#case from 17 years ago

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

#dean Winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

[amisonist]

fuck it transition timeline

I was originally gonna wait until July to do this because that'll mark 3 years on E but I feel like now's a good time all things considered

With that out of the way lets start from the beginning AKA freshman year (AKA 2018)

This was on my way to band camp which is why you can see my trombone in the background (random fact: that was the only year I got to do marching band and our show was "the music of harry potter". yeah irony's a bitch ain't she?)

Graduation picture featuring the bestest boi Jinn :3

This pic is from 2020 because I switched to online and finished high school early out of spite (I was 16 here if you were wondering)

Now then this is from 2021 and was taken only about a week before I started hrt when I was 17

The lake in the background is Lake Superior in case you were wondering. Me and my mother were all the way up on the Keweenaw Peninsula for my family's 4th of July party held at the family farm

Moving on from that I started HRT on July 22 2021 (the appointment was at 9:30 am and I took my first dose at 7:42 pm yes I kept track)

This was taken like a half hour after my first dose (I actually don't really like this pic that much but I'm including it because it is important)

Fast forward from that a year to 2022 when I was 18 and here are a few pics of me around then one of which again featuring best boi Jinn

(it was windy out that day and he tried to bite me immediately after this lmao)

I've never been particularly good at taking selfies lmao

That brings us to now. I've been on hrt for about 2.5 years now if my math is correct. I'm pretty much living full time as a woman, started laser hair removal a couple months ago (next apt is actually tomorrow lol), and I'm working on getting my legal name and gender changed. It's been a long ride thus far and I don't really plan on stopping anytime soon so yeah here ya go

So that's it! At least thus far lol

also fuck photomatt 🚗🔨💥

#Trans #Transgender #transition timeline #queer #lesbian #long post #I might have gotten a little bit carried away there lol #🚗🔨💥 #idgaf if this is cheesy or whatever #I kinda like how it turned out #took too long to gather all these together #I like never take pics of myself #my camera roll is just 4000 memes

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”—

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot. 

—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like. 

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were. 

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat. 

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now. 

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing. 

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious. 

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program. 

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.” 

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in. 

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere. 

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes. 

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?” 

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently. 

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.” 

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder. 

The buzz was getting better. 

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do. 

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content. 

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise. 

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once. 

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes. 

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout. 

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state. 

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you. 

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind. 

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne. 

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his. 

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right. 

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle. 

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore. 

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right? 

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep. 

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you. 

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words. 

But how could he fucking forget your name? 

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again. 

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap. 

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked. 

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind. 

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get. 

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever. 

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights. 

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late. 

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen. 

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush. 

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!” 

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not. 

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid. 

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart? 

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing. 

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one. 

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side. 

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped. 

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party. 

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown. 

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged. 

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles. 

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach. 

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off. 

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. 

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone. 

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone. 

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you. 

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity. 

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing. 

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side. 

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.” 

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”. 

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense. 

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button. 

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it. 

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you. 

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment. 

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out. 

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen. 

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed. 

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job. 

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily. 

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy. 

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk 

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/ 

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you. 

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course. 

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week. 

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled. 

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far? 

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you. 

“Yn! We're gonna be late!” 

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips. 

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone. 

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it. 

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together. 

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently. 

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night. 

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said. 

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina. 

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. 

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday. 

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you. 

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd. 

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear. 

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand. 

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway. 

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together). 

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den. 

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice. 

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw. 

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang. 

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty. 

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face. 

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied. 

“Yn,” you added on. 

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her. 

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed. 

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash. 

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang. 

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed. 

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would… 

Oh. 

Well, now you just felt stupid. 

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk. 

“You're thinking that you're stupid.” 

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with. 

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.” 

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter. 

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts. 

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place. 

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless. 

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him. 

She held your spiked juice while you texted him. 

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about. 

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder. 

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music. 

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked. 

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms. 

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart. 

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly. 

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions. 

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish. 

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was. 

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.” 

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?” 

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you. 

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk. 

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together. 

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again. 

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled. 

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist. 

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused. 

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest. 

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck. 

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him. 

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky. 

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years. 

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky. 

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown. 

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.” 

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile. 

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car. 

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?” 

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting. 

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with. 

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

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[halfagone]

Is it Canon or Fanon?

A little over a week ago, I received a very thought-provoking ask that wondered whether the Fenton parents could be considered good parents after everything they've done throughout the show. I did leave a response to that ask, and you can find the original answer here. But even afterwards, it had me thinking:

Why did we start depicting Jack and Maddie as Bad Parents to begin with?

I aim to answer this question through canon evidence to see where this argument might have come from. Now, something to keep in mind is that we still tend to ignore canon a lot of the time, so there may be some people who won't take this meta to mean all that much anyways. But for the purpose of fanfiction, we have to acknowledge that there needs to be an in-universe explanation to these events and sadly, the 'it's a Butch Hartman show' or 'it's an early 2000s cartoon' excuses don't really cut it.

So let's start with some basic stats. There are 49 episodes to the Danny Phantom cartoon (we will not be using the Graphic Novel, A Glitch in Time, for examples); 20 for the first season, 17 for the second, and 12 for the third. If you looked this up on Google, you might notice that these numbers don't line up with the episode list provided. This is because I counted any two-part episodes as one for convenience's sake. Season 2 has three two-parters: "Reign Storm", "The Ultimate Enemy", and "Reality Trip". Season 3 has "Phantom Planet".

Jack appears for 43 of those episodes, although he does not have any speaking lines in the episode, "Frightmare". Maddie, on the other hand, appears in 40 episodes. The three episodes that Maddie does not appear in, but Jack does, are as follows: "Memory Blank", "Flirting With Disaster", and "Double Cross My Heart".

Let's Start with Season 1:

"Mystery Meat": Jack is shown as dismissive to Danny and his friends' preferences, telling them, "True, I've never seen a ghost, but when I do, I'll be prepared. And so will you, whether you want to be or not." Later on, when Sam and Tucker are visibly shaking and Danny is panting from exhaustion, he doesn't realize something is off about this. When Jazz offers to drive Danny to school, the Fenton parents quickly assume that she's a ghost and go off to track them down... even despite her previous argument that she was mentally an adult (should I be concerned that Jazz called Danny an 'abused, unwanted wretch' to make a point to their parents?) A POINT TO MADDIE, she worried about hurting Jazz if she really wasn't a ghost but Jack quickly dismisses that, as their ghost-hunting device only hurts when gets into human hair (spoiler alert, it gets into Jazz's hair). She also insists that Danny is not a ghost, but unfortunately she ultimately doesn't try to stop Jack when he insist Jazz is a ghost. Standing aside and letting abuse play out does not mean Maddie is innocent of hurting her daughter too.

"Fanning the Flames": When Jazz and Danny are struggling to study for an upcoming test, Jack decides that they should put their kids into the 'Fenton Stockades' which is basically an iron maiden. And yes, the Fentons have an entire floor that is meant to torture people. I feel like that should probably be addressed at some point. A POINT TO MADDIE, she stood her ground and refused to let him put their children inside, and even locks him inside instead.

"Teacher of the Year": After hearing displeasing news about the state of Danny's grades in a parent-teacher conference, Maddie lectures Danny by saying, "Get this straight Danny. You're a Fenton. Fentons get As. Or in your father's case, B minuses." Before this, when Danny tried to explain himself, Jack shuts him up with, "Now that's enough of your sass talk mister." Do a lot of parents act like this? Yes. Does that make this a good, conductive way to help your child improve their grades? No, it does not. In fact, Maddie's response in particular probably reinforces the idea that Danny doesn't fit in with the rest of his family and further proves that Jazz is the favorite child. Not a great parenting moment.

"Fright Knight": In this episode, Jack tells Danny, "If I didn't consider it a sign of weakness, I'd weep with joy!" Not a very promising sign when a parent tells their child that it's wrong to show emotion. It's especially telling, however, when it's crying from joy and not even sadness. Yikes.

"13": This is the episode where Jazz 'dates' Johnny briefly, and we see Danny stalking them on their dates. I've seen people give Danny a decent amount of flack for that as well, so this would be a good time to say that the Fenton parents were there too and even encouraged him to keep stalking his sister. Danny was wrong to ignore Jazz's privacy like that, but he definitely learned it somewhere.

"Public Enemies": Here we see more of the Fenton parents' aggression towards ghosts. We get a line from Jack: "I'm gonna tear that ghost kid apart into a million different-" Notice something here? He recognizes that Phantom is a ghost 'kid' and yet still fully intends to shoot at him with the intent to hurt if not straight-up kill him. The only time Maddie disagrees with him is to insist that she does the dirty work because she has better aim than him. These are not the type of people you should let children stay with.

"Maternal Instincts": Okay, I gotta say it, this is a really cute episode. We get to see Maddie reminiscing over how close she and Danny used to be and wishing they had that bond again. Unfortunately she does get some points docked off for deciding what they should do as a bonding activity instesd of asking what Danny wanted to do and maybe learning more about his interests and who he is as a person now that he's a teenager. But there is this really sweet moment where Maddie tells Danny 'I love you' at the campsite which absolutely melted my heart and then later on when she saves Danny from the ghosts, Danny tells her she's awesome and gives her a hug. So sweet. But then she kinda ruins it by asking her son to act as a distraction and- Please do not ask your teenage children to keep skeevy old guys 'entertained' when you know he's a creep. A POINT TO JACK, while all this is going on he's defending his daughter and even shouts, "Back off, she's a minor!" That's some Dr. Doofenshmirtz energy right there, I respect it. He also talks about making Jazz an action figure, which was a really cute moment amidst the chaos.

"The Million Dollar Ghost": This episode is filled with some great Danny-Jack bonding moments and goes to show how much Danny cares about his father that he's willing to get caught to make Jack feel better about himself. We also get to see how much Jack cares about how Danny views him and he wants to be someone in Danny's eyes. Unfortunately, this is the episode where Danny gets lectured for not doing all his lab chores, such as cleaning the beakers and changing the ecto-filtrator- despite knowing that the portal could blow up if they don't change in time and knowing that Danny is bad at cleaning his own room. And we literally get a scene where Jack knocks something over and tells Danny to clean it up because he was too busy running around to do it himself. Is it important to give children chores? Yes, it teaches them responsibility. You should not be asking them to deal with hazardous, dangerous chemicals that can literally cause an explosion capable of killing people. Something to keep in mind.

Now let's look at Season 2:

"Doctor's Disorders": In this lovely (sarcasm) episode, we have Jack saying to Danny's face: "Poor Jazz. She's always been my favorite." I don't feel like this one needs much more explanation for how horrible this is. Also, this isn't really too relevant to the bad-parent-thing and more to the "they wouldn't take Danny's reveal well under other circumstances" thing, because Maddie literally says to Tucker: "Everybody knows humans can't have ghost powers." Which would technically, probably, dehumanize Danny in their eyes.

"Identity Crisis": There's one line in particular in this episode I wanted to point out, which is from Jack where he says, "Safety features? Why, safety features are for punks." ...I know this is probably supposed to be a joke, but when you think about it, it's even worse than you might think. In fanon we do tend to stress how forgetful the Fentons are when it comes to lab safety, but it's one thing to forget and it's a whole other thing to purposefully dismiss it. I could even argue that we're doing the Fentons a service by characterizing them as simply forgetful.

"The Fenton Menace": This is one of the episodes I referenced in the original ask as well, for its... plethora of concerning material. There are lines such as, "Whether it's air land or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." A POINT TO MADDIE, she told her family she loved them by saying, "Nothing like spending quality family time with the people you love." However she immediately loses those points when she and Jack attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. The episode transcript reveals Danny's reaction to this, which is described by, "Danny screaming, his face and hair flying around. Zoom out to show him strapped to a table, which is attached to a metal arm. Zoom out to show the metal arm connected to a centrifuge-like device on the ceiling." As well as, "Danny is shaking, hair sticking up with bags under his eyes." Is this supposed to be a joke? I wouldn't know because quite frankly, I'm not laughing.

"The Fright Before Christmas": So in this episode we learn why Danny hates Christmas! Which is because he got peed on by a dog. As a baby. What kind of parent lets their baby get peed on by a dog? Again, child neglect is a criminally punishable offense, and if they had left him out, in the cold, with dog piss on him, we could have had a lot bigger problems here. They also ignore both their children for most of this episode due to their arguing, although they go back later on and tell Danny that he shouldn't be alone for Christmas and where was all this concern before?

"Secret Weapons": Ah... This is the episode where it happens. Here we get the infamous interaction. Please note how a ghost is referred to as an 'it'. Not a person, not even a kid. But an 'it' that can feel pain that will go ignored.

Jazz: "Does it hurt the ghost?" Maddie: [laughs] "Oh, Jazz! You know your father and I don't care about that. Jack: "Yeah! If we hear it scream, then we know it's working."

"Micro-Management": At the very end of this episode, Jack makes a comment to Danny, "I'm so proud. Our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president. Here's to you son." Clearly it's meant to be a compliment, but I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't take this as a compliment.

"Masters of All Time": This one takes a more distressing turn, because after Maddie catches Danny for snooping around, she has his strapped down to a table and fires a laser at him to interrogate him, thinking he's a ghost (though the laser doesn't hit him, just threatens him, which... isn't much better). And this is after he's already insisted that he's her son. He is still very clearly a child, and even if she doesn't believe that he's her son (for admittedly understandable reasons, people usually remember when they bear children), the fact that she strapped him to a table at all does not look favorably on her. Especially when he very clearly believed that she was his mother, and he was her son. And she still did this to him. Yes, there were time shenanigans involved, but that doesn't make this any easier on Danny just because he knows the truth.

"Reality Trip": This episode showcases that the Fenton parents can actually be decent parents. While they have a hard time believing the truth at first, they do eventually accept it. However, it is still important to remember that Danny could have never known what their reaction would be, so his fear is understandable and rooted in real concern for his life. Here are some of the best points from this transcript:

Jack: "Imagine, our own son has had ghost powers all this time and has kept them a secret from us. [confused] But we love him! [turning to Maddie] I wonder why he didn't trust us enough to tell us." Jazz: "[sarcastically] Hmm, let me guess. [mimicking Jack] "Hey, Maddie, let's destroy the ghost!" [mimicking Maddie] "No, Jack, let's dissect the ghost." [mimicking Jack again] "I know, let's catch the ghost and rip it apart molecule by molecule!" [normal voice, sarcastic again] You guys are so understanding." [Jack and Maddie drop their gazes, ashamed.]

Moving onto Season 3:

"Eye for an Eye": This is more a passing mention, but Jack seems to be a little obsessed with the GIW and huge fans of their work, and you do see it some more in "Livin' Large" later on in the season as well.

"Girls' Night Out": We see Jack trying to make an effort with Danny in this episode again. I did point out in the original ask reply that Jack was obviously trying to be a good father for Danny, which definitely deserves some points. However, it is still important to point out how generally uninterested Danny was in the bonding activity. It goes back to how Maddie ignored the chance to give Danny a choice, and how dismissive they tend to be towards him. I still want to award Jack a point for looking for advice from 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!' but I do so half-heartedly. Their interactions in this episode definitely reek with discomfort, but considering everything that has gone down in between now and "The Million Dollar Ghost", that does make sense.

