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girls-scenarios · 5 years

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Let’s Ride

Idol: Soyeon ((G)I-dle)

Prompt: Soyeon’s only soft spot was for you, her girlfriend. Biker Gang!AU

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: So this recent comeback has me crushing on these girls hard. Who said they could be this cool? Anyway, this wasn’t requested, but I wanted to write something for Soyeon and this popped into my head so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing, minor violence, mentions of blood, drinking

♡ Tip Jar♡

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The sun was bright, burning down onto the pavement as a blonde-haired woman sneered down at the man cowering under her boot. Behind her, five girls dressed in leather gear stood beside their bikes, daring anyone to come any closer with their hands in their pockets and their eyes narrowed to the glaring sun. Sand mixed with the dry air whipped up as a car flew past on the nearby highway, but none of the girls even flinched, shoulders back and chins up. “Do you want me to cut out your tongue?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

“You’re damn right, you didn’t know.” The woman kicked, sending the man flying backwards. The bare skin of his arm almost sizzled against the heated pavement, and he let out a hiss of pain as the woman stalked closer. “That’s not an excuse, though. You expect me to let you off the hook just because you didn’t know who she was?” Again, she kicked, making contact with his jaw. A sickening crack echoed through the parking lot, and the man on the floor let out a howl of pain. “This is how I treat men like you. Men who don’t know not to fuck with women.”

“Soyeon! Soyeon, that’s enough! You’re going to seriously hurt him!” A voice rang out from behind one of the girls, and the blonde woman turned around, wrinkling her nose as you moved away from Soojin’s protective hand, eyes wide. “You’ve made your point, let’s just go.”

“But he disrespected you. He touched you. He would have done worse had I not been here.” Soyeon turned to spit down at the man on the ground. “He deserves worse than this.”

“Soyeon. Love, please. I don’t need you killing anyone for me.”

With a huff, she turned around to kick at the man’s body one last time before pulling her keys from her pocket. “Fine. Consider this a warning, you motherfucker. Do something like this again and they won’t find your body.” Then, turning her back to him, she marched back to the wall of motorcycles and took her helmet from Minnie’s tattooed arms before turning to look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled at her and picked up your own helmet from the back of her bike, leaning in to kiss her cheek as she stopped in front of you. “I’m okay, because of you. Let’s get going, now. I want to go home.”

Those words were all she needed to hear, and she turned to her gang with a smirk, lifting her helmet up to her head. The desert shined in the sun out in front of them, and the highway seemed to be calling their name as they followed her lead, suiting up for the long trip ahead. “Ladies? Let’s ride.”

Riding was thrilling. That was how you’d fallen for Soyeon in the first place: sitting on the back of her motorcycle, clutching at her leather jacket with the wind flowing through your hair as the road whipped by. Something about the speed and the way you could feel every movement of the road underneath you on the bike was addicting, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away after that first ride. You didn’t ride yourself, but you could often be found perched behind Soyeon, enjoying the view from the back of the motorcycle as the gang moved from place to place. Your girlfriend had offered to teach you how to ride, or even to get you a bike of your own, but you always refused: you liked things the way they were. And you hoped they’d never change.

Home was a small house on the outskirts of town near the desert highway, surrounded by cacti and desert flowers that Shuhua had worked so hard to plant and care for. On the outside, the house was unassuming. Shuhua’s cute, desert-themed welcome sign kept outsiders on one side of the door, and the gang on the other, shielding them from the prying eyes of neighbors to do as they liked.

Inside was a different story. Miyeon and Soojin made sure the house stayed clean, for the most part, and Soyeon kept records of her favorite songs on the walls to give it a decorated feeling, but the inside of the house still betrayed the rough nature of the group. The furniture was all old and used, save for the recliner that Soojin stole from her ex’s house. There was no specific styling to the house: leather pieces mixed with ugly, stained cloth chairs that Miyeon covered with tattered blankets, and some of the girls just slept on mattresses on the floor, because it was easier that way. The TV was new (you had decided not to ask Soyeon where she got it) but the kitchen was old. It seemed like every day that Soyeon and Yuqi were down on the floor trying to fix the oven or fridge. The house was littered with things from every member, from Shuhua’s makeup collection and Yuqi’s school books to Miyeon’s violin and Soyeon’s old ballet shoes tucked in the closet. Your own things had been added in somewhere along the way, and the house looked a mess. But it also looked like found family and acceptance, and that was why you loved it. That was why it felt like home when you came in after a long ride and flopped down in the blanket-covered couch.

