#sam(antha) asks

[landrywrites]

willing to write for

slashers ( & their actors )

, billy loomis

, stu macher

, ethan landry / jack champion

, tara carpeneter

, sam(antha) carpenter / loomis

, amber freeman / mikey madison

( + more, just ask )

miscellaneous

, thomas ( the maze runner ) & stiles ( teen wolf )

, spiderman ( any )

, dave / david lizewski ( kick ass )

, spencer reid ( criminal minds )

( + more to be added , ask for a character from any of these franchises )

posersays © landrywrites 2023

updated 07 / 26 / 23.

#landrywrites #posersays #slashers

[sam-and-buck]

do you have any idea when the next chapter of perfect landing will be up?? this slow burn is killing me and i need them to hurry up and get their shit together and kiss already!!!!!

I pinky promise I’m not keeping people on edge on purpose here! I’ll even tell you what the holdup is:

I’m an educator and we just started a hybrid in-person/online model after spending the whole school year on zoom. So I teach my in-person kids, then get an hour to go home, shove some food in my mouth, and set up, then teach the same material to the online kids. It’s been a BIG adjustment for me and my students, and I’m frustratingly exhausted at the end of every school day. I have almost no energy at the moment for the fun stuff, like writing.

I want to finish editing and I SWEAR it will happen as soon as I’m able! My goal is to finish next week, and I promise I’ll post it the nanosecond it’s ready!

It means a lot to me that so many people are excited to read it! Thank you for your kind message!

#tfatws #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam(antha) asks

[inkytsuki]

so whats ur oc sam(antha) like?

That honestly depends on what time of her life it is.

Samantha has been able to read minds since she was born, a gift that she inherited from her mother. She shares her mother's sensitivity and later on in life her proclivity towards over empathizing with others.

Sam was a relatively happy kid until she was around 7 years old, when her mother died. All the adults in her life told her that her mother died in a car accident, though she knew that wasnt the truth. Her mother was very tortured by her gift of telepathy and her tempestuous nature, and she ended up committing suicide.

This changed the way Sam saw the world. People lied for the sake of convenience and her father specifically lied as not to make himself seems as if he was failing as a husband and father. People tended to treat her as if she was naive and she used that to her advantage often as a child and teenager, always knowing the right things to say to get her way in any situation.

Particularly in her adolescent years, Sam is aggressive, spiteful and manipulative. She takes what she wants from people and doesnt seem to care how her actions affect others. Shes become completely jaded, having to listen to the shallow thoughts of others day in and out.

She loves Matt. Hes been in her life since her mother died, and hes her Favorite Person, and the one that she compares everyone else to in her mind. And even though she puts Matt up on a pedestal, she still treats him horribly. Constantly playing with his emotions, hurting him on purpose, and often treating him as if he were disposable.

When Matt leaves and cuts off all contact with her, shes in a constant state of rage. She doesnt really have any friends and spends a lot of her time alone. She ends up dating a guy named Adam, who somehow slips past her radar; hes horribly abusive to her and treats her terribly and it isnt long before Sam manages to learn that he and his family have mob connections. Adam is possessive and though he constantly tells Samantha how awful he thinks she is, he thinks he can "fix" her with repeated abuse.

She begins to break at this point. What a lot of people have percieved as heartlessness from her starts to show itself as desperation for any kind of love and acceptance.

She gets a lot better after an incident with Adam that leaves her in bad shape, but manages to get her in a position where she can be separated from him, though her own father is not supportive of that action and refuses to believe that his daughter is telling the truth.

As an adult, shes completely different than she was. Shes a lot calmer and kinder, and very anxious; shes afraid of everything she does being misconstrued or being accidentally abusive. Shes a wonderful mom, very supportive and loving of Ophelia.

She spends a lot of time alone after her and Matt finally separate and become just friends, coparenting. She has a lot of trust issues and shes also really still hung up on Matt, and cant seem to find someone who measures up in her head, but shes more than happy just being in Matt's life in any capacity.

Sorry that was so long

I just have a lot of feelings

#sam(antha) #long post #ask #kit chat #nonnie #suicide tw #abuse tw

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I'm Making A Weirdly Big Deal Out Of A Thing That I Think Is No Big Deal So Why Does It Have To Be Such A Big Deal, It's Honestly Not That Big Of A Deal, So Everyone Should Just Do What I Say Because Why Do They Care About This So Much Like It's Some Kind Of Big Deal, It's Functionally Meaningless, That's Why I Must Have My Way Or Else, Stop Overreacting!!!!!

Care And Feeding, Slate, 31 October 2021:

Dear Care and Feeding,

My tween has requested they/them pronouns and a new name. We are changing our habits on the pronouns, but we haven’t gone along with the name change. Though their first name is stereotypically feminine, we more often use the shorter stereotypically masculine form (think Samantha to Sam). Their middle name is gender ambiguous. These names were chosen with much love following a family/cultural naming tradition. While we are supportive of using any version of these given names to reflect our child’s gender, we aren’t on board with a name change. We will not call Sam(antha) Simon, Stevie or Susie. Is this so wrong?

—What’s in a Name?

Dear What's In A Name?

I can't think of any family tradition more important than making sure children know that they are beholden to the whims of their parents forever, and that they must never be allowed to assert themselves or self-advocate in any way that does not entirely comport with their parents' personal preferences. After all, it was your child's decision to be born to you personally, and now here they come tap-dancing into the world as a full-on independent human as if they didn't specifically ask Baby Jesus to assign them to you! They had every opportunity to choose to be born to any other family on earth, but they didn't, and so now they've thereby agreed to have every part of their identity dictated by you, indefinitely and without even the mildest opposition.

The last thing you want is your child growing up to be a self-assured, independent human who knows their own mind and can ensure that their needs are met on planet earth! That's not what parenting is all about! You lovingly gave them a name and you will lovingly use it at them no matter how much they hate it, lovingly!

Anyway, you said it yourself: what's in a name?? It's such a tiny, piddly thing — since it doesn't matter at all, and it's practically not even worth caring about not even a little bit, and it really is just wholly inconsequential, it's genuinely just downright silly that anyone cares all that much about what they're called, like truly, who could even be bothered? Not you, that's for sure! That's why you can only call your kid one of two names that you came up with a decade ago and nothing else ever no matter what!

What could be more loving than honoring your child's name and pronouns? Why, forcing your child to use the name you gave them because your personal preference is more important than your child having the core of their identity respected by the most important people in their life, of course! Nothing wrong with that! Stay strong in your convictions, and you will enjoy many great opportunities to call your child by the name you gave them in the coming years — to their voicemail, to their email "spam" folder, and in text messages to phone numbers they no longer use.