"Torrent of Terror": This is another instance of extreme lack of safety precautions- the airbags don't deploy? In the GAV??? Somewhere out there, OSHA is crying.

"Forever Phantom": Maddie and Jack show a lot of anti-Phantom rhetoric in this episode. So this tracks how uncomfortable and/or threatened Danny might feel at home. Some examples include:

Jack: "He keeps this up he's liable to make people forget he's nothing but a putrid rancid ball of self-aware protoplasm."

Maddie: "Don't be fooled sweetie. He's up to something. Remember that time he attacked the mayor? Or stole everyone's Christmas presents? Once a filthy ghost always a filthy ghost."

"Livin' Large": Something to remember, the GIW intend to fire a missile into the Ghost Zone after gaining access to the Fentons' portal. While they didn't have the password right away, it cannot be understated that the Fentons basically gave away their house in exchange for wealth. Thankfully the missile was just a fake and not a real weapon of mass destruction, but do not mistake this to mean that- had it been real- the GIW wouldn't have gone through with it. And the Fenton parents would have been just as responsible.

And that concludes our canon research for this argument! Let's wrap things up with some stats. Of the 49 episodes in the show, we have evidence in 21 episodes. That is roughly 43% of the show, and this does not include comments that Danny has made about his parents and how they treat him. Obviously, at the end of the day, human error is possible. There is always a chance that I could have missed another piece of information, or perhaps another thoughtful addition to this list. However, 43% is no laughing matter.

Yes, the Fenton parents had their shining moments, but with all the other evidence presented that overshadows those little gems, can you confidently say that they are good parents? And most of all, if you were in Danny's shoes, would you say the same thing?

It's easy to excuse this as a cartoon. When you're writing in this world, playing with these characters, that excuse instantly evaporates.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all learned something about the Fenton parents like I did.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #jack fenton #maddie fenton #fanon vs canon #character analysis #show analysis

[pansyfemme]

jude + he/him + nineteen

FTM femfag colorfreak and general rainbow lover. I’m a sophomore in art school, a lover of obscure indie pop, and a guy who makes transgender penis jokes on the internet. Stay weird with it always, yknow?

I’m veryyyyyy t4t towards other trans guys butch, fem, femme, and masc alike and this is 90% of my content fair warning.

Art: @fagboyfriend

Twee/Indie Pop blog : @upforabit

dm for nsfw blog

selfies are under: #Jude pansyfem irl

putting a short faq under cut bc. i get the same questions a lot. check it before you ask about my icon or header or anything

faq:

How long have you been on T/How do you have a beard at 19? I came out at 12 years old, started blockers at 14 and HRT later that same year, and had top surgery at 17, making me 5 years on t and 2.5 years post op.

What show/game/comic is your icon from? its a cropped version of the album cover of the 1999 album “shake the pounce” by vancouver based twee pop band Gaze. It’s a favorite album of mine as well as just a cool little guy i like a lot

Where is your header from? a painting i did in gouache a year or two ago and thought would make a nifty header.

Oh come on, you’re not unboyfriendable! “unboyfriendable” has been my title for a long time now on account of it being a lyric from a song that means a lot to me, “all my little words” by the magnetic fields. i promise i am very fuckable im just really into sad music sometimes

How do I refer to you? Actually, i don't get this question a lot, and I shouldn't, since this info is both in my pinned above and in my bio. But a lot of people still seem awful confused. I am male. FTM. I use He/Him pronouns and masculine terms with the exception of compliments like 'pretty' and all that. I am not nonbinary, and do not like to be referred to gender neutrally. I simply am a trans man who enjoys gender non conformity and cross-dressing.

Are you Bi or Gay? this world is full of beauty. im queer. take that how you will. I generally consider myself open to any gender as long as they’re trans, (i am strictly t4t.) but still identify pretty strongly with being a queer guy in the way that i do like other men.

What style are you wearing/where do you get your clothes? I started by wearing my personal version of the japanese fashion subculture Decora Kei. My decora became a bit messy and grungy, and while i do still identify as a decora boy and wear full coords from time to time, i consider myself now someone who enjoys colorful fashion and takes influence from 90s harajuku fashion, punk subcultures, drag and other campy fashion. I shop a variety of places, but a lot of my stuff is from Kei Collective or Candy Trap.

What is Twee/Do you Make Music? Twee is a music genre I developed a special interest in a few years back. It's a style of indie pop that originated after the UK rise of the famous c86 compilation tape in the late eighties, and was developed with a focus on low-fidelity, diy sound combined with upbeat, bubblegum-y pop sentiments and a naive, childlike outlook. It's both cute and somewhat rough around the edges. I do not make music, and don’t hold any musical skill. I’m just a major fan.

Do you take commissions? you may direct all art related questions to my art blog inbox, but for the time being, please just dm me for commission info. I take them on a case by case basis currently, im a full time student and have a lot on my plate. I’ll let you know my availability and pricing upon request, but i generally prefer the ‘you tell me your vision, i give you a quote and you tell me if that works for you’ model of pricing because each peice is considered its own thing in my mind. Pricing for ‘full body’ or ‘lineart’ doesnt work for me beacause the media and subject doesn’t really dictate how much time or effort a peice will take for me.

Can you boost/reblog this post for me? This is a tough answer, i know, but if we are not mutuals, or I do not know you, I cannot do that for you. My reasoning being that I have been baited by very similar asks in the past that turned out to be scams, and I do not want to take the risk of spreading misinformation or scams now that I have a much larger following. I do my best to spread stuff that ends up on my dash and/or I can factcheck, but if I do not have that, I will be wary, considering my past interactions.

Can we be friends/Can I DM you? Anyone is welcome to send me a message of any type at any time, unless I have those settings changed, in which case i likely have it off short term, because i experience fairly regular transphobic harassment and i find it the best way to protect myself. However, just understand that I am a stranger on the internet. I don't always want to continue every conversation, and I'm not online all the time. I have all push notifications for tumblr turned off, including asks and dms, because it's much better for my mental health to be able to opt out of tumblr the moment I close the app. So, if i don't respond, i'm probably just doing something else or didn't see your message. And, if you come in full force flirtatiously, i appriciate it greatly and i'm sure i'll let you know, but i'm pretty shy one on one. Additionally, i may not respond if you're a blank blog, way older or younger than me, or honestly.. anything that makes me uncomfortable. so like. all of these are pretty basic rules but, people don't follow them so i must clarify.

Do you have a DNI? I haven't in a long time, due to it being pretty frequently ignored and my following count growing to the point i can't really control that anymore. I can and will block people, but i feel my opinions are made fairly clear through what I post here.

[theaologies]

spinning my chair around and sitting in it backwards: GOOOOOD MORNING CLASS

FIRST AND FOREMOST: this is not a panic post. It’s an informational preparedness post. Don’t panic. Just be prepared for this like you’d be prepared for an earthquake but you know it’s coming and it’s wet.

I’m 30, lived in Central Florida for the first 26 years of my life, and have experienced more hurricanes and tropical storms than you can imagine. Never in my life did I think I would have to discuss HURRICANE SAFETY again after moving to LOS ANGELES from FLORIDA and yet HERE WE ARE-

(This information is accurate as of 8/17 at 9am PST)

SO models are still early but it seems like as of last night, Pacific Hurricane Hilary is rapidly intensified AND has shifted its track pretty severely inland. Originally SoCal was predicted to get some bands off the coast but this does NOT seem to be the case anymore

As our good friend Jim Cantore mentioned above, if Hilary DOES make landfall in SoCal, it will be the first tropical storm to do so since 1939. Fucking yikes.

THE GOOD NEWS:

It isn’t looking like Hilary will make landfall anywhere as a strong hurricane. If it makes landfall in central Baja it looks like it’ll be a Cat 2 which isn’t great but still- better than the Cat 5 it’s currently strengthening to.

As for SoCal, we’re not predicted to get anything over a Tropical Storm. And mountains tear up tropical cyclones like crazy. It’ll (probably) be weak and, wind wise, no worse than the Santa Ana’s

THE BAD NEWS:

Our Cone of Uncertainty is currently pretty wide- this fluctuation matters as it determines which side of the storm hits us. Is this significant? Yes. The right side of a Hurricane is considered the “dirty” side- it’s the side that is most likely to produce severe weather, such as severe thunderstorms and tornadoes. It’s still too early to determine what side will affect us the most but it’s something to keep in mind.

Also, I can’t speak for the rest of SoCal, but I would not bet on the LA infrastructure doing well even with a weak tropical storm. Which is why I have brought you here today, to run down the IMPORTANT HURRICANE CHECKLIST

NOTE: I made this several years ago for FLORIDA so not all of it will be accurate to SoCal. Most of us live in apartments and have no say over tree trimmings and the likes. If the storm is feeling like it’s going to get bad, I would recommend moving important things and electronics away from windows and hanging out in areas of the apartment that have the least amount of windows. I don’t think boarding up windows or anything will be necessary but here’s information if you need/want it

ANOTHER NOTE: if you have the means, please check up on your unhoused neighbors and immediate community groups that do so, as well. As always, they will be the ones most affected by severe weather. Tarps, anything that rises up off the ground, waterproof bags, etc would be good to grab for them. I am not an expert here and would recommend following the lead of your community groups that work with your unhoused neighbors to find out what will be needed most.

I don’t at all think we’ll see any shutdowns so if the rain does get bad be prepared for dangerous driving conditions. I know it’s dangerous to drive any time it rains in LA but, you know. The Weather Channel isn’t predicting a TON of rain at the moment (for LA) but, just like our winter/spring this year, be on the look out for flash floods.

And again, this is all JUST IN CASE. It’s better to be prepared than not. SoCal’s infrastructure is not at all prepared to handle a tropical event so who knows! Anything is possible. If I was in Florida I wouldn’t at all be worrying about this but I’m not anymore and our wet winter absolutely fucked our roads in LA so I’d rather everyone be safe than sorry.

I’m sure it’ll all be fine and now you just have more safety information, which is never bad! Because frankly climate change is very real and I would not be surprised to see this happening more and more in the coming years. And it does have me worrying that El Niño this year is going to be worse than we imagined.

#hurricane #hurricane safety #Los Angeles #southern california #san diego #baja california #baja #hurrican Hilary #tropical storm #tropical storm Hilary #Tijuana #Mexicali

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 21 - "Just in case this doesn't work."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Inspired by this Post about Danny bullshiting his way by saying he is Tims future kid. Also once again posting this early, cause I need to destress tomorrow and not worry about writing or work or anything.

Edit: Thanks to @kisatamao in the comments I found the post again that inspired this and linked it!

"Chronus"

"Nowadays I go by Clockwork."

"Fine, Clockwork then."

"John Constantine."

The Ancient of Time and Justice League Dark members stared at each other blankly. Until the ruler of time smiled and Constantine sighed. "How is the time baby doing?"

"Very well. Your timeline is safe. There was an incident that could have possibly splittend the timeline again and in a way it did but the destruction timeline was once more prevented, by the child himself like I hoped for. Three times now."

Constantine grunted, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You know if Bats or any of his kids ever learn about this I will be the one to take the burn right?"

Clockwork only smiled a knowing smile and Constantine paled. "When?"

"Where is the fun if you knew. The little Drake has been quite unpredictable and entertaining." The Ancient mused floating around the room and Constantine's eyes narrowed.

"There won't be a paradox?"

Clockworks tilted his head with a mischievous smile on his face. "Well the timeline in which he was born no longer exists and his father of this time line has ceased his efforts in cloning. He never even got to the point of trying to combine his own DNA with the one he so desperately wanted to clone."

"I feel like I am hearing secrets I definitely do not want to know. Just tell me if this timeline is safe or not now."

"It is safe. Your timeline has now a true Ancient of Balance in the making and just in case this doesn't work, I have anchored Daniel's existence in this timeline with several means one of which was his own time clone created from a split of destruction line."

Constantine's eyes twitched. "For all of our sakes I hope Bats never finds out about this. If he ever learns that I replaced a still born with a grandson of his from a different destruction timeline… You know what, I am not nearly drunk enough for any of this mate!"

Clockwork chuckled, his eyes glinting with unhidden amusement. "Well John Constantine, would you like a word of advice?"

The JLD member took another long drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt of it somewhere to the side. "No riddle."

"When 17 turns to 4 it is not the grandfathers, you should fear."

"I said no riddles!" Constantine huffed as clockwork disappeared from his side. He brushed his hair with one hand, glaring at the spot where the Ancient of Time had been. He should have never agreed to help that damned being 15 years ago, having been somewhat of a beginner then John did not realize what kind of deal he had agreed on.

Now he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or fearful of the consequences. Especially now that he had worked with the Bat Family a couple of times already.

Exactly one year later Constantine decided he was fucking fearful!

Unknown to the Brite a lot of things can happen in three years. Like Parents turning on their child after accidentally learning about a truth. A teenager that was already hurt trying to salvage whatever peace he could.

—--

"Mom! Dad! I swear it's still me, Danny!"

"Give me back my baby boy you monster!"

—--

A governmental organisation committing mass genocide on an interdimensional species.

—--

"Ember, get out of here! Now!"

"Baby Pop! What about the others?!"

"Dan already released them! Get out of here! I will hold them off and keep them busy!"

—----

The interdimensional species try to convince said teenager fighting for them to forgo humanity.

—--

"Welp, this can't go on. No hunt is worth this much."

"Give it up already. The humans made their decision."

"They broke too many rules, it is time they suffer the consequences."

—--

A heavy conflicted ending with the teenager receding into its core and getting picked up by one of his papa from a different timeline.

—--

"What kind of crystal is that? It radiates a pretty strange but familiar energy."

"I wanna see! I wanna see!"

"If it's not dangerous, why not keep it?"

"It looks like there are snowflakes in it."

—--

The kid then reformed out of his core in his ghost age instead of human age with a green note appearing on his forehead. Said note confusing the kids papa making him contact the kids dad.

—--

"Tim you won't believe this…"

"Kon you sound weird, what is going on?"

"Remember that shiny crystal I picked up at the end of our last case?"

"The one with the snowflakes in it, yes."

"I think I just became a dad."

"WHAT?!"

—--

Which then led to the dad overanalyzing the note while the kid insisted that a certain ghost was involved. The child's grandparents then getting tipped off through the grandchild of the Ancient Constantine still curses in his mind.

—--

"So Pandora mentioned something to me."

"Hn."

"Have you tried asking Constantine about it? He is apparently in contact with a being that likes to write cryptic messages on green notes, or that's what Pandora told me at least."

"..."

"And your new grandchild came with such a note right?"

—--

And now John Constantine was fearing for his life, because Batman had tried to contact him several times now. Several times Constantine had found reasons to ignore. Only for the Bat to come knocking on his door -well more like rudely kicking it down- with fucking Super too! He was cursing up a storm internally and thinking of how best he could get out of whatever had crawled up the two hero's asses when right behind the two hero's stood another set of hero's he did not want to face especially when he noticed one of them holding a four years old toddler in his arms.

"Chronus you fucking asshole!" The Brite muttered to himself as the four hero's plus time baby stood before him demanding answers.

That was when the toddler piped up, eyes glowing a bright green. "So Clockwork does have something to do with this! I knew it!"

"Danny, sweetheart not now. You can tell us you were right after we figured out what timeline you are from and if we need to send you back or can keep you." Red Robin calmed the now pouting toddler Super Boy was holding and petting with a small chuckle. While Batman and Superman turned on Constantine.