“I got so much dust in my mouth when we made that stop,” Minnie complained as everyone stepped inside, peeling off outer layers and rushing for the cool water bottles in the fridge. “I don’t think I’ll ever get it rinsed out.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. A little dust never hurt anyone,” Miyeon said in return, watching with curious eyes as you turned on the TV. “I wonder if that man reported us to the police?”

“He better not have, or he’ll pay.” Soyeon’s voice was so nonchalant as she said it, and you rolled your eyes, reaching out from the couch to pull her back by shirt.

“Oh, hush and sit with me. You get so riled up over things.”

“Only when it comes to you,” she said with a huff, but she sat down beside you and placed her head on your shoulder, making Soojin snort out a laugh.

“Sure,” she whispered, just loud enough for Soyeon to hear, making the other girl throw a towel at her, but it just made everyone laugh, missing her by a foot.

“Hey, hey! Stop fighting and tell me what’s for dinner! I’m starving,” Yuqi said, whining from the kitchen.

“Whatever you’re making,” Miyeon said in return, making the younger girl whine even louder.

“Meat. I want meat!”

Shuhua perked up at the table and brought her water bottle away from her mouth. “Same.”

“Count me in!”

“Minnie, act your age.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Who’s going to pay for this meat, now?”

You watched with a smile as the girls went back and forth, sounding like a real family. Everyone was so comfortable and happy around each other, and it made you feel good to be a part of it. It felt like home, and as Soyeon slipped her hand town to hold yours and Yuqi came running over to flop down on top of her, begging her to buy meat, you couldn’t help laughing, a swell of affection in your chest. There was no where else you’d rather be than here.

Sometimes at night, the bed dipped down on Soyeon’s side and she disappeared into the night. She never woke you up on these late-night runs, and you never asked where she went, just listening to the rumble of the bikes starting up outside your window with your eyes squeezed shut.

You knew what Soyeon was capable of. You knew what happened to Soojin’s ex. You knew what could be happening when they rode off into the dark night. But you didn’t want to pry (and you didn’t want to know for sure) so you just willed yourself to go back to sleep, hoping that Soyeon would come back unhurt.

“What did you do to yourself this time?”

“She got into a fight with a guy twice her size.”

“And won!”

“Yeah, but she got a nasty cut on her face from his broken bottle. I don’t know if I’d call that winning.”

“Ow! Ow, that hurts!”

At midnight, you’d been shocked awake by the sound of the girls yelling and had jumped out of bed, fearing the worst. Sure enough, Soyeon had been slumped in their arms, bleeding profusely from a cut on her face but with a drunk grin on her face that said she didn’t regret a thing. Now, you had Soojin and Minnie hold her down as you cleaned the wound, rolling your eyes at her whining and twitching.

“Maybe you should have thought of the pain before you jumped on a man twice your size, babe,” you said as you pulled away the soaked cotton swap and peered in at the cut. It wasn’t as deep as you’d thought it was, which meant it would probably heal right without stitches. Still, it wasn’t going to be healing any time soon, and you sighed as you pulled out the gauze and bandages from your first aid kit. “You’re going to be wearing a big bandage on your face for a while now. Hope you’re happy.”

“Shows how badass I am,” she drawled, and you glanced at Miyeon, who was teetering slightly but seemed much more sober than most of the group.

“How much did she drink tonight?”

“Not too much. I think she’s just drunk on her own hubris.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“Yes, you are.” You pushed your girlfriend back against the couch and carefully held the bandage over the cut, wanting to get the placement right. “You’re going to ruin your beautiful face if you don’t cut it out.”

“I’m not beautiful, I’m badass!”

“Sure, sure.” Gently, you applied the bandage and let out another little sigh, sitting back to look at your work. “Just don’t take that off. I don’t want blood on my sheets.”

“‘Kay.”

“Off to bed, everyone. Your damage has been done.”

“Aw, but it’s only midnight,” Minnie whined, making you turn to her and cross your arms.

“Yes, but I’m not patching up any more accidents tonight. So go to bed and stay out of trouble.”