#parenting #transphobia #dead names #lgbtq #gender transition #gender #childrearing #bad advice #advice #slate #care and feeding #please don't do this to your children #genderqueer #enby #nonbinary #names #baby names

[bean-witch]

mountain girl!Winchesters

early seasons AU

inspired by @thegrassfairy , based on my experience in the Sierra Nevada and intermountain west

Lumberjack Grunge ™️ style

Sam(antha): Carhartt jacket, docs, faded Stanford tee, authentically ripped jeans, dark nail polish, long hair [“it’s gonna get pulled on hunts, Sammy”]

Dean(na): Leather jacket [no matter how cold, Sam always rolls her eyes], amulet, henley shirt, baggy jeans, undercut, bandanna on wrist, rings, dark eyelashes, biker boots

General Aesthetic (mountain-gothic)

- Abandoned cabins and churches off of overgrown paths

- It’s impossible to see through the snowy, foggy woods at night, even with a high beam flashlight

- Nothing makes a person feel as alive as a caffeine + adrenaline high and cold air burning their lungs

- Buying gemstones (for spell work) at the chokeberry harvest festival

- Mountain pass sunset drives to appreciate the autumnal colors and rosy hue against cool gray rock

- Saving dumb hikers and rich skiers from the elements and the supernatural in equal frequency

- They adopt a one-eyed St. Bernard dog who helps them track said victims and senses ghosts (they name her Indy after Indiana Jones, courtesy of Dean)

- Psychic shops, tattoo parlors, outdoorsman warehouses, and small diners visible from the highway

- Getting hit on by mountain men who think they’re 10x more macho than the standard midwestern man. Dean slashes the snow tires of anyone who so much as looks at her sister the wrong way

- Sam has a pink pocketknife because she deserves one. Dean carries brass iron knuckles for punching jerks and ghosts alike

- Sam can draw because I say so and there are two instances in canon. She sketches every peculiarly gnarled tree she comes across. There are multiple notebooks in her duffel filled with ballpoint pen drawings of strange plants.

- Dean owns a thrifted Vonnegut paperback and Sam still carries a copy of Half Blood Prince that she forgot to return to a library 50 miles north

- There’s now a Firewood axe and a Monster Killing axe. Don’t ask why.

#for my fellow mountain timers #do you pronounce the t in mountain? #moodboards and art coming soon! #I can have some projection. as a treat. #they’re also queer #girl!sam #girl!spn #mountain girl!winchesters

[choices-ethanramsey-4life]

Alone:

She woke up panting and gasping for breath she looks at her clock it was 3am. As she sat up she couldn't help but to think that the dream that she hadn't had in 15 years would come back to her causing her to remember her childhood. Samantha sat with her shaky hands in her head trying to believe she was in a better place in life.

"I can't do this again, But why now?"she questioned puzzled. She falls back into deep sleep until she was awaken by Jackie "Samantha will u get up already ur going to be late"!!!! She slowly made her way down as Elijah and Sienna looked at her, it was obvious that she didn't sleep at all that night. They assumed it was Samantha being her fell asleep while working at night.

As she walk to the entrance Bryce caught up calling out for Samantha breathless "SAMANTHA, HELLOO SAMANTHA WAIT FOR MEEEEE!!!!,Sam..antha...wait...for me" she was lost in her mind she didn't hear him.

As Bryce caught up he tapped her shoulder making her jump " oh god Bryce you scared me", he exclaims  "I was calling for you for the past 3 minutes,are you ok" she replies " sorry I didnt hear u, I'm ok I had a late night" she gets lost back into that thought. He wanted to reassure himself and asked her "are u sure are you still pissed at me because I said favourite thing was my reflection?"

There was no reply she goes in and starts her shift with tension visible on her face.

This is my new and first fanfic called Alone part 1 of 7 I hope you enjoy it and show 💕

#fanfic #writing #fiction #ethan ramsey #choice #ethan x mc #alone #choices open heart #open heart book 2 #open heart ethan #choices ethan ramsey

[fixedxpoint-archive]

Hey can you give me your opinions on littlesistersammy? And how should/could I approach her on rping with her? I'm kinda weary of her because her's is cosplay blog and that's a little weird and intimidating to approach.

;well hello my love! i have so many opinions on her but have no idea where to start! she is very kind, easy to talk to, a great roleplayer and cosplayer, as well as a good friend. even if she does take time to herself i do still think of her as a friend since we have known each other for awhile on here.

as for approaching her for roleplaying all i can say is take the time to send her an IM or an ask. don’t be afraid because she’s a cosplaying roleplayer. not only does that mean she roleplays as Sam(antha) Winchester but she loves the character enough to dress up as her! that is super cool and you know that she loves Sammy enough to do that. talk to littlesistersammy with respect, tell her that you’re interested in roleplaying with her, and plot away! just be an all around great human being and you’ll get the same treatment right back. just remember that people on here have lives or live in different time zones so don’t get mad if she doesn’t answer you right away.

i love you and good luck!!

#;inquiries answered #*go love Jess because she deserves it! #Anonymous

[littlesistersammy]

Hey! We’re back together on our annual trip up to snowbird. got any questions for us please run into our ask boxes.

@deannalovespie - Dean(na) @littlesistersammy - Sam(antha) @castielleangelofthelord - Castiel(le) @1stmelo - Addison (Adam) @femteamfreewill - our group ask blog.

#supernatural asks #supernatural #team free will

[umnachtung]

survey stealing prof at the lose again

questions taken from @in-love-with-a-trans-girl

A

Achievements: Got higher education, studied Game Design and graduated with very good results. Haven’t done a murder yet, that’s good, right?

Age: 28 goblin years

Are you planning something right now? planning a painting for my parent’s bed room, surviving the current pandemic. loosey gooesy planning on getting a job??

Arizona or Alaska: both got cool landscape. I’m probably more likely to enjoy Alaska climate tho.

B

Birthdate: 3rd of March, 1993

Build: average height, sturdy(?)

Babies, do you have any? Does my cat count?

Blonde or Brunette: I’m naturally blonde but dye my hair a lot. <- same

C

Childhood sweetheart: thats too straight for me.

Current mood: Okay? Trying to wake up properly still.

Children, are there more in your future? More cats, probably. And mind children, aka original characters for drawing and roleplaying. I don’t see myself as an actual parent.

Coke or Pepsi: neither. I don’t drink that.

D

Dad’s name: Andreas.

Dating anyone: Nay.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Not planning on but wouldn’t it be nice?!

Dogs or cats: cats. dogs are cute too, tho.

E

Elementary School: the start  of getting bullied

Eye color: Green <- same

Ever going to China? probably not.

Early or Late: Late.

F

First Crush: My BFF, I guess?

Fears: heights, phone calls and emails, embarrassing myself, failure, no progress and being stuck in life

Future goals: move out, get a job, and stop being so fuckin’ emo

Funny or Serious: Alas I am a clown.

G

Grandparent’s names: I don’t remember, but my dad’s mom was refered to as Oma Katze.

GPA: 2,4 in Abitur, but who cares? it’s a freakin number.

Going anywhere this weekend?  Maybe to a friend’s place to give her something.

Giver or Taker: Both. Life has to be balanced. <- agreed

H

High School: Lord have Mercy and Jesus take the Wheel.

Hair color: dark red, done with henna.

Hate anyone for life? Anyone who hurt and wronged my friends.

Hairspray or Gel: Pomade because I’m a 50s rocknroll boy.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Selena and Abelina

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes?

Is there anything you wanna share? I would love to share rich people’s money with the rest of the world.

Ice Cream or Cake: Cake.

J

Jumped rope for fun: As a kid, yes. IDK if I still know how to do it.

Junk around you right now? The usual desk clutter, also my trash bin?

Joining anything anytime soon? Not that I am aware of.

January or July: January if there is proper snow. July if it is not too hot.

K

Killed anyone: Only with my killer jokes.

Keeping a secret? Ain’t we all?