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #tim drake #conner kent #clone Danny #Tim is Danny's dad #Kon is his papa #Clockwork took danny from his original timeline #and placed him in his favorite to save it #Danny was born in a doomed timeline #one were Tim went a little to far over the edge #Constantine helped Clockwork bringing Danny into his timeline #He fears Batman and Superman because of that #He should probably fear Tim more #Tim and Conner are protective parents #they want to keep Danny #But they had to make sure he can stay safely in their timeline #they would have found a way to keep him anyway #even if clockwork didn't ensure it in the first place

[fluorescent-if]

| DEMO TBA | RO INTROS |

| playlists | pinterest |

Welcome back to Misty Cove!

Your hometown that holds all of your best memories from childhood. Days where you spent all of your time with friends, exploring and playing. The most notable thing about both you and your hometown however, is what started happening in your teenage years. After you and your friends uncovered a mystery about the local movie theater, you starting finding more odd occurrences across the county, and well, it's not like anybody else was going to solve them.

You and your friends because a team of detectives. Most your teenage years and early twenties were spent solving odd crimes across the country. You were all best friends.

That was until four years ago when...

Well, you're not sure you can remember anymore.

It doesn't matter right now. Welcome back.

'Return to Misty Cove' is a horror/mystery Interactive Fiction game that is inspired by Scooby-Doo, The Works of Stephen King, and H.P. Lovecraft. This work will be rated 17+ for gore, violence, swearing, death, and body horror, that might not be suitable for everyone.

Customize your MC's appearance, develop their personality and become the linchpin of your mystery solving team.

Find out more and possibly solve the mystery that has been haunting your hometown.

Rekindle, or destroy old friendships (and maybe develop romances) with your former team, and meet others along the way.

Have an animal companion! (dog or cat)

RO's & Other Major Characters

Cameron "Cam" Morris (M/F) [RO]- Tech-savvy and mechanically minded, Cam is currently working as a mechanic after you and your group broke up, they are currently going to grad school for mechanical engineering, and still sends postcards and pictures to you. They are likely the sweetest person you have ever met, even if sometimes they are too kind to people who don't deserve it. Out of the four of you, Cam was always the one who needed to do what was right, no matter the cost to their self.

Ollie Cohen-Reyes (NB) [RO]- Ollie has always been interested in macabre and strange, spending hours researching in the library any and every topic they were interested in. They get along with very few people, but once they are able to get close with others it becomes easier, and they become sarcastic and witty, and feel less uncomfortable talking about their interests freely. They work as an adjunct professor in forensic anthropology.

Rose/Rory Thompson(M/F) [RO]- They are a loyal person, first and foremost. When the group broke up they somewhat lost their purpose, but they ended up settling and working as a bartender in Misty Cove. Having taken boxing and self-defense classes from a young age due to their paranoid parents, R was always the best when it came to physical confrontation with the cases you investigated, even if outside of this they never seemed like someone who had that much power. They have become far more aggressive and assertive than the person you knew as a child, now having the attitude to match their technical know-how.

Terra Clarke (F) [RO]- You originally knew her by a different name, but she started transitioning early on life, and Terra is the only name you can remember now. Normally when you say it it's followed by an eye roll. Terra was never someone you got along with when you lived in Misty Cove. She was always very antagonistic towards you and your friends, but a lot has changed since the last time you saw her. She now owns her Grandpa's diner, and tries to take good care of the people of the town, especially since the mayor won't do much. She is always exhausted now, but is very happy to see a familiar face, even if your history is muddied because of both of your actions.

Randall 'Randy' Clarke - Terra's grandfather and former owner of "Randy's Diner" always very kind to you and your friends, even if you all never got along with Terra.

Ana Lloyd - (pronounced AH-na) current mayor and overall very unprepared for her job.

Mrs. Candace Talbot- Your former English teacher from high school, you never got along with her that well.

Dorothy Giles- Your co-worker, likely the only one in your office who cares about her job.

(most things are subject to change throughout the games development)

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #intro post #misty cove-if #if wip #twine if #second try for the intro post #I learned how to code to make this game out of spite #misty cove if

[stvrni0lo]

𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: reader is secretly messaging someone, and matt gets jealous

warnings/notes: mentions of jealousy, happy ending

requested?: yes! number 17 “accidental confession” and number 24 “A not realizing they’re jealous” from my actions prompt list @markiplierbaby

also requested by others ↴

- boy bsf matt getting jealous over someone reader is talking to so he starts to act all possessive and touchy

> > >

You had known Matt for years now. He was your best friend and confidant, always offering his support whenever you needed it. Matt never judged you or questioned your life choices (unless, of course, they were bad choices… in which case he would tell you to get a grip).

All in all, you two were always together. Either he would come over with Nick and Chris or you would visit them for a full-day sleepover. Most days you would do something fun but there was obviously the occasional staying in and doing nothing.

This leads us to where you were currently. Sat on the couch, with your phone in hand as you giggled at a text notification that popped up.

Matt, ever curious, tilted his head to you, dropping his own mobile onto his lap. He eyed your body language, noticing the lingering grin on your face as you typed away.

“What’s funny?” he asked, an unusual feeling bubbling in his chest.

Turning your head to him briefly, you opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say. For some reason you were hesitant to tell him of the person you had been texting these past few days. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he would care, right?

“Oh, just a friend… said something funny,” you finished, your heart thumping faster than you would care to admit.

Matt’s demeanor fell slightly. His shoulders slumped against the couch defeatedly. Once he noticed your lack of attention towards him, he resumed his trek through TikTok.

He couldn’t understand why his blood boiled every time you let out a snort, or a laugh. Your beautiful smile that graced your face every time a new message came through - why did that make him feel sick with worry? Matt couldn’t help but look up at you every now and again, his stomach twisting into knots more and more each time he did so.

What could be so funny? It’s not like he hasn’t made you laugh like that before, so why was it so bad when this other person was doing it?

Hating that he was being a pouty and complaining to himself, he decided to get himself up off the couch. He looked back to you before speaking.

“Do you wanna do something today? Like, instead of sitting and doing… whatever it is you’re doing,” he added the last part a bit passive aggressively.

He didn’t mean to be mad. He just couldn’t help it. What was so private that you couldn’t disclose it to him? And why did he care so much? Matt knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread every time he saw your eyes light up at your screen. Maybe a nice day out with you would help get his mind off of it.

You pondered for a few minutes before nodding. “Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?”

- - -

The drive to the cinema was short. Matt said he wanted to watch a new movie that had come out, insisting that he buy the tickets online before you got there. He had a habit of always paying for you - and you wouldn’t have minded if he at least let you do the same from time to time. But he never did.

“So… who’s got you all giggly today?” he asked. It was slightly out of curiosity, but mostly out of discomfort of not knowing who it was.

“Oh! It was a friend of Madi’s. I met them a couple days ago when I went to her house.”

You said it matter-of-factly. How were you to know that Matt had ulterior motives asking this? How were you to know that as soon as you got out of the car, Matt would shoot Madi a text to ask who the friend was?

Matt held the door open for you as you reached the entrance to the theater. He showed the usher your tickets before making his way with you to the screen.

You realized you needed to pee before going in. There was still 20 minutes left, so you decided you’d go now before it was too late. “Hey,” you called to Matt.

He stopped to look at you, his eyebrows arching. It was as if he was waiting for you to say something. Something in particular, to which his shoulders dropped when you didn’t.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Okay, yeah.”

As you walked to the bathroom, the last thing Matt was expecting was for you to return with someone else, your laugh echoing throughout the building.

Your head leaned into the person next to you, your smile as big as ever.

Running up to Matt, you stood beside him to introduce the newbie. “Matt! This is who I was telling you about,” you said, your grin growing as he shook hands with them.

“Ah,” he said, forcing a smile. He felt bad, but he really did not want to meet this person. This person that seemed to steal your heart and - why did he care?

Matt instinctively moved closer to you, his shoulder resting against yours. He was seeking comfort - reassurance. But he didn’t know why. You were his friend, he should be happy for you.

The conversation that buzzed through the air seemed to go in one ear and out the other. His responses were automated, nothing besides a “yeah”, “oh cool” or strained laughter could be heard from him.

At some point, it felt as if something possessed him, and he involuntarily wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It wasn’t a shock to you, really. He was occasionally touchy with you - I mean you guys were as close as could be. Yet you had noticed how weird he was acting, so you knew this sudden affection wasn’t coming from a friendly perspective. You knew he wasn’t feeling well.

“Sorry to cut this short but we really do have a movie to see. It was nice meeting you,” Matt said curtly.

It wasn’t a lie. The movie did start in 10 minutes. But really, he just wanted to have you to himself right now.

Matt moved to grab your hand now, pulling you away and towards the double doors. Your friend had already left, so you decided you’d question Matt before entering.

Planting your feet on the ground, you interlocked your fingers to his, bringing him back. “Matt,” you sing-songed.

“Matt,” you said again, more stern this time. He fell backwards, hesitantly facing you now. There was an almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Something’s up with you,” you pointed out.

“Really?” he responded, his eyes landing on your interlocked fingers.

You sighed, taking a step closer. “Matt,” you said for the third time. Each time you said his name, it sounded like honey dripping from your tongue. It made his heart race. His palms were sweating, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Yeah. You’re right, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t really know.”

He sounded exasperated, his sighs were deep, and his eyes looked confused. Confused on what he was really even feeling.

“I just think that maybe I don’t really like your friend,” he said quickly, worried that he’d upset you.

You cocked your head to the side. “How come?”

“They’re not that funny,” he said, pouting. “And they were texting you too much. I could barely even have a conversation with you this morning.”

You almost got whiplash with how fast you jerked your head backwards. To say you were confused would be an understatement. “They were… texting me too much?” you asked in disbelief.

Matt’s cheeks burned under your intense gaze. “Matt, I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, groaning. He let go of your hand to rub his face in frustration. “Me neither! But every time you smiled at them I got so annoyed and - and I think maybe I just don’t like your new friend.”

Suddenly, a wave of laughter washed over you. Matthew Sturniolo was jealous. And he was none the wiser. Taking deep breaths in between your giggles, you wiped a few stray tears away. Matt looked at you like a lost puppy, his eyes following your every movement.

“What?” he asked, his fingers messing with the rings on his hands.

“It’s not funny!” but the smile on his face said otherwise. He couldn’t help it, seeing you happy always made him happy. “C’mon, what are you laughing at?”

You held onto his shoulder for support. “You are so clueless.”

His eyes widened at your statement. Suddenly his cheeks flushed again and he opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately decided not to. What was he clueless about?

Shaking your head at how oblivious he was, you finally just told him. “Matt, you’re jealous.”

“I- what?”

You smiled at him, pecking his cheek in the process. “Well there’s nothing to be jealous of. They really are just a friend.”

His skin buzzed at the contact of your lips on his skin. He wished that you did it more often.

Matt blinked at you a few times. Could it be? He knew he found you beautiful, and funny. He knew that sometimes he imagined cuddling with you on a stormy night - but he never thought too deep into it.

Jesus, you were right. He was clueless. And it took him this long to realize that he liked you.

He felt like an idiot.

“Let’s go, Matty. We really do have a movie to see,” you mocked the last part. Grabbing his hand in yours once more, you lead him to the movie screen.

You looked back at him briefly, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand.

“Maybe after this we can go get dinner?”

Turning your back to him, you kept walking, missing the dopey smile on his face as he stared at your hands yet again. It must’ve been the millionth time that he blushed today, his face feeling like it was in a constant state of unnaturally heating up.

He wishes he knew he liked you before. Then maybe this date could’ve come faster.

- - - - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@st4rgzer

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

@mxqdii

@slaysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #stvrni0lo

[nevermeyers]

Akutami this Akutami that. When Gojo "won" a few weeks ago people complained about Gege being greedy and keeping him alive to keep making money out of him (as if wanting money for your work was a sin). And now people complain about this death being "forced". Yk guys, I just think you're not happy with anything at this point and some people want to spread negativity over an overworked author. The same way people sent hate akutami when he didn't have the time to finish those pages in volume 17.

But I'll say thanks, Gege for creating such a great and complex character, wonderfully written who lived, loved and laughed, grieved and cried. A character so sadly mischaracterized as "just egoist and narcissistic" who had his heart broken so many times, his body literally ripped out, died and reborn as a god, who always gave his best.

I can't wrap my head about Satoru's life. People expecting the best from him, so they probably never actually congratulated him bc that was "his job" and what everything wanted from him. And Suguru being the only one who understood him and saw him as Satoru, not Gojo Satoru "the six eyes brat" just Satoru. His name being pronounced in such a lovely way during season 2 will always break my heart.

Also, Satoru and Toji being counterparts in the sense that Toji was born with nothing, and no one expected nothing from him, while Satoru had everything. Their fight, which was the first time Satoru felt alive and the point from which he became obsessed with being powerful.

Satoru, the funny and cunning teacher who wanted a strong generation. And he made it. He actually accomplished his dream of making a strong generation of sorcerers capable of thinking by themselves. It's all in their hands now.

Grew from a kid to a smart adult who proved he was the strongest of his generation. Maybe he wasn't the strongest of all times, and considers himself to not be enough, but for me? Damn, he is. He's the one who cared about the youth, who prepared them for the future. Who overcame a cursed love and loss all covered in blood, never surrendered, and still managed to stood up for what he believed in regardless the situation. That's what a strong person does.

So thanks Gege. Satoru has accompanied me for three years of my life. I loved him for three years and I will continue to love him in case he decides not to give another plot wist and leave him definitely dead.

I'll love him forever

#thanks gege I'm just in tears right now #Satoru is such a complex character and I love him so so much #I won't ever get to recover from this lol #He's more than a pretty face #jujutsu kaisen #@meyers #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo #satosugu #stsg #jjk meta #kinda? #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #—meyers»talks🌸

[floridaboiler]

Things You Probably Never Knew About The Great Lakes.....

1. Lake Superior is actually not a lake at all, but an inland sea .

2. All of the four other Great Lakes, plus three more the size of Lake Erie, would  fit inside of Lake Superior.

3. Isle Royale is a massive island surrounded by Lake Superior. Within this island are several smaller lakes. Yes, that’s a lake on a lake.

4. Despite its massive size, Lake Superior is an  extremely young   formation by Earth’s standards (only 10,000 years old).

5. There is enough water in Lake Superior to  submerge all of North and South America in 1 foot of water.

6. Lake Superior contains 3 quadrillion gallons of water (3,000,000,000,000,000). All five of the Great Lakes combined contain 6 quadrillion gallons.

7. Contained within Lake Superior is a whopping 10% of the world’s fresh surface water.

8. It’s estimated there are about 100 million lake trout   in Lake Superior. That’s nearly one-fifth of the human population of North America!

9. There are small outlets through which water leaves Lake Superior. It takes two centuries for all the water in the lake to replace itself.

10. Lake Erie is the fourth-largest Great Lake in surface area, and the smallest in depth. It’s the 11th largest lake on the planet.

11. There is alleged to be a 30- to 40-foot-long “monster” in Lake Erie named Bessie. The earliest recorded sighting goes back as early as 1793.

12. Water in Lake Erie replaces itself   in only 2.6 years, which is notable considering the water in Lake Superior takes two centuries.

13. The original publication of Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax contained the line, “I hear things are just as bad up in Lake Erie.”Fourteen years later, the Ohio Sea Grant Program wrote to Seuss to make the case that conditions had improved. He removed the line.