Yuqi groaned and leaned into Shuhua like your words were the worst thing she’d ever heard, but Soojin let go of Soyeon and stood up, clapping her hands. “You heard the boss’s wife. Off to bed.”

“We aren’t married,” you pointed out, but the girls ignored your words, chattering as they moved off towards the bedrooms. Groaning, you rubbed your head, sensing an oncoming headache as you turned back to your girlfriend on the couch. “Come on. We’re going to bed too.”

“Carry me.”

“No. You can get up on your own.” Despite your own words, you held out your hand to help her up, supporting her weight with your shoulder as she stood and leaned into you. She smelt of tequila (which explained a lot of things) and you wrinkled your nose as you led her to the bedroom the two of you shared. “God. How many shots did you have tonight?”

“Like. Four? Five? I dunno.”

“This is why you’re always getting yourself into trouble. You need to learn some self control.” As you approached the bed, you loosened your grip on her letting her flop down onto the bed on her own before you went back to close the door and turn out the lights. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. You can’t sleep in leather pants.”

“Watch me!”

“See? This is the attitude that gets you in trouble.” As you approached her, she pouted at you, sitting up to take off her shirt, and you wondered if anyone else had ever seen this side of Soyeon. Probably not, now that you thought about it. The thought made you chuckle to yourself as you helped her out of her pants. What would people think if they saw the rough and tough, fearless Soyeon pouting at her girlfriend?

“Are you mad at me?” Soyeon asked as she laid back down, and you shrugged, climbing into bed next to her.

“I’m mad that you got yourself hurt again.”

“Oh.” She turned to look at you, pouting once again, and you couldn’t resist the urge to reach over and tuck her short blonde hair behind her ear.

“You know I can’t stay mad at you. But I get worried when you hurt yourself like this, you know? What if one day you get yourself so hurt I can’t help you? That’s why I get mad at you.”

“Yeah.” Soyeon stayed quiet for a minute before reaching over to pull you into her arms. “I won’t do that. I promise I’ll always come back to you. Just wait for me, okay?”

With a smile, you held her back, enjoying her careful, gentle caress. This was the side of her that you loved the most. The side of her reserved just for these nights with you. And you knew that you could never leave her side. “I’ll always wait for you. Just stay alive for me.”

��You’ve got yourself a deal, beautiful.”

Laughing at the nickname, you pulled away to give her a soft kiss. “Goodnight, babe. I love you.”

The smile she gave you when you pulled away made everything worth it. All the worrying, the fixing, the weird things you’d had to get used to. You’d ride with her to the end of the world to see that smile. And you knew she’d do the same for you.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

#(g)i-dle #(g)idle #idle #soyeon #femifics #g idle #idle soyeon #jeon soyeon #idle soyeon scenarios #(g)idle scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups

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storiesabouthumanandthings · 5 years

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Milkshake 2

The Final Yard

(Y'all asked for it so here it is. What stupid horror isn't completely without a shittier sequel. Thank you all for your support. It really help me write this sequel with all parts that were nagging me from the first story)

(Small edit, i just realized I said summer and school was going on, doesn't really agree so i changed it to spring to get a better timeline)

The woman across the street noticed the girl throw away what appeared to be a perfectly good blender that she also saw her bring home a few days before. She thought it was weird she was throwing it out but her blender just broke and she needed a new one anyways. This would hopefully last her until payday to buy a new blender.

Through out the week, the woman made plenty of drinks. She crushed ice and made smoothies. She made probably too many frozen margaritas but work was stressful at the lumberyard and that was a good way to relax. She was beginning to think she didn't even need to buy a new blender as this old one was working better than her last fancy expensive model.

Come the end of the week, the spring temperatures were climbing fast and hitting record highs. She needed something cool. Nothing's better than a thick shake on a hot night. She threw together the ingredients, mostly just ice cream to make it extra thick. While the blender mixed, she could hear a motorcycle outside. She peered through her blinds. It was the girl across the road and her new motorcycle friend. She remembered how last week the police came around asking questions about what happened. She said she didn't see much. She did hear screams and looked out her window. It looked like a party to her but there was no music or red plastic cups. The police wrote it down as vandalism but the woman was sceptical. She knew the family for a while. They got along with everyone No one in town would want to harm them. She still believed that it was the daughter. The girl must invited boys over for a party that got out of control and covered it up. That's just what teenagers would do. She remembered the mischief she has as a teenager, simpler times. She went back to her shake, well mixed now. She poured herself into a travel mug, screwed a lid on with a straw.