Kicking someone off your top friends today? What is this? a USA High School Drama?

Kiwi or Apple: Kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: Not really. My cat was probably the closest thing dear to me that I ever lost. R.I.P. Kaveri <3 <- same, RIP Nera

Last kiss, when and who: IDFK. It’s been 87 years

List 3 people that you’ll love forever: Nicole, Rhoda, Abelina I supposeee? 3 is not enough lmao.

Lover or Fighter: I will kick your ass, I will kick my own ass.

M

Middle School: Jesus took the Wheel.

Marital Status: None of your business.

Mom’s name: Allexandra

Music or TV: Music, what is this the early 2000s?

N

Northernmost state you’ve been to: Ostsee/ Nordsee. :,D

Nickname: Toni, Prof

Name your future boy and girl: Felix or Caspar, Sam(antha) or Artemis(?)

Naughty or Nice: Bastard wi th a cause.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn’t yours? Yeah, but it’s usually like, advertisment stuff for my parents and nothing personal.

Occupation: disgusting unemployed parasite who doesnt contribute to society and capitalism, aka artist.

Owe anyone money: Don’t believe so.

Outgoing or Shy: Depends on the person.

P

Place you most want to be? Anywhere in nature, away from the city. Preferable near water.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? Waste of time and energy tbh.

Planning a major trip? Nope. It’s pandemic time, baby.

Pink or Black? Black. <- same

Q

Quit a class: Does only showing up to the final exam count?

Quickly…the first word to come to mind: Help

Quitting your job soon? No job to quit here.

Quiet or Loud: Quiet. <- yas, queen

R

Riding in an airplane: Annoying as fuck. There is nothing to do and you cant really get up and moving.

Ride, tell me about yours: public transport is my steed.

Running for any political office in the future? Running them over with my public transport steed.

Rain or Snow: Snow. <- heck yay

S

Siblings names and ages: Mona, 29

Shoe size: EU 39 <- same

Shave daily? nope.

Shower or Bath: Bath, can’t really shower comfortable in the bathroom here.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): I don’t even remember that year.

Texas, ever been? No, not interested tbh.

Think you’ll live to be 100? no.

Tame or Wild: Depends on who you ask.

U

Unique quality about you: Uhhhhhh....idk.

Underwear on? Yeah, it’s too cold to go comando.

Under your bed lies: A portion of my room.

Under or Over: I take the ground below you.

V

Virgin? Protip: stay one so you have access to virgin blood for your rituals.

Vacation time left? lol

Voting in the next Presidential election? No president where I live. <- same but gonna vote in the next election

Volleyball or Swimming: Swimming!!!! <3 <3 <- same, let me live my wet dreams

W

Went white water rafting? That looks dangerous.

Wearing right now: PJs, pink-green striped t shirt and green flower pattern lounge pants

Write a sentence about you: Toni transports thousands of trolls through the training track.

West Coast or East Coast: Weizentoast.

X

X-Rays in the past month: I think my jaw at the dentist?

X-Mas plans: NO, ITS TO EARLY: PLEASE STOP.

X, does it mark the spot? On Maps probably.

X-Tina or Britney? Christina has better songs imo. Wish Britney could do what she wanted in life tho.

Y

You lost “it” when? I am about to fuckin’ lose it every second now. 

Your favorite song: Tool - Parabola

Your favorite place on Earth: Not been to enough places yet.

Yes or No: No.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Zippos are neat, agree? Yes.

Zoo or Circus: Zoo.

#survey

[jpegcompressor]

hey king thanks for fixing the ask box. my question is whats your ocs favorite food. and what is yours?

mine is chicken and waffles! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE??? /lh

beach: kelp and seasoned tofu merwyn: brioche bread, fresh-cut tomato, deli bacon, homegrown lettuce. sauteed. newt: if you don’t think they eat flowers and like it you’re wrong. their favorite woodland snack is sorrel, but they also like pastries. andrew: in a non-medieval universe he likes to eat mac and cheese, in a medieval universe it’s basically anything roasted oakley: deer, preferably recently killed, but you know he’s immune to getting sick from eating decaying things so u kno fortune: doesn’t eat but if he did it would be probably just like. bacon with powdered sugar spruce: grilled cheese, specifically cheddar on sourdough angel: hot cheetos with sriracha cupid: creme brulee (can’t put a lil accent bc i’m on desktop so just imagine it) sky: cookies and creme ice cream cat: barbecue chip sandwich, cat has seen god buddy: chicken curry! teddy: just like... sliced cheese (frantically sorts toyhouse, trying to remember all of my ocs) darling: homemade churros james: ramen jesse: sunflower seeds ross: any combination of cheese and bread, this man eats like a ship rat hugo: steak fries and a milkshake sam/antha: munchies mark: ab+ sally: she can’t eat, so her favorite thing is canel’s chewing gum! mary: meat. lori: cotton candy mire: t̸͚̜̱͇̺̗̍͑̋̅͂͌̍h̻̙̱̺̽͋͂̚eͮ̄̆͊ͤ̽̊ ͓͇̥̗̟͊ͮͥ̐ͩs̞̥͙͔͙̝̤̓̇̍̇͋ͮ͗͠ó̭̝̰̯ú̞̮l̢͙̦̖͙̈́̋͑̈́ͣs̵̭̖̗͖͔̦͎̈̋̈̂̎ͮ̚ ͩ͋͌o͈̙͎̩̬ͯ̄̒́̃̄f̖̳̥͍̥ ̌̍̒ͫ͂ţ͐̒̒h̡̟̱̯̹̊ͅe̷̻̦̝͗͊̾́̽͑̿ ͬ̓̉̏ͧ̿d̸̩͗ͫ͗a̱̠̜̞̿ͥ͐͒̎͒m̰̞̤̟̻͑n̎̄ͪͨ͏̠͎̲͖e̵̍ḍ͎̬ͬ̃̿̋̄ perseus argo galileo: he doesn’t eat but he likes how pancakes smell! cassiopeia: stewdles eli and toby aren’t on here because they’re dead to me

#cw food #food #gross #cw gross #tagging for oakley and mark's responses JGJGDF #wildleyriley #also for the two (2) people who know what i'm talking about when i say 2112 #2112 characters are mentioned in this if u wanna unroll it just for them

[sam-and-buck]

Hiiii, sorry I probably spammed your notifications with lots of likes the other day (and tonight) but I reaaally love your blog and your sambucky tag 💛 I’m definitely very late to the party but I wanted to share my own crazy vision for Cap 4 if that’s okay? 🥺💛

The movie could start with them living together in an apartment in Louisiana, Bucky gets home and gives Sam the mail he just collected, you know, just normal stuff. Then Buck asks “Where’s Alpine?” (because apparently Bucky has a cat in the comics??? I need this) and they start to argue because Sam doesn’t look after their cat (which he still says it’s just Bucky’s cat) and because Bucky worries too much. You know, some cute banter, then some *plot* happens and they have to go on a mission and they leave Alpine with Sarah and the kids and then again, plot, we get to the point where they’re in the middle of the mission, in a helicopter with Peter Parker (I’d love to see them teaming up together once!) and Bucky is just so worried because they’ve been away for so long and what if Alpine needs them? And then Peter asks: “Who’s Alpine?? You guys have a son?” and Bucky says yes while Sam says no, quickly specifying that Alpine’s their cat when Bucky shoots him a death glare (finally admitting Alpine’s *their* cat) and I can totally see them arguing while jumping out of the helicopter and then Bucky gets shot and Sam’s all worried and telling him to hold on because Alpine needs them both and ya know, some romantic stares here and there and this is getting so long I’m so sorry 😂 I just got carried away, ops. Anyway, this was just some crazy daydreaming but I love daydreaming about sambucky 💛 I’ll shut up now, sorry ahah

As a cat rescuer AND Peter Parker fan, I cannot adequately describe how much approve of this idea.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #sambucky #winterfalcon #tfatws spoilers #captain america 4 #sam(antha) asks

[inkytsuki]

😳😳 goddamn hard shit. what did u leave out if u dont mind me asking? she sounds like a very developed character and im happy for her that she gets better and is happy eventually even if she cant be with matt (why not btw? just isnt there?)