14. Not only is lake Erie the smallest Great Lake when it comes to volume, but it’s surrounded by the most industry.Seventeen metropolitan areas, each with populations of more than 50,000, border the Lake Erie basin.

15. During the War of 1812, the U.S. beat the British in a naval battle calledthe Battle of Lake Erie, forcing them to abandon Detroit.

16. The shoreline of all the Great Lakes combined equals nearly 44% of the  circumference  of the planet.

17. If not for the the Straits of Mackinac, Lake Michigan and Lake Huron might be considered one lake.Hydrologically speaking, they have the same mean water level and are considered one lake.

18. The Keystone State  was one of the largest and most luxurious wooden steamships running during the Civil War.In 1861, it disappeared. In 2013, it was found 30 miles northeast of Harrisville under 175 feet of water.

19. Goderich Mine is the largest salt mine in the world. Part of it runs underneath Lake Huron, more than 500 meters underground.

20. Below Lake Huron, there are  9,000-year-old animal-herding structures   used by prehistoric people from when the water levels were significantly lower.

21. There are  massive sinkholes in Lake Huron that have high amounts of sulfur and low amounts of oxygen, almost replicating the conditions of Earth’s ancient oceans 3 million years ago. Unique ecosystems are contained within them.

22. Lake Huron is the second largest among the Great Lakes, and the  fifth largest in the world.

23.  In size, Lake Michigan ranks third among the Great Lakes, and sixth among all freshwater lakes in the world.

24. Lake Michigan is the only Great Lake that is entirely within the borders of the United States.

25. The largest fresh water sand dunes in the world line the shores of Lake Michigan.

26. Because water enters and exits Lake Michigan through the same path, it takes 77 years longer for the water to replace itself   than in Huron, despite their similarity in size and depth. (Lake Michigan: 99 years, Lake Huron: 22 years)

27. When the temperature of Lake Michigan is below freezing, this happens.

28. Within Lake Michigan there is a “triangle” with a similar reputation to the Bermuda Triangle, where a large amount of “strange disappearances” have occurred. There have also been alleged UFO sightings.

29. Singapore, Mich., is a ghost town on the shores of Lake Michigan that was buried under sand in 1871. Because of severe weather conditions and a lack of resources due to the need to rebuild after the great Chicago fire, the town was lost completely.

30. In the mid-19th century, Lake Michigan had a pirate problem. Their booty: timber. In fact, the demise of Singapore is due in large part to the rapidly deforested area surrounding the town.

31. Jim Dreyer  swam across Lake Michigan in 1998 (65 miles), and then in 2003, he swam the length of Lake Michigan (422 miles).

32. Lake Michigan was the location of the first recorded “Big Great Lakes disaster,” in which a steamer carrying 600 people collided with a schooner delivering timber to Chicago. Four hundred and fifty people died.

33. Lake Ontario is the smallest of the Great Lakes in surface area, and second smallest in depth. It’s the  14th largest lake   on the planet.

34. The province Ontario was  named after   the lake, and not vice versa.

35. In 1804, a Canadian warship, His Majesty’s Ship Speedy, sank in Lake Ontario. In 1990, wreck hunter Ed Burtt managed to find it.  Only, he isn’t allowed to recover any artifacts until a government-approved site to exhibit them is found. He’s still waiting.

36. Babe Ruth hit his  first major league home run   at Hanlan’s Point Stadium in Toronto. It landed in Lake Ontario and is believed to still be there.

37. A lake on Saturn’s moon Titan is named after Lake Ontario.

#Great Lakes #Facts #Did You Know #Lake Huron #Lake Ontario #Lake Michigan #Lake Erie #Lake Superior

[hibiscusol]

IVY - rafe cameron .⋆·˚ ༘ *

navigation ! masterlist

warnings: language and mentions of alcohol

summary: rafe came back after swearing he never would.

author's note: we are sooo back guys :]

The moment Rafe’s hand snaked up your waist after three years of no contact, your mind went full-blank.

You never thought that Rafe, of all people - who are you kidding, you always did - would come back one day after swearing on his dad that he never would.

It’s not like he ever really liked his dad anyway.

So as you turned around in shock to connect your drunk glossy eyes to his, it felt wrong. So wrong. Sarah had told you he’d found someone new. That he’d found a pretty blonde who looked better next to him. She’d never say it to your face, but the pictures you’d see on his account screamed it at you.

It took you a second to remember that he probably mistook you for her, and you take a step back, shaking your head quickly.

“Wait, Y/N,” He whispers, and even in the bustling crowd, it reaches you just fine. You wait and turn, feeling dizzy. “Excuse me?” You say, too stunned to make up any other words. You want to shove him away and scream at him, yet his fucking beautiful blue eyes hold you in place. 

“Can we talk? By my bike?” He says, inching a little closer so that his voice would reach you. His body towers over yours and the blue and purple lights dim a little.

“No?!” You say defensively, making it sound more like a question. “Who even are you?” You say jokingly, your freshly manicured hand landing on his shoulder and pushing him slightly away. He doesn’t resist. He takes a step back and puts his hands up in understanding. “Y/N. Please. I need to tell you some things I needed to tell you all those years ago.” 

You feel your eyes sting, and a tear rolls away. You instantly turn away from him to the backyard, looking at all the half-naked people in the pool, even though your eyes are getting blurry.

He doesn’t say anything. He knows you. He waits for you to turn around.

“Your drinking problem never went away, did it?” You finally manage, barely saying it without crying. Your voice breaks, but he doesn’t notice it with the loud sound of bass-boosted Travis Scott playing in the background.

“No, Y/N, I know I’m drunk. Which is probably why I’m not rethinking this. Just 5 minutes. Please.” He says, frowning. He sounds like he’s going to cry too.

“Isn’t she here?” You spit out, rolling your eyes. Your heart has never beaten so fast before. You believe him. It must’ve been a big deal if it’s still breaking him after three years. “I tried to make me and her work. She’s not you.” He says and your heart stops.

It fucking stops.

“Rafe, stop it. You’re being mean,” You say, raising your voice. You don’t want to believe him. You don’t want to believe all the tears you shed were for nothing. You don’t want to believe when Sarah told you herself that his brother sucked, you felt like the only person who understood yourself. You hated him, yet you loved him too. And you didn’t want to believe he was sorry. You wanted to get the closure and move on. But every day, you found yourself refusing to take the picture of you and him off your bedstand. Just in case this happened.

“Mean? Y/N, what are you saying? I…” He says and you interrupt. “No, Rafe, I’m not fucking falling for this again.” You say and shake your head. Your hands are feeling so empty. You want to grab his flesh, hug him, and tell him you forgive him. For ignoring your calls when things would be rough at home all those years ago. For getting wasted and coming home, yelling at you because his dad had cut his only source of income for his rich shit. You wanna tell him it’s okay, that he was 17 and you know he didn’t know life isn’t just about that. But you can’t. Because what if he doesn’t think that like you do? What if that girl is waiting for him to come back with her drink?

“For what? Baby, I…” His voice breaks again when he calls you baby, and your body stiffens. He sounds broken and you can’t help but put your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t call me that,” You say, making it sound like advice and not a threat. “You should leave, you’re not feeling okay. You’re out of your…” You say and he shakes his head. “No, Y/N, I’m not okay because you won’t let me talk to you. I didn’t want to ruin your night, I just… I have to tell you how I feel. I’ve bottled it up for too long.”

A tear rolls down your face, and he notices it. “Don’t cry, I’m… I’m sorry.” There you go. He’s said it. He’s sorry.

The magic word. It goes through your brain and every single cell, making you shiver. You nod involuntarily, wiping your tears away with the palm of your hand. “You’re crying too.” You say, looking down at the space between the two of you. He’s wearing the shoes you bought him for his 17th birthday.

“I am.” He says and sniffs, looking away. He chuckles to lighten the mood and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry for everything. I was a kid and I didn’t realize what I was doing wrong. I know better now.” He says and nods repeatedly. 

“And I’m not with her. I… we didn’t even like each other like that. She once asked me if I was gay because of how uninterested I was.” He says and you laugh. The fact that something not even funny could sound funny coming out of his mouth makes you blush. He smiles from ear to ear when he hears your laugh. “I missed that laugh.” He whispers.

“So… do you forgive me?” He says and your smile disappears. “Wait, Y/N, don’t be like that. I’ve changed. I’ll change more. I’ll change however you want if it means I’ll have you again…”

“Okay, Rafe, I understand.” You say and nod. “I just… why three years? Where were you?” You say and rub your forehead.

He takes a deep breath and puts his drink down. He hesitates to cup your face, but then you give him the nod of permission, and he does. “Because I wasn’t in a good enough place to be with you. I wanted you to be with someone you truly deserved, even if it wasn’t me.”

The next few seconds happen before you can digest his words. His lips part and gently crash onto yours, making your breath get stuck in your throat. His head leans forward and his thumb caresses your jawline as you melt into him. You smile through the kiss and your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer. 

He pulls away abruptly and you frown. “Wha…” You try to protest but he stops you. “As much as I would love to keep on kissing you and more, I’m not here for this tonight. I’m not too drunk to drive so let’s go under that one tree we always hung out under. Come on.” His words make you chuckle as he pulls on your hand through the crowd, leading you to his bike. No matter how intoxicated you both are, you feel safe with him for the first time, because you know he’s not the same person he was all those years ago.

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron one shot #— 🏝 my work

[agendabymooner]

ollie on thin ice(man) || ob8 (+ kr7) scenario

ollie bearman x raikkonen!ofc (ft. dad!kimi raikkonen)

EXTENSION TO ICE ICE BABY (SMAU)

ANOTHER RECOMMENDED READ: STOP THE WORLD I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU (KIMI R. SMAU)

Summary: It was the Formula 1 summer break, meaning that The Iceman’s two driving children, including his beloved Romania ‘Aroma’ Raikkonen, were home. This also meant that a certain Ollie Bearman would make his presence known to the Raikkonen household- which was unpleasant for Kimi’s part.

Content warning: Dad!Kimi being protective, Andrea Kimi Antonelli is addressed as ‘Kimi’ by the Raikkonens but is addressed as ‘Andrea’ in narration, humour, wooing, Ollie wanting to cry really bad, Antonelli x Raikkonen!OFC (Rooney)

Note: this might not make sense to most but… enjoy regardless xx read the recommended fics for more context.

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

For Kimi, it was never a problem to have people over.

 He was retired and he pretty much had nothing all day but to spend some time with his kids all while his wife, the Academy Award winning director Vera Coppola, worked on days end while she travelled to New York for a week. 

It was a life he loved to live, really.

To have people over was a usual case for the Coppola-Raikkonen household, as Kimi had three children that were at the age when friends and peers were important. 

Kimi and Vera always thought that it was much better that they allowed their children to have friends over than having them go out and about at night— better be free at home than rebellious and endangered, right?

It was now the summer break of this year’s F1 season, which meant that his two children were also home and didn’t need to be travelling with their mum to wherever the next race was.

It meant that they didn’t need to do their schoolwork on the plane while their private tutors sat with them on the way to wherever. 

It gave the two young racers the break they needed from competing, anyways. If there was something that Kimi knew, it was that his eldest daughter and oldest son had the same drive as him. 

Though, if he was being honest, his son was more like him in terms of interviews and personality in front of the camera. But still… both were racing out of pure joy.

Thank goodness, their mother was a Coppola and Kimi made millions before this. 

“Dad, Kimi’s here,” Johann-Lauri Francis Coppola-Raikkonen, or simply Jo, announced as the fifteen year old walked into the living room where Kimi and his two younger kids sat. 

Andrea Kimi (whom Kimi was never confused with whenever Jo or any of his children said the name ‘Kimi’ as they addressed their dad as ‘Dad’) made his presence known to Kimi as he waved, “Good afternoon, Mr. Raikkonen.” 

“Ah! Andrea,” Kimi nodded. “Nice seeing you. When did you get here to Italy?” 

“Hm… We just got back from Nice two hours ago,” Andrea replied with a purse on his lips, “Mamma and Papa made sure I got here in time. I even brought an overnight bag.”

“Okay,” Kimi said with a nod, “Johann, did you clean your room?”

“Yes, dad,” Jo replied.

“Do you want me to order food later?” Kimi asked.

Just the mere utter of the words ‘order food’ had Kimi’s second daughter running from the home library to the living room.

“Dad? Why is it that every time Kimi’s around we always order food? Why can’t we order food when Kimi’s not here?” 

Rooney Italia Coppola-Raikkonen, at the age 17, never once enjoyed the presence of Andrea. But that was because they were both at that age when pissing each other off was just a phase. Now here she was, complaining about Andrea getting a special treatment.

“Bwoah, he is a guest, Roo,” Kimi answered plainly. “Mama isn’t here right now, and I’m sure you’d like some pizza too, no?”

“For dinner?” Rooney whined. 

“You can order off the menu and tell me later,” Kimi negotiated, making Roo jump excitedly. 

“Nice,” Roo said with a grin before she glared at Andrea, “You suck, Antonelli.”

“Rooney Italia—“ Kimi was about to scold his daughter, but she had already sped off to the home library once more.

Kimi sighed, watching the two teenage boys head upstairs to Jo’s room. Kimi looked down at his little boy and his toddler girl. Both little kids were less of a menace than the older ones, thankfully. 

Betty-Elina was suckling on her pacifier when she looked at Kimi and raised her comfort blanket up to Kimi’s chest level.

“Thank you, kulta,” Kimi told Betty with a grin. He turned to where his youngest son was. 

Henrik was snoozing on Kimi’s lap, not even minding the noise that his big siblings were making just about now. 

God. What a life he was living. 

Somewhere in the mansion, rather down the hall of the east wing, was a quiet muffling sound of a girl who was speaking to herself. Well, Romania Eleanor was barely speaking to herself.

She was streaming. It was her first stream ever since F2 had gotten to her system. 

Having to fight her friends to keep her second position before the season ends told her enough about how taxing racing could get. Thus she did the second best thing to racing and streamed cozy games to her fans.

Aroma, once she heard a knock and a creak of the door, looked over to see her younger sister Rooney. She paused her game, trying to see what the girl wanted all while her stream remained running.

“What’s up?” Aroma asked.

“Dad‘s going to order food,” Rooney started but was quickly cut off.

“Let me guess: Antonelli?” Aroma quipped.

Rooney huffed out, “As always.”

Aroma knew that the two, for some reason, hated each other’s presence. Or rather, Andrea Antonelli was simply amused at the one sided beef Rooney had with him. 

But regardless, the ART Grand Prix driver chuckled as she nodded. Aroma said, “If Dad is ordering from Signora Leona’s restaurant, can you ask if I can have some seafood fettuccine Alfredo?” 

“Got it,” Rooney raised a thumb up before she left the room. 

Aroma watched Rooney leave and shut the door behind her before she sighed, proceeding to play her Animal Crossing as she spoke to her stream, “It’s like I’m watching a cringe version of enemies to lovers.”

Ollie Bearman was never scared of anyone.

Anyone but one person that wasn’t his parents: Aroma Raikkonen’s father, Kimi.

He’s heard stories about The Iceman and how he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve him nor his children.

Sure, for most people it wasn’t a scary thought. But in some ways, the British man was involved with Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest daughter. 

That alone was a scary thought. He’s had a crush on Aroma since they started racing together, back when Aroma raced around Europe while her mother Vera took her to travel. Ollie was a welcome face to everyone in the Coppola-Raikkonen household. 

But god… People called Kimi ‘The Iceman’ for a reason, Ollie thought. 