She plopped down on the couch and began watching The Bachelorette. She loved this show, 12 handsome men fighting over her, that's the life. She was booing at the tv when the bachelorette was sending what she considered one of the better men home when a banging from the front door came. "I didn't order any pizzas, go away." The banging continued, "or girl scout cookies!" The knocking still continued, "this better be important!" She yelled as she put on a robe. She was just in boxer shorts and a loose tshirt. She liked her robe, it was long and flowy, made her fell like she was a wife of rich husband. It was bright pink and most was sheer with a puffy trim. She gave a fun spin before opening the door.

It was the neighbor from the block over. If she woke up early enough, she got to watch him run by in hit tight, tight clothes, glistening in sweat. She giggled and fanned herself, "if i knew it was you, i would have came much faster." His head seemed to bobble on his shoulders as he grunted. She stood there confused, normally hearing him speak, he was very articulate. They never really have talked before other than quick passing. "Do you need a cup of sugar, sugar?" She smiled. Again, no answer, "are you drunk?" She was becoming frightened. He was just standing there. Not even looking at her, just standing. She heard a thud and looked over her shoulder and saw more gentlemen from the neighborhood. Some had their wives or girlfriends after them, yelling to them but they didn't answer.

By this time there was enough of a commotion that the girls looked from behind the tarps that covered the girl's broken windows. The insurance was dragging their feet as always. They saw what was going on and immediately leaped into action.

The delivery girl came out of the house screaming, holding a baseball bat. The girl followed quietly behind with a tennis racket, squeezing threw the hole the delivery girl made by shoving men to the ground. The delivery girl shoved the gentleman at the door out of the way, pointing her bat at any who came near. "Atleast they have self preservation" she yelled as the girl ducked under the bat. "Ok, now where is?" The girl asked. The woman was confused, "where's what? What's going on?" The girl pointing the racket accusingly, "the stupid blender! Some crazy woman sold to me, put some curse on it and now when milkshakes are made, all the boys flock to it like zombies! And you must have taken it from my trash! Now where is it?!" The woman pointed towards the kitchen. Banging at the door began as the sounds of bang in the kitchen began. Eventually both noises stopped.

The girl came out of the kitchen with a broken racket on her shoulder, hair in her face, "i think that worked." The was when the gentleman leap threw and broke the window. "NOPE!" said the delivery girl. "Where's your car?" "In the garage!" They all ran to the garage. The delivery girl jumped in the driver seat. "Hey, that's my car." "I know. Hurry up and get in and I'll drive us to safety." The woman began to argue when the door broke open. They all jumped into car, locking the doors. The men slowly walked in as the garage door began to open. As soon as the door open, the delivery girl floored the car in reverse. The gentleman was holding tight to the hood. As the delivery girl turned sharply onto the road, he rolled off. He slowly got up and again began following the car. The delivery girl sped away.

After a moment the woman yelled, "will some please explain what the fuck is going on?" The girl spoke first, "i did. You made a milkshake in a haunted blender and now they are all coming for you. We tried throwing it away but then you stole it. So our next option was to just destroy it and that didn't work."

The woman rolled her eyes and turn to the delivery girl, "and i thought you'd be the pothead." The delivery girl slammed on the breaks, "hey! we just saved your ass there! Now if you want, we can drive back and return." The woman shook her head and the delivery girl continued driving.

They arrived at the delivery girl's work again, Barnyard Pizzas. She instructed the woman to stay in the car. The girls got out and went in. The girl was confused, "what are we doing here? This is where we go attacked last time!" "Yeah, i know," the delivery girl replied shrugging, "but I'm hungry and I want to see what happens now we know something is up." The girls place their order and waited. The staff that night was another girl. No reaction from her it seemed. By the time their pizza was ready, the parking lot was filling of men. "This is weird," commented the delivery girl. "Yeah, like a horror movie of Zombies." The delivery girl shock her head, "not that. But remember when you got chased, it was mostly the neighborhood boys?" The girl nodded. "Well if you look, its mostly older men." Sure enough, looking at the crowd, it was mostly men around the womans age. "But why?" The delivery girl shrugged, "pheromones? Age compatibility? Who knows? You said a crazy witch made this curse." The girls quickly paid for their pizza and ran out before they were blocked by the men.

