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elliewritessometimes · 3 years

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hello. have you seen this post by @notsomightymightytiger?? that’s my friend!!! and this is completely and utterly inspired by that and completely and utterly written for her. love you stabby friend <3

also known as: the tigers go to disneyland, kateva like to kiss, chess, reese and mattie have an understated bromance and cheerwives can actually be fluffy for once

tw: swearing, theme park kind of things??? aka rollercoasters and fireworks and all that. as always, let me know if i’ve missed anything

(sidenote idk if you can tell but i have never in my life been to disneyland don’t come for me if i wrote it all wrong i tried my best)

---

"We're going to Disneyland."

There was silence in the gym for a solid thirty seconds before all hell broke loose.

"WhAT???"

"Wait, really?!?"

"Oh my God, Riley, you're the best, oh my gOd!"

"Why the fuck did you think that taking us to fucking Disneyland was a good idea??" Kate looked less than pleased at the proposition, a stark contrast to the delighted faces of Reese and Mattie.

Riley smiled brightly. "Team bonding!!"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Right. Of course." Their voice rose in pitch, sarcasm delicately lacing their words. "For the best of the team-"

Chess cut them off, not so subtly stamping on her foot. "Katherine, please."

Farrah had been wobbling on her tiptoes, peering over Annleigh's shoulder. She gave a long-suffering groan. "Annleigh, Clark's not a Tiger, he can't come."

"But-"

"No. It's unfair."

Annleigh ignored her sister and switched her attention to Riley, making her best puppy eyes at the captain. Riley only widened her smile. It probably hurt her face a little bit. "You know what? Fine. Clark can come. It's gonna be fun, right?!"

Annleigh giggled at the answer, sticking her tongue out at a fuming Farrah. Kate was in a similar predicament, being held back by a smirking Chess with an arm around their shoulder. They pulled out their phone as well, already dialling a number, “If Annleigh’s boyfriend gets to come, then my girlfriend should be allowed as well. Otherwise that’s nepotism.”

“Fine.” Riley was steadily regretting her decision to hold a cheer trip. On her left, Cairo squeezed her hand, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Kate gagged in their direction. “You better not, Kate, or I’m banning your girlfriend from Disneyland.”

“Fuck you.”

“Wait,” Reese spoke up, “If Kate and Annleigh can have Eva and Clark, and Cairo and Riley have each other, can I bring my boyfriend?”

“No more significant others!” Riley clapped her hands, ignoring Reese’s pout. “If you can’t get Eva and Clark here in the next eight minutes, we will be leaving them behind! I paid so much money for these tickets and we will not be late.”

The team headed towards the door, being greeted by Eva and Clark already standing beside Cairo’s minivan. They split the rides evenly between the van and Chess’ car (Kate was more than pissed to find that their best friend had been in on the plan all along).

At one point, Mattie took Reese’s hand. “Hey, even if you can’t bring your boyfriend, you’ve got me, right? Ultimate bromance and all that?”

Reese grinned and squeezed the freshman’s hand. “Hell yeah.”

“I want that pin.”

“No, you don’t.” Reese hugged the Belle pin closer.

Chess held out a hand. “Yeah, but I do though.”

Reese shook her head.

“Look, I’ll give you my Tinkerbell diamond one.” They held out the rare pin in their other hand.

“No! Belle is my favourite!”

“She’s my favourite as well though!”

Cairo sighed. “We’ve been here literally ten minutes.”

Reese linked arms with Mattie, turning on her heel to walk off, “I’m going now and you’re not getting my Belle pin!!!!”

“HEY!” Chess chased after the two, trying so hard to keep up their grumpy demeanour and failing when a smile crept onto their face.

Turning to an anxious-looking Riley, Cairo sighed again. By now, she’d sighed more than she’d spoken today. “Chess does know that they could just... buy their own Belle pin if they really wanted, right???”

“It’s the fun of it, Cai.” Riley looked around, craning her neck. “Where on Earth have the other five members of our team gone?”

“Holy shit.” At this rate, Cairo must have been running out of oxygen from the intense sighing. “It has been. Ten. Minutes.”

Farrah wouldn't call herself a Disneyland regular, but she's been a few times before. She remembered a time before her mother had left, when she was still just a little kid, coming to the park for the first time. It had been the kind of magical that only a child can experience, filled with glitter and laughter and something that might have been called family. Her mother bought bubblegum flavoured cotton candy, handing the stick to a seven-year-old Farrah with a smile and a wink. They agreed that it was the first thing that you had to do when going to Disneyland - buy cotton candy. Every time since, Farrah bought the same bubblegum pink sugar from the same tacky stand and ate it with the same wonder as she did the very first time.

Now, Farrah had a new family. In, perhaps, more ways than one. Here, away from home, she's still with her family, maybe a slightly dysfunctional one made up of teenage cheerleaders (and Clark), but still, they are her family in one way or another.

Annleigh returned as Farrah was mulling over all this, a stick of worryingly neon pink cotton candy in her hand. "Figured you'd want to start the day off with your usual sugar rush."

Farrah took the treat with a smile, wondering if Annleigh is only so glad to buy such unhealthy food because at least it's not alcohol. "Thanks."

"Come on, ladies! We've got a whole park to explore!" Clark had apparently already visited a store, a pair of Mickey ears stretched over his head. Farrah rolled her eyes, but followed her sister and brother-in-law (nearly) further down the street because, after all, they are her family.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to fucking Disneyland before,” Eva looked mildly horrified, “Has Chess never taken you?”

“I didn’t really want to go.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Why the fuck-”

“Reasons.” Kate’s voice was sharp and Eva backed off, only kissing the top of their head. Kate squeezed her hand in response. “Anyway, come on, show me everything. Mountain rides challenge, right?”

“Ugh, Katie, the queues with be forever...”

“Lucky for you, I’ll be there to while away the time with you.” She winked, laughing when Eva blushed. “Let’s go.”

Of all the things to happen at Disneyland, Reese was not expecting to get sneak attacked by a literal cuddly pig. She yelped, reaching a hand to smack it away, nearing the point of ‘this might as well happen’, when a small head poked out from behind the toy. Mattie grinned, “Boo!”

“Jesus Christ, you scared the life out of me.”

The younger girl giggled brightly. “Look what I got!”

“...Is that the pig from Moana?”

“Obviously.” Mattie rolled her eyes. “You should know by now that Moana is the best Disney movie of all time.”

Reese rummaged in her backpack for a second before pulling out yet another pin. “Look! Moana pin. Girl, I would give it to you, but me and Chess are tryna see who can get the most pins by the end of the day. Speaking of, was Chess in the store?”

“Yeah, actually.” She hesitated. “Dude, I hate to tell you this, but they had a Belle pin.”

“Shit.”

Perhaps queuing had been a mistake. It had probably been hours. Kate would have known more accurately if they’d worn a watch like Chess always told them to. She was stubborn though, and hadn’t. “Aves...”

“Yeah?”

“How long have we been waiting?”

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“Oh.” They craned their neck to see over the heads in front of them, realising that they were only a few people from the front. “Oh.”

Eva laughed and took her partner’s hand again, “Told you the queues were long.”

However, in only a matter of minutes, they were seated in an uncomfortable car, the seatbelts just a little too tight to be comfortable and a little too loose to feel actually safe. To say Kate was uncomfortable would be an understatement. She was also maybe a tiny bit scared.

Eva squinted at them. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I’m fine.”

And so the ride began.

Around halfway through, they began the steady climb to the highest peak. Kate turned to Eva, yelling over the shouts of other passengers. “Hey, babe? Remember when I said I didn’t come here with Chess because of reasons? Now might be a good time to tell you that those reasons are that I’m scared of heights.”

“You fucking idiot.” Eva turned carefully to them, holding their hands tighter, worry and amusement shining in her eyes. The car reached the peak of the ride. “Look at me and don’t fucking think about looking down. It’s okay.” She cupped her cheek. They fell suddenly and Kate's heart jumped into her throat. Eva laughed a little at their surprise. “You know what they say, babe, you gotta confront your fears straight on.”

“I can’t do anything straightly.”

And that was how they found themselves kissing on a rollercoaster, hair slightly in their faces, just as the camera shutter went off.

The team somehow reconvened for lunch, stopping on a bench somewhere as Clark unpacked a multitude of sandwiches and juice boxes. Of course, only Clark, Annleigh and Riley ended up eating the home-brought food, everyone else opting to buy their own trashy, mostly-sugar lunch.

“How the fuck did you know to bring all this if we only organised the trip this morning?” Kate sounded suspicious, eyeing Clark like he was the imposter.

Clark looked mildly sheepish. “Oh... We all knew already.”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah, sorry Kitkat.” Chess stifled a snort of laughter. “We organised this weeks ago. We had a group chat and everything.”

Kate spluttered for a second. “Alright, traitors, who else was left out of this?”

Mattie, Farrah and Reese all raised a hand.

“This makes no sense. Cairo, I trust you to tell the truth, why the fuck didn’t you tell us?!”

Cairo smirked. “We didn’t tell Mattie and Farrah because they’re children-”

“Rude!” Mattie smacked Cairo on the arm. “I am possibly more responsible than half of the rest of you.”

Riley cut in. “Don’t be silly, Cai. We didn’t tell Reese, Mattie or Farrah because they like Disney the most and we wanted it to be a surprise treat for them.”

The rest of the group made noises of appreciation or fondness. Kate, however, was less than pleased, “What about me?!”

“Oh, we just wanted to see your face when we announced it.” Cairo didn't hold back.

“Fuck you all.” But they were holding back a smile, already moving on to the next thing. “Hey, Farrah, you okay? Why aren’t you eating?”

The sophomore groaned. “I feel sick.”

Annleigh hugged her sister to her side, rubbing her back gently. ‘It’s because you ate all that cotton candy earlier.”

“It was so good, though.” Farrah frowned, regretting her past-self and her need for sugar.

Clark reached into his backpack, pulling out a pair of Minnie ears, before plonking them awkwardly on Farrah’s head. He grinned. “That’ll make you feel better!”

“Dude, I don’t know, but thanks for the effort.” She fought a smile, reaching up to arrange the ears around her plaits.

Riley had been anxious about the trip ever since it had been first suggested. She’d pored over the plans for hours on end, triple checking each detail with Cairo and Chess. Now that they were here, it was all going well enough. Sure, maybe they had gotten lost a couple of times, and sure, maybe they hadn’t stayed as much of a team as she’d planned, but yeah, it was going fine. Everyone else was having fun.

“Hey, Rye, you doing okay?”

She nodded with a smile, clutching Cairo’s hand. “Yup! All good!”

Cairo did not look convinced. “Look, you've been stressing about everyone else all day, how about we leave them be and go visit some princesses, huh?”

“Cai... Cai, that would be honestly amazing.�� Hesitating, she watched the retreating backs of the rest of the team. “You’re sure they’ll be okay?”

“They’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, they’ve got Clark and Chess and Eva in case anything goes wrong.” The taller girl didn’t hesitate from naming who she perceived as the ‘responsible ones’.

“Okay.” Riley opened her mouth to suggest a destination, when they were approached by the one and only Peter Pan.

“Hey!”

“OhmygodCai.” She clung to her girlfriend’s arm. “It’s Peter Pan.”

Cairo snorted, nudging Riley to spark her reply. She watched as the two had what was possibly the purest and most wholesome conversation she had ever heard, sneakily taking photos that she would treasure because of Riley’s true delight. Riley skipped towards her after a couple of minutes, grinning properly from ear to ear. “That was so cool!”

“Amazing, Rye. Who shall we visit next?”

“Oh my God, we have to see Tangled!”

“....Rapunzel.”

Riley paused from where she was dragging Cairo into another set of rooms. “What?”

Cairo laughed, “She’s not called Tangled, babe, her name’s Rapunzel.”

“Oh. Yeah, right, of course, forgot.”

The other girl only laughed harder. “You're so stupid, Jesus Christ, I love you.”

Riley blushed. “Love you too.”

“So you did the mountain rides challenge.”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“And somehow, just magically, you two found yourselves making out in every single ride photo.” Chess crossed their arms, grinning at the couple in front of them.

“I- It was noT making out!!” Kate spluttered a reply, hiding her face in Eva’s shoulder. Chess only laughed harder.

Eva hummed as if she was making a difficult decision. “I don’t know, babe, you got pretty into it at one point.”

The senior cackled, high-fiving Eva over Kate's head. Kate continued to hide in their girlfriend's shoulder, only lifting a middle finger in Chess’ direction as a reply. Chess took the offending finger in their hand, pulling Kate up so she could walk between the other two. “Damn, Kitkat.”

“I’m not ever replying to that name again. I have been too attacked to allow it.”

Eva kissed the top of their head, “You came here to have a good time and you’re just feeling so attacked right now.”

“Exactly!” Kate nudged their head up into Eva’s chin, “This is why I’m dating you, meme girl.”

“Ew, gross.” Chess tugged Kate, who tugged Eva, who finally got them walking again. “Come on, lovebirds, it’s firework time.”

By the time the fireworks began, they’d been at the park for hours. Farrah still had her Minnie ears on, ones which Clark occasionally tried to steal due to his own ears being lost on one ride or another. Annleigh would only bat his hand away, laughing when he pressed kisses to her palm.

Kate kissed Eva again when the first firework exploded above them, being caught by yet another camera, this time in the hands of Riley. The photo found its way onto the Tigers group chat by morning, greeted by a pouting Kate begging them to take it down against the protests of the rest of the team (“But you’re just so cute!”). Somehow, she didn’t complain when it even later worked its way onto Eva's Instagram feed.

Chess and Reese jumped at the first fireworks, too absorbed in counting pins to pay attention to the rest of the world. Mattie wormed her way between them, sneakily stealing both Reese’s Moana pin and Chess’ newly-bought Belle pin. They were too distracted by the light show to notice and Mattie celebrated her little victory by also stealing some of the cotton candy that Farrah had bought herself again, despite her earlier regrets. She supposed some people never learnt.

Cairo stood quietly at the back of the group, showing a still-bouncing Riley the pictures taken with the various characters they’d encountered. Riley kissed her for the final firework, a silent ‘thank you’ for today.

With the lights of Disneyland glimmering maybe slightly tackily behind the group, Riley took one last picture. It was them, the team, the Tigers, silhouetted in the lights but, if you zoomed in and maybe turned the brightness up a bit, you could still see them smiling. That made its way onto the group chat as well and maybe it still hangs in more than one of their rooms. It was certainly a day that qualified for the scrapbooks.

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lesbian-dp · 4 years

Text

Take A Slice

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

College AU

Words: 2,669

Warnings: Talk of sleeping around, talk of drugs, smoking, bragging about sexual expertise, reader has piercings and tattoos, packing, mentions of sexual harassment, teacher + student sex, sex on desk, strap on sex (duh), fucking for a better grade... I’m awful.

Request: Nah.

Summary: I’m gonna fuck my way through college.

A/N: ^^ That line up there. That’s the whole reason I wrote this thing lol. Side note! I’ve never been to college, so idk how they work. So, if there’s any mistakes in there about it, you know why lol. Also: Me, having a part two already planned out for this?? More likely thank you think! Lmao.

Ko-Fi

18+ ONLY.

***

I don't ever wanna pick a slice

One is pretty but the other lies

Your reputation has exceeded itself.

Not that you were upset by that.

I mean who would be? When women were throwing themselves at you, almost everywhere you went. Wanting to get a taste of what all the other girls had been saying about you. 'To see if it's true', they said, 'I just want to make sure that they aren't overplaying your abilities' some of the more "indifferent" ones would chirp up. And you were more than happy to show them the truth.

That everything they heard was right.

You weren't one for relationships, anyway.

Right now, in this part of your life, all you wanted to do was have fun.

Lots of fun.

Chewing on a fat smoke

No filter but you're puffing

Sucking on a slim Vogue

Dark fingernail polish

So... as it would turn out, you've missed every. Single. Class. For one of your courses. Because you didn't know you were signed up for it.

Consequently, now you had to start going. Eight months late.

There was no way you were gonna catch up to this shit.

What the fuck, even is 'Cognitive Psychology'? And why did you have to take it?!

Psychology wasn't even your major!

So, you thought, 'what would it matter if you were late? You had already missed so much, what's a little more gonna matter?'

You scratched at your black nail polish, as you walked. It had started peeling minutes after you let your high as hell roommate, Wade, put it on you a few days prior.

Reaching up, you pulled the burning cigarette from your mouth. Breathing out a puff of grey smoke.

Nasty habit, you know.

You were well into your addiction now. Starting at thirteen when your older brother let you have a puff of his, as you sat on your doorstep listen to your parents fighting. Again.

I'm the treasure, baby, I'm the prize

Cut me rails of that fresh cherry pie

College might have turned you a bit smug.

People- Girls regularly called you arrogant. That was what made it more fun for you. You could tell that most thought it when they saw you, but you never cared.

However, when a woman you were persuing for the evening blatantly told you that, it made you want to prove to her how right you were to be smug about your expertise.

Like we have already established before.

Your reputation exceeds itself.

And after only being there for the better part of a year.

This much you can tell from the looks you get as you walk up the stairs and into the building where your class was currently taking place.

The same looks covering most of the students' faces when you push open the door to your class. The one you were twenty-five minutes late for.

Shitty old pistola

Shot a bullet through my wallet

Gonna go to Pensacola

Gonna fuck my way through college

"Hello..." the professor started, her sentence trailing off, waiting for you to fill it in with your name.

God, she's hot.

You blinked yourself back into reality, a second later.

"Y/N Y/L/N," you told her. Patting your chest.

"Well then, Miss Y/L/N. Why do I have the honour of you interrupting my class?"

"Oh. This is my class. I didn't know I had it. So, here I am," you stumbled out.

Your new professor hummed at your explanation.

"Well then." She gestured the seats and consequently, all of the students sat in them. "Take a seat. And try to learn something."

Nodding your head once, you threw her a bashful tight-lipped smile.

"Yes, Professor-" You glanced at her name written on the board behind you. "-Romanoff."

You've gone with the thick rims

Big look with the lip ring and things

You took one of the only seats left, right in between a brunette wearing rings on almost every finger, and a boy who was still wearing his high school sweatshirt, even in the summer.

Folding your arms, you slouched back in your seat, letting out an exasperated breath, settling yourself down to listen to the rest of the lesson.

You really should be writing this stuff down. But you had resonated with yourself that you were going to fail this class anyway, so what was the point really? You only came to this thing, so that your attendance for it wouldn't be as shit as it was, in the first place.

You tried to focus on what the teacher was saying, you really did... well. A little.

But you were way too focused on how fucking hot she was.

Her glasses were thick and geeky, yet you could tell that she hardly wore them to class by the contact container on her desk.

Thanks to the heat, Professor Natasha Romanoff wore a tight t-shirt and high-waisted shorts. Her red hair up in a ponytail-bun thing. Skin blank unlike yours, with your piercings and tattoos.

Wake me when the bell rings

I'm gonna sleep 'cause you live in my day dreams

No matter how hot she was, the subject at hand did nothing but bore you senseless. So much so, that you quickly fell asleep in your seat because of it.

Your dreams were filled with your red-headed professor. And there was nothing innocent about them.

You dreamt of what her lips felt like against yours. How they would taste. The softness to her skin, under your hands.

How fucking stunning she would look naked. Naked and sweating under you. The sound of her whimpers and pleas for you to fuck her how she needs you too, right there on her desk in the classroom.

How she would sound as she came.

Her taste.

Then it was all ripped away from you.

You've gone with the thick rims

Big look with the lip ring and things

Wake me when the bell rings

I'm gonna sleep 'cause you live in my day dreams

With a sharp inhale through your nose, you awoke to the screeching ringing of the bell, signalling that class was over.