Kimi’s icy stares and cold demeanour were always directed to Ollie and no one else. Ollie knew the difference between ‘icy’ and ‘indifference’ especially when it came to Aroma Raikkonen and her ‘wholesome’ father. 

News flash: Ollie called bullshit on Kimi being a sweet man. Kimi’s stare could burn holes and Ollie could rot on them— so much for being the ‘Iceman’. 

Now here Ollie was in Italy, hoping to hang out with Aroma…

To sum it up: Ollie and Aroma had some sort of thing going on. One that Ollie wouldn’t dare show to Kimi because god only knows what the Finnish driver could do to the Brit. 

Anyway.

Ollie patiently stood in front of the Coppola-Raikkonen home, his posture still calm. He had just rung the bell, now he was patiently waiting for anyone to answer. 

He didn’t expect for the patriarch to answer the door, his brown eyes meeting Kimi Raikkonen’s blue eyes. 

Ollie grinned and politely greeted, “Mr. Raikkonen-!” 

“-You’re not the delivery man,” Kimi stated bluntly. 

Well… Ollie stood there awkwardly and nodded, “I am not, sir. I am here for Romania.” 

“…Bwoah?” Kimi asked, his head tilting as he watched Ollie nod in confirmation. “I was not told.” 

“I- uh,” Ollie’s demeanour grew awkward and uncomfortable as he stammered, “She- she didn’t tell you?�� 

Now this could go two ways: The British driver would have to go back to his accommodation in Milan and wallow in self-pity because Aroma Raikkonen had completely forgotten about their plans during the summer break OR he would die in the hands of Kimi Raikkonen because Kimi’s daughter had forgotten to tell her father about the said plans. 

Either way, Ollie knew he was screwed. 

Kimi stated, his typical indifference seeping through his voice, “I can check with her.” 

Ollie sighed in relief and smiled politely, “Thank you-“

Kimi had already shut the door on Ollie, making the younger man sigh and wait by the front porch for five minutes…

Then five turned to ten…

Then ten turned to fifteen. There was no sign of Kimi. No signs of Aroma either. 

Ollie sighed and took his phone, trying to ring and text Aroma. There was nothing. So he did the next best thing and rang the only other guest in the Coppola-Raikkonen household. 

“Ciao, Ollie,” Andrea Kimi Antonelli spoke from the other side of the call, in the background was a multiplayer game of FIFA.

“Hey Kimi, listen,” Ollie started and looked around while he spoke, “You’re inside, yes?”

“Yes,” Andrea said shortly as he let out a ‘Idiot! Johann!’ “Anyway, why do you ask?”

“I’m outside—“

It seemed like Ollie was distracting the boy from an intense online game with him and Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest boy Jo. Because the next thing that interrupted Ollie was a, “Andreaaaa! What did you do?!” 

“Listen, if you’re looking for Aroma she’s streaming— okay, ciao!” Beep.

Ollie was on the verge of tears; Being left alone in front of the house of the girl he was wooing (supposedly) by her father wasn’t in Ollie’s bucket list this summer break. He could have sworn that Kimi Raikkonen hated him. 

Now he did the last best thing: pay his way into the house.

[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “i just spent money so you can open the gate for me] Aroma listened to her text to speech donation as she was preoccupied from playing her game and paused briefly. “Huh?” She asked and looked at the text. 

She didn’t even realize who it was until she saw the donor. It was Ollie. 

“Ollie..?” The moment she peered down on her phone she saw the countless notifications on the screen. 

oli 🐻: hello 👋

oli 🐻: miss maam 🤓🤓 i’m downstairs

oli 🐻: if u see this i’m stranded downstairs. i can hear ur little siblings laughing at whatever ur father is saying

oli 🐻: if u see this i’m also prolly dead lmaoooo plz come downstairs

5 missed calls from oli 🐻

oli 🐻: aroma 😭 please i’m begging

“What the hell…” Aroma trailed off before asking aloud (particularly to no one), “Did Dad not even realize you’re at the front?” 

But it seemed like she was heard by a certain individual who remained watching her stream at the front porch since he donated once more.

[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “he did but he doesn’t like me”]

“Oh my goodness,” Aroma muttered and paused her stream, standing up as she said, “Dad needs to stop with the Iceman act already!” 

“Dad!” 

Maybe her father had good intentions, Aroma thought, but she knew better. Her father might be reserved half the time, but it didn’t mean that he had a hidden agenda when it came to her dating life. 

So much for being a ‘cool father,’ right? 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne

#ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman #ob8 #formula one x oc #formula one imagine #formula one fluff #kimi raikkonen imagine #kr7

[visualtaehyun]

DFF language notes and observations

This was originally just supposed to be a quick look at Non's meds in ep. 8 but then I finished watching the episode and felt compelled to rewatch the entire show 🫠 So might as well collect everything into one post!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Por's mumblings (ep. 2)

กูขอโทษ อย่าเอาคืนกูเลย /guu khaaw thoht. yaa ao kheuun guu loei/ = "I'm sorry. Don't take revenge on me/Don't get back at me."

Time and ages

The present takes place in 2023, the past was three years ago, in 2020. Apart from White, the boys are all the same age according to the character overview below, which makes them all 19-20 years old in the present (while White is 18 and a freshman). In the past up to ep. 8, they would have been 16-17 years old and in 11th grade (ม. 5/3 -> Matthayom 5, class 3; ม. stands for มัธยม /mat tha yohm/ = secondary school).

Potty mouth Fluke

In the present, I swear every other word out of his mouth is a swear and the subs don't always make it obvious. An example of when he's speaking calmly in ep. 3:

เพราะคนอย่างไอ้เหี้ยท็อปอ่ะ แม่งคงไม่ปล่อยให้โอกาสแบบเนี่ยะหลุดมือไปง่ายๆละเว่ย /phraw khohn yaang ai hia Top a- maaeng khohng mai blaawy hai oh gaat baaep niia loot meuu bpai ngaai ngaai la woei/ = Because someone like that dipshit Top wouldn't fucking let an opportunity like this slip his hands so easily.

It's not like the others don't curse, they sure do lol, but Fluke does so even when not in a stressful situation, and it sticks out in contrast to White especially because the baby speaks so properly and politely to his phis.

Newspaper clipping (ep. 4)

เป็นแฟนไอ้ตี๋แต่มึงไม่รู้จักอาโจ้นะ /bpen faaen ai Tee dtaae meung mei ruu jak aa Joe na/ = You're Tee's boyfriend but don't know uncle Joe?

The headline reads: ตายปริศนา'เสี่ยโจ้'นายบ่อนใหญ่ /dtaai bprit sa naa 'siia Joe' naai baawn yai/ = Mysterious death of 'bigwig* Joe' the gambling magnate** ฟอกเงินบัญชีม้ากว่า 300 ล้าน /faawk ngern ban chee maa gwaa 300 laan/ = Laundered money with over 300 million mule accounts

* เสี่ย /siia/ = a rich guy who squanders money, a big spender in illicit businesses, mostly used for middle-aged men; it's used as a pronoun, hence why he's known as เสี่ยโจ้ /siia Joe/ and we hear his subordinates call him เสี่ย /siia/, often subbed as Boss; it's a term of Teochew origin that describes an aristocrat's son, originally ** นายบ่อนใหญ่ /naai baawn yai/ = big shot gambling den boss or the boss of a huge gambling den

The snippet on the right is another easter egg btw - 'Talking to Pond Krisda, director of "Man Suang", Thai filmmaking [...]' but I can't make out the rest in that box (the snippet above that, too, though some of it I can tell says tourists, free visa, 3 months).

Greasy

What the boys call Non is (ไอ้)เมือก /(ai) meuuak/ which is more like Slimy or Mucous, actually.

More news (ep. 6, 7, 8)

Gang of senior high teens accomplices to mule accounts

Police does 180: Senior high teens escape lawsuit for shady mule accounts

High school kid goes missing at same time as teacher in leaked clip Connected to case of shady mule account teens

Past injury?

Whoever actually leaked the clip has this pelvis x-ray saved that's labeled to be from that same year, 2563 aka 2020. The two files at the top look to be invoices.

Pronouns

When Phee goes to confront Non about the leaked clip, he's so furious that he switches from their usual เรา /rao/ (= I; informal) + calling each other by name instead of using a 2nd pers. pronoun to calling both Non and Keng มึง /meung/ (= you; impolite) and himself กู /guu/ (= I; impolite). For reference, กู/มึง /guu, meung/ are the same pronouns the entire friend group use with each other, as male friends in Thai shows often do. Non, as the new addition to the group, is the only one who uses เรา /rao/ + names, and Jin is the only who reciprocally uses these pronouns with him.

Non's meds

Lorazepam -> benzodiazepine; used for treating anxiety disorders, insomnia, seizures etc.

Sertraline -> antidepressant; used for treating clinical depression, PTSD, OCD, panic disorder, social anxiety disorder

Quetiapine -> antipsychotic; used for treating schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, clinical depression etc.

THC poster, and a goof

ที่แห่งนี้...ไม่ได้มีแค่พวกเรา /thee haaeng nee...mai dai mee khaae puuak rao/ = In this place... it's not just us.

I'm sure there's more going on than just Phee and Tan infiltrating the group to get evidence and avenge Non. Like, Keng was on the phone with his contact Joy when he got hit by that white truck of doom car so I wonder if she's gonna come into play again in the present and who she really is.

And just for fun: that half-heartedly covered poster behind Tee looks suspiciously like a movie about a young chocolatier that shouldn't be out for another 3 years, according to the time line of this show lol

#dead friend forever #dff the series #dead friend forever spoilers #dff spoilers #dff meta #but is it though?? i'm mostly just translating shit #local woman harps on about linguistics #spoiler tags just to be safe ✊

[hockeyboysimagines]

can u do 1 and 17 of the smutty prompts with vince dunn please 🙏🙏 ur writing is so good

I got a little carried away, but here you are anon. I hope you like it🤍

There was nothing to be ashamed about in terms of lack of sexual experience. You’d been preaching it for years, mostly to convince yourself that you actually believed it, but also because you wanted to make it seem like you willingly didn’t have any.

That was not the case.

It was a you problem more than anything else. You just could not find anyone who got you going and the only person who would was emotionally unavailable.

You knew Vince well, through Jordan and Lauren Eberle, that you guys had become fairly good friends. In the past year you’d been hanging out quite a bit and while you liked him a lot, he was a walking red flag.

Not that he was a bad guy, he was in fact the opposite. You’d not met many people as sweet and caring as he was. And that was exactly the problem.

It was damn near impossible to dislike him and even if he had been a colossal douche, you still wanted him. You’d never made a move, for fear that he’d recoil like you were some kind of repulsive bug. Guys like him didn’t bother with girls like you.

But you were jarred from your thoughts when Vince himself materialized at your elbow with a small smile “Hey! When did you get here?”

“Just a little bit ago I-“

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I need a beer pong partner, come on-“

He grabbed your hand and you sucked in a sharp breath as he towed you through the people in the Eberle’s back yard to where two pong tables had been set up. The last time they’d had a gathering, you and Vince won 9 straight games and you’d regretted all of them the next morning.

“No way!” Jared yelled pointing at you “I’m not playing against her! That’s an automatic loss.”

“Ah! No backing out now!” Vince picked up the ball and chucked it at him.

It was a loss, and a humiliating one at that. If there was one thing in life you dominated at, it was beer pong. After your third win, your party mood completely died and all you wanted to do was leave. You tapped Vince on the arm “Hey I’m gonna head out.”

His smile dropped and he slouched “What? Why?”

You shrugged and jingled your keys “Just not feeling it is all. I’m tired.”

“Well. I’ll come with you.”

“No you don’t have to just stay-“

“Nah. I wanna hang out. Come on.” He once again reached for your hand and you felt a little flutter as his fingers intertwined with yours. This was extremely unusual for you and you felt a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t often that guys held your hand and you couldn’t really even remember the last time.

“So what do you wanna do?” He asked as you walked to your car. You glanced at him and then down at your hand, which he was still holding and took a breath.

Hes drunk. It doesn’t mean anything you said in your head, hoping he couldn’t see the redness pooling in your cheeks.

“Oh idk, whatever.”

You guys ended up in his apartment, seated in front of the sofa and two large windows that overlooked Seattle.

“Are you okay?” He asked handing you a glass.

“Yeah why?”

He frowned “It seems like something is bothering you. You can talk to me you know.”

“It’s fine. It’s a ‘me’ problem.”

“Come on. We’re friends, tell me.” He leaned forward a little “Maybe I can help.”

You chuckled “No I don’t think so. It’s just-I don’t know. Gets old being single.”

“That’s what’s bothering you? Being single? I thought you didn’t want a boyfriend, or is that not what you said?” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought “I kind of remember you being in the ‘no sec’ mindset or am I wrong?”

“I didn’t say I was against sex. I just said I wasn’t having any, and not because I don’t want to.”

“I don’t follow.” He shook his head and took a sip of his drink “If you want to have it you should, and don’t come at me with any nonsense about guys not wanting to date you, because it’s not true.”

“That’s not the problem. I don’t want to date them therefore I’m not having sex.”

He paused eyebrows raising as he glanced at you “Wait are you a virgin?”

“No I’m not a virgin, I’m just not…experienced is all.”

He stared at you blankly “But like…what do you mean?”

Your face was burning from the alcohol but mostly the embarrassment of having this conversation with anyone but especially him.

“I’ve had sex okay. Once and-“

His mouth fell open and he let out a breath “Once? Bullshit.”

You shook your head “No really but it-“

“Lemme guess.” He said holding up a hand with an eye roll “There was no orgasm.”

You looked at your feet and shook your head responding with a very small “No.”

He shook his head “Fucking figures.”

“What?”

“Just a guy thing. Most guys don’t really give a shit if their partner orgasms or not, just themselves. And it pisses me off that someone treated you that way. If you were my girl, I’d make sure you did every time.”

You coughed and crossed your legs “Well. As nice as that is it’s not your problem it’s mine.”

“I mean.” He looked out the window “It could be my problem. If you want it to be.”

When you didn’t answer he continued “Maybe i could give you your first.”

Your mouth fell open “I’m sorry what?”

“Why not? We’re friends. You’re hot.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“I have eyes don’t I? Of course I think you’re hot.” He rested a hand on your leg and leaned forward “And I wanna do this.”

You glanced at the large floor to ceiling windows and then back at him “Really? right here? you know people are going to see us...”

“So? Let them look.” He leaned forward suddenly, lips pushing right up against yours. You froze for a minute, shocked, until you felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip, and you melted like butter, kissing him like you’d never kissed a guy before. You felt dazed as one of his hands came up to thread through your hair. There was nothing that you’d experienced that even came close to kissing Vince. In fact you were so distracted by it you didn’t even realize that he was leaning you back on the sofa, tugging at your shirt. In no time, he had you down to nothing, right in front of the windows, where you were sure all of Seattle could see, but you didn’t care. Your breath felt heavy as he shed his boxers and settled himself between your legs, pressing a kiss to the base of your throat.

“Ready?” He breathed in your ear.

Unable to speak you nodded, eyes sliding closed as he eased in. You let out a long breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in as a wave of pleasure swept through you, and your head fell back as you arched up off the bed.

He pulled out and pushed back in, soon finding a rhythm. Your whole body felt like it was a live wire, nearly ready to catch fire. He bottomed out, and you let out a strangled moan, tensing up momentarily at the small ache of pain, and then loosening up again.