"Were to now?!" Griped the woman. The delivery girl looked at the girl in the rear window, "any ideas?" "My idea was to destroy the stupid blender." "Is there a place where we can hide?" The girl thought and put her hands in her pockets. She heard a jingling and pulled out her keys, "well i have the keys to my mom's office? Will that work?" "Just point the way." They shortly got to the office and locked the door.

"Now what!? We just hide here for the night?" The woman was working on the delivery girl's last nerve. She staged whispered to the girl, "can we just leave this old hag and let her fend for herself?" The girl chuckled and shook her head, "we have to break this curse."

The 3 sat there trying to think of an answer when the car alarm went off. The delivery girl was the only one brave enough to look. "Now this is weird." "What is it?" The woman cried scared. The delivery girl continued, "the men are back but they seem different...." "different how?" Asked the girl. "Well they aren't organized. Like they know she's here but something isn't right?" The girl looked out and saw that the men were disoriented. Before they always were all facing the same way, very pointed. Now they all are just wondering, bumping into things, "they seem lost." The delivery girl nodded, "yeah, like in her yard, they all charged at her. Same with you and her at Barnyard Pizza and you in the school yard..." the girl looked away and was quiet. She then screamed, "that's it, you're a genius!" grabbing the delivery girl's face, giving a big kiss. The delivery girl tried to act cool but her voice cracked as that was actually their first kiss, "yeah, I know but why?" The girl shook her finger to herself thinking out, "that's it, that's the joining factor. But how to test it?" "Test what?" The woman asked scared. The girl's head whipped up at the woman, "that's it. Everyone in the car!"

They all filed out, first the delivery girl holding her bat high. The woman was in the middle, crouched and holding her long robe tight to herself. The girl took her time, relocking the doors as they left. "Hurry up!" snarled the woman. "Why?" The girl replied, "they aren't attacking." That is when the woman and the delivery girl looked around and noticed it was true. The men were there but none were approaching. "What the hell is going on?" The delivery girl asked. The girl confidently walked to the car, "there is missing a piece. Now get in to test my hypothesis."

They all got in and drove to the next location. The woman groaned, "why did you make me come to work on my day off?" The delivery girl nodded, "yeah, why are we at the lumberyard?" The girl smiled, "spoilers." While waiting for whatever was supposed to happen, the delivery girl tried starting up a game, "i spy something with my little eye, something brown" the woman rolled her eyes, "if its wood again, i am going to bet you with a 2x4." "Men!" Blurted out the girl. " nope, not wood or men." It was the girl's turn to roll her eyes, " no, not your game. The men have returned." Behind the car, a horde of men headed towards them. "But why?! Why me?!" Cries the woman. The girl shook her head, "i don't know. It seems this curse has 2 parts. First the woman makes a milkshake. Second is the men come to the yard, literally any yard." The delivery girl nodded "ok but we destroyed the milkshake and blender." The girl nodded, "that's what stopped it last time but why not this time." The woman groaned, "i still have a milkshake." The girls screamed together, "you what?!" The woman screamed back defensively "well how was i supposed to know a stupid shake would brainwash all the men." The delivery girl slumped in the chair, "now what?" The girl shook her head, "i have an idea but your not going to like it."

Shortly they were back on their streets. it was packed with men. "I can't drive through that with running someone over." The girl nodded, "this is the epicenter. We are going have to get out." "Are you insane?!" Screamed the woman. The delivery girl nodded, "i hate to say this but I'm with her. There's hundreds of men, 3 of us, and we have to get to center of the block." The girl holding up her dented, destroyed racket, "well, time to go crazy." The girl exited the car. When the door slammed shut all the men turned towards the car. The girl gulped. She then screamed, "For Narnia!" She began running into the crowd, knocking men to the ground, hitting their knees with the racket. The delivery girl got out of the car and gripped the bat tight, "Leroy Jenkins!" And ran after the girl. The woman got out of the car, "dont leave me! I just want to go to bed!" And ran after the girls. She quickly caught up to the girls as the crowd was thick with bodies. The girls arranged for the woman to bed in the middle as they swung their weapons wildly. Occasionally a man would get close and the girls would bat them back.