You tried your best to rid the sleep from your eyes, as the rest of the students gathered their things, and made their way to the exit. With Natasha calling her goodbyes and reminding them what she needed for their next lesson.

You should have expected her to add, "Miss Y/L/N?" Her eyes trained on you, as you snapped your attention to her. "A word, please?" she demanded rather than asked, her voice hard as stone.

So, wordlessly, you made your way down with the other students, waiting in front of her as they all filed through the doors.

Sitting pretty in the prime of life

I'm so tasty and the price is right

It was a whole three minutes since the last person left the room, it willed with silence, while Natasha stared blankly into your eyes, before she spoke.

"First, you miss a whole eight months of class, then you arrive late for your first lesson, you come unprepared, and then- Then, you have the sheer audacity to fall asleep during it?!" she chewed you out.

"In my defence Professor, I didn't know I was signed up for this class."

"Oh, yeah?! Then what about the other things?!" she gestured to an invisible pile to the side of her.

"Well, I've missed so much anyway, and I already know I'm going to fail. So, why is there really any point in my trying so hard, anyway?" you shrugged out, to which she sighed at you.

"If you tried hard enough," she began, swallowing her anger, hoping she could help you, "I'm sure you could be caught up by the time exams roll around, and you should be able to get yourself a passing grade."

You nodded at her words. Regarding that she was right, you should care more about your grade... but. There could be a way for you to pass with flying colours.

No matter how wrong it was.

Stewing in the black dope

I'm filthy and I love it

"Are you married, Professor?" She blinked at the randomness of your question.

"No, I am not, and never have been married. Why?" she asked, not liking where this was going.

"Dating anyone?"

"No- Listen, if this is your way of trying to ask me out, you should know that it's not going-"

"I'm not trying to ask you out," you informed her.

"Oh."

"You just seem to need something to take the edge off."

"If you're talking about drugs, you would be expell-"

"It's not drugs," you interrupted her again, a slight smirk tugging at the edge of your lips, "But... when it's good enough, it can be exactly like it."

"Are you..." Natasha trailed off, not believing what you were insinuating, "Are you trying to sleep with me?"

You let out a small chuckle, bowing your head as you did.

"To be blatantly honest, yes, I am."

"That's never gonna happen." She shook her head. "I'd sooner rather buy drugs off of you than do that."

Her words made a toothy smile break out across your face, one that you knew could make her feel like prey.

"Trust me, once you've had a taste of me, you won't be able to stop. I'm like a drug."

"Then I'll just have to not taste you, won't I?" she snapped.

"I doubt you'll be able to resist." Your eyes down her body and back up again, with a bite of your lip, you started to make your own way from the classroom. "I'm filthy and I love it. And I'm sure you would, too. Bye, Professor Romanoff."

Studebaker all gold

Got a shotgun in my pocket

The next time you went to Natasha Romanoff's class, you packed her a special gift. Along with your laptop and textbook. Confident in the fact that you were gonna use them all today.

You sat through her whole lesson. The whole fucking lesson, where you didn't know what the hell was going on, or what she was talking about. Never once falling asleep.

It felt like forever till the bell rang.

Just like last time, you waited behind. Watching as Natasha paid you no mind, wiping off everything from her board.

Once everyone had left, it was safe for you to speak.

"You know, I've been thinking," you start, making Natasha sigh vocally and turn around to face you.

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Considering I've missed so much of this class, maybe I should have some sort of a tutor. And who better than the teacher?"

"You want private lessons?"

"I feel like they would help me greatly, yes."

"Don't you think I have better things to do than to give private lessons to someone who didn't even care enough to show up to class, for the first eight months?"

"Like I said before, I didn't know I was even signed up for this class."

"And that's not my fault, Miss Y/L/N-" This was going wat too slow for you. So, you grabbed the back of her hand, pulling it to rest on your crotch, letting her feel what's under your pants. Her sentence cutting off, and her voice going breathless, "What the hell is that?"

"Well I call it my shotgun," you joked.

"You know this is sexual harassment?"

Not gonna lie, that scared you a little.

You really hoped you hadn't read this whole situation wrong.

Your face scrunched up, cocking to the side a tad before you said, "It would be if you didn't want it."

"What makes you think I want this?"

"I can practically smell it on you," you husked. Making her gasp lightly. Smirking you continued, "And the fact that my hand's not even on yours any more and you're rubbing the strap, like it's real."

She looked down only to see you were right, ripping her hand away the next second, with another gasp.

"I don't want this," she said more to herself than you.

"Of course not, that's why you're horny right now."

Natasha turned her head to face you, with fire in her eyes as she glared you down. You were only able to grin back at her.

"Just tell me you want me."

She breathed out a hot, frustrated breath.

"I want you." Then her lips were on yours.

You've gone with the thick rims

Big look with the lip ring and things

You knew from the first time you spoke to her, that this would be an inevitability.

You just never expected it to be this good.

"Fuck!" Natasha wept out below you. Her fingers digging into your shoulders, yours holding her ribs, as you pounded her into her office desk.

'It's more private', Natasha had said, pulling you into the adjacent room, 'There's less chance of us being caught in there'.

"This is wrong."

"It's so wrong," you agreed, not slowing your bruising pace, "But that's why it feels so fucking good."

Your mouth covered the red-heads again, loving the way her kiss-swollen lips felt against yours.

You may have said you were like a drug, but Godamn, if she wasn't like one, too.

"Yeah?" you encouraged her. You wanted to hear her admit it.

"Yeah," she agreed in a whine, nodding her head against yours.

The salty taste of her sweaty skin filled your mouth with her pert nipple. Natasha cried out, at the extra stimulation.

That, the way you were pounding into her, and your thumb rubbing quickly against her hard clit, was almost too much for the panting red-head.

"God!" she exclaimed, "I love the way your lip ring feels against my nipple."

And she wasn't lying. The sudden hardness rubbing against her, as you rolled her pink nipple between your lips, did wonders for her pleasure. And she could admit that. But what she would never let you know, was how much she adored the tattoos that decorated your body. It brought her back to when she was in college just like you. And how she was always too busy focusing on her studies to have semi-regular sex. It was almost like she was making up for that now with you.

No matter how embarrassing that thought was.

No matter how wrong it was.

She used to wonder if she had a thing for tattoos.

Now she was sure she did.

"Really?" you asked cockily, pulling away to look at her properly. "Is that the only thing you love feeling? You don't like feeling how this cock pounds into you? Maybe I should stop and pull it out-?"

"Don't you dare!" she stopped you from finishing your sentence, a moan spilling from her right after.

"Shh, shh, shh. You have to be quiet. We can't let anyone hear us."

"I know. I know," Natasha panted, nodding her head.

Your Psyche Professor removed her hands from where they had moved to hold onto your forearms, softly trailing her fingers up her body around the sides of her breasts, all the way up to clasp onto the opposite side of her desk. Watching the whole, time with a smirk, as your eyes intently followed her movements. Them snapping back down to her emerald-green eyes for a moment, before they trained on her bouncing tits.

That's when Natasha's breathing picked up. Along with her moans.

Hastily, your mouth covered hers. Swallowing most of her sounds down.

She came shakingly hard with a deep moan, as you bit her lip.

Hours later you were sat on the leather couch in Natasha's office, strap back in your pants, considering you never removed most of your clothes, your pants included, watching while Natasha got dressed.

"This time again next Thursday? After class?" she asked, almost shyly.

You smiled at her.

You were so gonna get an 'A'.

But at what cost?

Wake me when the bell rings

I'm gonna sleep 'cause you live in my day dreams

***

Perminant Tag List:

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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gameimagines · 5 years

Note

Hello, could I ask for headcanons of what Raihan, Leon, and Milo would do if their s/o was being threatened by a Trainer who was salty that they lost to s/o?

Requested by: this lovely anon

Fandom: Pokémon SWSH

Notes: oH THIS IS GOOD. Love me some protective boys. Also I wrote this like a bullet point scenario?? Idk it’s a little weird.

Galar Boys protecting their s/o from a sore loser

Raihan

You were out with Raihan when an overly enthusiastic fan insisted on challenging you. You tried to politely turn down his request, telling the trainer that you were on a date and that it wouldn’t be fair to Raihan for you to accept a challenge right now.

Unfortunately, Raihan off handedly mentioned that he wouldn’t mind seeing you take this guy on. You appreciated the support but dangit, Raihan, you didn’t want to battle right now.

Raihan’s comment made the trainer even more persistent and so you begrudgingly agreed.

Raihan cheered you on the entire time. If only the trainer was as good natured as your boyfriend. The challenger talked trash before and during the match, boasting regardless of how the battle was going. Raihan didn’t seem too phased, you’d put this cocky punk in his place.

Despite your opponents bragging, the match didn’t last long. In fact, you only had to use one Pokémon. Your trusty Appletun sweeped the opposing team.

Before you even finished calling back your dragon type, the trainer was marching towards you.

“Tch,” he sneered, “if you think I’m giving you money for your lucky, underhanded win, you’re dumber than your Appletun.”

“Excuse me?” You and Raihan spoke in unison.

“Yeah, I bet you knew I used mostly water types. Bloody unfair to choose type advantage instead of using a real strategy.” Once he got within arms distance, the challenger grabbed your collar with aggressive force.

You weren’t sure when Raihan called out his Duraludon but boy were you thankful to see Raihan pry the unwanted hands off while backed up with the intimidating steel type.

“I don’t know why the beat down Y/N gave you wasn’t enough for you, so let me give it a try.” Raihan leered down at the defeated trainer. His Duraludon (which was surprisingly in tune with the situation) let out a metallic growl for emphasis.

Upon seeing Raihan’s anger, the challenger began to back down. “B-Back off. My Pokémon have all fainted, just let me go.”

“Yeah, that’s for the best. I don’t want to see you anymore,” Raihan sneered. After you watched the man scurry away, you turned back to Raihan who was giving you a sympathetic look. “You’re just too good, people can’t handle it.” He grabbed your hand with a delicacy that was absent during the previous encounter.

“Thanks, Rai.”

Milo

Milo was worried when you were almost twenty minutes late to dinner. The meetup spot wasn’t far from your place, what could be keeping you?

When you don’t answer his call, Milo begins to walk to your home, hoping your abscence was caused by something mundane.

He began to smile when heard your voice in the distance, but once he came closer it fell from his face.

A loud, visibly angry woman was screeching profanities at you. You seemed mostly composed, but Milo could see your hands clenching and unclenching - the woman’s aggressive behavior was making you nervous. You hadn’t even noticed his presence.

“I already said, you don’t have to give me money for the win. I’m sorry I’ve upset you but you did challenge me,” your words were steady but your voice was soft. “I told you I only had my starting Pokémon with me and I warned you that my Cinderace was strong.”

“You’re not forgiven! Embarrassing me like that with your brute of a Pokémon is vile! You should be ashamed of yourself! You - you bloody mistake of a person!” She howled.

Milo couldn’t stand to hear any more of it. You clearly warned the challenger and the woman was wildly overreacting. No one should say such awful things after a battle, especially to someone as sweet as you. “Ma’am, that’s quite enough.” Milo moved himself in front of you. “You should be ashamed of yourself for such poor behavior. That’s no way to treat a fellow trainer.”

The woman recognized the gym leader, an embarrassed blush covered her scrunched up face. “Hmph!” She exclaimed indignantly. “You don’t know the situation! Stay out of it!”

It was odd to see Milo, who’s normally so sweet, so fierce. He acted as a protective barrier, both physically and verbally. “I’m not leaving. Now you apologize or I’m going to have to call the trainer’s associate and report you.”

The woman paled. After a minute of stunned silence she let out the most disingenuous apology you had ever heard and walked away.

Once she was out of sight, Milo turned to you with clear concern written all over his freckled face. “Are you okay, sweetheart? She didn’t hurt you, did she? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner!”

He bombarded you with questions, pulling you close and holding you tight to his chest.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you!”

Leon

As the undefeated Champion, Leon had grown accustomed to sore losers. People were constantly convinced that Leon had somehow cheated, that there was no way he was honestly that strong. He had complained, and sometimes laughed, at the ridiculous accusations and behavior that other trainers had upon losing.

And on more than one occasion, you expressed sympathetic anger at your boyfriend’s challengers. But he assured you that it was just a part of the gig. That no trainer had ever taken it too far with him.

But with you? It was a different story.

After a particularly quick exhibition match, you had blown a contestant’s team out of the water. Leon wasn’t surprised, he knew you would be victorious.

He also wasn’t surprised when the opposing trainer refused to shake your hand. The audience booed and Leon was disappointed in the other trainer, but sometimes that’s how it went.

Leon moves onto the field to announce the next matchup when things took an unexpected turn. Your opponent challenged you to a second match.

“No,” you refused, “I won fair and square. I’m going to prepare for the next match.”

That’s when things began to escalate. The trainer pushed an accusational finger in your face, “You think you’re too good for my team, huh? What a load of bollocks! I’ll take you on with my fists then, you-” the audience screamed. Leon didn’t hear what profanity the contestant called you, but it didn’t matter.

“You think threatening Y/N is going to make you seem tougher? You’re a fool if you think I’m going to let this slide.” Leon put his arm out and forcibly lowered the trainer’s hand out of your face. “You’re done here.” Leon’s yellow eyes narrowed.

Leon was pretty intimidating. After a few moments of silence, the angry contestant sulked off the field and right out of the stadium.

Leon turned to you and placed an arm on your shoulder. His thumb ran circles over your uniform. “You good?” He whispered, quiet enough so the microphones couldn’t catch it.

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Leon smiled at you before lacing his hand through yours and raising your arms up into the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He boomed, voice filled with pride, “your victor!”

The audience went wild.

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jidai · 4 years

Text

jidai’s budget mutuals/friends appreciation

Hi, all! I’m quite late with this but I decided to put a small friends and mutual appreciations post in hopes of brightening up the end of this year a little bit. ❤️ If you were tagged, please make sure to check below for a small little message from me. However, I want to make it very clear that I truly appreciate all of my mutuals. You guys brighten up my dash and always reblog or create so many funny and creative posts. I just wanted to give a few special shout outs to those that have taken out the time to reach out and interacted with me past my ask box or we just see each other often.

The messages are ordered by your URL, so you might have to scroll for awhile before you see your messages. I’m so sorry lmao.

Happy New Years, everyone!

@25th, Nonnie, the Young Genius. bro, remind me how old you are 🧍‍♀️ Like my brain CANNOT fathom the thought that you’re so skilled at SO many things and you’re not even in your twenties??? PLEASE SPARE THE TALENT. i will even accept crumbs. But I’m writing to tell you that you are such a wonderful presence on my dash. I always look forward to your gfx. They’re so SO good and you’re improving from one post to another. Like WOW. Now, you’re even starting an art blog, too? You’re so dedicated to the arts. I respect that a lot. Your hard work and commitment will bring you very far in life, whatever you decide to do.

I love interacting with you. You’re such a big sweetheart and full of positivity and energy. I look forward to seeing more of your art and gfx ❤️

@biscuitwalk, Dann, the AK Wiz. Dann, I know you’re not as active on here so idk when or if you will ever read this but I want to say that I miss you and your creations so, so much. I will say it a hundred times over and OVER but you inspire me so goddamn much. You have no fucking idea. Your works are absolutely gorgeous and unique. I can look at it once and I can instantly recognize your style (and your cute lil’ pufferfish <3). The way you utilize colors and implement various techniques, shapes, textures into your work. Goddamn, you’re so good. I always look to your work if I ever need inspiration and they help me brainstorm. God, I wish I could put it into words how much I adore your works.

We didn’t really talk for long but you seemed like such a kind and fun person to be around. I wish you the best in your future endeavors, wherever you are. Stay safe <3

@elriccs, Mirai, the Short King. 🧍‍♀️ ok look I know, I know I’m TERRIBLE at replying to you and I’m so fucking sorry. I absolutely love to talk to you but my dumbass cannot seem to reply in a timely manner LASELKSAL. That’s on me and I gotta do better. Anyways!!! Thank you SO fucking much for always leaving such kind messages on my work. I swear to god you’re one of my biggest hype man and I ALWAYS look forward to reading your tags. They’re so funny and it makes me all tingly and happy inside. Bro, like, you just radiate big fun vibes, bro. I really hope that I can get to know you better so I can just insult you until it’s too late to walk away </3

And of course, let me also remind you that I love your works so much. They way that you utilize your textures and those muted colors... OOMPH *chefs kiss* I will always love--

@lockhvrts, Em the Soulsborne GOD. hi em 🥺 it’s been awhile since I’ve had a proper conversation with you and I hope you’re doing okay! I miss you and our conversations where we do nothing but geek out and complain about the game industry lmao. if you manage to read this, I just wanted to let you know I miss your presence here. It’s been kinda dull not seeing your beautiful soulsborne gifs and your game rants. Let’s catch up soon. <3 stay safe and well!

@nathanprescutt, Benn, the Man. BENNNNNNNN. I love you a lot bro. I know we haven’t had long conversations for some time and I hope I can change that! You were my first friend on this blog and I will always appreciate it. I remember us just geeking out over your works and how I would always send you a gfx request like once a week LMAO. The one thing that I have always appreciated about you was the fact that you’re very opinionated (if not, very vocal on your stance on things) and you hold your ground. There were a few time where you encouraged me to speak on topics that I think I shouldn’t and that stuck with me for quite awhile. I’m still a nervous rambling mess when it comes to debates but just know that the one time you supported me to voice my opinion--I hold it very dear to my heart.

While I don’t spend much time together, I will always remember our animal crossing session. It was so much fun just trashing and chilling on your island. Especially the bar :( that bar was fucking AMAZING. Maybe once FFXVI comes out, we can geek out hehe

Also, thank you so much for sending in photos of all your doggos, omg. I miss seeing them so much I hope they’re doing well. Stay hot, my German bro lol. Ich bin sehr dankbar, so eine tolle Freundin zu haben. ❤️❤️❤️

@noxdivina, Lin the Big Dick Daddy Kind. The church is open for business bitch and I’m here to preach the GOSPEL.

Okay, jokes aside, I’m really happy that we became mutuals. You’ve always give off this like, mysterious cosmic vibe (????? huh). And your selfies just further proves that you are wtf. But you’re always so kind to those that you interact with. You’re an absolutely sweetheart and like I just want to give you a giant hug every time we interact. You’re such a soft human being. It’s so nice being around you. It’s like being tossed in the oven and baked at 250 degrees F for 25 minutes. And to boot you’re really talented, hello? God really said let there be a perfect human being and yeeted you into the universe. Thank you for always leaving such kind messages and words in my DM/askbox/works. I cherish them so much. I hope I can get to know you better in the future bc you’re rad, bro <3

anyways, updated drawing of u and maya:

i always assume you’re in a black fur parka 24/7 and maya is coatless neck down. also deck me with those jacked arms of yours thanks 🧍‍♀️

(edit: fuck i forgot to draw a PARTY HAT ON MAYA IM SORRY)

@rokuseis, Sei, the Dumber.

i have nothing to say to you go away you banana hater ASELKSAEKL

BITCH, you doo bee getting on my nerve 24/7/365 🧍‍♀️ you were an unexpected but a very welcomed addition to my life. I can’t believe we really went 1 fuckin’ year without speaking to each other and then suddenly our friendship blew up because over a stupid BANANA. Now you gotta deal with me and my stupid, random, crude ass messages daily. I cannot. Clown to clown communication. But thank you so much bitch for being there for me and telling all of these funny ass stories and life experiences.