“You’re doing so good love” he said leaning down to kiss you again.

You felt a warmth begin to pool in your abdomen and your body started to shake. He smiled widely and started to push faster.

An orgasm, or at least you thought that’s what it was, washed over you in waves of euphoria and your eyes closed and you let out a long, low, throaty noise as it did, nails digging into his shoulders. His breath was warm on your neck as his pushes slowed down, and his head fell forward. You were a sweaty, shaky mess as he pulled out and leaned back, handing you a blanket to cover yourself with.

“So?” He asked smiling at you “How was your very first orgasm?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it finding the words after a minute “It was great, but I think my second one could be even better.”

Vince smiled and leaned forward to kiss you.

Maybe being inexperienced wasn’t so bad after all.

#vince dunn #hockey fanfiction #hockey tumblr #hockeyblr #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fandom #hockey blurb #hockey smut #hockey romance #hockey tag #hockey writing #hockey x reader #nhl fanfic #nhl oneshot #nhl writing #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl blurbs #lovely anons #lets chat #my asks

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Dean is driving down Interstate 35, Y/N is fast asleep in the back seat after beating Sam in rock paper scissors for it, while Sam is fast asleep in the passenger seat with his mouth open. Dean smirks mischievously at the two, taking up an old spoon he found in the car and shoving it in Sams mouth gently.

Then taking a pen from his jacket pocket, and gently shoving it in Y/N's nose. He smiles proudly, flipping open his phone to take a picture of Sam and then one of Y/N. He then turns the radio up that's playing Fire of an Unknown Origin by Blue Oysters Cult. "A FIRE OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN TOOK MY BABY AWAY!!" Dean sings along loudly, drumming along to the beat in the steering wheel.

Sam jumps awake along with Y/N, panicking when he feels something foreign in his mouth, spitting the spoon out. "What the fuck!?" Y/N yells, startled when she feels something foreign in her nose, pulling the pen that's stuck in her nose out. Sam wipes his mouth as Y/N rubs her nose.

"Ha-ha, very funny" Sam says dryly as Dean chuckles, laughing hysterically. "Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in east Texas. Kinda gotta make your own" Dean chuckles. "And my nose has to suffer for your boredom" Y/N scoffs, rubbing her nose. Dean smiles at her through the rearview mirror as she rubs her nose like a puppy. His heart flutters at how cute she looks.

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again" Sam says annoyed. "Start what up?" Dean feigns confusion. "That prank stuff. It's stupid and always escalates" Sam snaps. Y/N chuckles a bit at a memory, "Awww what's the matter, Sammy. You afraid you're gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?" Y/N teases her best friend.

Dean laughs hysterically at the memory of a bald soapy hair 13 year old Sam, running out of the bathroom, butt ass naked, screaming in terror like he's in a horror movie after Y/N put Nair in his shampoo because he made cookies and replaced the sugar with salt, then offered it to a innocent Y/N. She's the way with cookies, the way Dean is with pie. You don't mess with her cookies. "Alright. Just remember, you two started it" Sam challenges.

"Oh no no noooo. I am not getting involved in your weird sibling rivalry. I always get caught in the middle of it. No thank you." Y/N protests, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest Dean smirks at her through the rearview mirror. "Wuss" He snickers and Y/N glares at him, flipping him off. "Bring it on baldy" Dean chuckles looking at Sam. "Where are we, anyway?" Sam asks him.

"Few hours outside of Richardson" Dean tells him. "Give us the lowdown again" Y/N asks Sam to explain the case they were working. Sam pulls out his file, "Alright, about a month or two ago, this group of kids go poking around this local haunted house-" Sam explains but Dean cuts him off to ask. "Haunted by what?" He asks.

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit" Sam responds and Y/N groans. "Just wonderful" She mutters sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway, this ground of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar." Sam continues. "Anybody ID the corpse?" Y/N asks, leaning forward in the backseats between the boys.

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. Some cops say the kids were just yanking chains" Sam tells them and their eyebrows shoot up at this. "Maybe the cops are right" Dean suggests. "Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere" Sam says. "Where did you read these accounts?" Y/N asks him curiously.

He chuckles lightly, a bit ashamed to answer her question, "Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas to go to Y/N's safehouse. So, uh, last night, I surfed some local...paranormal websites. And I found one" Sam says lowly. Dean smirks as Y/N shakes her head, knowing what this might mean. "And what's it called?" Dean asks his brother. Sam chuckles again before sheepishly answering,

"HellHoundsLair.com". Dean scoffs laughing as Y/N chuckles, "Let me guess, streaming live out of moms basement" She jokes, making both boys erupt loudly with laughter. "Yeah, probably" Sam agrees laughing. "Most of those websites wouldn't know what a ghost was if it hit 'em in the 'persqueeter'" Dean chuckles. "Look, we let our dads take off, which was a mistake, by the way. And now we don't know where the hell they are, so in the meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt" Sam suggests.

"You're right I guess. There's no harm checking this thing out" Y/N shrugs agreeing. Dean sighs, "Alright, so where do we find these kids?" He gives in. "Same place you always find kids in a town like this" Sam says as if it was obvious.

________________________________

Richardson, Texas

A couple hours later, the trio pulls into the parking lot of the local diner by the name of Rodeo Drive to question the teens from the police report.

Boy 1: "It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life. I swear to God."

Boy 2: "From the moment we walked in. The walls were painted black"

Boy 1: "Red."

Girl: "I think it was blood"

Boy 1: "All these freaky symbols"

Boy 2: "Crosses and stars, and.."

Boy 1: "Pentagons"

Boy 2: "Pentecostals"

Girl: "Whatever. I had my eyes closed the whole time"

Boy 1: "But I can damn sure tell you this much: No matter what anybody else says-"

Girl: "That poor girl"

Boy 2: "With the black..."

Boy 1: "Blonde.."

Girl: "Red hair, just hanging there"

Boy 1: "Kicking"

Boy 2: "Without even moving"

Girl: "She was real"

Boy 1: "It's 100%"

Boy 2: "And kind of hot...well you know in a dead sort of way"

"Okay!" Y/N exclaims, chuckling a bit awkwardly. Disgusted by the last comment. She and the boys, sitting across from the three teenagers in the diner. "And how did you find out about this place, anyway?" Sam asks them, the trio confused by the inconsistencies in the stories.

"Craig took us" The three teenagers respond in unison as the three hunters share a look.

________________________________

The three hunters enter the record store after asking where the Craig guy could be found. "Gentlemen and Lady. Can I help you with anything?" A young man working in the store asks them, carrying a box of records to the register. "Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asks him.

"I am" The young man confirms. "Well, we're reporters with The Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Y/N" Dean lies on spot, covering as reporters. "No way. Yeah, I'm a writer too. I write for my schools lit magazine" Craig chuckles, boasting a bit. "Ahh, well good for your Morrissey" Y/N jokes, Dean snorts at the reference.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it, you might know about one" Sam says casually and Craig's face drops. "You mean the Hell House?" He asks them. "That's the one" Dean says smiling. "I didn't think there was anything to the story" Craig says. "Why don't you tell us the story, hun" Y/N says sweetly. Craig puts the record in his hand down and sighs.

"Well, supposedly back in the 30s, this farmer, Mordechai Murdock, used to live in the house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to even feed his own children" Craig explains, sighing. "So I guess that's when he went off the deep end. "How?" Sam asks curiously as Dean checks out the records.

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them." Craig further explains, the three hunters listening intently. "And they screamed, begged for him to stop but....he just strung em up, one after another. And then when it was all finished. He turned around and hung himself" Craig finishes.

"Now they said that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside" He adds. "And where did you hear all this?" Y/N asks him, cocking her eyebrow. "My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from...You gotta realize. I didn't believe this for a second." Craig defends.

"But now you do" Sam says. "I don't know what the hell to think man" Craig responds lowly. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real, alright? She was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?" He assures them fearfully.

Y/N cocks her eyebrow at his claims. Not fully convinced but she decided to go with it. They share a look before turning back to him, "Thanks" Dean says gratefully and they all leave the store.

________________________________

Later the boys and Y/N ask around and found the location of, Hell House. Now walking down the path to the abandoned house. "Can't say I blame the kid" Sam says. "Yeah, so much for curb appeal" Dean agrees. Sam and Y/N walk around the side investigating while Dean pulls out his EMF that begins to make some noise.

"You got something?" Y/N asks him. "Yeah, but the EMFs no good" Dean responds, tapping it. "Why?" Sam asks confused. "I think that things still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings" Dean says, pointing to the power lines. "Yeah, that would do it" Sam says, looking up at it. "Yeah" Y/N sighs and Dean turns to her.

"What about you?" He asks her. "Huh?" She says confused. "You know....your whole ESP thing" He says, pointing to his head and she rolls her eyes. "1, I'm not ESP." She says firmly making him chuckle. "And 2, I actually don't feel anything" She says, crunching her eyebrows.

Knowing normally she feels a heaviness around areas where people have died violently, etc. "Really? No, 'I see dead people'? What about you, Sammy?" He smirks, teasing the two, now turning to his brother who is glaring at him. Y/N shoved him lightly making him laugh loudly. "Come on. Let's go" Y/N ushers the boys towards the house, them following behind.

Dean whistles lowly as they close the door behind them at the state of the house. It was completely trashed, most likely by stupid teenagers. With a bunch of weird symbols all over the room. "Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger during his time" Dean says, his eyes on the reverse cross painted on the wall.

Y/N notices that some of the symbols are relatively new. "And after his time too" She says, nudging Sam. "The reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries" He says pointing to cross. "But this Sigil of Sulfer didn't show up in San Francisco until the 60s" Sam finishes pointing the Sigil.

Dean stares at his brothers blankly, "This is exactly why you never get laid" He deadpans while Sam rolls his eyes, taking a picture of the sigil. "Hey! I get laid" Y/N says defensively. "Yeah, because you're hot. Sam's not" Dean blurts out, shocking the Sam and Y/N, their mouths agape. Only realizing what he said, after it escaped his lips. "You think I'm hot?" Y/N smirks, her tone teasing.

Dean freezes in his tracks as he was walking to the other side of the room. He looks back at the two, Sam with a smug grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows at his elder brother suggestively, making mock kissy faces in Deans direction. Y/N with her arms crossed over her chest, an amused grin on her face, her back turnt to Sam, so she's oblivious at what Sam's mocking.

Dean clears his throat and gulps. Heat rising to his face. His eyes shifting between his bratty brother and even the brattier women he's in love with. "I- Shut up and work the case!" Dean retorts lamely as the two best friends burst out laughing. Y/N's heart skips a beat at the fact that she's sure now that Dean finds her attractive. Dean then notices a weird looking symbol on the wall, "What about this one. You seen this one before?" Dean asks them, tilting his head a bit to look at the symbol.

The symbol looking somewhat familiar. It was practically an upside down question mark with three lines going out the side of the dot. One on top and two on each sides. Y/N walks next to him and tilts her head also to look at it. "Nope" Sam responds, taking a picture of it. "I have...Somewhere" Dean says in recognition. "Yeah...me too. I don't know where" She agrees.

Y/N then leans forward to touch the symbol, the color of the paint staining her fingers. "It's paint" She informs them, showing them her stained finger. "Seems pretty fresh too" Sam points out. "I don't know, guys" Dean sighs. "I mean, I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind...but the cops might be right on this one" Dean says.

"Yeah, maybe" Y/N agrees. The suddenly, they hear rustling in a nearby room. They share a look before going to the door and pressing up against it on either side, Y/N next to Dean and Sam on the other side. They all nod before bursting in, only to be startled by lights shining in their faces by two guys, Ed and Harry, screaming in fear.

One with a camera and one with a bright studio light. "What the.." Y/N mutters as they all share confused looks on their faces. "Cut. Just a couple of humans" Ed scoffs as Harry switches the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?" He asks the boys annoyed, his eyes settling on Y/N, looking like he's practically in love. "What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asks them, just as annoyed.

Ed clears his throat, his eyes shifting back over to Dean, "We belong here. We're professionals" says cockily, shrugging as if it's obvious. Y/N cocks her eyebrow at this, "Professional what?" She asks them. A smirk rises on Ed's face, "Paranormal investigators" He boasts, pulling out three business, handing it to her. "There you go. Take a look for yourself, gorgeous" He winks at her.

She rolls her eyes, taking the cards from him. Dean glares daggers at Ed, his nostrils flaring. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me" Dean groans as he looks at the business card Y/N handed him and Sam. "Jesus Christ" Y/N groans in annoyance. "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler. HellHoundsLair.com" Sam looks up as them. "You guys run that website?" Y/N asks them.

"Sure do, gorgeous." He winks at her again and she cringes. "What? Was Venkman and Stantz taken?" She retorts snidely, making them glare at her, a cheeky smile taking over her face. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We're huge fans" Dean says sarcastically, going over to the cabinet, rummaging through it. "And uh, we know who you guys are too" Ed says. "Oh, yeah?" Sam responds as Ed clears his throat cockily.

"Amateurs. Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills. Yeah" He says. The three hunters hold back a laugh at his cocky nature, sharing a look that says 'get a load of this guy'. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here" Harry finally chimes in. Their amused faces don't falter.

"Yeah? What do you got so far?" Dean asks them snidely. "Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed says. Y/N decides to have a little fun with this, "EMF? What's that?" She feigns confusion, scrunching her eyebrows. Dean chuckles lightly at this, shaking his head. "Electromagnetic field" Harry responds smugly.

Turning around to go into his bag to grab his EMF. Sam has a small grin on his face. He and Y/N share an amused look as they begin to explain, "Spectral entities can cause entertainment fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here" Harry shows them the EMF that begins going crazy.

"Whoa. Whoa. That's 2.8 MG" Harry points out. Dean and Y/N glance at each other, holding back snickers. "2.8!" Ed exclaims as Dean whistles lowly. "Wow" Sam says in a fake impressed tone. "Huh. So have you guys ever really seen a ghost before or...?" Dean asks them, putting on a curious face as Ed takes the EMF off.

"Once" Ed responds, turning to him. "We were uh investigating this old house..." He begins to explain taking a deep breath. Dean crosses his arms over his chest nodding as if he's shocked. "...and we saw a case fall right off the table" He finishes. "By itself" Harry adds in a low tone, "But we didn't actually see it...but we heard it" Ed explains, Dean looks down shaking his head in disgust.

Sam and Y/N roll their eyes. "And something like that...it changes you" Ed whispers. "Yeah, I think I get the picture" Dean says nodding, walking back to Sam and Y/N. "We should go, let them get back to work" Y/N adds sarcastically. Ed flashes her a wink. "Yeah, you two should go." He says to Sam and Dean. "You could stay, gorgeous" He grins widely at Y/N.

Deans head snaps in his direction, his jaw clenching. A laugh bubbles in Y/N's throat, amused at the fact that Ed thinks he has a shot, "Never gonna happen" She laughs at his lame flirting walking out the door, the boys following behind her. Ed's eyes fall to her hips as we walks away, trailing down. As she walks out, she gets the sense that Ed was staring at her ass, which he was.

"Stop staring at my ass, Venkman!" She shouts, making Sam and Dean laugh. Deans genuinely relieved at the fact that she wasn't into Ed, not that she would be. But the sight of Ed flirting with her just amped up and fueled his jealously.

I need to get laid and get these thoughts out of my head. Dean thinks to himself.