They re-entered the house threw the garage, "now where's the damn shake at?!" Screamed the delivery girl. All were sweating by this point, panting. "I think it's by the couch, in a travel mug." They fight a few more men on there way there, leaving a trail of bodies grasping their knees. The reach the living room. "Not him." Whines the woman. It was the gentleman. "What is up with this psycho?" Complained the delivery girl. The girl slowly turn to the woman mumbling to herself the witch's words, 'the boy to the yard.' She exclaims out loud "she's in love with him, he's the ultimate boy, like the boss!" "I don't love him," scoffs the woman. Both girls look at the woman accusingly. "Fine. I may have a bit of a crush on him." The girl rolled her eyes and shoved the woman to the gentleman. They fell to the floor, the woman falling on top of him. Running, the girl grabs the milkshake cup off the table in front of the couch, "batter's up!" The delivery girl caused the cup to shatter, creating a liquid spray across the livingroom. A stream of cussing came from the kitchen from the men holding their knees. The gentleman blinked, "what's going on?" He looked at the woman. "Are you ok?" The woman simply nodded, "i, uh, fell." "Where from, heaven?" The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed the delivery girl's hand as she made childish gagging noises.

Sure enough, just like last time, the crowd of men slowly dispersed from the area, confused on how they got there. The girl's walked back to the girl's house. "That was a work out. I'm starving! Can we go get dinners?" The girl asked. The delivery girl laughed, "we had pizza!" The girl grumbled, "but that annoying woman ate most of it." "How bout we go for a ride on my motorcycle and we can go get some burgers and shakes." The girl stopped, "I don't think I can look at another milkshake for as long as i live." The delivery girl laughed, "well i just want to taste your lips again." The girl blushed deeply, forgetting that she did that. She cleared her throat before beginning towards the bike, "maybe but first we eat!" "Deal!" Said the delivery girl, giving the girl a peck on the cheek and rushing to her motorcycle cycle. The girl thought to herself, 'damn that sexy bike and leather jacket.'

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#humans are weird #milkshake #my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard #milkshake 2 #the final yard #wlw story #wlw

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thebrotherswholoved · 6 years

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dreaming a festive little dream

summary: You always look back on the bad times when you're standing in front of everything you've always wanted. Perhaps Santa brought him that astronomy book he wanted as a kid, or maybe his gift already arrived and he'll be reminded of how lucky he truly is.

content: dadchesters, parent!wincest, family bonding, only fluff/a bit of saddening nostalgia I guess, kiddos causing trouble, domestic bants

read on Ao3

Sam would be lying if he said he'd always adored Christmas.

For the longest time, it was the complete opposite. He abhorred the holiday and those stupid ornaments, tacky trees, and annoying carolers that would come to the motel door every year without fail, even though they never spent any two Christmases in the same place. Class parties were upsetting and made seven-year-old Sam run to the bathroom with tears rolling down his pudgy little cheeks at the sight of all the parents surprising their children at school. The teachers would forget about him and continue pouring green and red Kool Aid into cheap Dixie cups while he plucked at the strings of his short-sleeve, too-thin-for-winter shirt in a dingy restroom to make the tears stop. In fact, the only reason he'd return to class at all is because those candy apples, mince pies, and dollar store chocolates would make up the only meal he'd had in two days. Dean would try to feed him at the room after school but he'd say that he had lunch there so his older brother would feed himself at last in lieu of sacrificing yet another meal for his chubby little sibling.

Sam would ignore the rumbling in his stomach when he woke up on Christmas Day to find stolen presents under the dining table and an air freshener tree taped to the side before rushing to hug and kiss Dean's eleven-year-old cheeks and watching as he tried to hide his frost-nipped fingers from view, which happened without a doubt the night prior when he stole gifts from the neighbors. He wasn't as oblivious as Dean had hoped, after all.

John would call them for four and a half minutes tops and tell them to clean the guns and pack their things to leave in a few hours when he'd return, but not after a trip to a dive bar decked out with tinsel and Nat King Cole playing on the radio, which would be the only thing to remind him that he missed another Christmas with his sons—not that he cared. The blood of some ghoul or monster would stain his hands when he handed over a twenty dollar bill to pay off his tab, which is twice as much money that he gave to his boys for a few days. He beat the monster and to him, that's all that mattered.