I know I don’t say it a lot because when we talk it’s literally just dogs barking at each other but I want to make it clear now: I love your humor and vibe so much. You never fail to make me laugh anytime I talk to you and I appreciate it so much. I can’t tell you how many times I felt better after talking to you. Even though sometimes your fucking jab hits hard and I end up actually inSULTED BY IT. But thank you for becoming my friend and I look forward to all of our stupid moments together. Looking forward to shitting in your sink when I finally fly to your home <3

@wolfamongthem, Anna, the Grinch. Please don’t hurt me for that title. I'm just saying if someone needs a live casting, it’ll be u. Anyways, did you know that I was so fucking intimidated by you for a long ass time, even before we became mutuals aseljas LMAO. I always see your gifs around on explore and they’re so gorgeous and then I look at your text posts and it’s u roasting people like there’s no tomorrow- 🧍‍♀️ bitch I was SCARED OF U KSKS. Now that I’ve talked to you a few times, you’re really funny like where do you find those reaction memes????? Like bro you and your shitposts is my morning cup of coffee.

Anyways, in 2021 I expect a full-fledge review of all AAA games from you-- no more shit talking in the tags let it all out BITCH. Thank you for being such a great mutual! I look forward to see what weird shit you will send me the next time we talk lmao

@zenien, Selm, the I’m-gay-for-Lady-Maria-or-anything-that-moves-in-BB-Bitch™. ok bitch if I’m being honest I wrote yours last so my brain is FRIED. so everything i say from here is raw from the HEARt cause that’s all I got left. But anyhow, we savin’ the best for last! honestly, i didn’t expect you to barge into my life like that. i really didn’t. i was just gonna keep admiring with my 7 feet (2.1336 meters) pole. I’m glad you made the first move because look where we are wtf 🧍‍♀️ friends??? I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that in 2014 when I first followed you lmao.

You’re such a kind soul. I know you may disagree but I’m determined to convince you. I can’t tell you how much I want to thank you for taking the time to talk to me during my rough bits. It’s like sitting on a wooden bench in a park during sunset and you sit next to me, just enjoying the vast sky. You radiate such peaceful energy. It’s very calming. Or you know, 2 seconds later i’m suddenly suplexed by your 40 tons of insults like what--

Thank you for everything, so far. Truly. It’s been so fun listening to you talk about your Bloodborne journey and see your reactions live. It’s been so fun to see you post your graphics and it continues to blow me away. It’s been so fun hearing about your life and the stories of your adulthood. Every words that we have exchanged, I hold dearly to my heart--more than you ever know. Love u bitch.

#for mutuals #mutuals don't ask about your titles i was being quirky LMAO #this took so long so i hope it works properly sksks #it hasn't been proofread so enjoy the mess

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sofiaisms · 4 years

Text

only five minutes ‘til midnight , and we just spotted SOFIA ROMERO , known for their OVERFLOWING GLASSES OF BUBBLY , SUN-KISSED SKIN GLISTENING WITH SPECS OF GLITTER , & PRETTY LIPS SPEWING UGLY WORDS IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT at club nouveau , ringing in the new year ! the TWENTY-TWO year old is usually known for their job as a REALITY TV STAR , but tonight , they’re just another reveler in the crowd . when they wrote down their new year’s resolution , they wished for A NUMBER ONE PODCAST RATING & A HEALED HEART FREE OF ANY PENT UP ANGER OR RESENTMENT . funny enough , they had also mentioned how they hoped to forget about the time that they REDACTED . for what it’s worth , i truly hope they can put the old year past them . [ cindy kimberly , cis woman , ‘our favorite love island ship has sank : break-up rumors confirmed by sofia romero during latest podcast episode’ ]

* / ✩ / .. 𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙖 , 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘩 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 . . .

hello friends ! sorry for the late intro , i was napping 😌 but i’m very happy to be here & i look forward to writing with each & every one of you <3 i’m lia ( she / her ), twenty years old , & vibing in the cst . this is my brand new girlie , sofia . under the cut is a ( hopefully ) brief summary + some listed wanted connections . but if you wanna dive deeper , i’ll leave you with her full bio & stats page in the google doc , her pinterest borad , & a lil wanted connections sideblog i threw together for inspo . feel free to hmu for plots any time via im’s or discord dm’s ! <3

��𝗢𝗢𝗚𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗖 + 𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 + 𝗪𝗖 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗢

*+.. 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗦 ↴

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: sofia anisa romero 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒): sof 𝐃𝐎𝐁: 15 june 1998 𝐀𝐆𝐄: twenty-two 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑: cis woman 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: she / her 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: bisexual biromantic 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂: gemini sun, pisces moon, capricorn asc 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄: staten island, ny 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍: staten island, ny 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄: new york city, ny 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: reality star / influencer with a podcast akin to “call her daddy” called hot stuff 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋: graduated high school, went to parson’s school of design for a BFA in fine arts but never completed her degree

*+.. 𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙂𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙃𝙔 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 ↴

youngest daughter to high-profile lawyer, victor romero ( think og rob kardashian ) and plastic surgeon to the rich and famous, irene romero. her sister, isabella, is an a-famed journalist and new york time’s best selling author. and sofia is... well the family disappointment

her parents are rather cold and calculating people that didn’t exactly create a welcoming environment for creativity and self-expression in their home. and sofia pretty much broke every single expectation they had for her, leaving them without any idea on how to properly parent her. so she grew up rather independent and distant from her family

her one true passion is art-- particularly painting. hanging out in her school’s art room was her favorite thing in the world. most of her middle and high school years were spent competing in art competitions and earning awards for her work. by the end of her high school career, she had a promising future as an artist with an acceptance to a good arts school in the city secure

but creating art at a collegiate level among other future professionals was a lot different than high school UIL competitions. sofia struggled with feeling less talented and capable than her peers which hurt her self-esteem and put a damper on her dreams. it was at this low point during her junior year in college that an opportunity of a lifetime was presented to her

she was approached by one of the producers of love island usa with a casting opportunity. going on a reality tv show was honestly never something that sofia saw herself doing. but she figured she didn’t have much else to lose ?? and it could be fun ?? so basically she said YOLO and auditioned for the show, resulting in her being cast as a season 1 islander babyyyy

long story short: love island was fun as hell. she did in fact find love, was a fan favorite, and won the whole damn show. she and her boyfriend moved in together shortly after becoming $100,000 richer. and you would think that a couple strong enough to win love island would be together forever, right? HA

it basically ended up in disaster for sofia with her finding out he cheated on her and had her out here looking STUPID. she was truly heartbroken considering they had been in the talks of engagement. but what can ya do?

she’s done many different side jobs in hopes of staying relevant in the media but her most successful endeavor so far is her podcast. it’s basically the “call her daddy” podcast where she shares stories about love, sex, relationships, and hook-up culture in nyc. it can get very raunchy and she’s definitely exposed herself more than anyone probably should ??? but it’s fun and it keeps her name in the headlines

safe to say her parents only had to hear one episode of the podcast to decide that they were beyond disappointed in her. they’re on the brink of disowning her at this point, which would sever what little connection she has to her family + make her lose access to her trust fund. but she’s trying not to stress about it since she makes her own money now

*+.. 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 ↴

pls if anyone is down, give me a co-host for her podcast. they could just be two best friends sharing stories of their crazy lives & wildest hook-up experiences. i’d love to see it

i think it could be interesting if she had an ex that she was dating before going on love island. like imagine if she broke up with them to go on the show ??? and they hadn’t talked since but they had to watch her move on, publicly on tv. and frankly, it could be karma that her relationship from that show ended badly. idk there’s just potential drama there and the chance for her ex before the show to laugh in her face, which is deserved probs

on the platonic side of things: pls gimme best friends, maybe a roommate, party buddies, good influence, bad influence, childhood friends, confidant, adventure buddies, family friends

on the romantic side of things: other exes on good terms or bad terms, current friends with benefits, past hook-up that she may or may not have talked about on the podcast ( either fondly or derogatory ), tinder matches, enemies with benefits, crush, will they / won’t they

other fun ideas could be: enemies, rivals, someone she’s had as a guest on the podcast, frenemies, friends of friends that haven’t had the chance to bond on their own but they always run into each other, neighbors, they know each other from social media and they hype each other’s instagram selfies or whatever but haven’t met in person yet, ex-friends, pr enemies that actually get along really great in person but are always beefing on social media for the clout

#nouveau.intro #sorry this is late !!!#i'll be comin' at y'all for plotting soon hehe <3

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florrickandassociates · 4 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 4x01-- The Gang Deals with Alternate Reality

I had a lot to say about this one, guys.

Welcome back! I see this season TGF has decided to be It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Is this some sort of joke about how last season it was always raining? Is every title going to be like this? And where are the numbers!? There is no counting of any kind in this episode title!

When you think about it, the central argument of this episode-- that 45’s election brought new life to resistance movements that would’ve otherwise laid dormant-- is also my central argument about why TGF is a good show instead of a passable one. Remember how in season one the point of the show was supposed to be a fake scandal about Maia?

So it’s fitting that we begin season four by going back to the show’s pilot: Inauguration Day. Only this time, Diane is happily watching Hillary Clinton’s inauguration. Did I say happily? I meant ecstatically.

As Diane pops champagne, the TV goes to static-- something’s off-- and the credits begin. Same credits as season 3 but with one key difference: things are coming together rather than exploding. I see what you did there. (The TVs still explode, though, and they still have the real 45 on them.)

Yeah I didn’t need to see the credits to know the Kings wrote this one.

I think the notes the Kings left in the script for this episode for Brooke Kennedy just said, “Make Diane look like a glamorous badass.” I’m like one minute in and she’s already popped champagne and worn trendy sunglasses.

Brooke’s directing in this episode is so stylish and it might be my favorite ep she’s ever done? The showiness (and sometimes campy performances) REALLY work for the tone of this episode.

Diane takes the elevator to work and looks quizzical. One may be tempted to ask how Diane knows to go to RBL if it’s the day after inauguration and she’s still at Lockhart Deckler whatever (one may then snark that RBL is in the LG space so she’d go there no matter what). The answer is: dream logic!

(But really, little disorienting moments like that-- and yes, I know this was probably only disorienting for me and one other person-- help the episode work long before we know this isn’t a true alternate universe.)

Marissa is waiting at reception to inform Diane that HRC’s press secretary is in her office. Diane then asks Marissa who the president is, and Marissa asks Diane if she’s microdosing again. Ha! Also, that’s another clear clue that something’s up-- Diane wouldn’t have already microdosed right after inauguration. And why would Diane have microdosed in this AltVerse? Again-- dream logic. And I love it. In episodes like this, when things don’t add up, it’s wonderfully disorienting instead of frustrating. (Plus, this line is a knowing wink at fans about the absurdity of the microdosing storyline.)

Marissa confirms that it’s 2020 in show time. Diane has a flash of a selection of horrific images that have come out of these last few years, then says, ”God, have you ever had a dream that is so real that it takes you a long time to wake up?” I wish.

Diane wants to know how Hillary won, and Marissa says she won in a landslide-- 3 million votes. “Same as in my dream,” Diane says. Marissa thinks she means the other candidate had 3 million more votes, and wonders how he won if he had fewer votes. On one hand, Marissa totally knows about the electoral college. On the other hand, would “3 million votes” and hating the electoral college be cliched and top of mind enough to work as the joke in this scene if those votes had actually mattered? Probably not. I doubt many people would be talking about abolishing the electoral college, or that Marissa or even Diane would be SO quick to understand how one could win the popular vote and not the election, if we hadn’t all lived through the past three years. Also dream logic. It’s a great way of explaining things that are out of character.

“Whatever, it’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense,” says Marissa, making my point for me.

Oh hello there Lucca, your jacket is very bright. Lucca asks to sit in on Diane’s meeting with the press secretary. Lucca was up for a partnership in 3x10 but in this episode she’s very obviously an underling (and honestly seems a bit lower ranking and hesitant than usual-- I’ll need another episode or two to understand if this is how the writers are writing Lucca, how Diane views Lucca, or just what was easiest for the plot).

The White House is now asking Diane to take on cases. Way to dream big, Diane!

And Diane will be arguing in front of the Supreme Court!

In the alternate universe, Liz’s wonderful bathroom belongs to Diane.

Diane gets to do so many things she wouldn’t usually do in this ep, like furiously shake her head to prove to herself she’s not dreaming!

Diane still has that Girl With Flower As Head painting and I do not believe she would have that painting if HRC were president because it’s too friggin weird. Also has it always had a US flag in the background?

In the alternate universe, Garland and Warren (as in Elizabeth) are both on the court. It’s a good laughline precisely because it’s so plausible. (Well, idk about the Warren part, but she’s a recognizable name.)

Diane looks so happy she could cry when she learns Warren is on the Supreme Court.

There is a shot of Lucca that is so very clearly from Diane’s POV and I like it. I read a review of this episode that said it didn’t have enough character development. To that I say, one, this isn’t TGW-- this show has always been more about tone and theme, and two, there’s PLENTY here that’s about Diane’s POV and how she views others and thinks of herself. Because it’s dream logic I can’t make nearly as much out of it as I can make out of an episode like A Few Words, but there are little touches here and there. Even this shot of Lucca, where Lucca’s in the center of the frame shot from a high angle, grounds me in Diane’s POV. You could even make an argument about hierarchy based on the angle.

“Who’s that?” Lucca whispers when Diane asks about Kavanaugh. Diane is elated at that response.

Somehow we leave Diane’s POV (whatever, it’s a dream so I won’t be as brutal to this choice as I was to a similar but more subtle one in Don’t Fail) and follow Lucca into Adrian’s office. She immediately tells Liz and Adrian she’s concerned about Diane. That sounds like Lucca alright.

Diane is DANCING in her office as she watches news coverage that isn’t a garbage fire.

I’m curious y’all-- are people in your area cheering at a certain time? Hearing cheers every night during this pandemic is one of the few things I like about this awful moment in time. (My recap writing was just interrupted by cheering, if you couldn’t guess the reason for this abrupt digression.)

News stories in alternate reality: Cancer has been cured, there is polar bear overpopulation, the rainforest has been saved, 45 is REDUCING the amount of content he’s putting out into the world, and $35,000 is missing from some government agency. Ha. All that and people are hung up on $35,000? Sounds about right, actually.

Diane hugs Liz and Adrian because she feels like a weight has been lifted off of her. I appreciate that Diane acts without restraint or concern for what other people think in this episode. This is central to why I think this episode is actually a pretty good character study: this is who Diane imagines herself to be, more or less. Real Diane, no matter how bizarre things are, probably would handle herself more professionally in a work meeting and probably wouldn’t let feelings like this show. Dream Diane has no reason to double check herself. This is just how she thinks she’d react if there were absolutely no constraints. Not that she’s actively thinking- she’s just doing.

Diane is very excited to be watching the news, and Adrian thinks she’s nuts-- there are scandals! Like the missing $35k and THE EMAILS. The GODDAMN EMAILS. Even a fictional joke about how they’d still be a scandal makes me mad. Twenty years from now it will still be too soon to remind me of the emails. (And to play Fight Song, that song is cancelled.)

A haircut is also a scandal because sexism.

I admire this show for calling attention to problems on both sides without ever screaming BOTH SIDES ARE EQUALLY BAD. This episode may call out some of the good things that have happened as a result of the 2016 election, but the whole premise of this joke rests on the fact that only one of the two potential administrations could run through a year’s worth of scandals in a day.

Might circle back to this later on-- btw I write these after watching the whole episode, so I do know what’s going to happen next-- but I don’t think the show is trying to make the case that it’s good 45 was elected. I think they’re trying to ask questions about how the world has changed and cause and effect so we can understand the moment we’re in. Above, I said I liked hearing my neighbors cheer every night. And I could write a lot of words on how that collective activity inspires me, makes me feel connected even when I’ve been stuck inside for a month, etc, how I’ve gotten better about keeping in touch with old friends, whatever, and NONE of that would mean that a global pandemic is a good thing. It just means that like any huge societal phenomenon, its implications are complex.

TGF and TGW have always, always, always been shows about understanding where we are in time. That’s what this episode does. And it makes sense to do a thought experiment like this now, at the start of season 4, in a season opener. We’ve had enough time living in this world that we can reflect on it.

Diane laughs, because what Diane dream sequence would be complete without a glorious laugh?

Adrian’s kinda suspicious of Hillary. Sure, cancer’s been cured, but it’s not public how or when!

God it’s weird to hear some of the most absurd happenings of the last three years as punchlines.

The line about the Obama’s overall deal at Netflix is fire.

Diane laughs AGAIN.

Oh right, Harriet Tubman was going to be on the $20 bill. (Is it obvious yet that I am the exact right target for this episode?)

Julius is VERY mad about Hillary’s $500 haircut. Heh. He’s also publicly supporting Trump which is interesting (and probably a dream logic thing; Diane knows he supported Trump therefore in her dream he isn’t ever hesitant to share that he voted for Trump.)

“Only Hillary could cure cancer and turn it into a scandal,” someone else adds. I’m loving all these jokes. He is mad cancer wasn’t cured earlier and that it’s been cured in an election year. This joke is funny because it’s exactly what would happen in this scenario.

I wonder if Julius would be more likely to speak up about his political affiliation if the stakes were lower. If 45 lost, then is supporting him as much of a thing to hide in a place like RBL? People would be mad but they probably would get over their moral opposition to his views a lot faster when it isn’t a real threat.

Diane’s brought in a huge client, which is news to her. And that client is none other than Harvey Weinstein, which… my God this is an interesting thought experiment.

“I’m amazed you got him away from Lisa Bloom,” Adrian says. YIKES!!!! (If y’all haven’t read Catch and Kill yet, pick up a copy ASAP.)

No one’s heard of Weinstein’s sexual assault issues. I believe it. I mean, I think some women in power might have known before 2017-- I still vividly recall how many journalists reacted to the release of the story not with “Oh my God, how has this been going on for so long?” but with “Holy shit, someone managed to publish a story about this?!”-- but I’ll believe that the general consensus in elite liberal circles was to set the rumors aside and not share them widely.

I can’t watch this episode without thinking about VIP Treatment (2x05 of TGW). That episode, which raises the question of what happens when someone accuses a liberal legend of sexual assault, feels so ahead of its time. It aired in 2010. And I just, right this moment, learned that it was ripped from the headlines about accusations a masseuse made against Al Gore. Guys. I didn’t know there were allegations in 2010 about Al Gore. Is that because I was 16 in 2010 and just never heard of (or forgot about) the story? Is it because he had less power? Is it because of something specific about the reporting or the allegations? Or is it because we as a culture swept it under the rug since it was (allow me to be the millionth person to make this awful joke) an inconvenient truth?

I don’t know the answers to the above. What I do know is that this episode is making me ask those questions.

In Marissa’s world (“you mean reality?”), 45 bragged about grabbing women by the pussy and then lost the election. And the story ended there. There was no women’s march, no #MeToo.

Sarah Steele gets to react to a lot of things in this episode and it is very delightful to see her say things like, “what are pussy hats?”

Diane looks so angry and stunned when she realizes that Weinstein is still “a thing” in the world.

He won the Presidential Medal of Freedom because of course he did.

His wikipedia page says his only controversies are about his managerial style. Yikes.

Marissa’s reaction to the phrase “masturbating into plants” is one of the best things about this episode. I love that she gets so hung up on it.

Charlie Rose is the first name other than Weinstein that comes to mind for Diane when Marissa asks what other men were serial harassers. I’ve got to think that Rose gets the most attention here in no small part because he was part of the CBS family-- he was even on TGW.

I’ve seen Annaleigh Ashford in so many things recently.

Diane handles the meeting with Team Weinstein VERY poorly (she also does not care to handle it well), while Adrian covers with the “all options are open to us” gibberish that Diane absolutely would be able to convincingly deploy in a meeting she couldn’t follow. I point this out because it shows that 1) Diane isn’t behaving the way she would in reality and 2) Diane does not give a fuck.