She is a very developed character! She’s one of me and @arolinecay ‘s older OCs.

She and Matt don’t end up together for a variety of reasons. The biggest reason being that Matt is very gay. Their relationship does cross that boundary, simply because the two of them are so incredibly close, and have been for a long time. Intimacy between the two of them is natural and not forced at all, so much so that Matt does think that he’s bi for a while, before trying to sleep with women in college, only to find out he is most definitely gay.

The second reason being that they both need very different things emotionally from a romantic relationship, and though they are able to provide what the other needs maybe a little past friendship, they just aren’t the best fit for one another. Sam definitely has intense emotions for Matt, but Matt just doesn’t share them at the same intensity at all, and Sam is completely aware of this, but she is absolutely willing to settle for the way he feels, as long as she’s with him, they both know that it isn’t healthy and that they are better off looking for what they need in different partners.

But they remain close and live close to one another. They have a very strong friendship.

But as for things I left out, Samantha does end up getting diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder after Adam nearly kills her, and she ends up having to have reconstructive surgery, which ends up leaving a permanent scar on one side of her face, and she ends up going to therapy, and learns how to interact with people more healthily; though this does not completely repair her relationship with her father, it makes it more bearable.

Her and Matt talk but don’t see one another for a while, until the end up meeting up with their mutual friend Silas and Matt’s stepbrother, Jeremiah (who sam also grew up with)

Sam has made a ton of progress by the time this comes around, finally having her own sense of stability. Living without a roommate or her dad, and working as a Psychic out of her own apartment, using her telepathic abilities to try to help the people who come to see her either find some closure or guidance, something that she was inspired to do after her therapist that worked with her after her BPD diagnosis completely changed her life.

Her and Matt end up hooking up on this visit, and are nearly as inseparable as they used to be while he’s there in town. And that’s when Lia comes into existence lmao.

#sam(antha) #asks #kit chat #nonnie #abuse tw #suicide tw

[raspberrytummytickles]

Just Wanna Make You Smile

Title: Just Wanna Make You Smile Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Sam, Dean Summary: Ticklish!Sam, Ticklish!Dean; Sam goes through Dean’s things without permission and finds something out his big brother is ticklish. Unfortunately, so is he.

Original Prompt: Sam finds a picture in Dean's wallet, while going through his stuff without his permission, of him and John when Dean was 3 or 4, John is holding Dean in it and Dean is laughing, Sam asks what's going on in the photo, Dean has to explain... tickling ensues, revenge for going through Dean's stuff is possible?

A/N: This is number 2 of the prompts Anon sent!! I like this prompt just because it sounds so cute <3 So imma set this in Season 1 just because I feel like Sam would like to prank Deanie and walla! Rest of prompt....

Sam waited for the perfect moment, Dean left on a food run and Sam was all alone. With Dean’s things. Their prank war has just started up again for the first time since Stanford and God, Sam missed it. Well, not the pranks but he missed having fun with his brother, missed being with him as a whole. Dean had always been Sam’s constant and it was hell without him at the his side.

The youngest Winchester wondered what he could do, already zipping open Dean’s bags. He pulled out the horribly packed clothes, a few bits of ammo and Dean’s wallet. Well, Dean definitely needed that so Sam had to hurry. Dean would notice it was missing and Sam wouldn't have time to think of a prank.

Sam flipped the wallet open, eyes widening at one of the pictures. It was of himself and Dean, his older brother hugging him close while Sam was smiling brightly, both of his front teeth missing. He remembered that! Sam chuckled at the goofy faces and pulled out another picture. Dean looked to be about four years old and in his arms was a baby Sam, hazel eyes glittering up at his big brother. The edges were worn which meant Dean looked at it a lot and the thought warmed Sam’s soul. And he could see why; in the corner, Mary Winchester was smiling fondly at her two boys, a hand cupping Dean’s neck lightly as she stared at the two.

Sam pulled out the last picture obviously taken by Mary. It was old and Dean looked really young and small. Their father looked happy for once so Sam knew his mother must of been alive. John held a three-year old Dean upside down, hands cupping one of Dean’s hips. Dean himself had his mouth open is silent laughter, his freckled cheeks flushed pink in the sun. Sam never really thought he’d ever see his big brother look so happy before.

It made the little brother sad to think of it that way. He was too engrossed with the pictures to notice Dean re-enter the motel room. The older Winchester looked pissed that Sam was going through his bag but once he saw what Sam was looking at, a nostalgic smile spread on his face.

“Dad looks happy, right?”

Sam jumped, an embarrassed smile on his face at being caught, “Uh, yeah. You both do.”

“Why wouldn't we be?” Dean hummed, taking the picture of their father and himself. “I mean mom was alive and we just found out she was pregnant with you.” Dean smiled at Sam, thinking about that time. He was so psyched about having a baby something in the family. He was a adamant that it was going to be a boy yet both his parent s bargained it would be a girl. 

“What was happening here?” Sam asked, chin hooking on Dean’s shoulder to peak at the picture.

“When mom found out she was pregnant, both of them said it would be a girl. I told them it would be a boy. I was being really...uh...headstrong about it and Dad said enough was enough. Grabbed me and tickled me to tears,” Dean snorted, shaking his head. “In the end I was right, though you seemed to get some Y chromosomes mixed in there somewhere, Samantha.”

“Shut up, Jerk,” Sam huffed, prodding at Dean’s sides. “Ya know, I forgot you were ticklish. Never saw a lot of it as a kid and Dean, you look awesome with a smile on your face.”

Dean chuckled nervously, scooting away from his brother. “Yeah, well, they do say I'm dripping with good looks.”

“Let’s see if I can make you smile like that again!”

“Wait, Sammy, Dohohohont!” Dean squeaked as Sam tackled his brother backwards on the bed, fingers slipping up Dean’s sides to his ribs. Sam experimentally scratched the highest rib before working his way down, making sure to tickle in between the bone.

“Ahahaha! Sahahahammy!” 

Sam chuckled at his brother, moving to straddle Dean’s hips and making sure to drum his fingers against his belly. Dean jumped, hands immediately reaching for Sam’s hands but never made the target for Sam forced them under his knees.

“Can’t have those in the way now can we, Dean?” Sam teased, making Dean’s laughter grow in slight desperation at the helplessness he felt.