Yeah, sure. Like that's gonna help.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N walk out of the Colin County Public Library, "Hey" They hail Dean. "Hey, what do you guys got?" He asks them. "Well, we couldn't find a Mordechai, but we did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the 30s" Y/N explains. "He did have children's but only two of them. Both boys. And there's not record he every killed anyone" Sam adds.

"What about you?" She asks Dean. "Well, those kids didn't really give a clear description of that dead girl. I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons. It's like she never existed" Dean tells them what he found. "Guys, come on. We did our digging. This one's a busy" He says to them.

Y/N sighs, agreeing. "For all we know, those Hellhound dorks made up the whole thing" She says. Sam sighs, "Yeah, alright." Dean says. "I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend for the locals" Dean suggest, giving Y/N a wink before jumping into the Impala. "Amen to that" She laughs, jumping in shotgun.

As they jump in, Sam has a devious smirk on his face. Dean then starts the car, Sam leans down to see their reactions and instantly salsa music starts blurring from the radio and the wipers on the windshield start moving, scaring the crap out of him and Y/N. "WOAH!" Dean yells turning off the wipers. "DAMMIT!" Y/N screams, quickly turning the radio off.

They hear Sam laughing as he jumps in the backseat. He licks his finger, putting up a one and pointing to himself with a smug look on his face and they glare at him. "That's all you got? It's weak" Dean scoffs as Sam laughs, closing the door. "That is bush league dude" Y/N adds as rolls her eyes.

________________________________

Y/N's POV

The next day, the boys and I find out that there was a dead girl found this time in the Murdock house. Police are currently taking pictures and reports of the incident as we're walking towards it. "What happened?" Dean asks a man who was at the scene. "Cops say that poor girl hung herself in the house" He tells us.

"Suicide?" I ask him shocked. "Yeah. And she was a straight A student with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense" He says sadly before walking away. "What do you guys think?" Sam asks us as they're wheeling the body out. Dean turns and looks at us, "I think maybe we missed something" He says.

Later that night, the three of us are crouched behind a bush, waiting for the police to leave so we can go investigate again. But they haven't left yet which is strange. "I guess the cops don't want anymore kids screwing around in there" Sam huffs. "Yeah, but we still gotta get in there" Dean says. I then hear some whisper not too far from us.

I turn my head to see Ed and Harry with their geek equipment, trudging through the woods. "I don't believe it" I groan, rolling my eyes. Sam and Dean turn their heads also. "Those idiots are gonna get themselves killed" Sam grumbles. "I got an idea" Dean says, getting up slowly, he cups his hand to his mouth and yells loudly.

"Who you gonna call?!" I bite back a laugh at his Ghostbusters reference. "Hey, you!" A police officer spots Ed and Harry. They panic when they see the officers, "Freeze!" The officer yell, running after them. They begin running away, their equipment partially slowing them down. "Get back here!" They yell at them.

"Come on, don't leave me here!" I hear Ed plead with Harry who's running quicker than him. They boys and I take the clearing to run into the house quickly through the backdoor without them noticing, we shut the door behind us. Sam drops the bag, taking out three rocksalt shotguns, handing one each to me and Dean.

We cock our guns as I shine my flashlight around the house. The light lands on the symbol and I try to remember where I've seen it. "Where have I seen that symbol before." I grumble as I point my flashlight to it. "I know right, it's killing me!" He exclaims. "Come on, we don't have much time" Sam says to us.

We nod and move towards the next room. Walking down into the basement, Dean goes up to a shelf that has a bunch of jars with a weird looking red liquid inside as Sam and I check out the other side. Picking it up, he smirks, "Hey guys, I dare each of you to take a swig of this" Dean says to us, we look at him like he's crazy. "What the hell would we do that for?" Sam cocks his eyebrow.

"I double dare you" He smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I give him a blank stare and shake my head. We then hear creaking by a nearby cabinet, giving each other a look. Me and Dean cock our guns at the door as Sam moves next to it, on the count of three. He quickly opens it and some rats run out squealing.

I grimace as Sam laughs and Dean shudders in disgust, "Ugh. I hate rats" He groans. "You'd rather it was a ghost?" I ask him chuckling. "Yes" He says and I shake my head smiling. Then suddenly I feel the familiar chill run up the back of my neck and I turn my head quickly to see the shadow of a man in a cowboy hat, his wrists slit, holding an axe, ready to chop me.

"Fellas!" I scream, ducking before he can chop me and the boys spin around in an instant, shooting him but he doesn't budge. Disapparating into a black smoke "What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rocksalt?!" Sam yells. "I don't know" Me and Dean respond. "Come on, come on, come on" I grab them to run out of the room.

But the spirit destroyed the shelf of jars and it topples onto me and Dean, throwing us to the ground. The spirit tries to hit Sam but he breaks with his shot gun, "Go! Get out of here!" He yells at me and Dean. Then kicking Murdock in his stomach, we all run up the stairs and bolt for the front door that was board up.

We all crash our bodies through it, breaking it on impact, we fall off the porch and through the police tape. When we get up, we see Ed and Harry with their cameras, "Get that damn thing out of my face!" I yell at them angrily, shoving Ed roughly. "Go, go, go!" Sam shouts. "Get out of here!" Dean shouts at them warningly as we make a break for the Impala.

________________________________

After fleeing for our lives, we are back at the motel. The next morning after getting some rest, Dean is on his bed with his sketch pad, doodling, while Sam and I are at the table doing research. "What the hell is this symbol. It's bugging the hell out of me" Dean says frustrated. "This whole damn jobs bugging me" I agree with him, shaking my head, already fed up.

"Tell me about it, I thought the legend said that Mordechai only goes after chicks." He says. "It does" Sam says. Dean nods, twirling his pen in his finger. "Alright, I mean that explains why he went after you and Y/N. But why me?" Dean mutters, scratching his head. I snort a bit at his burn and Sam's eyes snap over to Dean, glaring at him.

"Hilarious" Sam deadpans. "The legend also says he hung himself. But did you guys see those slit wrists?" I ask them. "Yeah" Dean responds. "What's up with that? And the axe too" Sam points out. "Ghosts are usually pretty strict. Following the patterns over and over" I add as I scroll on the HellHounds website.

"But this mook keeps changing" Dean says. "Exactly" Sam sighs, handing me the book he was reading. I take it from him and hand him the laptop. He then begins scrolling on the website as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. "Im telling you. The way the story goes...wait a minute" Sam goes to say but pauses, turning the laptop to me as he's found something.

"What?" Dean asks him from his bed. My eyes cork up as I quickly read the new post. "Someone added a new posting to the hellhound website" I tell Dean. "Listen to this: 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before spitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in a house for eternity" Sam reads the article out loud.

"Where the hell is this going?" I mutter. "I have no idea" Sam mutters back. "I don't know. But I think I might have just figured out where it all started" Dean says, pointing to his doodle of the symbol. He gives us a smug smile before getting up and grabbing his jacket.

________________________________

We all enter the record shop we were at earlier after Dean explained to us what he figured out. I gotta give it to him, he's smarter than he makes himself out to be. "Hey Craig, you remember us?" Dean calls out to Craig as we enter. From his body language alone I could tell he was annoyed. "Guys, look. I'm really not in the mood to answer any more of your questions, okay?" He says exasperated.

"Oh don't worry, hun. We're just here to buy an album, that's all" I tell him and he sighs relieved turning back. I give Dean a look and he smiles at me as I shuffle through the records and hand him the Blue Oyster Cult album. "You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was. And then I realized it doesn't mean anything" Dean says with a smug tone as we walk towards Craig.

"It's the logo for Blue Oyster Cult" Dean calls him out on his bullshit. Craig freezes, instantly giving himself away. "So tell me Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people" I narrow my eyes at him and Dean hands him the album which he takes. "Now why don't you tell us about that house. Without lying through your ass this time" I say in a snarky tone.

I could see a smirk rise on Deans face at the corner of my eyes as Craig sighs heavily. Panicking. "Alright. I- My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls. Some from some albums. Some from some of Dana's theology textbooks." He begins to explains.

"Then we found out this guy, Murdock, used to live there. So we-" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "So we, made up some story to go along with that. So they told people who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website" He adds rolling his eyes as we listen intently. "Everything just...took on a life of its own. I mean. I thought it was funny at first, but...now that girls dead" He says, absolutely horrified.

I sympathize with him because he's a stupid kid that didn't know any better and was just looking for a kick. They don't know about what's out there but at the same time. It created a mess. "It was just a jokes. You know, I mean, none of it was real. We made the whole thing up. I swear" He stresses, tears forming in his eyes.

The boys and I nod understandably as he sniffles back his tears, "Alright. Thanks" I say to him calmly, offering him a small smile which he returns lightly. The boys and I turn to walk off, "If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?" Dean questions as he walk out. Me and Sam sigh, shrugging. Absolutely stumped.

________________________________

Later, me and Sam are at the motel room while he's taking a shower, I'm by the window smoking a cigarette, waiting for him to finish so I can shower. Dean walks in and throws his keys on the table, a mischievous look on his face. "Hey Princess" He smiles at me, closing the door behind him. "Hey charming..." I cock my eyebrow suspiciously as he pulls out a little familiar looking baggy.

His head pans over to me slowly, before bringing a finger to his lips, "Shhh" He shushes me with a smirk on his face. I shake my head as I take I drag from my cigarette, chuckling lightly. "Hey I'm back!" Dean announces his arrival to Sam as he rips the bag open. "Hey! Where were you?" Sam asks him from the shower.

"Oh I went out!" Dean responds as he throws the itching powder all over Sam's pants and boxers. "Seriously dude. Itching powder?" I grumble at him, dusting my ash into the ashtray. He just winks at me. "Game on, sweetheart" He whispers back, a smirk on his face, blowing me a kiss. I roll my eyes chuckling. "So me and Y/N may have a theory about what's going on!" Sam says from the shower.

"Oh yeah?" Dean questions, still throwing the powder on Sams clothes. ""Yeah, what if Mordechai is a Tulpa?" I suggest. "Tulpa?" Dean questions. Sam then opens the door, walking out from the shower as Dean quickly hides the powder in his powder. "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form" Sam says as he walks out of the shower, naked from the waist up, a towel around his waist.

Dean scratches his head, trying to mask his mischievous actions. I shake my head, holding back a snicker as I crush my cigarette in the tray. "Yeah, no, I know what a tulpa is...Hey, why don't you get dressed. Me and Y/N can go grab something to eat" Dean says quickly, pulling me by my hand before I can protest.

He grabs my leather jacket before giving Sam a cheeky smile, closing the door behind us. "He's gonna kill you" I snicker as he helps me put my jacket on, pulling my hair out from behind it. He smiles at me, flashing me a wink. "Wait till you see what I got in store for later" He brags, I just roll my eyes chuckling. "Boys" I scoff.

________________________________

Third Person POV

They're all now at a diner in town, "There you go, love" The kind man at the counter hands Y/N and Dean their trays of food. "Thank you" She says sweetly, taking her tray as Dean takes his. Y/N turns around as they're walking to a table to see Sam itching away at his pants. Y/N and Dean share a look of amusement as she bites back a snicker at this. "Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asks Sam feigning confusion.

"Nothing, I'm fine" Sam tries to brush it off, still itching. "Yeah?" Y/N asks him innocently. "Yeah" He assures them. "Alright? So uh, keep going. What about these tulpas?" Dean asks me as they take a seat at the table. Sam rests his bag down as he takes a seat. "Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualize a golem in their heads. They meditate on it so hard, they bring the thing to life" Y/N explains while she pops the lid off of her coffee and stirs it up, taking a sip.

"Out of thin air" Sam adds. "So?" Dean questions, taking a sip of his coffee. "That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do" Sam says, pulling his laptop out of the bag. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people, all believing in the bastard." He says, typing on his laptop.

Sam cringes in discomfort, still scratching his legs. "Okay, wait wait wait. So you're trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" Dean cocks his eyebrow. Y/N and Sam shrug. "I don't know, maybe?" Sam says, typing on his laptop, grimacing from the itching. She bites back a smirk as she eat her fries at his discomfort.

'I feel a bit bad for the kid but I'm not saying anything because I'm not trying to be pulled into this.' Y/N thinks to herself.

"People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" Dean says sarcastically. "Because I'm pretty sure you're the first name on Santas naughty list" She shoots back with a cheeky smile. Dean glares at her a bit but a slight smirk rises on his lips.

"I'll show you who's on the naughty list" He whispers to her lowly in a husky tone so Sam wouldn't hear. But he damn well heard, rolling his eyes at their stomach churning flirting, he's too irritated by the itching in his pants to care. A blush rises on Y/N's face but she covers it up with a stunned look. She then raises her foot, kicking his shin below the table with her boot.

Dean huffs a "Ow" as she shoots him a warning look. Dean snickers at her reaction, pleased. "Don't test me, Winchester" She flirts back, matching his tone. Deans smirk grows wider. He seems pleased with her response, she takes notice of the way his chest heaves.

'The things I would do to this breathtaking women. Son of a bitch.'

Dean thinks to himself as he pulls his lower lip in between his teeth, causing her stomach to flutter, a familiar heat rising in her southern region.

'Fuck, what I would do just to get a taste of his lips. Oh god, not now. Seriously y/n? The dudes biting his lip and you're turnt on? Get a grip girl! Thirsty ass bitch.'

Y/N practically mentally reprimands herself for feeling so flustered by Dean.

'Hey God? It's Sam again. Please, I'm begging you. Just make these too lovesick puppies fuck already for Christ's sake.'

Sam internally groans.

Y/N's POV

"Here, look at this" Sams voice breaks us out of our heated gaze. "Hmm?" We both say innocently as Dean clears his throat, Sam then turns the laptop to us, showing us a picture of the symbol we found. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house" Sam says. "Craig said they were painting symbols from a Theology textbook. We're thinking they painted this, not even knowing what it was" Sam explains to Dean, cringing from the itching again.

So I decide to take over. Dean bites back a smirk when he realizes the itching is getting worse. "What Sam's saying, That sigil has been used for centuries. Concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the Helldweebs website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai" I add as Dean nods. "I mean, we don't know, but it might be enough to bring a tulpa to life" I say, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"It would explain why it keeps changing" Dean agrees, taking a sip of his coffee as Sam continues to scratch his legs. "Right. As the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of Telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work" Sam says, pointing to the laptop with one hand, grimacing as he itches.

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit, per se" Dean says. "Yeah" Sam huffs, cringing still itching. "Okay, so why didn't we just uhh... get this spirit signal thingy off the wall and the website?" Dean suggests and I shake my head as I wipe my mouth. "It's not that simple. You see, once tulpas are created, they take on a life of their own" I say. Dean sighs, wiping his nose.

"Great. Alright, so if he really is a Thought-form. How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asks a bit frustrated. "Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us" Sam says, me and Dean roll our eyes at the thought. "Check out their home page" Sam turns the laptop and pulls up the helldorks page to the video they posted of Mordechai. "Holy shit" I gasp in shock as I look at the views.

"Yep. Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone" Sam stresses, nodding at my reaction. "Huh. I got an idea. Come on. You done?" Dean asks me quickly. "Yeah, I'm finished. Where are we going?" I tell him, gesturing to my empty tray as we pick up our coffees and Sam closes his laptop.

"We need to find a copy store" Dean tells us. Sam gets up, still itching his legs. Shakily putting his laptop into his bag. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something" He groans. I can't hold in my amusement anymore so me and Dean begin laughing hysterically at this. "You two did this?" Sam asks us shocked. I shake my head and point at Dean with my thumb.