If this were reality, would Diane push so hard in this meeting? I don’t know. This situation is so far removed from reality it’s hard to tell. But my sense is that Diane would like to think of herself as someone who would never waver in her commitment to Doing The Right Thing, but she’d probably be a lot more diplomatic-- even in real 2020-- in initial meetings. It’s a bit dated at this point, but in VIP Treatment Diane was hesitant to believe the victim because the man accused of assault was a high profile liberal. To her credit, she does eventually choose the victim over her own politics. But I could totally see Diane-- with no knowledge of the real timeline-- behaving like her friend/HRC’s press secretary Zoe does in this episode.

All that to say: personally, I don’t think #MeToo would’ve caught on to the extent it did if women weren’t already angry. I believe there could have been a hashtag and some stories (maybe even the Weinstein story). But I also believe women felt an urgent need to speak out and organize. And I believe that more women were inclined to believe victims and get angry. And I believe that it was only because of the world in general that #MeToo spread outside of a few online circles. To put it another way, you know how there are sometimes cases of the week on this show where you might know the reference in detail, but if you ask a co-worker or friend about it they’ll know either nothing or only the very basics? I think all of #MeToo could’ve ended up like one of those cases if it hadn’t played out with 2017 in the background.

Dreams aren’t subtle: Weinstein’s publicity tour includes appearances with Charlie Rose and Matt Lauer. (This joke also serves as a reminder that sexual harassment is a systemic problem.)

Diane is SO confrontational in this meeting. Also, the woman they’re meeting with is SO FRIGGIN COMPLICIT.

Weinstein’s team frames sexual assault allegations-- which are still floating around even in alt2020-- as a Republican conspiracy. I have no doubt they would have used this approach if given the chance.

I’m on page six and fifteen minutes in, damn.

Adrian, or Diane’s version of Adrian, does not believe women and seems to hate Hillary Clinton a little bit too. An accurate portrayal of Adrian? Lines that betray Diane’s suspicion of where Adrian stands on women’s issues? Or just that Adrian is there to be the person pushing back and it could’ve been anyone? (I think it’s somewhere between the first two, personally. If this could’ve been anyone, why not Liz?)

In this alternate universe NBC’s refusal to broadcast Ronan Farrow’s investigation is proof of Weinstein’s innocence, because in the alt universe we still apparently have faith in the corporate culture at NBC. (Perhaps the most surprising thing to me about Catch and Kill is that a LOT of it is dedicated to exposing the shit that went down within NBC. It’s fascinating and also makes it crystal clear how assault is a systemic problem and not just a few bad apples you should avoid being alone with.)

Adrian’s reaction when Diane mentions Reddick (Adrian knows nothing of the accusations in this universe) changes the tone of this scene in an instant and it’s breathtaking. This is the one moment in the episode where she knows she has to shut up.

The one thing about this ep I am not sure I buy is that the firm is struggling because of the rise in corporate taxes. But I know so little about this issue I don’t care if it’s right or wrong.

After Diane leaves Adrian’s office, Liz asks, “What about my dad?” meaning she somehow heard the conversation through the wall. (The door was definitely closed so either their office design is worse than I thought or it’s just dream logic.) Diane doesn’t share the rumor with Liz.

Lucca is for some reason on this case, and they are for some reason in court on the same day they learned about the case. And the best part is that I don’t have to worry about whether or not this is plausible BECAUSE IT’S ALL A DREAM

Another thing I’ll say about this ep-- it’s pace remarkably well. The opening previews what’s to come, there’s just enough happy liberal utopia with funny jokes at the start, the Weinstein twist comes at the right moment, and the shift to the more dark, character focused scenes that wrap up the episode come exactly when the writers have gotten as much mileage as they can out of this premise. I knew this episode would be fantastic the moment I saw it was only 41 minutes long.

The judge keeps saying the opposing counsel’s full name, Ann Howard. Is this supposed to be a familiar name to me? I am not getting the reference.

The judge’s ruling is basically that no one would take the risk involved in assaulting someone at work these days so the case must be bogus. And then we see, immediately (because, dream) that the judge is totally corrupt and just wants to get his daughter an internship with Weinstein.

“Justice is an equation. Justice equals the law times the zeitgeist. The law on its own doesn’t stand up. You need the mood of the times on your side,” Diane eloquently explains. That’s basically what this episode is saying. To put it more simply: Context matters and nothing happens in a vacuum. (TGF and TGW were always about the context-- you simply couldn’t do a show about a woman standing by her cheating politician husband and being REVERED for it in 2020. That’s not about the law, but the same principle applies.)

Lucca says they won, so the zeitgeist worked for them-- and how could it be against women when the president is a woman? Remember how the Kings used to say that TGF was going to be about Diane retiring because she thought the glass ceiling had been shattered? I always thought that sounded wrong, but this episode is helping me understand what they were thinking a little bit.

Lucca calls out Diane, a bit abruptly, on how only the woman partners probably would get to say “no more” if there were to be a women’s movement because the associates can’t risk it. Lucca’s right and she’s wrong-- her words underestimate how mainstream and trendy it’s become to publicly talk about sexual harassment, but she’s 100% right that there are still underlying power dynamics.

Diane’s Lucca is V V V V V V V concerned with power dynamics and VERY much wants to be higher ranking. On the one hand, actual Lucca wants to rank higher too. On the other, is there a piece of Diane that sees Lucca as power hungry?

Lucca’s asked to take documents to Weinstein, and she’s flattered. Diane, like every viewer, sees this as a car crash in slow motion. She knows exactly what will happen when Lucca gets to his hotel with the documents. But Lucca, who’s in the dark, only knows it’s a good opportunity to impress a huge client.

Diane tells Weinstein’s… whatever she is? That she is “Harvey’s pimp” and she is not wrong. Also since I don’t actually know this woman’s job title I’ll just refer to her that way moving forward.

(See what I mean about Diane just saying things that are totally unprofessional bc this is a dream Diane who does what she wants and not actual Diane making tough decisions?)

Lucca is REALLY bitter about how Diane is always taking opportunities away from her. They’re definitely trying to do something with Lucca in this episode but as I said earlier, I think I need to see what they have planned for the rest of the season before I can fully understand what they’re going for.

Diane tells Lucca exactly what is going to happen when she goes to drop off the papers. Lucca won’t hear it, so Diane asks Marissa to keep an eye on her.

Another possibility for what they’re trying to do with Lucca (and Adrian): Maybe it’s supposed to be about how different Types would react-- the powerful man who benefits from not questioning things and has some latent sexism issues; the ambitious young woman who gets caught in a bad situation because she’s trying to move her career forward. The more I think about it, the more I think this is what they’re going for-- and the question I should be asking is what does it mean about Adrian and Lucca (in terms of how the writers see them, in terms of how Diane sees them) that they can take on these roles so easily?

(It may say nothing about Diane because… idk, do YOU do thoughtful character analysis in your sleep? Because I don’t!)

Marissa is still stuck on the plants and I love it.

Lucca catches Marissa right away, but all that accomplishes is that both of them clearly see that Diane is right. These scenes feel a little unnecessary (they’re also not in Diane’s POV, though surely dreams can have tangents) and I think they’re only here to illustrate how the system works. I can’t imagine this scene is teaching many people new information.

Also there’s… just not another scene with Lucca in this episode? And I don’t know if I feel like that’s a bad thing or like it’s part of dream logic? I think it’s probably just bad plotting that the unnecessary sequence ends abruptly and doesn’t return.

“With the presidency, women can do whatever they want,” says one of Diane’s liberal friends at a women’s event. I’m… not 100% sure anyone would say this. If this were true why would they even be having a gala for a women’s charity? But point taken. People love this type of statement.

So Diane’s extremely low cut dress like has a mesh thing covering her exposed chest??I can’t figure it out.

Weinstein is also a hero to everyone at the feminist charity. When Diane hears this, she gives an interview to a reporter about having a long way to go, which I 100% believe would be the message no matter reality we’re in what because literally no one is going to say please donate to my cause we have no battles left to fight BUT I DIGRESS. Diane tries to ignite #MeToo (and even name checks Tarana Burke, so that’s awesome) and is quickly cut off.

Then, after giving the interview, she has Jay (hello!) set her up on Twitter. Dream Diane is revealing just how little she understands how social media works. She also wants to link to a “Me Too Site” which is… not how any of this works, Diane.

Diane sees herself on the news-- she’s mostly cut from the piece and her words are taken out of context.

Adrian and Liz stare Diane down for calling Weinstein’s pimp a pimp and Diane defends herself. Liz doesn’t believe this either. Diane is asked to sign a VERY RIDICULOUS (like it sounds like 45 more than anything else) apology letter and laughs.

Liz reminds her that they’re close to bankruptcy and that they’ve defended killers before (oh, and, most relevant-- the assholes to avoid case, I can’t believe I went to 205 to think about how Diane would react in a more nuanced present day situation when I had that example!), why would Diane draw the line here? “Everyone deserves a defense. Just not everyone deserves MY defense,” Diane says. You know it’s a dream when a character on this show actually says that. Do you know how many times (if you’re still reading this you probably do know) I have written something to the effect of “SAYING EVERYONE DESERVES REPRESENTATION IS NOT THE SAME AS REPRESENTING THEM YOURSELF, LIZ/DIANE/ADRIAN/WILL/ALICIA/CARY/LUCCA/WHOEVER”? It’s been a lot.

(Here is something I wrote in a case in which Diane, at the height of #MeToo, defended some assholes for money: “‘I wouldn’t say hate. We’re obligated,’ Diane says. Ohhh yes this is a new pet peeve. Y’all are not obligated. You were not assigned this case. You chose to take it for the money.”)

Idk what my point is here, maybe that this feels like a dream because the characters are never this principled in reality.

Zoe, the press secretary, wants Diane to shut down #MeToo. Lucca’s there too, but she says nothing (despite the experience she may have just had, because dream). Zoe doesn’t want women to get angry about abuse because “that’s not the message that helps us in 2020.” Ooof. But I buy it. I am not sure if it’s ACCURATE that anger wouldn’t help but I can completely see campaign staffers being afraid it would hurt, especially given that Bill Clinton has… more than a few issues.

This scene veers into Diane’s POV. The camera gets closer and closer to her as she feels boxed in, and Liz, Adrian, and the pimp stare accusingly at her. Suddenly she realizes she doesn’t know where Kurt is because she’s spent the last few days at work. I think the most dream-like thing about this is the way Kurt just suddenly pops into the dream and shifts the tone of the whole thing.

She runs off. Liz and Adrian ask Diane to step back from the firm for Weinstein and she’s like, okay, I’m going home, “I don’t know how I changed my clothes, I went to that event last night and I have different clothes on now and I don’t know where Kurt is.” I LOVE watching this whole episode twist into something this weird.

When Diane gets home, there’s a man fixing her door. He’s watching Trump TV, which is currently airing Felix Staples singing “This Wall is Your Wall” and honestly this is the best use of Felix Staples in the show so far.

The man fixing Diane’s door also remembers reality. He doesn’t know why he’s fixing Diane’s door. It’s disorienting.

Diane gets a beer with the man fixing her door and wonders about if she even likes this world where HRC is president (or if the problem is just that she doesn’t believe it). (I think she’d like it just fine if she experienced it linearly, tbh.)

Sexy gun lady from a previous episode is back, and Kurt’s guns are missing because he didn’t want them to be confiscated (I do not believe this would ever be a policy but this is a full on illogical dream right now) and now Diane is talking to the TV.

“I’m in the car, right?” Diane says while standing in her bedroom and pretending to grab a steering wheel. Heh.

Diane drives to a cabin in the woods (the way this is shot is SO atmospheric) and finds Kurt, in shadow, in the woods. So THIS is what Robert King was going for in Mind’s Eye in the clumsily directed scene with fake Will in shadow. Gotta say, the whole “person you love and can’t quite picture” thing works a ton better when it is obvious it’s an intentional style choice.

This scene is so weird because suddenly politics doesn’t matter and Diane only cares about Kurt and also Kurt might be dead? I am not sure I understand what this is saying. And I’m pretty sure I spent the entirety of this scene the first time through alternating between thinking “ooh pretty”, “this is what 614 wanted to be,” and “please don’t kill Kurt!!”

Kurt pulls Diane to reality and gets her to recap where we left off. She wakes up on the floor of her bedroom. She and Kurt have both, thankfully, survived Book Club’s SWATting.

HA the first thing Diane says when she wakes up is “What happened?” which… that HAS to be intentional right????

To check that Diane is of sound mind, one of the agents asks her how many fingers he’s holding up and who’s president. She laughs.

This episode is UNDER 40 minutes if you exclude the credits and promo.

Guess we’re not doing recap songs.

Had a lot to say about this one. I’ve liked TGW’s mind-y episodes more, but that’s not really a fair comparison since the point of this wasn’t character study… it was tone setting.

What this episode does NOT give me is a sense of what season 4 will be about, other than the usual absurdity.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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harryhighkey · 6 years

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hello hi hi hi, it’s been one long ass minute but i’m back w another one shot!!! i’m v aware it’s not how you want him part 3 and that is what 90% of my messages are about, but, well this is not that at all, it’s something completely different

idk if u heard but thank u next dropped and i fucking love it!!!!!!! NASA is my favourite favourite favourite and this one shot is honestly a little inspired by it!! also, i’m kind of a little bit self-projecting bc of my own experiences lately lmao

but idk, like my last one shot i needed to write this for me right now and idk i love the idea of it and all that

it’s v angst i think, might do a part 2?????? might not???? sorry if there’s mistakes, i literally wrote it all down in one sitting bc i was just !!!!!! issa mood u know

ANYWAY LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINK!!! PLS ENJOY

___________________________

One hundred and fourteen days is a really long time to spend away from the person you love. A really fucking long time. It’s almost a third of the year, a whole season you could spend apart. And in your case, the season was autumn.

Harry had left during the last weeks of summer and you’d spent the entirety of autumn without him. Even communicating was a little difficult with him constantly changing timezones and countries. The first few weeks were hard. Really, really hard. You and Harry were seemingly still in that honeymoon phase when he was boarding his plane, even after seven months of officially being a couple you two were inseparable and couldn’t get enough of each other. And then all of a sudden he was just gone.

It was a weird thing to feel, it was something kind of a like a break up, except not that all at the same time. Your heart was left feeling empty when he left, but it wasn’t broken in a way that you knew he was gone forever. But you did know it was going to be a long time.

On day twenty-two, you felt a little change. You were perking up again, replying to messages from friends, adding to your Instagram story again. The longing was still there but that morning you awoke early and embarked on doing a massive clean out of your apartment on your days off from work and after everything was re-organised, you felt refreshed.

Day twenty-nine was when Harry noticed that change. He often felt bad when he would call you on a high from singing in front of thousands of his fans and you were cooped up in your one bedroom place. It was never your intention for him to feel bad, you loved that he got to do what he loved. It made you happy to see him happy you just wished you could be with him to experience the same happiness. That was until you realised you’d found happiness in other places. Suddenly you realised, your life had existed before Harry, and honestly, you kind of loved your life. Your apartment only seemed small because you’d been staying in lavish penthouses on weekends away. And your apartment had kind of begun become a pit where you would disregard clothes in a hurry to pack a new suitcase for the next little trip he would take you on. Without Harry there, you began to love the things about your apartment you did before and do the things you used to do before your boyfriend was someone who could be instantly recognised by millions of people.

Harry had Facetimed you and you didn’t answer as quickly as you normally did. You weren’t just sitting and waiting for him to call. Once you answered you could barely hear him. You were out with your friends, your smile was bright but honestly, you barely paid him any attention.

It was a quick call, one that had Harry left a bit perplexed. He was happy you were happy, but he couldn’t ignore the insulted way he felt that he didn’t have the full attention off of you that he had become so accustomed to receiving.

Day forty-four. He cried. Really cried because of how much he missed you. He’d had a really hard day with the media blasting headlines everywhere about him and a model he wasn’t even sure if he had met before. You felt for him, and listened as he vented and promised you none of it was true. You told him he didn’t have to reassure you, you knew the truth. Of course you believed him, you trusted his loyalty to you. However, you’d been so distracted by the good things happening for you, you hadn’t thought to check the TMZ YouTube or even search Harry Styles on twitter to see what was going on. You didn’t even have a clue any of this was being said. It wasn’t really an issue for you at all, until Harry had brought it up, the only reason it had an affect on you was because it had an affect on him.

Day seventy-six you were both so happy. So, so, so happy. Harry had just played to his biggest crowd yet and you’d been offered a promotion at work. Both of your lives were riding high in their own rights. They just weren’t two lives together at this point.

Day one hundred and thirteen at 11:02pm, he showed up at your front door. He’d managed to find a private jet and fly home early. He surprised you. And fuck, your heart flew high. You were so in love with that boy and as he kissed you for the first time in a long time, you melted right into him again. The two of you made love all night. You called in sick to work the next day and the two of you spent the entire day together just laughing, kissing and touching each other. You couldn’t get enough of him, he couldn’t get enough of you.

Day one hundred and thirty-two, it was well and truly winter now, the days were cold and the nights were freezing but you had Harry at night to keep you warm, now. Then again, your blankets did just as good of a job, too.

What?

You weren’t that surprised, though, that wasn’t the first time you had a thought like that.

He had been home for nineteen days now, almost three full weeks. And fuck, did you love him, but fuck, did you want just a little room to breathe.

Three days ago, on day sixteen of him being home was when you really felt yourself getting annoyed. One of your favourite shows came back with a new season while Harry was away and you’d made a ritual every week of putting on a face mask and watching it in peace.

Harry thought he would watch it with you, and you didn’t mind. You were excited, at least at first you were. Then he started asking questions. From there it was a fast drop and everything he did started to annoy you. Eventually you told him to shut up and leave you alone. He went to bed, shocked.

The next day you didn’t talk about it, you woke up earlier than usual because you had an early start at work. You didn’t tell Harry.

Back to day one hundred and thirty-two, nineteen days into Harry being back and you came home from work to see him asleep on your little pink couch. Another time you would have found him so cute and endearing, but right now you felt like you couldn’t escape him. You went to your bedroom and his suitcase was opened, his clothes messily lingering around it. You went to your bathroom, he’d left the toothpaste opened. Again. Fuck you hated that.

Harry was staying with you, and when you said he could, you thought it would be fine. You thought it would be better than fine, you’d thought you would love it. He had sold his place before he left, the market was a good and his real estate agent told him he’d make a huge profit. He did, but now he was living in your little apartment with you and the place you once loved, then loathed and then loved again you were starting to loathe once more.

Or were you not loving Harry being there?

“Fuck this.” You murmured to yourself before you quickly got changed out of the clothes you wore to work and into something more comfortable before you grabbed your keys and left again.

It was 1:52am - or one hour and fifty-two minutes of day one hundred and thirty-three, twenty days of Harry being back - when you answered his call drunk.

“’lo boyfriend.”

“Oh my god, why haven’t you answered your phone?” He was relieved when you answered, after several attempts to contact you failed, he was starting to get desperate.

“I did right now?”

“You couldn’t answer any earlier?”

“Nah.” It was nice to have him on the phone, it reminded you of when he was away and when you missed him, you only thought about how much he loved you.

“Nah? What do you mean nah?” The word sounded so strange in his accent, you giggled. “What’re you laughing for?”

“You’re so pretty on the phone.”

“You’re really quite drunk. Did you drive?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, you got a ride home?”

“You still at my place?”

“Yeah, want me to get you?”

“Nah, want you gone when I get home.”

“What?” All that wine had given you liquid courage and while right now you weren’t feeling remorseful over what you had said, Harry felt that blow, he felt it hard. “Y/N?”

“You heard me. I just..give me some room to breathe.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“Don’t know.” You did know, he was crowding in on the life you had found once again while he was away.

“Do, do you want to break up?” He went quiet when he asked that, as if he was afraid to ask the question. You were being brutally honest in this moment and he wasn’t sure what other kind of swings he was going to take from you right now.