Twenty-eight-year-old Sam Winchester wakes up with a start from his nightmare and shudders at the lingering feeling of cold numbness in his nose from the blizzard his mind had flung him into for the night. He sits up and expects the familiar chilly air and lack of insulation in another podunk motel room and to feel the abrasiveness of scratchy ninety-nine cent sheets on a Dateline oh-god-I-hope-that's-paint mattress, but finds nothing of the sort. Thirty dollar flannel sheets layer over him and shield him from the thermostat-regulated seventy-six degree room, which is painted a nice grey instead of the peeling wallpaper he saw in his dream.

The clock on his bedside table reads just before ten o'clock, a time which is verified by the gentle sweeping of sunshine bleeding into the room through the curtains. The room is splashed a golden yellow by the rays of light and this bright intrusion prompts him to stand up onto his feet and begin walking through his house. His dream created a film inside his mind and he feels foreign in this beautiful home—no empty beer bottles or pizza boxes, no flickering lights or broken taps, no neighbors going at it like animals in heat or pipes squeaking under the pressure of water coursing through their copper interiors. The chair rail is painted white and matches the molding strips; there are pictures framed on the walls of children—their children—taken professionally for birthdays and Christmases and anniversaries; and there’s a clanging sound coming from what’s presumably the kitchen given the open layout, followed by a gruff voice laughing and shushing the source of the sound.

Sam looks down at what he’s wearing and it all starts coming back to him: his red and white striped pyjamas were pointed out to him as a joke by Dean in a Pottery Barn catalogue but were bought anyway, the smell of pine needles and spice are coming from the tree in the corner of the living room, and the noises are indeed resonating from the kitchen. Something is dropped onto the floor with a bang which makes him jump, and he concludes that it’s not just him who’s startled by the sound of the shrill screech and gruff ejaculation that follows.

“Son of a—a gun!” Dean places a hand on his chest and catches his breath after the scare. He then looks at his and Sam’s children with an incredulous glare. “Which of you little monsters just took twenty years off my life?”

Sam leans against the entryway wall and watches as their oldest, Caden, smiles with maniacal eyes and raises his hand, making his Dad roll his eyes.

“Of course!” He swings the four-year-old into his arms as they both laugh, Caden letting out helpless giggles as Dean tickles him. “You are a little rascal.”

His eyes then shift to his and Dean’s youngest child, Paisley, who shrieks and claps her hands when she sees him, climbing out of her chair and waddling with bowed little legs over to him. She calls for “Daddy” and he meets her in the middle of the room where he scoops her up in his arms and sees her bright green eyes light up with glee when he pokes her chubby middle. Paisley’s tiny hands grasp at Sam’s hair which prompts him to push it back behind his ears and kiss his daughter’s tiny freckled nose. Whenever he has the chance to get a good look at Caden’s and Paisley’s features, it hits him for the umpteenth time how much they resemble their fathers.

Dean frowns when he sees his husband with their daughter, but not for the reason one may think. Caden pats his Dad’s cheeks with hands coated in powdered sugar and hoists himself onto his back to piggyback ride him and he pouts.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Sasquatch.”

Sam hums when Paisley starts to bite at her little chewy bracelet they have her wear for oral stimulation, per suggestion of her pediatrician. “You guys aren’t exactly quiet, are you?”

Caden shakes his head and lets wavy hazelnut hair fall into his eyes. “Dada’s letting us cook.”

“We decided to make you breakfast before opening what Santa brought last night,” Dean explains and rubs his neck when their son drops down off his back.

He claims it’s because he has “cervical spine issues” that just decided to surface at age thirty-two but he gets just as flustered and nervous around Sam as he did as a teen and as a young adult when they first started “dating.” Admitting that to his husband, however, would be like admitting to murder—murder of his masculinity, that is, which is already fragile since the season of PETA adverts began. Sam still curls the longer pieces of his hair around his fingers whenever he finds himself more vulnerable than usual to Dean’s cuteness and susceptible to seduction after the kids are in bed. Nothing’s changed since their first date—with the exception of a house, marriage certificate, and two kids, of course.

“Aw,” Sam puts Paisley down on the floor and she runs as fast as her stubby, bowed legs will carry her to whatever her brother is doing in front of the TV. “I am loved after all.”