"It was all him" I snort as Dean continues walking away laughing. "You're a frigging jerk!" Sam shouts at Dean who's still laughing. "Oh yeah!" Dean retorts back chuckling.

________________________________

The boys and I pull up in the trailer park, near Ed and Harrys trailer. "Gosh, can they get anymore geeky" I cringe as I step out of the Impala. "You guys ready?" Dean asks us. "Like Freddy" Sam nods with a smirk. "Let's punk some dorks" I snort. I knock harshly on the door, I'm pretty sure I heard someone squeak. "Who is it?" Harry asks fearfully. The boys snicker at his reaction, "Come on out here guys. We hear you in there!" Dean bellows.

The two open the door and I snort when I see the shelf behind them. "Oh look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock" I say sarcastically as Dean snickers. I notice Ed biting his lips as he looks at me and I cringe. "Guys, we need to talk" Sam says. "Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're a bit busy right now" Ed says smoothly as they step out of their trailer.

Busy my ass. I roll my eyes, "Yeah, well, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website" Dean says plainly with a fake smile which Ed finds funny for some reason. "Man, you know, these guys get us busted last night. We spend the night in a holding cell" Ed laughs while Harry looks annoyed. "I had to pee in that cell, in-front of people. And I get stage fright" Harry complains. "Why should we trust you?" Ed narrows his eyes at us.

"Look guys, we all know what we saw last night. What in that house. But now that's to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai" Sam says. "That's right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person. Somebody could get hurt" Dean warns them. "Yeah?" Ed smirks. "Ed, maybe they've got a point" Harry interjects.

"No" Ed shakes his head. "Nope" Harry suddenly says. Jesus, Harry's practically this dudes Yes Man. "Okay, we have an obligation to our fans, to the truth" Ed says cockily. I chuckle annoyed at this, "Well I have an obligation to kick both your asses right now-" I snap angrily, fearful looks taking over both their faces but Sam and Dean cut me off.

"Y/N/N, hey. Just forget it, alright?" Sam says calmly. "These guys. You could probably bitch slap them both" Dean adds, making the two idiots chuckle arrogantly. I narrow my eyes at them. "I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai..." Sam adds suggestively, Ed and Harry becomes a bit intrigued by this. "But....they're still not gonna help us" Sam sighs.

"Let's just go Princess" Dean says, giving me a knowing look. I get where they're getting at and nod. Putting the plan into action. "Yeah you two are right" I sigh and we begin walking off. The two following behind us like lost puppies. "Woah woah woah. Wait wait" "Hold on a second here" Harry and Ed stutter in unison.

"Yeah, what thing about Mordechai, you guys?" Harry asks us as we walk away, a slight smirk on my face. "Don't tell them, Sam" I say lowly, staying in character. "But if they agree to shut the website down, guys" Sam fake protests. "They're not gonna do it! You said so yourself" Dean denies as we continue walking, the two following behind us. "No, wait wait! Don't listen to them, okay? We'll do it" Ed finally agrees.

We all share a amused look before turning around to them. "It's a secret, Sam" Dean adds, fueling the act. Sam sighs, "Look, it's a pretty big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up" Sam says. "So only if we have your word you'll shut everything down" I add, pointing at them firmly. "Totally" Ed smirks at me, his eyes scanning me up and down. I cringe at this.

"And wipe that look off your face, not even an ocean could quench your thirst dude" I snap at him and he looks down guilty. "Yes ma'am" He salutes, causing me to roll my eyes. "Alright" Sam says, pulling a paper out of his pocket. "It's a death certificate from the 30s. We got it at the library" Sam begins to feed them the fake story as Dean hands them the paper we printed at the copy shop.

"Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self inflicted gunshot wound" Sam tells them as they look at the paper, then up at us. "That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself" Dean says. "He shit himself?" Ed asks us, shocked. "Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them" I respond nodding.

"As a matter of face, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought iron rounds. You'd kill the son of a bitch" Dean adds. The two look at each other in glee. Harry then runs to the trailer. Presumably to post the story. "Thanks gorgeous" Ed winks at me. I scoff as he runs behind Harry. "Harry. Slow your roll, buddy. They're gonna know we're excited" He calls out to Harry lowly.

I notice Deans jaw clench whenever Ed flirts with me. "Dorks" I snort as we walk back to the Impala. "I think one of those dorks has a thing for you, sweetheart" Dean snickers, his jaw still clenching. I roll my eyes as Sam laughs at this. "Please, y/n/n's standards aren't THAT low" He snorts. I shove him lightly as Dean laughs. "I hate you two" I grumble chuckling, causing Sam to laugh more.

________________________________

Due to Deans never ending hunger, we're now again at a diner. Sam on my laptop searching the website, while I'm reading a book about tulpas. I'm next to Dean while Sam is on the opposite side of the booth. Dean, being the man child he is, is currently playing with a string machine that's next to up on the wall.

Where when you pull the string, a man plastic man with a fish in his hand, starts laughing. This has been going on for about five minutes and it's getting annoying. Sam pulls the string, stopping it while we both glare at Dean. "If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you" He deadpans. Dean stares at him blankly. I look back down at my book and pulls the string again, making it laugh.

My head snaps up so instantly raise my foot and kick him in the shin under the table with my boot. "Ow!" He exclaims, a smile on his face. Sam pulls the string to stop it, glaring at Dean who chuckles at the both of us. A cheeky smile on his face. "Come on, guys. You need more laughter in your lives. You know? You're way to tense" Dean chuckles as Sam sips his beer, annoyed.

"I'm fine, thank you" I grumble. "Yeah, sure you are" Dean snorts, making me glare at him.

"Did they post it yet?" I ask Sam, who then turns the laptop with the article to me and Dean, picking up his fork and stabbing his pancake. "We learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms." Dean reads off of the site as Sam nods.

"Alright. So how long do we wait?" I ask them as Sam chews his pancake. He shrugs, shutting the laptop. "Long enough for the new story to spread and the legend to change" Sam suggests, picking up his beer in a toasting manner, "I figure by nightfall, iron rounds would work on the sucker" He smirks, me and Dean pick up our beers and cheers with him. "Sweet" "Hallelujah" Me and Dean say in unison, picking up our beers and gulping them down.

When I go to rest it down I realize it's stuck to my hand, my face contorts to confusion until I see Sam with a smirk on his face, bursting into a fit of laughter, clapping because Dean couldn't put his down either. I clench my jaw in annoyance, "You didn't" Dean says. "Ohhh, I did" Sam laughs, holding up the super glue. I groan, "Dammit man, I didn't do you anything. Why did I get superglued!?" I exclaim. Sam laughs shaking his head

"You saw him throw that itching powder in my clothes and kept your trap shut, you're in this whether you like it or not crackhead" He smirks, sipping his beer. I narrow my eyes at him, "Oh, you're on dipshit" I challenge him, glaring at him. He laughs, pulling the string on the machine, as it blurs out it's annoying ass sound, laughing along with it as Dean and I try to get the bottles off our hands.

________________________________

After practically having to pry our hands off of the beer bottles Sam glued ours to. We stole that weird ass noise making machine that Dean loved playing with at the diner and turned it on outside in the woods for the cops to go looking for the noise, stalling a bit so we can run in, kill Mordechai and shag ass out of town.

The boys and I creep into the Hell House, shining our lights and aiming our guns around after bursting open the door. "I barely have an skin left on my palm" Dean complains. "Quit whining, you started this stupid prank war" I grumble back at him. "I ain't touching that line with a 10-foot pole" Sam retorts as we move into the other room. Scanning it, Dean then kicks the door to the basement down, we all file in carefully.

"Well, you think old Mordechai's home?" Dean asks us. I shrug. "I don't know" Sam responds. "Me either" A voice behind us says, scaring the tartar sauce out of me. We all quickly turn around, aiming our guns in the direction just for it to be those Hell Dorks with their stupid equipment on. "WOAH WOAH!" They both scream, putting their hands up in surrender.

We draw back our guns, "What the hell are you two dumbasses trying to do!? Are you trying to get yourselves killed!?" I yell at them angrily like a disappointed mother. "We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Ed says shakily. Then suddenly the sounds of an axe sharpening comes from the door behind us and we all aim our guns at it

"Oh, crap" Harry mutters. "Uh, guys, you wanna...You wanna go open that door for us?" Ed asks us fearfully from behind us, gulping. "Why don't you?" Dean retorts, absolutely fed up. The door unlocking alone scares them and then, Mordechai comes bursting through the door yelling. The boys and I empty our clips into the bastard who screams in pain and disapparates into a black smoke.

Dean nods at us, giving us a look. We return the nod, "Sam, upstairs, I'll take the rooms, Y/N, stay with dumbledorks" Dean orders as they begin the check the rest of the room. "Oh, god. He's gone, he's gone" Ed gasps in shock. "Did you get him?" Harry asks him. "Yeah, they got him" Ed responds, still frightened. "No, on camera. Did you get him on camera?" Harry asks him shakily. Ed begins to fidget with the camera.

"Well, I...uh..." He tries to look but Harry grabs the camera. "Let me see it, let me see it" That's when Mordechai appears and knocks the camera out of Harry's hand. "Fuck!" I yell startled, ducking when he tries to chop me, disappearing into a black smoke again. They boys enter back the room, "Mordechais still kicking fellas" I inform them.. "Didnt you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?!" He bellows at Ed and Harry.

"Of course we did" Ed says. "Yeah but then our serves crashed" Harry adds and I roll my eyes annoyed. "So it didn't take?!" I ask him. "Uhhhh-" They stutter. "So these- These guns don't work?" Dean asks. "Yeah" Ed answers guiltily, I angrily toss my gun aside. "Great, just great" Dean mutters sarcastically.

"Fellas? Any ideas?" I ask them a bit panicked, they both give an 'I don't know' expression. "We are getting out of here" Harry says, rushing off but Ed is stuck in place. He runs back and grabs Ed. "Come on, Ed" He drags him out in a hurry. Then we hear Ed and Harry screaming. "Jesus, he's gonna kill them" I mutter, Sam goes to play hero.

Running in to save them. "Let's torch this sucker" Dean suggesst, "Yeah, fire always works" I agree nodding, we rush into the kitchen to get lighter fluid, dousing the ground it in. "Dean! Y/N!" We hear Sam yell. I grab an old can of bug spray and a lighter. "Hey!" I yell at Mordechai who has Sam up on the wall with his axe, choking him.

Igniting the lighter with the bug spray. "Go! Go!" I yell at Sam who breaks out of Mordechais hold. "Come on" I help him up, grabbing him to run over to Dean. "Look, if Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him" I say quickly. "We improvise" Dean adds. He then lights the lighter and throws it where we doused the place in lighter fluid.

The whole room sets aflame. Sam looks baffled but we all run out of the house and into the bushes as the whole house sets on fire. "That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam asks us. "Well no one will go in anymore" Dean defends "I mean, look. Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt" I say. "It's fast and dirty but it works" Dean adds. "What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?" Sam says baffled.

I pause. Why the fuck did I not think of that? "Well, then we'll just have to come back" Dean shrugs. Sam looks at us in disbelief, breathing heavily, "Kind of makes you wonder, out of all the things we've hunted. How many of those things existed just because people believed in them" Sam wonders out loud and I can't help but agree with him as we watch the house burn.

________________________________

The next evening, the boys and I are hanging out on a picnic table at the trailer park as Ed and Harry walk out towards their car that's attached to their trailer, holding grocery bags. "I was thinking that Mordechai had a really super high attack bonus" Ed says to Harry. "Dude, I got the munchies right now" Harry snickers.

"Gentleman and gorgeous" Ed greets us, a wide smile on his face. "Hey guys" Sam responds back. "Should we tell them?" Harry asks Ed. "Eh, might as well. They're gonna read about it in the trades" Ed says boastfully. Me and Sam share an amused look as they begin to brag. "So, this morning we got a phone call from some important Hollywood producers" Harry brags as we follow behind them.

"Oh yeah, wrong number?" Dean retorts with a snort. "No smartass" Ed glares at him. "He read all about the Hell House on our website and what a to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it" He says boastfully as he puts the bags in their car. "And create the RPG" Harry adds.

"The what?" Dean cocks his eyebrow in confusion as me and Sam bite back laughs. "Role playing game" Ed says as if it's obvious. "Right" Dean says, still confused. "Just a little lingo for you. Anywho, excuse us, we're off to La-La Land" Ed smirks, his eyes panning over to me.

"Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great" Sam says sarcastically. "Yeah, that's awesome. Best of luck" Dean adds, snickering. A smug look takes over Eds face. "Oh yeah, luck. It's got nothing to do with it. It's about talent. You know, sheer, unabashed talent" He says as Harry nods proudly.

Ed then bites his lip and I roll my eyes, bracing myself. "You're welcome to jo-" He goes to flirt again. "I'd rather eat my own filth, Venkman" I snap back, narrowing my eyes at him. He shrugs nonchalantly, "Your loss, gorgeous. Later" He winks at me before giving us a peace sign, jumping into their car. Cocky bastard.

I scoff at this, not feeling bad whatsoever for setting them up. We watch as they drive off. The boys and I share an amused look as Dean mutters "Wow", while we walk back to the car. "We have a confession to make" Sam breaks, holding back his laugh. "What's that?" dean asks us, looking down smiling.

"We uh- we're the ones that called them and told them we were producers" I admit. Me and Sam chuckle as Dean looks at us shocked. Turning back to look at their car, bursting into hysterics. "Well, I'm the one who out the dead fish in their back seat" Dean confesses. I laugh loudly along with the boys. "I knew I smelt something!" I laugh as Dean grins proudly.

"Truce?" Sam ask Dean. "Yeah, truce. At least for the next hundred miles." Dean says, getting into the Impala along with Sam. "Don't worry, Princess. We won't drag you into it this time" Dean assured me, starting the car as I'm still outside. Too late for that, darling. I take a step back from the car and then BOOM!

The second the ignition starts, flour explodes inside of the Impala. Coating them all over, inside of Baby. They both cough, glaring at each other angrily. "You said truce!" Dean growls at Sam. "I didn't do this!" Sam exclaims. Their gazes snap over to me as I laugh hysterically, bending over, clutching my stomach. I pull out the flour bag from my jacket and wave it in the air victoriously.

"You didn't!" Sam exclaims. "Ohhh, I did" I mock his words from earlier when he stuck our hands to the beer bottles. Jumping in the back seat, “Victory is mine!” I claim proudly, grinning at them. "This is gonna take me forever to clean dude!" Dean groans in annoyance. "Maybe next time don't drag me into it" I shrug innocently, smirking as the boys glare at me.

This makes me laugh even more. “Awwww, turn those frowns upside down fellas. At least for the next 100 miles at least" I tease them, leaning over to fix Deans frown with my fingers. I notice he holds back a laugh, Sam shakes his head in amusement.

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Authors Note: Hiiiii, sorry this one took be a bit longer. I went on a trip recently so I’ve been pretty busy but I hope you guys enjoyed this one. This chapter is unedited but I do plan on coming back and editing it so just ignore any mistakes. Just a little insider, Y/N’s flour prank was symbolic to Sam’s cookie prank when they were 13. Let’s just say, she’s still salty about that one LOL. Make sure to leave your honest comments and thoughts, I look forward to them, love y’all😘

Xoxo

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