“No, fuck no.” Your reply was instant, he was relieved again. “Love you so much, Harry, really. Never wan’ end it.”

“I don’t understand, then, what’s the issue?”

“I just, like, my place is a little too small for the both of us, you know?”

“I can get us a bigger place-”

“I don’t want a bigger place, I like my place.”

“What do you want, then? I'd give you the whole world if I could.” He was on the verge of tears, his eyes were welling up and you couldn’t see him but you could imagine it pretty well.

“Baby, s’okay. I don’t want the world, just want... a little space. Space. I want space, not the world.”

“You don’t want me here?”

“Not at the moment, I want a little me time, again.”

“We were apart for so long.”

“Yeah.. and remember how good we were those first couple’a weeks. Go away again. Give me a chance to miss you.” You really thought you couldn’t have been more clear, but when Harry didn’t respond, you felt guilt creeping in. “It’s not a bad thing, Harry. I love you and I want you forever and all that, but shit, usually I love it when you stay, I do. I just- I’m on another kind of page right now. There’s nothing wrong with some me time.”

“Okay.” His reply was so simple, so quick you couldn’t at all get a hint at what he would be doing on the other end. “Are you coming back here tonight?”

“Nah, going to stay with a friend. Be there tomorrow sometime.”

“Text me when you’re there? Wanna know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night...I love you.” You were so sure of yourself when you’d been telling Harry exactly how you’d been feeling but now you were terrified of not hearing those words returned.

“I love you, too.” He hung up then.

Your emotions were all over the place as you stared at the picture that was your lockscreen background. Taken on day one hundred and seventeen, four days of him being home, he was laying on the couch with his arms lifted and bent and covering part of his face, but you could see his smile. His beautiful smile that made you smile, you were behind the camera and had been straddling his hips. You thought back to that moment of post lazy morning sex and he looked so gorgeous you couldn’t help but to take a photo, which he tried to avoid, but his smile was perfect. You swore that right now, you could hear the exact laugh he did on that perfect day. You wanted to feel like that again.

Fuck.

Did you make a mistake?

No, you were sure to get back to that moment, you needed the space. Right?

Right now, you couldn’t think about it, you weren’t going to let yourself have that internal battle. Instead, you went back inside the bar with your friends to have one last glass of wine and a hungover version of you on day one hundred and thirty-three could face the consequences.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles concept #harry styles concepts #harry styles drabble #my writing #my writings #writings #space

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malvchis · 6 years

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hello it’s violet Back with another late intro ! this is me from the future :-) i rewrote this intro like a little over three months ago and i’m too excited to play him to write it a third time so just like this post and i’ll come to you for plotting ! but until then here’s my angsty / lowkey softie / highkey garbage Son <3 for future reference i’d like to say this vine is also 1000% him okay thank u for ur time

a CHARLES MELTON lookalike just rolled into new york city in their PORSCHE 911 SPORT CLASSIC. MALACHI ROTHSCHILD just had a birthday bash for his TWENTY-THIRD birthday. i doubt he’ll make it here in new york city since i hear he tends to be DOGMATIC, but on the other hand he is STOIC. ( cismale & he/him )

「 *.:｡*𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓼. 」

FULL NAME: malachi saul rothschild. NICKNAME(S): mal, m, kai. AGE: twenty two. DATE OF BIRTH: july 15th, 1996. ASTROLOGY SIGN: cancer sun, aries moon, capricorn rising. GENDER: male. PRONOUNS: he / him / his. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english, spanish, some greek. OCCUPATION: musician. BIOLOGICAL PARENTS: cassandra & wren rothschild. STEP PARENT(S): tba. SIBLINGS: lilia rothschild ( sixteen ). PET(S): none. CHILDREN: none. RELIGION: grew up in a catholic household, but agnostic. DRINK / DRUGS / SEX: yes / yes / yes. FACECLAIM: calum hood. EYE COLOR: brown. HAIR: brunette. HEIGHT: 6′2. RIGHT/LEFT HANDED: right. TATTOOS: i’ll come up with this later but he def has a spongebob tattoo on his ankle he got when he was drunk TRAITS: diligent, altruistic, reverent, dogmatic, taciturn, brooding. NOTABLE HABITS: smokes at least three cigarettes a day, zones out during most conversations, drums his fingers against any surface when he’s nervous. NECESSITIES: pack of marlboro cigarettes, airpods, vintage band tees. LIKES: sweatshirts, naps, driving, adrenaline, performing in front of huge crowds. DISLIKES: cantaloupe, sleeping alone, not meeting someone’s standards, materialism. DISORDER(S): generalized anxiety.

「 *.:｡*𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂. 」

so my backstory is gonna be pretty similar since i haven’t changed that at all and it’s already pretty fleshed out heh

basically malachi’s parents are well-known by his father owning one of the top 10 law firms in the us and his mom is a child actress turned real housewife star ( think brandi glanville or kyle richards if u watch rhobh )

growing up with a younger sister, he was expected to be the golden child of the family and for a little while he was just that

he got good grades and did whatever his dad told him to do like growing up malachi looked up to his dad so much that was his idol

so taking over the law firm and all was fine because he wanted to be just like him u know

then one day at a friend’s house he played guitar hero and his life changed…. Forever :-)

i wish i was kidding but it literally did

he bought the game and would play it for HOURS straight but it wasn’t a real guitar so he went out a bought one and the rest is history <3

malachi was taught to always say the right thing and never truly learned how to express himself so he did it through writing and eventually the guitar and writing kinda tied in together

and of course his dad didn’t approve heh ! which was understandable at first because his grades started slipping in middle school and he kinda got lost in music

also he kinda stopped taking himself so serious and lowkey became the class clown charm is all apart of the rockstar lifestyle it makes sense fight me

so he was getting in trouble more frequently and his dad was getting sick of paying off whoever he needed to make it all go away u know

and i feel like malachi was given internships to go to every summer when he turned 15/16 and he never went to those :-)

it got to the point where his dad would like physically throw his guitar to smash it and he’d threaten to cut malachi off if he didn’t take his future seriously ( tw: drug mention ) and so malachi had to resort to selling his mom’s antidepressants at parties to pay for his equipment because his dad was cutting him off

and he’d try to reach out to his mom but she’s honestly off in her own world and she loves pretending everything’s fine sdjksk it’s a lil dark but it’s FINE

so i think for the sake of keeping the family intact he played along for a little and was basically his dad’s puppet for his junior/senior year of hs

but he dropped out last minute and moved to new york to start his music career all by himself fun :-)

he’s lived in new york for about 5 years now so keep that in mind ok omg i think that’s all

「 *.:｡*𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂. 」

before i start i’d just like to say his vc is joji but for purposes of him performing at coachella with his boys, his second vc is mac demarco !

i’m picky and idk which voice i like better for malachi so we’ll see :)

ok so in my first intro i said he’s a lowkey softie but i was wrong

he’s a HUGE softie 90% of the time it’s bad but my excuse is that he’s a cancer so he’s sensitive aubrey

he doesn’t really show it unless it’s through song writing though because he’s a cliche but that’s the best way for him to do it

he’s a very boombox over the shoulder kind of person

definitely a mix of being rebellious and stubborn ! he doesn’t really know how to listen to anybody besides himself because listening to himself has gotten this far so u know

basically that gifset of kim k going “thanks for your lovely advice but i’m not gonna take it”

relationship-wise it takes him months of fully getting over someone but it also takes him .5 seconds to fall in love with someone new he’s gross

omg he’s also super protective of people he cares about that’s his redeeming quality for sure

he’ll fully punch out anybody that messes with his friends and he’s done it before

oh also he somehow always gets into bar fights ? like 90% of the time without fail it’s either his drunk ass picking on some guy 10 times bigger than him or the other way around so that’s his life honestly

he’s not /as/ reckless as he used to be but if anyone does something dumb he’s definitely there encouraging it

but he’s also the type to just stay home for 3 days straight playing video games or writing music or napping since he loves those

don’t get me wrong though if he’s in the mood to party he’ll go all out and do c*ke off of everyone

he’s a very all or nothing person like there’s no such thing as moderation with him and he doesn’t know her

also he’s kinda oblivious most of the time because he’s off in his own world

basically he’s dumb and he never listens to anyone ever thanks

okay so thank god i actually wrote out some wanted connections and honestly most of them are open now so let’s go to town and just mash a bunch of plots together skdjsk

any brotp plot like “the boys are back” hsm 3 kinda thing thanks

brotps apply to any gender though he needs friends akjskdk

family friends

cousins maybe idk?? anything familial is fine with me

childhood friends <3 <3

one-sided crush that’s probably on his side

first love / exes

literally any exes plot i have pretty good ideas for these that mostly ended badly because of him rip

i just have so many songs that i wanna dedicate to people for plots please

BUT we can do exes that ended good or bad because of your muse i’m not picky

good / bad influence

roommates omg if u have to live with mal good luck but it’ll be FUN someone volunteer

enemies or some kind of rivalry/competition thing

frenemies :-)

fwb but also enemies with benefits

crushes that never went anywhere

omg a summer fling hello please

just tell me what u want and i’ll come up with something hehe <3

#wealthyhq:intro #drug mention tw #i forgot how to tag #but i FINISHED hello plot with me <3

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drews-diary · 3 years

Text

21.08.19

today’s diary entry is gonna be weird. also hi, its been a while. a few days ago, i learned that the fourteen year old i tutor has a boyfriend. and while that is a perfectly reasonable age to have a boyfriend i just cant get over the fact that someone born in 2007 is already capable of typing let alone dating. I remember when my friends little brother who was also born in 2007 was crawling around and cried cuz he hit his head on the table. but to be fair that didnt really bother me too much as i always felt as though i was stagnant and things around me were the ones always changing.

But then today i was listening to taylor swift’s old albums cuz i was feeling nostalgic and i listened to fifteen from the fearless album that came out back in 2009 and i realized that she released that song when she was around twenty which means she probably wrote in when she was in her teens writing about how she knows so much more than she did back when was starting high school that she wish she could tell her younger self. and i remembered listening to that album as a child and expecting myself to feel the same by the time i became an adult. yet here i am at 21 no thoughts head empty. and i realized that even if i met 15 year old me there is next to nothing i would want to tell her because i still feel like i am more or less still the same ignorant uninformed person. the only thing i would tell her is to stop fucking around and focus on school.

i feel like i dont have as much experience as the other people around me. I never used to care that i’ve never been romantically involved with someone, but i always thought it would happen eventually when i got to college but a three semesters have passed and i have yet to take a single class on campus.

to be completely honest the only reason i am even fever writing this right now is because i had a ice cream blending cold brew from starbucks this evening because i had to get up excruciatingly early for class registration (which i completely failed at) and had three tutoring classes today meaning i didnt have time for my daily afternoon nap so the coffee was the only thing making sure i didnt fall asleep during my last class. I purposely dont drink coffee regularly so that i can use it like a magic potion when i need it and the caffeine hits me like a bus. it has been six hours and i am still wide-eyed i should not have gotten a grande. today was also my first time trying coldbrew so there’s that. i was kinda grateful for the effects because it made sure i was awake for today’s episode of hospital playlist but now i kinda wanna sleep since i didnt get much last night and i would like to make sure i dont miss my class tomorrow morning, i have to get up at at least ten, but here i am typing this.and i think i am just going to keep going.

my family moved recently, and for the time being my entire room is surrounded by bookshelves because my brother’s bed is too big and we cant fix any bookshelves into his room and i am only using a mattress topper thing for the next few months. this is because i finally convinced my mom to let me throw out that horrid bed with the curved head and foot board with the flower decorations that always dug into the back of my head, neck, and back when i was trying to read. so that is the situation in my room until the end of the year when hopefully my brother’s whole situation will be over and we can finally go furniture shopping and switch rooms. (we are also currently living in each other’s room because his permanent room aka my current room cannot fit his fucking gigantic boat bed. actually i really love that bed i wish he was still young enough to use it its so cute.

i find our new neighborhood unsettling. like its probably because i got so attached to our old house that we lived in for nine years but i dont know. the place we moved to is a location that i used to spend some time in when we first moved to korea but i literally havent been here in nine years as mentioned earlier, and i am slowly piecing my memories of the geography as well as blending it with the incredibly limited knowledge i have of the nearby surroundings that i built riding the bus and when i was learning to drive because the school that i went to is kind of near our new place. anyways to get back to the subject this new neighborhood is full of too many happy families with these little kids that run around with their sticky little fingers flailing around. like hello we are still in the middle of a global pandemic i swear to god parents of little kids will go loose their minds when their children get sick yet they let them just run around spreading their disgusting little disease to the rest of us. ugh i hate kids. but thats besides the point the reason i think the new neighborhood feels dystopian is because all of the families, children and the elders too (why are there so many elders like i dont hate them or anything most of them are fine but like where are they all coming from?) look so happy. where are the depressed high schoolers and burnt out college students? my brother and i dont seem to have any friends in this bitch. anyways so the sheer amount of happiness that seems to radiate around me reminds me of books and movies like the giver you know or like the uglies series where you start off in this utopian-esque world until you find out that it is actually fake. its unsettling.

okay now i am kind of tired good night. wait also the public transportation at our new place fucking sucks i know it’s pretty good by regular standards but i am used to subway stations, convenience stores, cafes and bus stops all being 30 seconds away from the entrance of my building. okay the bus stop took more like two minutes but whatever. and buses used to come every five minutes but now i have to walk at least ten minutes to the nearest subway station and the bus stops only have three buses and even those take so fucking long to arrive and they dont even arrive when they say they will they are always late which is why i end up fucking walking twenty minutes to the subway station because that way at least i can guarantee that i am not going to be completely late. unreliable ass buses.

fuck there’s a lot i dont like about my new neighborhood. oh wait we are also far from malls now i have to walk like half an hour to get to the nearest mall when at our old house i only had to walk ten minutes and the mall close to our new house is worse than the old one. this one’s movie theatre isnt even famous. but dont get me wrong i guess there are things i like about our new place like how you can call the elevator from inside the house or how there’s a gym and the fact that i now have ac in my room. i am just being a brat because i really loved our old house. it was perfect. even if i felt as though i was being burned alive during the summers sometimes. i also like my new blinds that let in light in the shape of constellations.

i dont currently have a desk in my room so i dont know what im going to do when school starts again in a few weeks i guess i’ll have to take my lecture on the floor or maybe on the kitchen table idk.

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ughthatimagineblog · 7 years

Text

i’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend

draco malfoy x reader | university!au

requested: Hey could I get a draco x reader au from his point of view where he meets her in uni and has a crush but tries to hide it? Maybe they become friends (he goes to her dance shows and orchestra performances and such) and he falls more and more until eventually he just blurts out that he's in love?

word count: 3614

warnings: abuse, draco being edgy, lucius malfoy, maybe ooc narcissa a lil bit (its been 5ever since i wrote anything even mentioning her)

a/n: this is an au soooo yeah idk how this went. i liked it. i added in extra plot to make it semi spicy. also if ur sensitive to abuse then pls go away no offense but youll be triggered and i dont want ppl to get upset so i warned u

She caught him. And he was trapped.

It was late winter. He was focused with school and everything was fairly easy. Platinum hairs like feathers ruffled in the cool wind under the hot sun and he took his time walking to his new class of the semester. He was majoring in Business and Biological Engineering. Nothing would distract him from that. He had a goal. Make his father proud.

Life had different plans. Of course Draco would fulfill his destiny of graduating in those majors, but not without a small distraction. Walking into one of the core classes he had this semester he saw her. At first it was a glance. She was beautiful. He lowered his head and took his seat a few rows behind her.

Class began not much longer and Draco could focus but hardly. He knew he shouldn’t have been distracted by some silly girl but this girl was far more than silly. He noted she had the class with a couple of her friends and he would hear her laugh often. Sometimes she would get called out by the professor and shyly quiet down, her face turning red. It made his heart beat. He found it strangely poetic to note he had one. For so long he had disregarded emotion and feelings. Now, he had a new start.

That ‘start’ began a year ago and life at university had grown on him. Nothing was to get in his way. He was a determined student who rarely spoke to people and when he did it was something snarky or completely neutral. The seas of his life were calm. They were fine. You were the storm on the horizon.

The first day with you

Draco could feel the sun and cool air on his skin as he crossed campus to his English class of the semester. He wanted to sneer. The sun was nothing but a large ball of gas and flame to him today. The sun was not supposed to be out. Just another class to pass and then we move on. He thought to himself, walking into the B Block building. He saw a few kids rush into the building before him and they held the door open for him.

He nodded a thanks, his mouth continuously in a tight line and continued to his classroom. It was fairly small. Only about twenty four students. He knew all of them from the past semester or the previous year. Taking a seat about halfway in between the front and back, he opened up his binder and notebook, waiting patiently for class to start. Of course that meant other people were talking in that time. It was the same chatter, Draco knew. About him.

“That’s Draco Malfoy.”

“I heard he didn’t need scholarships. His dad paid for his tuition.” “He’s creepy. I heard he never talks.”

“Really? I heard he’s mean.” “Probably, I mean how can you grow up with people like the Malfoy’s and not be rude.” “Malfoy? He’s a Malfoy?”

It was all the same and he had come to ignore it. It was best to go through school by himself than spend it with loads of friends. It was easier for him. If something were to disrupt that, he would be a goner. His grades would be a goner as well. His father would make him pay.

Class started not much but five minutes later and the professor began to introduce themself. “Hello, class. I am Professor Eva Beverly and I will be your advanced English Composition and Literature class. This class will be easy if you pay attention. One should always be prepared here and if not-” The professor was cut off by the door swinging open and a girl stumbling into the classroom. Your back was facing Draco, but he could hear you say ‘Thank you’ to an advisor in the hall. Once you turned around, his heart nearly dropped. You were stunning and suddenly, his facial expression was one of shock instead of mysterious resentment. “Miss Y/L/N. You are late.” The professor crossed her arms. “I know Professor Beverly, I couldn’t remember which block this class was on so I had to go back to the advisors. I reality I tried to get here five minutes early and-” “Take a seat.” “Yes, ma’am.” You had rambled. Draco, if it were anyone else, would have found it annoying. But it was you. ‘Miss Y/L/N’ If he could only learn your first name. He was in luck. Empty seats surrounded Draco and for once in his life, he thanked whoever would listen for being the kid not anyone would want to sit by. Of course anyone who had any sense that is. But this girl, Draco could see, did not as you chose the seat to his right, in the row in front of him. To your right, a blonde girl wearing a simple flannel was laughing and Draco took it that she was this new girls friend. He recognized the blonde from the beginning of the semester. The both of you were freshman. To his dismay, however, the blonde was also one of the girls whispering about him. He was a goner. No doubt she would tell his beautiful crush all about what a ‘creep’ he was. As Draco dwelled on this, he couldn’t help but how much less of a creep he would be. . . with you.

Four months spent with you.

Fortunate for Draco, the girl, who’s name he learned to be Morgan, had not spoken of him to you, which gave him the chance to speak with you. It was completely out of character, but he set limits for himself. He would not allow you to distract him. Too much. He was in for a disappointment. In a way, Draco was aware of this. In fact, he had been thinking about it on his walk to class that day. His walk, with you. “Do you have any clue the word count Professor Beverly wants to have for our essay this Friday?” You asked Draco. He shrugged slightly. “Shouldn’t be more than two pages or about nine hundred words.” He replied and you grunted, frustrated. “I was hoping it to be more.” He looked at you, a small smirk forming at his lips. He had learned a lot about you in the past month. Your favorite color, what music you liked. He knew of the latter by looking at your phone from his seat. When you used it in class it was to switch from Spotify to Pandora to the Music app and back and forth. You were quite indecisive with your taste and the connection in the class was spotty.