“Dohohohon’t tickle mehehe!“ Dean begged, tugged fruitlessly at his hands. Suddenly, Dean screeched when Sam scratched the skin right under his bellybutton. “Nohohot thehehehere!“

“Wow Dean, look at that smile!”

“Yohohou bihihitch!”

“Now that wasn't nice!“ Sam mocked-sighed, tickling Dean’s slight pudge. Dean giggled cutely, feet kicking out as he tried to escape. “Now I got to punish you, big brother.”

“Noho! I’m sohohorry! I’m sorry!” Dean peered up at Sam with pleading eyes which his little brother smiled at.

“All I wanted to do was make you smile, De,” Sam sniffed dramatically, hands falling at Dean’s hips, rubbing small circles into the bones. Already, Dean giggled with anticipation, hands tugging harder from under Sam’s knees. Damn, why did his little brother have to be so ginormous?! “Guess I gotta do this the hard way.”

“Saham, don't you dAHAHAHARE! NOHOHOHO! BAHAHAHAHA!” Dean cackled hysterically as Sam dug ruthlessly into Dean’s hips, making sure to scurry around the bone and pinch the flesh surrounding his hips. Dean’s laughter grew in sheer desperation to make the tickly feelings to just go away, oh my god no! 

With a hard thrust, Dean was able to buck his little brother off of him, quickly curling into a ball. Sam, on the other hand, was grinning madly. His older brother was too cute sometimes. He truly looked like the kid in the picture, not the hardass hunter. It made Sam happy.

Dean sucked in a few deep breaths before glaring at Sam, a small smile still on his face which dimmed the effect.

“You little shit,” Dean muttered, crawling onto of his little brother. Sam let him, knowing he deserved what he was about to get. It wasn't like Sam minded either. If it made Dean smile like that, to tickle Sam into oblivion, he would totally let Dean do it. “Now its your turn!”

Sam giggled and let a bright dimpled smile come out. Dean blinked, a bit shocked, before it fell into an easy grin. Dean attacked Sam’s extremely ticklish tummy with vigor, feeling a certain lightness inside him at Sam’s squeals and snorts.

“DEHEHEHEHE!” Sam cried out, head thrown back, his back arching at the zig-zang and scribbly pattern. “TIHIHIHICKLES!”

“That’s the point, Sammy.”

Sam barely lasted five minutes of constant tummy torture, only begging for Dean to stop when he started the raspberries. The Winchester’s laid panting, shoulder to shoulder, helpless smiles on both of their faces. Sam peered over at his brother, his grin turning brighter and he let out a self-satisfying sigh.

“Next time, don't go through my stuff, bitch.”

“Whatever, jerk.”

~Fin~

Tell me what you think!!!

#Ticklish!Dean #Dean Winchester #Ticklish!Sam #Memories #Supernatural #SPN tickle fic #tickle fic #tickling #awesome little brothers #cute!Dean #cute!Sam #adorable big brothers #Anon prompt #tada #cute #fluff #brotherly love #Fic: Just want to make you smile

[wind0ws-of-this-love]

1, 18, 32 for the unusual asks!!!

1. Spotify, SoundCloud or Pandora?

Spotify!

18. Favorite tv show?

One of my all time faves would have to be One Tree Hill! I binged the first few seasons when I was like 12/13 and idk that show just made me FEEL things when I was in a really horrible place myself. And I have to be honest. I was o b s e s s e d with Glee when I was 15/16/17. Like, next level obsessed. And in my opinion, the Nikita CW series is really underrated. So, I’m gonna stick with those three for now! 

32. 3 Favorite girl names

I like: Sam(antha), Alex(andra) & Elena

Thankyou!! 💚

#anne-shirley-blythe #unusual asks

[fakingitfanfiction]

Her Latest Flame Chapter 20: Fifty-Two

Previous Chapters

The first time the phone rings, Sophie ignores it.

OK, so she doesn’t actually ignore it. That would suggest she doesn’t pay any attention to it at all and that would be something of a… well…

A lie. It would be something of an outright, bald faced, not even Amy would try spinning that bit of bullshit, honest to God lie.

The phone is on the desk and the desk is across the room from her, from her bed, the same bed she’s been sprawled out on for hours, through her first two classes - skipped ‘em both - through a lunch meeting with her advisor (a woman in the Art department who she’s met once and who tried to advise her into, of all things, film) (she’s a fucking dance major), and now, through the ring ring ringing (cause still going) of her phone.

It’s the first time she’s heard it in days and she’d almost - almost - forgot the fucking thing could actually ring.

So, here she is, on her bed, alone, just staring at her ceiling and - ironically enough given who she is sure is on the other end of the line - remembering the time she innocently suggested to Amy that they put glow in the dark stars up there. An entire pack of them, or maybe even two, like an entire universe that would come to life just at night.

“It’d be like camping,” she said, and no, the whole lesbians and camping thing never crossed her mind, not even once. “Kinda. Except, you know, with beds instead of sleeping bags and indoor plumbing instead of bushes that make you itch in your… you know… bush… and, no s'mores and oooooh, can we have s'mores?”

Amy had laughed (and Sophie had smiled cause, not that she would have admitted it then and she sure as fuck wouldn’t cop to it now, she loves the sound of Amy’s laugh) (and yes, that is the correct tense) and thrown a pillow at her and told her, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no stars.

“No stars,” she said. Those were her exact words. “No stars, ever.” Those were her more exact words and when Sophie asked - innocently, again - if they needed to make that a rule, Amy had answered with a groan and another pillow bomb and boy, it was a good thing she always slept with like five of those, what with the number of them she was lobbing in Sophie’s direction.

“OK, OK,” Sophie said. No stars was fine, not a big deal at all. It had been just a thought, a spur of the moment kinda thing that sort of just popcorn-popped into her head (she really had junk food on the brain that night) and those were the sorts of things that tended to pop out just as fast, which is how Sophie’s always been able to tell when something really matters to her. It doesn’t pop off and away. It lingers.

Like Amy. Like Reagan. Like whether or not Jon Snow was really dead cause it wasn’t like she obsessed on that for months or anything and Amy still owed her five bucks since, in the end,Jon was, you know, dead, until the old woman who she totally shouldn’t think was hot (but come on) saved him and yes, she’s digressing here, but it’s her memory so, you know…

Fuck you.

So Amy never popped out (and yes, never does mean still, unfortunately) and neither did, or has, Reagan - even after she bailed on her and never came back - but the stars… yeah, they didn’t last all that long.

“No stars,” Sophie said, perfect agreeable. “But about the s'mores…”

Another pillow - the My Little Pony one (Rainbow Dash, natch) that she won for Amy at the 1st Weekend College Fair - landed on her with thud and an over dramatic 'oh, I’ve been slain!’ that set off a round of giggles from Amy’s bed that warmed areas of Sophie’s heart she hadn’t quite known were cold.

And the next evening, when Sophie got home from her two hour lab session for a class she was sure she didn't need and was even more sure she wasn’t going to pass?

There was a plate of melted just right, still warm, and ooooh… the marshmallow oozed out in perfect little globs when she took a bite… s'mores waiting on her desk.

That was the day when Sophie decided she loved Amy Raudenfeld. Totally, 100% platonic love, of course. Sophie’s not the type to fall in love with just anyone and she’s got more than enough smarts - lab grades, notwithstanding - to ever let that 'anyone’ be the person she lived with.