Dean lets out a huff and snakes his arms around his husband’s waist. “We have suspiciously fluffy pancakes, some extra crispy toast, scrambled eggs with a bit too much milk, and some actually decent hot cocoa.”

“I’ll take whatever’s edible, “ he knocks their foreheads together, “if you give me a kiss.”

“Ugh, I guess I can comply,” Dean rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss the love of his life, sleepy eyes fluttering shut in the safety of each other’s arms and in the security of the life they’ve built together.

Sam pulls back with some blue frosting on his nose and gives his brother a questioning eyebrow raise. He exhales with a soft laugh in reply. “We also baked cookies. Blue trees and green snowflakes like Pais wanted.”

“You’re such a great dad, De,” he rubs the other man’s shoulders with a grin. “I love you.”

“I know. You got lucky, Sammy,” Dean kisses him again. When they part, he whispers against his lips and runs his pointer finger over his chin. “Now the kids might actually kill us if we don’t let them open their presents, so can you go distract them while I get breakfast ready?”

Sam can’t help but laugh at his comment yet nods nonetheless. “I’ll keep you safe from our four and one year old children, I promise.”

“You’d better!” He calls over his shoulder as he walks back into the kitchen to clean up the mess and plate the viable food. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas, Jerk,” Sam shouts, walking to the family room to watch the Scooby Doo Christmas special with a kid under each arm, all four of them wearing those hideous matching pyjamas.

After all, he’s got the best gift ever already. That said, he still wants those matching flasks they saw at the store to take to the more boring little league games. Oh shit, he’s not supposed to mention that.

Merry Christmas from the Winchester family—the most dysfunctional clan on earth.

#wincest #sam x dean #sam/dean #fanfic #parent!wincest #domestic boys #family matters #otp: and they were soulmates #merry christmas #happy holidays #i hope you like your gift #im not a lazy oaf see #my fanfiction #read on ao3

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kansascityhappenings · 7 years

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Metro residents fed up with thieves brazenly targeting vehicles

KANSAS CITY, Mo. — “We work early in the morning, so we can’t be up all night watching our property,” Kevin Worley, a Westport resident, said.

There’s been a jump in cases of stolen cars and theft from cars in the metro.

Police say more than 2,000 cars have been stolen since the beginning of 2017.

98 of those vehicle thefts were reported in just the last two weeks alone in the metro.

Westport is just one of the areas thieves are targeting. The Plaza and River Market are also getting hit hard.

“The amount of riff-raff going through there is just incredible,” Worley added.

Worley has lived in Westport for about two years. He’s one of many victims of theft offenses in the metro area, but he’s caught many of them on this surveillance camera.

“They busted out my back window, stole all my tools; that was the first time. They broke into my neighbor’s car, stole some items out of it, then also the most recent one, they went through my finance’s car,” Worley said.

Worley said it’s happening so often, people are just leaving doors unlocked so they don’t have to pay for a busted window.

“It’s pointless. They will bust out your window if they want to get in your vehicle,” Worley explained.

There have been 353 more larceny and theft offenses now compared to this time last year — a six percent increase.

“It’s disconcerting, you know. It makes you not want to sleep at night because you’re constantly thinking you’re going to wake up in the morning and have another episode, that someone broke into something else. We don’t want them to get brave and start moving forward on bigger crimes because usually if it’s not handled at a lower level, they just get braver. That’s how people think,” Worley said.

Worley works in security and decided to put cameras in after losing thousands of dollars’ worth of property.

“After my van window got broken into, I do this professionally, so I just said, ‘why not?’ We just wanted to see what’s going in and out and the traffic and stuff,” Worley said.

And although the statistics show crime is up, he said just from what he sees on social media neighborhood groups, he thinks the number is probably higher.

“You see them every day. I don’t think that number is actually accurate because a lot of people won’t report them because they’re a misdemeanor and petty. By the time you take off work, file a police report, you end up losing more than just the change in your center console,” Worley said.

Worley said he would like to see patrols stepped up late at night. He asks if you recognize anyone in the video to call police or the TIPS hotline at (816) 474-TIPS.

To see more crime statistics in the metro, click here.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/09/25/metro-residents-fed-up-with-thieves-brazenly-targeting-vehicles/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/09/25/metro-residents-fed-up-with-thieves-brazenly-targeting-vehicles/

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