“What, like two thousand words?” Draco inquired. He also learned you were a performing arts major and loved literature as well. You actually were quite popular in the sense that you knew a lot of people and did a lot of things. You were in the theatre department, the University orchestra, a scout for the local charity and the choir. Right now, you had been stressed trying to balance school work with the outside activities. That upcoming weekend, Draco remembered you had both a choir concert and a charity event all in the same day. You also had three core classes out of four periods on four days of the week. He wished he could take some of the load off of your hands and it killed him that he couldn’t. You and Draco had been spending quite a lot of time together and you only started hearing the rumors about him a month after you were seen as friends. You didn’t believe them though. Draco had an intimidating look, but he was quite kind to you and had a fantastic sense of humor. You also found him extremely attractive. The past four months had been filled with you working around school and extracurriculars all with Draco’s help. He went home once a month but you would see him again the Monday following the weekend and he always helped you study. Eventually you moved to sit next to him rather than in front of him and you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at him every once in awhile. You and him did not compute well in your head though. There was something off about him. Something about his family seemed odd. He never spoke of his parents and when he did he used his father's first name but called his mother ‘mom’. You had asked if they were seperated but when he replied negative you left it alone. Unfortunately, this just added onto your worry.

On the other hand, Draco was also worrying about a similar issue. Over the four months his grades had went down by two points. He still had A’s but if there was something Lucius Malfoy didn’t notice, it would be how big of an arse he is. Draco couldn’t attend your events this weekend. And oh, how he wanted to more than anything. He had seen pictures of you at said events before. For the orchestra concert you wore a black dress that made you look stunning and at your last charity event, you wore a beautiful gown that made Draco want to kiss you right then and there. He wanted more than anything to see you look so magical in person, but this was his weekend trip home. He couldn’t miss it. Not on his father’s watch.

“So, can you make it?” You asked, knowing what the answer would most likely be. “No, I have to visit my father. He wants to make sure I’m doing well in school.” He wants to ask why my grades are still not as good as they used to be. He thought to himself. He subconsciously touched the unseen scars on his back from where his father had punished him many times before. “Ah, well tell your mother ‘hello’ for me. And be sure to give her this. It’s for Christmas. I am a few months late but it took me awhile to get ahold of it.” You smiled and handed him a small box you had quickly pulled from your bag. He opened the box to reveal a medium sized necklace with emerald gems. “Y/N. . . You really shouldn’t have.” Draco was speechless. It was beautiful. And for you to do that for his mother, it was baffling. He really liked you. “It’s alright, Draco. Let’s get to class.” You smiled, realizing you reached your classroom. You opened the door for him and you both entered, only for Draco to find it impossible to focus.

The ride home for Draco was impossible. He lived an hour and a half away and it was not long enough. He was only waiting for the dread of going home. Parking his car in the drive, he already saw his father in one of the windows. Checking the time, Draco saw it was six in the evening. Your concert had started and would end in thirty minutes and your charity event started at eight. He sighed, knowing he would be enduring a much worse night. Subconsciously, he clutched your present in his jacket pocket as he approached the front door, his suitcase in his other hand. His mother opened the door and he almost felt relieved, but the feeling quickly left him as he knew his father was still somewhere in the house. “Draco.” His mother smiled and pulled him in for a hug. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Mom.” He sighed in relief, wrapping his arm around her. “Come in, come in.” She ushered Draco into the house and he left his suitcase by the door, only to be greeted by his father. “Father.” Draco greeted. “Draco.” Lucius said, much less fond than his wife. “I understand that your grades are still not well. Is it still because of this girl?” Lucius asked coldly and Narcissa put a hand on her son. “Lucius, not now. He just got home.” She sighed and Lucius shot her a glare. “I will address whatever problems that need to be addressed. Draco?” He replied. “It’s not because of the girl.” He muttered, feeling small. “Is that so? You told your mother you met a girl about four or five months ago. When did your grades drop? Four or five months ago. Before then, nothing was wrong. Now you have some stupid girl around and suddenly your future is compromised.” Lucius spat and Draco felt his hand ball into a fist. “She’s absolutely not stupid.” Draco said, harshly. His father scoffed. “Oh really? Do you know where she lives? Do you even know if she has both parents? If she even has money?” Lucius scoffed and Draco aggressively stepped closer to his father. “She doesn’t have both parents at home but I’m twice the man you are so even I can look past something as petty as being against that.” Draco spat and was met with a sting on his cheek.

A sting, a gasp, a raised hand and the turn of a head.

The sting was delivered by his father's raised hand, causing Draco’s head to turn on impact and his mother to gasp and hurry to his side. Draco inhaled deeply, trying not to let the salt in his tears make his eyes go red. He turned away from his father to his mother. “Mom, Y/N gave this to me to give to you. She said it was for Christmas and it’s a little late and she’s sorry.” Draco calmly handed her the box. He turned to his father. “She also said to apologize for not getting anything for you because she doesn’t know much about you or your interests, but she says she promises to get you a gift for Christmas next time.” Draco said with a sour look. A tear dropped from his eye. “You don’t deserve anything she will ever give you.” Draco said, shaking with anger. His mother, behind him, had opened the gift from you and covered her mouth in shock. She saw the authenticity in the necklace and based on what Draco had told her about you, she knew that it must had cost you a fortune to afford that present for her. And here her husband was, insulting the girl who her son perfectly deserves, despite her social status. “Lucius.” She said with a tight lip. “What?” He snapped at her, his chin tilted high. “It’s not like he’s in love with the thing.” He spat and Draco balled his fists once more. “Actually. . .” Draco paused and looked at his crying mother. “I do.” She smiled. His father looked disgusted. “You what?” He asked. “I love her.” Draco confirmed and turned to the door. He grabbed his suitcase and pulled his mother close. “I’ll meet you every now and again, but I refuse to meet with him.” He whispered under his breath and pulled her in for a hug. He kissed her forehead before opening the door. “Where are you going?” Lucius asked, angrily. “A much better place to support the girl I love and I’m not coming back until you fix the way you see her.” He said harshly before slamming the door.

Draco stopped at a gas station half way back to Uni so he could change into a nice black shirt and some trousers. The argument at home only took thirty minutes so he was making good time. The only problem was traffic. When he did get to campus, however, he did memorize the building the event would be held in. He found a space to park and rushed in, catching the start just as the lights went down. There were a couple open seats in the back and he thought he spotted you towards the front but it was too dark to tell. He just waited patiently, not speaking to the others at his table.

A few people went on stage and spoke about helping children with cancer as well as a few other charities said people were helping. It wasn’t until a blonde woman on stage mentioned your charity that Draco really paid attention. “Now please welcome the founder for the Arts for Acknowledgment program, a program funded by donations here by students to fund educational programs and arts to acknowledge lost or underappreciated cultures, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And then a girl stood up in the crowd and Draco could no longer believe he had ever known you previous to that moment. You were stunning. He knew it was a black tie event, similar to a gala but you looked like royalty. Your hair was pinned back and your gown was a long and beautiful golden dress that had an off shoulder top but flared out to a large bottom.

And the way you walked so graceful onto the stage. The way you smiled to the crowd. He couldn’t help but snicker in contrast to the first day the two of you met. You clumsily falling into the classroom gave him the impression you would do poorly in heels. He was wrong. “Tonight, i would like to thank the help of my fellow classmates for supporting and donating as well as submitting suggestions and artwork. Thank you. I would like to thank my mother, for pushing me to pursue the goal of helping other people. By using my advantages to help those that had none. Thank you. I would love to thank my counselor who has helped me get through every anxiety attack or depressive episode I have had along the way. Really, without you I wouldn’t be as organized as I am with my life.” You laughed and Draco knew he was in love. He smiled. “And finally, I would like to thank my best friend, Draco Malfoy, who has been a silent push these past four months ton really put everything together. He has stayed up late countless nights with me to help put together final touches on payment plans, architectural deals or gallery organizations. Really, he should get some of the credit. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. Thank you.” Your words wavered in the last sentence and Draco’s world was paused. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. The words rang around his head like a pinball machine. Your voice wavered and it only happens when there was something behind your words you weren’t telling.

Draco felt an impulse and he decided to act upon it. “I am here.” He said as loudly as he could without yelling. Heads turned, yours being one of them. One of the women close to the stage looked appalled. “Young man! I don’t think-” “It’s alright.” You said, breathless yet a smile was glued to your face. The woman sat down with a huff and Draco made his way to the stage, his heart nearly exploding every step of the way. If he was wrong about this, he was about to embarrass himself in front of about, say, four hundred people or so.

He reached the mic and away from the mic, you spoke in a hushed tone. “I thought you were with your parents tonight.” He smirked. “You’re much better company.” He smiled and you mirrored his expression. “Ladies and gentlemen, this woman that stands before you is absolutely incredible. Yes, it’s true I stayed up countless nights to help, however, I barely deserve a mention. This project is hers and hers alone and to take any of the credit would be improper. How hard Y/N has had to work to get all of this done transcends me. But she has done it. For so many people. And she says she loves me for all I’ve done for her?” Draco spoke into the mic. “No. I love her for her generosity and all she’s done for you.” He stated, giving you a quick glance and noticed you were tearing up. He turned to you, but made sure the mic was able to pick up his words. “For me to let her go and be with someone else would break my heart.” His heartbeat accelerated. Little did he know, so did yours. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? You are incredibly intelligent and ambitious with amazing morals. You are kind, funny, and smart both book and street and I would love to make you mine.” Some noises of adoration were heard from the audience. This only egged Draco on. He got down on one knee. “I have had to keep these feelings inside for the past four months. But Y/L, I love you. Very much. Be mine?” He asked and you nodded. There were cheers from the crowd. You could barely hear them once Draco stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart was on fire. Once turned away, his arm did not leave your side.

You delivered the rest of your speech and the night concluded itself with food, music, and lots of talking. By the end of the night, Draco was walking you back inside your dorm after driving you home.

“I never knew.” You both ended up saying. You both laughed. “Neither did I.” You said, reaching your dorm door. “You looked stunning tonight.” Draco commented, cupping your face. “You look handsome yourself.” You replied before he kissed you once more. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow. . . Girlfriend.” Draco whispered after pulling away. You giggled and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.” You replied and left Draco’s ears ringing with the word. Boyfriend.

hope you enjoyed!

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader au #draco malfoy x reader au #harry potter imagines #fandom imagines #fandom #harry potter fandom #hp imagine #fanfiction

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blacksiren · 7 years

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21 Supernatural Imagines

ok, so, in honour of @teamfreewill-imagine‘s birthday i have written 21 imagines for her because last year she wrote me a 7-day smutathon and i figured i had to pay her back at some point... i wrote over 10,000 words in four days - these were meant to be less than 400 words each but the longest one ended up being 742. whoopsies...

happy birthday, abii!!! ♥

Below the cut: 21 Supernatural and Supernatural RPF imagines.

Warnings: fluff, mild pain, (idk each imagine title pretty much tells the story so you can work out what it entails)

1. Imagine Danneel crashing your panel at a convention.

“I can’t believe they told y’all that! I freaking hate them so much,” you laughed along with the audience.

The fan at the microphone had just told you that Jared and Jensen had spoken about you at their previous panel. They had apparently told the story of you having a little too much to drink at the annual Christmas meal in Texas and how you ran through a water fountain fully clothed and in high heels before jumping into a bush and having to be rescued.

“Ok, y’all have to bear in mind that this was my first cast party where I was of legal drinking age in the States. I’ve been allowed to drink in Europe for the past 5 years, and I’m legal in Vancouver, but this year I turned twenty-one so I was allowed to drink at the party in Texas for the first time and everyone knew that,” you started.

You paused, unsure how to tell this story without coming across as someone who didn’t know their limit when it came to alcohol.

“People were buying me drinks all night because it was the first time they legally could and I also bought a few rounds purely because it felt exciting to purchase alcohol in America. I’m a weirdo,” you laughed again to ease some tension you felt.

You put your head in your hands to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I’m telling this story!” you murmured.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to. I will!” you turned your head at the familiar sing-song voice as the crowd drowned out the end of Danneel’s sentence.

You saw her walking out with a microphone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

She smiled at you knowingly and handed you the bottle of water.

You thanked her, undoing the cap and taking a much needed sip.

“So, where shall I start?” Danneel asked, winking at you.

“Are you really going to do this to me?” you asked her, getting up from your stool so that you were both standing, and putting your bottle under the chair.

“Hell yeah!” she started, “Any chance I can get to tell the story of how an inebriated twenty-one-year-old ran through a water fountain fully clothed, jumped into a bush, and had to be rescued by an also-slightly-drunk ‘gargantuan moose man’,” she finished, quoting Misha’s term for Jared that seemed to have stuck.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” you mock-complained.

She slung her arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to her.

“That’s what fake moms are for!” she teased, the side of her head against your own.

“Okay let’s get this show over with,” you relented, accepting defeat and preparing to be humiliated.

2. Imagine being pregnant with Sam’s child.

You clutched the scan in your hands, your heart pounding in your chest as you heard the Impala pull into the motel parking lot.

You heard the doors slam and the muffled noise of voices coming through the walls.

You quickly tucked the scan into your pocket as the handle of the room opened and Dean entered, followed by Sam.

“Hey boys!” you sing-songed, both of them picking up on your odd behaviour and going to ask what was going on.

“Are you-” Dean started.

“Can I speak to Sam?” you interrupted, “Alone.”

Dean looked between you and Sam before turning and heading for the door he just came through.

“I’ll go get some dinner,” he murmured on the way out.

“Hey, what’s up?” Sam asked, moving towards you after the door had shut.

You lowered yourself onto the couch, careful of how you sat with the scan in your jeans pocket.

“I-” you started, your throat suddenly dry.

Sam sat next to you, putting a hand on your knee and looking at you, concerned.

You decided to pull out the scan instead, holding it face down and fiddling with the corners.

“What’s that?” he asked hesitantly.

You handed it over to him and he turned it over in his large hands.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, “I’m sorry. But… I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Baby, don’t apologise,” Sam whispered, holding your hands in his own and smiling big, “We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah. I guess we are,” you smiled back.

3. Imagine Jensen coming home drunk.

“Hellooooo?”

You heard the voice hollering from the bottom of the stairs as you sat in bed reading.

You put your book down on the bedside table when you saw your husband poke his head around the bedroom door.

“Hello, my love,” Jensen drawled.

“Well hello there,” you chuckled.

He slowly and unsteadily made his way to the foot of the bed, throwing himself down on top of the sheets.

“You’ve still got your shoes on!” you chastised, noticing his boots dangling off the edge of the bed.

He kicked them off without even responding.

“Better?” he looked up at you with hooded eyes.

“Better,” you confirmed.

Jensen kneeled on the bed, pulling at your legs until you were lying flat on the mattress before crawling over you.

He leant in to kiss you sloppily.

“You taste like alcohol,” you laughed, trying to push him away as his scruff tickled you, “Oh my god, Jensen, you stink! Have you been smoking?”

He rolled his lips together, avoiding your gaze.

“Take your clothes off,” you ordered, “Before you make our bed gross,” you added when you noticed Jensen’s eyebrows raise in expectation.

He hastily tried to get his clothes off and you laughed at the uncoordinated commotion.

“We are not, I repeat not, having sex tonight. I can see it in your eyes and the answer is no, Ackles,” you told him.

“Someone’s bossy tonight,” he grumbled, climbing into bed beside you in just his underwear, facing away from you.

“Jensen’s not going to feel too fresh in the morning,” you whispered, slinging your arm over his waist and fitting yourself against his back.

“Jensen will be fine,” he murmured, “This is all Nesnej.”

4. Imagine Ruby asking you out for drinks.

You made your way outside of the motel room to get some air. You always hated being cooped up when you were restless and you just needed to walk it off, burn some energy.

You spotted Dean and Ruby talking in the parking lot, you didn’t want to pry so you stayed hidden behind a truck.

“I remember what it’s like,” you overheard Ruby say to Dean.

“What what’s like?” he asked gruffly.

“Being human,” she responded, her voice laced with sadness.

You emerged from your lurking spot, feeling guilty for eavesdropping and not wanting to impose on the conversation any longer.

Dean saw you approaching and straightened up, putting on his bravado-big-brother stance.

“Hey,” you said as you got closer, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re fine,” Dean said, “I was just headed back in anyway, you coming?”

“I’m gonna stay out here a bit,” you told him, “I need to stretch my legs.”

He shot a warning look towards Ruby.

“You can trust her, Dean,” you told him, semi-annoyed at his inability to believe that Ruby was a good person.

He nodded slowly, making his way back towards the motel.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” you said to Ruby, “Wanna come?”

She didn’t respond but fell into step next to you when you turned and started moving away.

You walked for a couple of minutes in complete silence, side by side.

“I have a question,” Ruby asked, breaking the silence.

“Shoot,” you told her.

“Would you like to get a drink some time?” she asked boldly, no hesitation.

You let out a chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“How do you know I’m into girls?” you asked her.

“Please,” she drawled, “I have two eyes and half a brain.”

You laughed, “Okay, I guess I’m not very subtle.”

“About as subtle as that damn colt,” she teased.

You smiled and shook your head, thinking about your answer.

“So…” Ruby pressed.

You thought about it for a minute; thought about how your brothers would react, how they would tell you it’s a bad idea, how you shouldn’t get involved with a demon. And you knew all this anyway, you just couldn’t help falling for Ruby.

You felt helpless whenever you were around her, as if she had full control of your thoughts and emotions.

Of course, if you told her this she’d just respond with her same old line– ‘Uh, demon. Manipulative’s kind of in the job description.’

“Okay,” you admitted, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You caught the smile that crept onto her face that she instantly tried to hide.

“It’ll be fun,” you murmured, to yourself as much as to Ruby.

She shot you a knowing wink, “Damn straight, cherry pie.”

5. Imagine Jared taking you to a Cowboys game.

“Where are we going?” you asked for the fifth time that weekend.

It was your birthday weekend and so far Jared had taken you shopping to buy a present, to the cinema to see a movie, out to a fancy dinner, and to breakfast somewhere out of your home city.

“This one is the biggest surprise,” he confirmed, not giving anything away.

“So… where are we going?” you repeated, looking at him as his eyes focused on the road.

He chose not to respond, knowing that anything he said would get questioned further by your naturally nosey attitude.

“Fine,” you relented, putting your feet up on the dash board of his car and staring out the window and the road.

You drove for another twenty minutes until Jared spoke.

He handed you a blindfold, “Put this on.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m not wearing this.”

“Just…” he sighed, “Please. This is the last surprise. I have managed to keep this from you for the last few weeks so please, just put the blindfold on.”

You were taken aback by his pleading so you did as you were asked, curious but also not wanting to ruin Jared’s plans.

“Thank you,” he murmured, realising he may have been a little harsh.

“I feel ridiculous,” you told him, lightening the tension in the car, “You better not be planning on murdering me. Or if you are, at least take this blindfold off when you’re done – I don’t want to be found in this.”

He laughed and you smiled, turning to face him (or so you hoped).

“You’re pretty when you laugh,” you told him, grinning and trying to find his face with your fingers.

“You can’t even see me,” he told you, pushing your blindly groping hand away.

“I don’t need to. I just know,” you responded nonchalantly, facing the front again.

Another ten minutes passed before Jared pulled the car to a stop.

“You can’t take it off yet,” he ordered, and you heard the driver’s door shut.

“What-?” you were cut off as your door opened, “Is this one of your kinky games?”

Jared ignored you, lifting you down from the car easily and holding on to your hand as he shut the passenger door and locked the car.

“Now, just trust me,” he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Always.”

He leant down to kiss you chastely before beginning to walk you, holding you close to his side, still holding onto your hand as you brought your other hand up to cling onto his arm.