You don’t shit where you eat, that’s what her Nana always said.

Especially not where you eat s'mores.

At least, you know, not till she was older and actually living with someone and not just sharing a fairly small room - with no stars and far too many pillows - and no options for escape for like the next four years because, no way, no fucking how, was she gonna try and find a new roomie, not after all the work she’d done breaking Amy in and getting her just right.

So, no. No stars on the ceiling and no new roomies in the… room. And no, absolutely no falling in love.

But… s'mores.

So, yeah, there was no way she was falling in love with Amy, but she loves her. Sophie loves the fuck out of that girl and, even now, even as the phone rungs (for the first time) across the room and she knows damn well who it is (cause she’s right on time), Sophie can’t quite bring herself to change the ’s’ to an 'ed’ on the end of that, but she knows - oh, she knows - if she answers that phone?

The past tense is gonna crash headlong into the present and then there’s gonna be stars - and probably Amy seeing them, again - and there will be new roomies cause there’s just gotta be a college rule against living with someone you’ve punched out and there will be no more s'mores and that is just one more 'and’ than Sophie can take right about now.

So she ignores it.

She ignores it, after. As in after she tries - far too quickly - to leap from her bed to answer it and gets her feet tangled in the duvet and ends up doing a Captain America dive halfway across the room, her fingers just catching the edge of the desk as she lands, the phone teasing her with its little vibrating self (and she usually enjoys a little vibrating tease) as it scoots further on the desk and by the time she actually does reach it, she may as well have ignored it, so that is exactly what she does.

Cause it’s gone silent. Again. And all Sophie can do is flop back onto the floor and wonder.

Where are all the pillows now?

The second time the phone rings, Sophie tries for patience.

Cause, well, you saw how well hurrying worked for her.

Though, this time, she’s not on the bed and there’s no duvet to tangle her feet all up in and she could make it across the room safely (probably) (she is still her, after all) and scoop it up off the desk and answer it.

And she will. In, you know, a minute. Or, really, just less than.

Because that is how long it takes her phone to go to voicemail. Just under one minute. Exactly. She timed it once, one time when some girl whose name she didn’t quite remember (Sam) kept calling and calling and calling and oh, did she mention calling?

That girl, whose name she didn’t remember (Sam) (It was Sam, short for Samantha, and she had long brown hair, braided like halfway down her back and no, Sophie didn’t know anything, not anything at all about what it was like to use that braid like a steering wheel) had been, well, something of a… um…

“Rule twelve,” Amy said, not even looking over as the phone rang and rang and, really, she had to have mentioned rang. “So twelve.”

Rule #12: We will never call any girl a mistake, for they are all learning experiences in one way or another and we would not be the women we are without them. So, never a mistake. But, maybe, you know… a really really really poor fucking choice.

Sam short for Samantha should have been short for same as in same call, same time, every fucking day, always hanging up in exactly the same (see?) fifty-two seconds and that was just weird enough to drive Sophie batshit.

Or, you know, more batshit.

“Why? Why fifty-two seconds? Why fifty-two seconds every fucking time?”

They were on the floor, sprawled out on a pair of body pillows Amy had gleefully snagged from the college bookstore (on clearance) (such a good shopper) (Lauren would be proud), watching a movie Amy had been assigned to write a paper about for her CRW 111: Intro to Screenwriting course. It was something about time travel and Bruce Willis and that kid from Third Rock from the Sun who was so not a kid anymore - and if Sophie had ever entertained ideas about guys, Bruce and Mr. Not a Kid would’ve been #’s 1 and 2 on her list - so, either of those alone might have been enough to convince Sophie to watch.

But the female lead was Emily Blunt and that was enough to convince her to watch it twice and to take notes and to vow that if John Krasinski ever turned out to be a complete secret asshole (come on, you know he is) she would find a way to be the one to soothe and mend Emily’s poor broken heart.

(And any other hopefully not as broken and still fully functional and oh, dat ass doe, parts.)

“I’m not sure which scares me more,” Amy said, popping another bite of popcorn (extra butter) into her mouth. They’d had to pop a second bowl after Sophie had gotten a bit overwrought at the end of the movie the first time and cried a whole bunch of tears in it. “That every time she calls for fifty-three -”

“Fifty-two.”

“Right,” Amy said with a nod and her most perfect 'no, you not cray cray at all’ smile (you try being friends with Karma for like your whole life and see if you don’t have one of those). “For fifty-two seconds. Or that you know she does.”

Sophie ignored the smile (you try being her and not learn to do that) and sat up, pausing the movie and no, that had nothing to do with the camera lingering on Emily's… um… face, nope, nothing at all. “Call me,” she said, inspiration suddenly striking (thanks, Em.) “Right now, call me.”

For whatever reason (like, you know, maybe, it being way more entertaining than watching the movie again) Amy obliged and called and, wouldn’t you know, at fifty-three seconds exactly…

S'up. This is Sophie. You know what to do. Of course, if you really knew what to do, I probably would have answered, so maybe that ought to be a hint to work on your skills, um… unless this is Amy, in which case why the hell aren’t you just texting me, you know the rules -

Rule #18: Always text, never call.

Rule #19: If you have to ask why for Rule #18, then obviously, you’ve never had your phone ring at a most… inopportune time… and since we both know that isn’t true, Amy (see: Elsie) (see: Elsie while you were making out with her sorority sister) (see: Woot!).

And that was why fifty-two seconds, every time. Just long enough to be annoying (so, kinda like Sam-short-for-Samantha had been in real life), but not long enough to leave a real message, an actual recording, any verifiable proof that she’d been there.

So, again, kinda like her in real life.

But now, Sophie knows how long it takes - at least for her voicemail to pick up - cause when it comes to other things, complicated things, forgiving and wanting to talk to or, really, wanting to talk to and admitting it kinda things, she’s not so sure just yet.

Which is why she’s waiting.

That, and she doesn’t feel like getting any more bruises on account of Amy even though she’s pretty sure the small bump on her knee and the light grazes on her palms ain’t much of a thing compared to the shiner her roomie’s gotta still be sporting. But that, she thinks, is only fair.

Amy did her damage too. You just can't see hers.

Unless you count looking in the mirror and seeing the red circles under the eyes and the look like she hasn’t slept in like days and the way she visibly flinches every time she even thinks of Reagan or Amy or the phone rings and so, yeah, that’s why Sophie’s avoided the mirror since the moment she’s gotten back and why, again, she’s counting down the seconds in her head.

Forty. Forty-one. Forty-two. Forty-three.

At forty-five, she takes a step toward the desk. At forty-six, her hand comes out, reaching for the phone. At forty-seven, she sees it - her arm, her hand, her fingers starting to close over the tiny little thing in the tiny gold and blue (school colors) case - and at forty-eight, she starts to pull back.

She’s not ready.

What, exactly, she isn’t ready for, she’s not quite sure. She imagines there’s likely gonna be an apology cause, well, have you met Amy? And she imagines there will be tears, probably Amy’s, almost definitely hers. And those (the tears) she can deal with and that (the apology) she’ll kind of have to decide on and she’s OK with that too cause, really, what choice does she have? But then, after the apology and the tears and the other apology (cause Amy, again) and then more tears (cause them) and a whole lot of 'I don’t know’s and more than a few 'so… what do we do now’s and a whole mess of 'I never meant to’s and 'you know I would never want to hurt you’s, it’s still gonna be there, out there, the other thing.