You could feel the presence of people around you but had no idea where you were or how many people were watching you walking around in a blindfold like an idiot.

Jared stopped you and you could feel him in front of you. You reached your hands out and placed them on his chest.

“Oh,” you said in mock-disappointment, “I thought you were going to be shirtless. I thought that was the surprise.”

He peeled the blindfold from your eyes and held your face in his large palms, leaning down to kiss you as your eyes adjusted to being in the light.

He stepped to the side of you so you could finally see where you had been brought to.

Right in front of you was the Dallas Cowboys football stadium and your jaw went slack in excitable shock.

“No,” you breathed, unable to believe that Jared had actually brought you to a football game.

“Yep,” he confirmed, laughing at your expression.

“You,” you started, leaning up to cup his face, “Are the best boyfriend in the world.”

You pulled him down into a kiss before Jared put his sunglasses on and you walked hand-in-hand into the stadium.

6. Imagine Genevieve throwing you a surprise party.

“Babe, have you seen my black heeled boots?” you shouted down the stairs of your house.

“Top shelf of the closet!” she yelled back.

“What would I do without you?” you muttered to yourself as you reached up to get your shoes.

You made your way downstairs, grabbing your clutch from the edge of the bed and hooking the thin chain over your shoulder.

You stopped in the doorway to the kitchen when you took in what your girlfriend was wearing.

Genevieve stood at the middle counter, her maroon dress swinging gently around her calves as she prepared something on the surfaces.

You crept up behind her, putting your arms around her waist and leaning your head on her shoulder.

“How did you even reach that top shelf to put my boots there?” you teased, “You’re so tiny.”

“Very funny,” she remarked, turning in your arms and leaning up to kiss you.

Gen took you by the hand and led you towards the garden.

“Where are we going?” you questioned inquisitively, laughing at her energy.

“I want to show you something quickly.”

“Babe, we’re going to be late. If I wanted to be late to dinner I’d have asked for some quick birthday sex before we left,” you joked, stopping on your back porch as Gen did.

You heard someone clear their throat and you looked out into the garden as a cacophony of voices hit you.

“Surprise!”

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “How did you-?”

You turned to Gen, a blush rising on your cheeks as shock filled your face.

“So we’re not going to dinner?” you assumed, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“No, we’re not. Is that okay?” she asked, concern in her eyes.

“That’s more than okay,” you assured her, kissing her firmly.

“I love you,” Gen murmured against your lips.

You leaned your forehead against hers, closing your eyes.

“I love you too,” you told her as your party guests began to sing happy birthday.

7. Imagine Sam and Dean rescuing you on a hunt.

You sat on the wet ground, cradling your left arm that was definitely broken at the wrist.

You could feel blood soaking your top as the fabric stuck to you.

“Fuck,” you muttered, looking around you and making out trees, and leaves, and plants.

No sign of getting any help soon.

You tried to get to your feet, momentarily forgetting the discomfort in your wrist and accidentally putting too much pressure on your left arm.

You screamed out in pain, falling back down and holding your arm tight to your chest.

“You fucking idiot,” you said to yourself loudly, frustrated at the situation, “You absolute fucking idiot! Who goes out at night alone, knowing the dangers in this world? You deserved to have this happen to you. You utter freaking moron!”

You heard footsteps approaching you suddenly and turned your head in the direction of them.

“Hello?” you called.

No response.

“Hello? Anyone there?” you said louder, “Oh god, please someone help me.”

Two tall figures appeared through the fog and you sighed in relief, forgetting that these people could be evil; they could not even be people for that matter.

Adrenaline-fuelled panic set in and you scuttled backwards on your bum, using your legs to push yourself away from the shapes approaching you.

“Hey,” one of them called softly, “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

They got closer and you could tell that they were human, or at least were in human form.

“Christo,” you whispered when they were near enough.

Both of the men frowned down at you.

“Are you a hunter?” the taller one asked.

“Yes… Are you?”

“Yeah. I’m Sam. This is Dean,” he replied, nodding in the direction of the other man.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, sighing at your situation.

“And you are?” Dean asked.

“In a lot of pain,” you responded, not wanting to give away your name to two strangers.

They relented, crouching down to inspect your injuries.

“Careful-” you hissed, as Dean took your wrist in his hands.

“Yeah, that’s broken,” he admitted.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” you mumbled under your breath, pulling your arm back from his hold.

Dean rolled his eyes at your ability to make jokes in pain. It was a hunter thing.

“We should get you outta here,” Dean said, straightening up.

You agreed, moving to get to your feet before you were suddenly lifted in the air.

“What the fuck?” you asked, struggling half-heartedly against Sam’s arms, wincing as you stretched the gash in your side.

“Stop wriggling,” he told you, his arms constricting around you easily, “We’ll move a lot quicker this way.”

You silently agreed, stilling in his arms and letting him carry you out of the woods, walking behind Dean.

“Onwards, trusty steed,” you teased, leaning into Sam’s embrace, secretly grateful to not have to walk.

You felt his chuckle against your head as you let these strangers lead you away.

8. Imagine babysitting the Padackles children.

You’d been living in Texas for a while now, doing the odd jobs around the town to earn your keep whilst searching for a more permanent job.

You were at the park one sunny Saturday afternoon, pinning up flyers to the notice board offering your services out as a nanny, dog walker, cleaner, tutor, carer, general helping hand. That was when you were spotted by Genevieve and Danneel out walking with the kids.

You recognised both of them but, out of politeness, you kept quiet, wanting to respect their privacy and appreciating that they were in public with their children.

You got into conversation with them both, the kids taking an immediate shine to you as they asked questions about your accent and if you liked football and what your favourite animal was.

You answered all of them with a smile and even took time to interact with the twins, their animated faces looking up at you from their stroller.

You never expected to bump into them again or even hear from them so you were extremely surprised when you got a text on Monday evening.

Hi, this is Danneel. We met in the park on Saturday? I hope you don’t mind that I took your number from the posters you were pinning up. I wondered if you’d be available to babysit for Gen and I on Saturday night? We’ve been looking for a sitter for a while and the kids haven’t really met anyone they liked but they all seemed besotted with you! I totally understand if 3 kids and 3 babies would be too much for you so I can try to find someone else to have the younger ones. Thanks, D x

You thought about your answer before typing out your reply, eager to have a job and earn some money but not wanting to come off as too forward.

Hi Danneel, hope you’re doing well. Of course I’d be happy to babysit for y’all. I’ve had lots of experience with babies and I absolutely adore them so I would be more than ok having all the kids if you feel like you can trust me with them all. Just let me know what time I’m needed and send me over an address and I’ll see you Saturday! x

You got the time confirmations and the address sent to you along with a final thank you.

At 6pm on Saturday you made your way over to the location that Danneel had sent you, pressing the buzzer on the gate and parking your car in the large driveway.

Danneel was waiting at the front door, smiling at you and welcoming you in.

“Your house is amazing,” you told her, looking around admirably.

“Thank you,” Danneel replied, “Gen is already here with the kids, why don’t you come on through and meet everyone.”

You walked into the living room and felt instantly intimidated by the four celebrities that surrounded you; Jensen, Jared, and Genevieve greeting you in turn as you stood by Danneel. Before you had a chance to react, you were met by three little people running to you to shout ‘hi’ in their excitable voices.

“Hey guys!” you said, matching their enthusiasm.

Danneel showed you around the house telling you that the twins were already asleep in bed and that she had left feeding instructions in case they woke up. She had made a note of all the contact numbers you might need, leaving you the piece of paper before Gen took over and explained what to do with her kids for bed time and, in Odette’s case, a bottle feed.

Gen handed Odette over to you and you held her on your hip, shushing and talking to her in a soothing voice as the three other kids stood by your legs to wave goodbye to their parents.

You closed the door behind them, locking it on precaution and walking further into the house as Tom, JJ, and Shep all dispersed to continue playing.

“Okay,” you muttered to the little girl fiddling with your hair in her little hands, “We totally got this.”

9. Imagine coming home to a cooked meal from Jared.

“Honey, I’m home!” you sang as you entered the front door to your house.

You dropped your keys down onto the table in the hallway, leaving your shoes against the wall and hanging your bag on the hook.

You made your way through the house, following the delicious smell that was wafting from the kitchen.

“Mmm, something smells good,” you remarked.

You turned into the kitchen, stopping when you saw your husband standing with his back to you, an apron tied around his waist.

You looked at the small table made up with a cloth, two chairs, candles, and a vase of flowers in the centre.

“What’s all this for?” you laughed softly.

Jared turned around, licking his lips, a wooden spoon in his hand.

“Come here,” he beckoned to you.

You walked over to him, stopping in front of him and looking up at him.

“Try this,” he said, offering you the spoon to test.

You moaned in satisfaction, closing your eyes as the flavours burst out across your tongue.

“That good?” Jared teased.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” you admitted, opening your eyes when you realised what you’d just said.

You could see Jared’s mouth constrict against a laugh before he allowed himself to guffaw.

“You heard me,” you said, styling out your blunder.

“Note taken,” Jared murmured, leaning his head to yours, his breath fanning over your face.

You closed the gap between your faces, kissing him softly.

“Let’s eat,” you told him, turning away and seating yourself at the table.

Jared laughed, “Make yourself comfy, madam,” he teased.

“Oui oui, monsieur,” you winked at him, prepared to enjoy this meal and whatever came after it.

10. Imagine Misha picking you up from University.

You sat in class, watching the clock hands moving ever so slowly, waiting until 4pm so you could be done with your last class and go home for winter break.

Finally, the time came and you ignored your teacher’s last comments, packing away your things and zipping up your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder.

You tucked your chair in and made your way out of the classroom, murmuring goodbye to some of your classmates who you hadn’t quite made friends with but you still felt the need to wish them happy holidays.

As you walked out of your building you noticed girls huddled in little groups, pointing and hushing with each other. You walked past them sceptically, stopping when you saw what all the commotion was about.

Leaning against the wall of a building, with his arms crossed and one leg propped up on the wall, was Misha.

Your face lit up and you ran towards him, throwing your arms around his neck as he stood properly to hug you.

“Well this is a nice welcome,” he laughed.

“What are you doing here?” you asked confusedly, stepping out of the embrace.

Girls walking past you all whispered to each other, recognising Misha and scuttling away nervously. You even spotted a few phones poised in what people thought was a casual attempt at getting photographic evidence of Misha Collins on their campus.

“Thought I’d pick up my favourite little sister and travel home with her for Christmas.”

“You’re coming home for Christmas?”

“No, I was just going to dump you on the doorstep of the house and steal your car to drive back to Vancouver in,” he said sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes at his classic humour.

“Are you feeling fit and stealthy, old man?” you teased him.

Misha pushed you away jokingly.

“I’ve got a lot of boxes to load into my car,” you clarified.

“I’ve been working out,” he said, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the gathering crowds.

“Have you now?” you laughed, “Well, my apartment is in the opposite direction to the one we’re walking in but if you’re feeling spritely we can take the long way around.”

“Okay, I haven’t been working out that much,” he said, letting go of you so that you could lead him the right way to your apartment.

“I can do a one-handed handstand though,” he told you, putting his hands in his pockets as you walked side by side.

“I saw your photo,” you admitted, looping your arm through his, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, squirt,” he echoed, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

11. Imagine moving in with Jensen and Jared in Vancouver.

The decision to move in with Jensen and Jared came after they found out that you’d been living in your trailer over breaks and days off.

You explained to them that you couldn’t afford a place of your own and, even if you could, you had no idea how long you were going to last on the show. You didn’t want to buy an apartment only to get killed off and then be tied down with property in Vancouver stopping you from applying for jobs elsewhere.

They both came to the decision that you could move in with them, having only just bought a three-bed apartment to share downtown.

You reluctantly agreed, grateful to not have to live in your trailer anymore and being more than willing to pay your share of rent.

You moved what little belongings you had with you into the apartment the following week.

After having lived with them for three months now, you were becoming accustomed to life with Jensen and Jared. At first things felt a little awkward, you moving in with your co-workers, but you soon adjusted and you were all more than comfortable around each other. Perhaps a little too comfortable.

You were in the kitchen making dinner for all of you, you had become the apartment chef, when Jensen walked through in his boxers.

“Dude!” you complained, raising your eyebrows at him incredulously as he reached for a beer out of the fridge, gesturing to his attire.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly, “Most girls your age would kill to see me like this!”

“Most girls my age see you as less of a ‘dad’ and more of a ‘daddy’,” you explained, turning back to the stove.

“Gross,” he remarked, leaving the kitchen.

“You’re the one walking round in your underwear!” you called after him.

The next day you were sat on the couch going over your lines when you noticed something sticking out from behind the couch cushion. You pulled out a pair of socks and shook your head, closing your script and walking down the hallway, standing in between the doors of Jensen and Jared’s opposite bedrooms.

“Okay, fess up,” you ordered, holding one sock in each hand and through each bedroom door so the boys could both see one, “Whose socks are these?”

Neither of them responded so you balled them up and chucked one at each of them, hitting Jensen in the head and Jared in the chest.

“We need some ground rules around here,” you grumbled, striding back into the living room.

A week later you came home from set later than the boys, only to find them both sat in their underwear on the couch, playing video games.

“Okay, that’s it,” you murmured under your breath, walking to your bedroom and depositing your things.

You got undressed and put your comfiest bra and panties on, going back out into the kitchen.

“I’m grabbing a beer, anyone want one?” you asked over your shoulder, seeing both Jensen and Jared raising a hand.

You took three beers from the fridge and handed them over to the boys from behind the couch, walking around to lay on the adjacent one.

“Dude!” Jensen parroted, finally noticing that you were in your underwear.

“God, put some clothes on!” Jared protested, closing his eyes and turning his head away from you.

“Keep your panties on,” you told them, “Please, because that is the only thing keeping me from seeing little Ackles and little Padalecki.”

“This isn’t weird for you?” Jensen asked, deliberately avoiding you with his gaze.

“It became ‘unweird’ when I got fed up of dealing with both your crap. We either all wear clothes around the house or we drop this double standard and grow up.”

“Shit, okay,” Jensen yielded, his hands up in surrender.

Jared took a long sip of his beer, placing it on a coaster on the table and finally looking you in the eyes, nodding.

“Deal,” you all said at once, settling into your respective couches.

12. Imagine Dean taking you for a test drive in Baby.

“Hard right! Hard on!” Dean shouted at you from the passenger seat.

You pulled the car to a stop, turning in your seat to look at him.

“If you want me to be able to drive this car properly, you have got to stop saying things like ‘hard on’,” you told him.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this,” Dean tried to say, his right hand out the window of the car holding on to the roof.

“Don’t you dare flake out on me now, Winchester,” you warned him, “I’m a good driver, I promise. I’m just not used to the left-hand drive thing.”

He nodded minutely.

“One more chance. You have one more chance to stay in the right hand lane or we’re swapping over.”

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on,” you murmured.

You put the car into first gear and started off smoothly, changing to second and third when necessary.

“It’s not like there’s anyone on this road anyway,” you muttered under your breath.

“That’s beside the point,” Dean reprimanded you, “You asked me to teach you how to drive an old, classic car, so you have to listen to my instructions.”

You set your jaw, never one to like being patronised.

The road opened up in front of you and you were moving comfortably in fifth gear.

You put your foot down on the accelerator, earning you a warning glance from Dean.

“It’s fine,” you told him, “Live a little, Winchester.”

The car got faster as you reached the top of the hill, you took your foot off of the accelerator and moved the gear stick into neutral, letting the car cruise downhill with your foot precautiously hovering over the brake.

You reached the bottom of the hill and prepared to hit the ascent, going into first gear and revving up the hill.

“Be careful with her!” Dean growled at you.

You made it to the top of the slope and went back to driving normally, leaving your formula one dreams behind you and carrying on sensibly.

“You told me you didn’t know how to drive stick,” Dean said, hiding his awe but narrowing his eyes at you once you’d settled back into a steady pace.

“I may have told a teensy-weensy lie,” you cringed, “I kinda just wanted to see how she ran. She’s got a nice engine”

“She sure has,” Dean bristled with pride.

“Let’s get this Baby home,” you murmured, setting off easily in the direction of the bunker.

Dean’s eyes never left you as he appreciated your comfort behind the wheel.

13. Imagine stargazing with Sam.

The sky overhead was a canvas of cosmic beauty; the bright white stars stood out against the velvety black sky.

This was the perks of working a case in the countryside, you figured.

You and Sam lay on a picnic blanket, pillows under your heads, and your hands so close you could feel the heat radiating off his palms.

“You see that one,” Sam said, breaking the silence and pointing directly above your field of vision, “That’s the Big Dipper. You see how the stars on the right cluster to make a quadrangle and then the ones on the left branch out of it?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “It kinda looks like a pan.”

“Exactly!” Sam exclaimed enthusiastically.

You looked up, admiring the stars and wishing you knew how to map them as well as Sam could.

“What’s that one?” you asked, tracing its shape with your finger, “It looks like a headless man running.”

Sam chuckled softly at your analogy.

“That’s Hercules,” he informed you, “You see that wisp of smoke in the middle?”

He waited for you to locate it and nod before continuing.

“That’s the Hercules Nebula.”

“There’s another one,” you spotted, pointing out another cotton-ball like cluster.

“That one’s the Andromeda Galaxy. It’s a part of the Andromeda constellation but I’m not as familiar with the shape of that one,” Sam confessed softly.

You turned your head to the side, watching him look up at the sky, his hair billowing out over his pillow and his eyes wide with wonder.

You loved seeing him like this; so free, so content, so happy.

You focused your attention back to the stars above you.

“I can’t believe we can see all of this without a telescope,” you remarked in awe.

“A galaxy two and a half million light-years away,” Sam confirmed, “All with your unaided eyes.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

Sam sighed his agreement.

“All the shit we see on a day to day basis and still, at the end of the day, the stars will come out and always look this beautiful,” you thought aloud.

Your hand moved closer to Sam’s in the middle of the blanket until your little fingers brushed together and he linked his pinkie with yours.

“And out of all the centuries, all the worlds, all the galaxies... I get to share all of this with you,” he murmured, squeezing your finger reassuringly.

“Us against the world,” you whispered, as you both continued to stare into the night sky.

14. Imagine clothes shopping with Ruby.

“I’m not coming out,” you protested through the fitting room.

“Babe,” she laughed, “I’m sure it looks great!”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, the mini skirt showing way too much leg than you were comfortable with and the top exposing your waist.

“Nuh-uh,” you objected, pulling at the clothes that Ruby had picked out for you.

“Either you come out or I come in,” she warned.

“Fine,” you grumbled, pulling back the door slightly and poking your head out.

“Out,” she ordered, beckoning you with a finger.

You stepped out tentatively, earning a low whistle from Ruby.

You fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms, putting your hands on your hips in a stubborn defiance.

“I’m not wearing this,” you told her plainly.

Ruby ignored your complaints, “Here, put this on.”

She chucked you a chunky sweater and you caught it one handed.

“That’s more like it,” you sighed, going into the cubicle to get changed.

“With the skirt!” Ruby called through the door.

“I hate you,” you muttered back.

Ruby just chuckled, finding way too much humour in your discomfort.

You took the top off, not that you could even be sure it was a top – the thing looked like it would fit a two-year-old, pulling the sweater over your head and exhaling with the relief of feeling more like yourself.

You walked back out, twirling for Ruby and placing one hand on your hip, popping it to the side in a mock-catwalk.

“Yes, girl! Work it,” she laughed, “This is a look.”

“I’m not so sure about the skirt,” you confessed, “I feel naked from the waist down.”

“That’s exactly why I like it,” she said, winking at you.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, picking up a top from the floor and throwing it at her in a weak frustration.

“Okay, we’re done here,” Ruby announced.

“I’m not buying this,” you said, gesturing to the skirt.

“No. You’re not,” she stated, “I am.”

You relented, walking back into the fitting room and getting out of the clothes.

“Wait!” Ruby called, her hand appearing over the top of the door, “Try this.”

You looked at the thin lacy material she was holding, a tiny, delicate bodysuit hanging off of the hanger.

“In your fucking dreams!” you exclaimed, fighting the laughter that came automatically and putting your own clothes back on.

“You're damn right,” she mumbled, taking the lingerie back and undoubtedly adding it to her checkout pile.

15. Imagine Dean comforting you after a nightmare.

You woke in a panic, your hair sticking to your neck with sweat and your heart racing.

You sat up in the queen bed, looking over to where Sam lay in the other bed and Dean was sprawled on the couch.

Dean lifted his head, catching your movement.

“You okay?” he asked, making out your shadow in the dark.

“Yeah,” you breathed, not trusting your voice enough to say anything else.

“Wanna talk?”

You didn’t answer, instead taking a deep breath to try to compose yourself.

Dean lay back down on the couch, turning over and pulling his blanket over himself.

You settled down into the mattress, closing your eyes to try and go back to sleep. Your brain had other ideas, however, filling your thoughts with the nightmare you had just had.

You shifted in the bed, trying not to make too much movement and disturb the others.

“Dean,” you finally hissed, “Dean, are you still awake?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Please,” was all you could manage to say, your voice cracking on the single syllable.

Dean was up in an instant, crossing the room and crouching by your bed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you’re safe. I promise,” he soothed, stroking your hair off your face and wiping the tears from your cheek.

He walked around the bed, climbing in the other side and putting his arm carefully around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“This okay?” he asked, his voice against your neck.

You nodded softly, sighing and letting your breathing even out.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you, you hear me? I won’t let anything get you,” he assured you.

You knew he was right; you knew he’d rather sacrifice himself than let anything bad happen to you.

But that’s what also worried you.

“I got you,” Dead murmured, kissing the top of your spine and nestling into the bed.

“We got each other,” you finished automatically, linking your fingers over his as his arm tightened around you, letting the warm comfort of Dean send you to sleep.

16. Imagine Danneel teaching you to cheerlead.

“This is ridiculous,” you groaned, bending over to lean your palms on your knees, taking deep, grounding breaths.

“Come on, you nearly had it!” Danneel exclaimed.

“You’re too preppy,” you complained, collecting your pompoms from where you’d dropped them on the floor.

“Just take each count of eight one-by-one,” she encouraged.

You took one last deep breath before standing up straight.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said determinedly.

Danneel moved to her phone and pressed play on the music, the tune ringing out on the Bluetooth speakers.

“A 5, 6, 7, 8,” Danneel counted you in, “And: skip skip, skip skip.”

You followed the instructions, counting in your head; skipping twice to the right and then the left, rolling your arms around twice in accompaniment.

“Single, single,” she called the next instruction out.

You skipped once to the right, throwing your left arm in the air and tilting your head right slightly. Then you skipped once once to the left, putting your right arm in the air and tilting your head left.

“Up and down,” Dannel reminded you as you kicked your right foot out in front of you, stepping forward into a lunge and lifting both pompom clad arms in the air.

“Spin, 2, 3, 4,” she called.

You span 360°, kicked your right leg to the side and put your right arm in the air before landing on your right leg and turning to face the right with your arms by your side.

“Contract, contract,” Danneel prompted you, as you rolled your body, your arms also rolling slightly with the movement.

You remembered to punch your arms out in front of you for the second contract, stepping back on your right foot so your feet were together and then back on the left so that your right foot was in front again.

“Good!” Danneel shouted proudly.

Your right hand trailed the pompom along your left arm and around your head, the left pompom getting held you your ear as you moved to face the other way and thrust your right hand in front of you.

“Jump, jump, jump, out.”

You jumped three times, landing with your legs open the fourth time, your arms both going up the first time, just the right, just the left, and both of them in to your chest on the final landing.

You bent your right knee in and then out, dropping your right arm and then bringing it back to your chest and doing the same with the left knee and arm as Danneel yelled, “In, out, in, out.”

You thrust your hips forward, Danneel’s voice in your head saying to ‘add some bounce’ into this move.

“And pivot,” she instructed.

You’d already dropped your hands as you bent at the waist, rotating your upper body in a half circle, your heels lifting and dropping.

“7 and 8,” you counted under your breath as you lifted and dropped your heels three times, bouncing your whole body.

“Woo! Your hair moved; that’s bonus points,” Danneel shouted.

You got through the rest of the routine; swaying and popping your hips, spinning your pompoms, raising your arms, and keeping up a cheery attitude throughout. Maintaining your smile proved to be the hardest part of all.

The entire routine only lasted about thirty-five seconds but, by the time you were done, your breath was coming out in short, sharp puffs.

“Yes!” Danneel exclaimed loudly, clapping her hands together and then lifting her arms above her head, “You did it!”

She pulled you into a hug and you panted in her arms, squeezing her tight in your euphoria.

“I can’t believe it,” you confessed, pulling back to see Danneel’s proud smile still in place.

“Next step: costume,” she sang, pulling a cheerleader’s mini skirt and crop top from her bag.

The pink and white material shimmered in her hands and you groaned when you saw the ribbons, white socks, white sneakers, and glitter that she also had in her bag.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, throwing your head back.

“A promise is a promise,” she insisted, passing you the costume and folding her arms.

You laughed, embarrassed, turning over the outfit in your hands.

“Go big or go home,” you muttered, admitting defeat and changing into the uniform.

17. Imagine Genevieve taking you horse riding.

“Okay,” Genevieve started, coming over to you with two riding hats in her hand, “You’re riding Doodles and I’m on Caspian. They’re both really good horses.”

You nodded, taking the hat she handed you and putting it on.

“Do you know the way we’re going?” you asked her.

“Sweetie, I’ve been riding this trail since I was twelve, I could navigate it with my eyes closed.”

“Okay, show off,” you murmured, nudging her with your shoulder.

You turned to the sound of hooves, seeing two gorgeous horses being led towards you. As they got closer you noticed their extreme height and you raised an eyebrow at Gen.

“Can you even get up that high?” you teased.

“Oh, you just watch me,” she said confidently.

She strode over to the large brown horse, taking the reins from the stable hand and pulling the stirrups down.

In one smooth motion Gen put both the reins in her left hand, sliding her left foot into the stirrup, bouncing three times and then jumping, swinging her right leg over the saddle and seating herself.

“Okay, pretty impressive,” you remarked, walking over to your horse.

You looked up into his dark eyes and ran a hand down his chestnut face, he lowered his head so that you could scratch between his ears and you chuckled softly.

“Hey, handsome,” you muttered, “Ready to ride?”

You took the reins in one hand like Gen had, stretching to put your foot in the stirrup and failing miserably.

You could hear her laughing and you shot her a look, opting instead to take up the offer of a leg up from the stable hand.

“I guess I’m a little out of practice, Lil Miss Yoga,” you said to her over your shoulder, placing your hands on the saddle, one on the pommel and the other on the cantle, lifting your left leg for the guy to hold on to.

On the count of three you jumped, the guy pushing your left leg up as you swung your right leg over the horse. You sat down softly and put both feet into the stirrups.

The stable hand checked your stirrups and saddles, making sure you and the horses were comfortable before sending you out.

“Enjoy your ride, y’all,” he called, as Gen set off in the direction of the trail and you settled into a steady walk behind her.

Five minutes in to the peaceful ride, Gen turned to you.

“How you doing?” she asked.

“Pretty good,” you admitted, running a hand down the neck of Doodles, “He was a little tense at first but I think he’s relaxing now.”

“Get up here,” Gen motioned to you, turning to face the front again.

You clicked Doodles on until he and Caspian were walking side by side.

“They’re both OTTBs,” Gen stated intelligently, “’Off-track-thoroughbreds’. They feel like they’re in competition with the horse in front if they’re not in the lead. It helps to have them walking at the same pace so they know this isn’t a race.”

You nodded in understanding, scratching Doodles’ withers underneath you.

“This place is beautiful,” you murmured in awe.

“Yeah, welcome to Idaho,” Gen said, smiling across at you.

Caspian snorted softly and you laughed.

“I guess that was him saying ‘welcome’,” Gen chuckled.

“Thanks, buddy,” you told the horse.

“Ready to pick up the pace?” Gen asked you, shortening her reins and preparing to go faster.

“Sure,” you replied, copying her movements.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she ordered as you both asked for trot and moved deeper into the trail.

18. Imagine JJ asking to have a sleepover with you and Jensen.

You had just finished dinner with Jensen and his four-year-old daughter, you stood to collect the plates from the table. Jensen, as always, telling you that you didn’t need to help tidy away and you insisting that it was the least you could do after he had cooked dinner.

You walked into the kitchen with the plates, scraping any food waste into the compost bin and placing the dirty dishes and silverware in the dishwasher.

You could hear Jensen and JJ talking in hushed voices and you smiled when you heard them laughing together.

You decided to give them a little longer alone, taking a cloth and some antibacterial spray and wiping down the surfaces.

You put the cleaning stuff away and went through to the dining room, sitting back in your chair and smiling at a giggling JJ, her hands clasped over her mouth.

“What’re you up to, monkey?” you whispered, leaning closer to her and bopping her on the nose with your index finger.

She shook her head, not giving the game away, and you sat upright in your seat.

“Who wants dessert?” you asked, your eyes wide with overexcitement.

“JJ wants to ask you something first,” Jensen said, smiling at you kindly.

“Oh really?” you said, smiling back before looking at JJ again.

“Nuh-uh!” she protested, “Daddy does.”

“I’m not asking, Justice Jay,” he said, laughing as she ran over to his chair at the table.

He lifted her up onto his lap and whispered something in her ear that you didn’t catch.

“Y’all are freaking me out,” you said, your eyes flitting between Jensen’s and JJ’s.

“Will you have a sleepover?” JJ asked, so quietly that you were sure you’d misheard her.

You frowned in confusion.

“I don’t think she heard you, babygirl,” Jensen encouraged his daughter.

“Will you please have a sleepover with us?” she repeated, louder this time.

You gave a puzzled look towards Jensen and he nodded his approval to you. You looked at JJ’s hopeful little face and knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no even if you tried.

“Of course, princess!” you said sweetly, “I’d love to have a sleepover with you.”

“And daddy, too,” she emphasised knowingly; too knowingly for a kid her age.

“Only if we can paint his nails,” you whispered teasingly, pretending that Jensen couldn’t hear you.

“And do make up!” JJ exclaimed, running off of her dad’s lap to grab your hand and pull you up from the table.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you assured her, getting up from the table and placing a kiss to Jensen’s cheek as you left the room to prepare your sleepover.

19. Imagine Misha coming into your work.

You stood by the coffee machine, making three flat whites since you were the only person in the store who knew how to.

It was a busy day in the shop and you were already tired after half of your eight-hour shift.

You took each coffee over to the correct customer tables, smiling politely and clearing away a few empty mugs and plates on your way back to the counter.

"Need you on tills, please," your manager said to you as she passed you on the floor.

"Sure," you muttered, just wanting the day to end.

You got to the till and asked the next customer for their order, looking up at their face but not registering anything.

"I'll have an Americano please," a familiar voice said.

"Is that all?" you asked, ringing up the coffee.

"What do you recommend?" the man asked you and that's when you finally realised why you recognised the voice.

Misha Collins stood the other side of the counter from you, ordering his coffee from you, and asking you what he should order.

“Sweet or savoury?” you questioned.

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, “Sweet I think.”

"Okay, well the brownies are really good, and a customer favourite," you said honestly, "But I always prefer a flapjack."

"I'll take one of each, then," he said, getting his wallet out of his jeans pocket.

You smiled, "Eat in or to go?"

"Eat in, please."

You plated up the brownie and the flapjack, surprised at how casually you were handling this situation. You and everyone else in the café.

You told Misha his total and he handed over way more money than necessary.

You looked at what change he was owed and started counting it out when he interrupted you.

"Don't worry about that," he winked, "Add it to your tip jar."

"Are you sure?" you asked incredulously, a good wad of cash in your hand.

“Absolutely,” he confirmed.

“Thank you. So much. I’ll bring your drink over as soon as its ready.”

You handed over his receipt with a smile.

No one was behind him so you watched to see where he sat and set about making his coffee. You put it on a tray with a small jug of milk and some sugar before making your way over to his table.

“One Americano,” you announced, placing it down in front of him along with the extras, “Anything else I can get you?”

You noticed him cover up the paper he was reading from, probably an episode script, before he smiled up at you.

“No, thank you,” he said, “These are delicious, by the way,” he added, motioning to the half-eaten treats in front of him.

“I’ll be sure to pass on your review,” you joked.

Your focus never left his table as your shift went on and on. He sat, and he read, and he ordered more coffees (which you didn’t charge him for seeing as he had given you more than three times the right amount of money).

You never let on that you knew who he was, respecting his privacy and also not quite fully believing the situation anyway.

When your shift was over you went to change out of your apron, hanging it up in the back room and grabbing your bag.

“See ya,” you called to your manager on the way out the door.

You glanced at Misha’s table and noticed that he’d already left, sighing at the fact that you’d missed saying goodbye to him. Or maybe he was never really there.

You stepped outside the shop, the crisp air hitting you in the face as well as the sight of Misha standing against the side of the building.

You smiled goodbye to him as you headed home but he pushed off from the wall, walking over to you and smiling.

“I’m really sorry if this is weird for you, but I’m new to this area. I’m only visiting but I have absolutely no idea what to do or where to visit,” he rambled.

“Well, lucky for you, my shift just ended,” you told him, “Need a tour guide?”

“That would be great, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m Misha, by the way.”

“I know,” you laughed softly, “I didn’t want to say anything; make it weird.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, “For being cool and for showing me around.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “Next stop: somewhere totally uninteresting and non-picturesque.”

20. Imagine watching Supernatural with Genevieve and Danneel.

“Have you got the ice cream?” you called through to the living room from the kitchen.

“Do you even know me?” Danneel shouted back.

You walked into the living room to see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, a tub of ice cream in her lap and three spoons in her hand.

She held one out to you and you took it as you sat next to her, curling your legs up under yourself.

“Gen, get your butt in here!” you shouted.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Gen replied, “I just got off the phone with Jared, the kids are all asleep and everything is okay.”

“Of course it is,” Danneel said simply, “We have the night off, you can relax now,” she added, passing her a spoon.

Gen took it from her as she flung herself down on the couch next to you and you all shifted closer, pulling one blanket over all three of your legs.

“I’m ready,” you insisted, as Danneel handed you the ice cream, pressing play on the remote.

The opening sequence started up and you removed the lid from the tub, taking the first spoonful of ice cream.

“Oh my God,” you breathed as a familiar face appeared on screen, “Why is JDM naked?”

You were, of course, referencing Jeff’s lack of facial hair, and both Genevieve and Danneel laughed softly.

You watched the opening sequence play out in silence, not being surprised when it got to Mary’s death scene since you already knew that was where things were going.

The title sequence flashed up noiselessly and you chuckled.

“What?” Danneel asked, turning to look at you.

“That was slightly less obnoxious than some of the title sequences they’ve had,” you explained.

Danneel and Gen huffed a laugh, leaning over you at the same time to get some ice cream.

You burst out laughing when the next recognisable face popped up – Jared.

“Stop,” Gen chastised jokingly, giggling herself.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “He looks… handsome.”

It was Danneel’s turn to chuckle then taking a big spoonful of ice cream.

“He looks like a twelve-year-old,” she said plainly.

All three of you laughed at that, continuing to watch the show.

The next two scenes played out as you all sat contently, eating your ice cream and making the odd sound effect here and there.

“I’d recognise that chiselled jawline anywhere,” you exclaimed, noticing the shadowy outline of Jensen.

Sam/Jared grabbed Dean/Jensen and they began a choreographed struggle.

“Damn, those fight moves,” you murmured sarcastically.

“The budget was low for the pilot,” Gen joked.

“And neither of them knew what they were doing,” Danneel added, in all seriousness.

You nudged Danneel in the ribs with your elbow as Jensen’s face came into the shot.

“I’d tap that,” Danneel muttered.

“Ew!” you complained, shaking your head to erase the thought.

You finished up the pilot a load more remarks and a whole tub of ice cream later, pausing before the next episode started.

“So, what did you think?” Danneel asked you.

“I think that you and Gen married people who are like cheese,” they both frowned at you confusedly, “They get better with age,” you explained.

All three of you were laughing as the next episode began.

21. Imagine surprising Jared on stage at a convention.

You’d been working on a movie up in LA for the last three months and you hadn’t seen Jared since your last day on set, the last night you spent with him in Vancouver.

You’d started seeing each other almost as soon as you began filming on Supernatural, quickly striking up a relationship that neither of you knew where was headed.

Trailer sex turned into sleepovers, sleepovers into weekend stays, and weekend stays into actual dates.

The night you left for LA, Jared was upset, he pleaded you to stay but you told him you were never going to be the girl who gave up her career for a guy. He wasn’t mad and he eventually let you go, you Skyped him often and you still felt a connection to him.

You decided to surprise him seeing as he was doing a convention in Vegas; driving up after filming on Friday night, catching a couple hours of sleep at a nearby hotel, and making it in time for his Saturday morning panel.

You found Rob and Rich backstage, both of them shocked to see you.

“What are you doing here, California?” Rob exclaimed teasingly, pulling you into a hug.

“I came to surprise Jared,” you told them, blushing slightly as you stepped back.

“Well get up there!” Rich encouraged.

“What? No! I was just going to greet him when he came off!”

“The fans will love it!” Rob pressed.

“Look at me! I’ve driven five hours through the night and only got a two-hour power nap in the hotel! I’ve got my glasses on and I’m wearing jeans and a sweater. I’m pretty sure I’ve still got yesterday’s filming makeup on and I haven’t showered for a disgustingly long time. There’s no way I can go out like this.”

As you finished your rant, Rob handed you a microphone. You looked at him fearfully.

“You have to do this,” he pleaded, “It will make Jared’s day.”

You couldn’t deny him that.

“Okay, but let me pick the right moment,” you requested.

Rob nodded.

“What’s the funniest thing that’s happened on set this season?” the fan at the microphone asked, Jared choking slightly on the sip of water he just took.

You planned your entrance based on this question. If Jared was going to say what you thought he was going to say, then this would be the perfect opportunity for you to make your surprise appearance.

You had entered the panel through the green room entrance, using your status and relations to get through the convention despite not being a scheduled guest.

Jared laughed to himself as he put the cap back on his bottle, placing it on the table beside his stool and adjusting himself to sit comfortably. Of course, in true Jared fashion, straddling the chair with his arms resting on the back of it that faced the audience.

“So, y’all know that we had a new recurring cast member join us this season,” he paused, waiting for the eruption of cheers to die down.

You nodded in the direction of Rob and climbed up onto the stage from behind.

“You did?” you asked into the microphone.

The audience went crazy, clapping and whooping as you made it further into the middle of the stage.

Jared’s face was a picture; he’d turned in his chair to the sound of your voice, his mouth opened in a small circle with the word ‘what’ still on his tongue.

It was as if he’d frozen, he was still in his chair as you reached him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

He got up then, propping his microphone on the chair and pulling you into a proper hug, leaning to whisper in your ear.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, “What even-?”

He couldn’t finish his sentence so you just whispered back, “Surprise!”

You pulled away from the hug, suddenly remembering the audience in front of you.

“Go on then, Jared. Tell everyone what the funniest moment on set was this season.” You teased for the benefit of the audience.

He groaned audibly, picking up his microphone and offering you the chair. You took it, considering the lack of sleep you’d had.

Jared stood behind you, one arm draping over your shoulders and across your chest, the other holding his microphone to his lips as he began to tell his story.

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