And at forty-nine, she thinks of that other thing - it… she… has a name, but there’s that whole flinching thing, remember - and her hand tenses and Sophie legit doesn’t even know what to do cause if she answers, they’re gonna have to deal with that (her) and if she doesn’t answer, well, it isn’t like it (she) is just gonna fade away and disappear and neither of them will ever even so much as think of her again, right?

Again: have you met Amy?

Or Sophie?

So she’s damned if she does and she’s damned if she doesn’t and there’s no rule, not a single fucking one about what to do in this situation and now, like right now, like at fifty seconds on the damn nose, Sophie’s really wishing there was, she’s really regretting that they never came up with a rule for how to handle a situation like this and how to make the choice and like what you should base your decision on, cause something like that would totes come in handy right about now.

Something that might give her a clue, something like a lightbulb blinking its blinding way to life over her head to tell her what to do, something like… oh, she doesn’t know…

Something like s'mores.

Someday, she’s going to have to figure out why she thinks of that right then (and why she so often thinks of Amy and food, together) but for right now, all she’s really got is this.

Well… fuck.

Cause… yeah.

And at fifty-one seconds exactly, Sophie answers the phone, only to find that fifty-two seconds exactly?

Well, that's not at all what she expected.

The first time Sophie met Farrah was the second week of school when Amy insisted she come with her for a Saturday night dinner at the used to be Raudenfeld-Cooper residence which was now just back to being chez Raudenfeld and Sophie wondered, out loud, why Farrah had never gone back to her maiden name.

“I’m not entirely sure she remembers it,” Amy said on the car ride over and Sophie wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not - it had only been a couple weeks and yeah,,they had some of their rules already and kiss #1 was out of the way (Sophie didn’t think about that) (much) but she still didn't know Amy, like know know her - so she just laughed, politely, and then again, with just a bit less polite, after Amy rolled her eyes and joined in on it and then they were there and Sophie put her game face on.

She was going to be prim and proper. And so, you know, as much like the step-sister Amy had told her all about (though, usually leaving out the step) and as much not like the best friend Amy had also told her all about (though, it was what Amy didn’t say about Karma that told Sophie so much more) because she’d gotten the definite impression that, of the two, the not so step was far more popular with Farrah than best friend ever was.

She wasn’t wrong.

But what she was - also - was underestimating Farrah who, after two full years of watching Amy and Sabrina be together yet somehow apart at the same time, and then having to watch as her daughter slowly faded into the background of her own life (again) as first Shane and then after him, Lauren, and then, finally, even after it seemed like she never would, Karma left, which left Amy, well… alone… was already incredibly grateful for this girl who had brought a bounce back to her baby’s step and a smile back to her face and enough confidence that she - Amy - had actually been the one to suggest bringing Sophie for dinner.

And as… well… as Farrah as Farrah could be, she was, at heart, a good mother devoted to her daughter and only wanting the best for her and, if the last few years had taught her anything at all about Amy, it was that she had no earthly idea where or what or who that best was going to be, so whenever and wherever and whoever it popped up as?

Farrah wasn’t going to do anything to mess it up.

And so dinner went well, so well, in fact, that that first time Sophie met Farrah, she established a new rule, on the way back to the dorm with Amy.

Rule #13: Dinners at the Raudenfeld house will be held a minimum of twice a month on the condition that Farrah be allowed to cook said dinners a maximum of nonce a month.

Amy told Farrah about it the next day and - not surprisingly - she was totes agreeable.

And so the second and third and on and on through the ninth or tenth times Sophie met Farrah, all went swimmingly and all had fun and all had good eats - especially the night they convinced Farrah and a home on-break Lauren to go with them to noodle night and even they couldn’t help but notice Becky of the good, no great, no, fucking spectacular in those pants, ass - and Sophie found that she genuinely liked Amy’s mom.

(And no, she never spoke of that dream she had that one night and she never would.)

And, she found, that Amy’s mom seemed to genuinely like her and that was something of a first, cause Sophie’s friends moms - the ones she met - had never seemed too fond of her.

“It’s like they thought I was going to corrupt their daughters,” she said and nope, she didn’t miss the way Amy rolled her eyes at that. “Like I was going to take them all behind the bleachers and teach them all the finer points of pleasing a woman.” Sophie sighed, a sigh of the totes unjustly accused. “I only did that with the cute ones. Or the desperate ones. Or, you know, Rachel Ann Southworth cause, well, let’s face it. With a name like that and a family like that, she needed to come down… or, you know, go down, a peg or two.”

So, given that Farrah seemed less than even a little concerned about how Sophie might corrupt Amy - the opposite was true, if anything - really, if Sophie had thought about it - maybe once or twice in those fifty-one seconds, she might have been just a bit less surprised that it wasn't her roomie’s voice on the other end of the line, but that of her mother.

“Sophie? Is that you? It’s Farrah. Amy’s mom?”

Sophie wasn’t sure if the clarification was for her - cause maybe Farrah thought she knew (or knew) some other Farrah - or what, but she nodded anyway, before remembering that the older woman couldn’t actually see.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Farrah said, either assuming Sophie was nodding or, more likely, not really caring cause, you know, not the point. “About Amy. And you.”

There was a pause in there, just a small one, just enough of one, that Sophie couldn’t miss it. Amy. And you. Not 'Amy and you’, not like it would have been, you know, like three days ago. She didn’t know what Amy had told Farrah or what Farrah was just guessing about, but, again, not really the point. The point?

“Could you come by the house? Later this afternoon?”

Oh, there was the point.

“I promise,” Farrah said. “You won’t have to see her if you don’t want to.”

And there was the other point. The bigger point, the key point, the point of all points. The point Sophie didn’t know how to address cause she didn’t know if she didn’t want to or did want to or wanted to but just couldn’t and, in the end, it didn’t matter anyway.

Cause she went. Knowing or not knowing, Sophie went and that’s how she’s managed to find herself here, in the just-Raudenfeld driveway, leaning against the hood of Farrah’s car, staring up at the windows lining the second floor of the house. She can’t see Amy’s from the front and, maybe, she thinks, that’s better.

She’ll let you know. Once she actually decides.

So, you know, a week or two. A month. Tops.

Farrah’s sitting on the front steps, her legs crossed in a very lady like manner and that is how Sophie knows she means business. Farrah hasn’t gone lady like since that first night, not really, and she’s gone even less lady like since noodle night.

It’s hard to maintain professional parental distance once you’ve led a serious discussion on how chopsticks have good depth but not girth, after all.

So, now, faced not with friend Farrah but with mom Mrs. Raudenfeld, Sophie’s having a moment or two of reconsideration, a second or two of doubt as to whether coming here was such a good idea cause, really, the last thing she needs or wants is a motherly lecture.

Farrah interrupts her moment of doubt. “I’m just guessing,” she says, “but Amy fucked up, right?”

OK. So maybe less lecture. And less lady like. And 100% more she can see where Amy gets her sometimes unfortunate, sometimes needed, always on fucking point habit of being blunt.

“And, just another guess, but it probably had something to do with a girl,” Farrah continues, not giving Sophie a chance to interrupt or disagree - not that she would - and it’s almost enough to make her wonder what, exactly, Amy did say. “I hate to admit it,” Farrah says with a sigh, a sad tired, resigned bit of a thing. “But that was the one plus of her friendship with Karma. No jealous drama.”

There’s a moment, right then, a tiny one… and oh, fuck that, it’s like a distance from the Earth to the Sun of a moment… when Sophie wonders if Amy’s Princess Sarcasm routine came from her mother too. But the look on Farrah’s face tells her that, no, she is 100% serious.

And there’s just nothing to be done with that.

Farrah pats the step next to her and it takes Sophie a beat to figure out she’s asking her to sit. She scoots over, slowly (cause come on, this is a bit weird) but then settles onto the step and, you know, it’s actually… well… kinda nice. It’s odd, a bit, sitting here with Amy's mom, but it’s got a certain charm. It’s not really that weird -

“There was no… thruple going on though, right?”

And cue the weird. The out of nowhere, where in God’s name did Farrah learn that word and why in the blue fucking hell did she have to say it out loud weird.

Even if she isn't entirely off base cause there was something of a… thruple. Maybe it wasn’t a physical one and oh, now Sophie’s thinking about that and thanking God that they’re both sitting in the shade cause she’s pretty sure her cheeks can be seen from space now. But it was sort of a thruple kinda… mess, when you think about it.

And now she can't stop thinking about it.

“That was what I meant before,” Farrah says. She’s staring straight ahead and if Sophie didn’t know better - and she really doesn’t - she might think Farrah was blushing too. “About Karma and the jealousy. I mean, I know there was that one time with the two of them and that Booker boy…”

She trails off and that moment Sophie was having? The Earth to the Sun one?

Yeah. Earth to the next galaxy. Earth to non-Booker-boy-fucking Andromeda.

“I know Karma got jealous,” Farrah says and oh, how big is that shovel she’s digging this hole with? “Any fool with eyes could see that. Even when she pushed Amy and Sabrina together, and any fool with eyes could see that was… well… don’t get me started…”

Don’t get her started? Sophie’s far more concerned with making her stop.

Which, apparently, she hasn’t.

“Even when she arranged that whole big romantic scene and reunited them and then started up with Felix…” Farrah shakes her head and there’s this look on her face, like the look Sophie and Amy get when they’re watching their favorite shows and the writers do something just so damn stupid and yet, they keep watching cause, really, as stupid as it is, at least it’s still on the air. “I knew Karma hated it,” Farrah says. “She hated every second of every day Amy and Sabrina were together. It might have been the only thing she and I ever agreed on.”

There’s awkward and then there's this, but, hey, at least she isn’t saying 'thruple’ anymore, right?

“You never met Sabrina, did you?” Farrah asks and Sophie shakes her head. She’s met Lauren and Karma and she's heard Shane, on the phone - though she’s not sure she really need the phone to hear him - and she’s heard about Liam and she’s seen Felix’s Facebook friend requests.

The ones he sends weekly. Sometimes with a note. Sometimes not. Sometimes with a profile pic of him and Amy and no, that’s not weird at all.

“You didn’t miss much,” Farrah says and Sophie has to bite back a laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was nice enough, once you got past the lying about being gay and all.” She shakes her head. “Not that Amy had any room to talk there. But Sabrina was just…”

Bland? Blah? Amy with a bit less existential angst? Not Karma?

“A knock off Reagan,” Farrah says. “That’s what she was. A knock off, not as stylish and not as cool and not as hot version of Reagan.”

Andromeda? Did Sophie say Andromeda? She meant Triangulum. So fucking Triangulum.

And no, don’t ask how she knows what the absolute fuck Triangulum is.

“Do you know about Reagan?” Farrah asks and if there was ever a question that was just too loaded… “I mean, I know you and Amy have your rules and all and, besides, I don’t think she ever talks about her. I don’t think she really ever did. Not even with Karma.”

This is that point where Sophie knows she should say nothing. This is that point where Sophie knows she should - really - get up and shake Farrah’s hand (cause it’s 1950) and thank her for the talk and then walk, not run (at least not until she’s out of sight) to the nearest bus stop and never, ever look back.

“Maybe that means Reagan didn’t mean that much to her.”

So, knowing and actually doing… yeah, different things.

Farrah nods, but it slows and then turns to a shake and yeah, no, Sophie didn’t really think so either. “As much as she talked about it and stressed about it and made everyone around her miserable about it,” she says, “Amy was never really worried she was going to actually lose Karma, not for good anyway. It would have taken more than the Jaws of Life to pry those two apart forever and Amy knew it. And I don’t think she much minded the idea of someday not really having Shane around. And, as for Felix…”

Request Denied.

“But Reagan…”

Sophie wonders how funny it would be if Farrah knew how many times she’d said those words to herself the last few days.

It could be so simple. Just forgive Amy and move on.

But Reagan…

Amy saw her first and no, there’s no rule about that, but there should be and you know it.

But Reagan…

Even if you never spoke to Amy again and dazzled Reagan every single night with your skillz, she’s never just gonna forget Amy and you’ll end up with a broken heart, a sore tongue, and no best friend.

But Reagan…

“But Reagan was different,” Farrah says and Sophie tries to catch up, hoping she didn’t miss too much while she was… um… thinking. “When they broke up…” She sighs, staring downward at the sidewalk, this look on her face that Sophie can’t quite place. It reminds her of the look that her mother got, right after she came out.

Loss.

“Amy shut down,” Farrah says. “For weeks. She curled into this cocoon and even Karma… I mean, she was there, right there with her, the whole time.” It’s the first time Sophie can recall hearing anything approaching warmth in Farrah’s voice when she talks about Karma. “But not even she could reach her. I always thought it was just first love, you know? That’s the hardest of all the heartbreaks to come back from.”

Sophie thinks, for a moment - an Earth to the Moon, at best, moment - about the pain in her own chest the last few days. And then she glances up at the window she can’t see and no, she isn’t overwhelmed by the urge to charge up the stairs and hug Amy until they both stop crying and they need to make a rule about the duration of hugs, a rule they will forever ignore.

She isn't overwhelmed and she doesn’t move.

But it’s close.

“So you don’t think that’s it now?” Sophie asks. “You don’t think it was just the whole first love thing? Wouldn’t that explain it though? Why Amy doesn’t talk about her, or share things about her or…”

Or keep pictures buried on her phone of her. Or sneak off to meet her. Or do things to and with and on her that Sophie doesn't want to imagine but does anyway.

Farrah shrugs. “It might, I suppose. But… I didn’t bring you here to talk about Reagan. I’m sorry, i just got… well…” She turns, pivoting on the step so she can look at Sophie and, for a second, Sophie’s worried there’s gonna be a punch involved and this time she’s gonna be on the wrong end. “I didn’t think of it until now,” Farrah says, “but this? It reminds me so much of Amy and Reagan.”

Sophie knows the feeling.

“I don’t know what happened with you two,” Farrah says and yes, her hand does move, but not to punch, but to hold. As in hold Sophie’s hand, which Farrah plucks from the younger girl’s lap and tugs into her own. “And I don’t know, really, who’s to blame. But I do know this.” She gives Sophie’s hand a squeeze and oh, that… it’s new. Someone doing that somewhere other than in bed. Someone doing that to reassure or to care or to show that she matters.

Someone doing that who isn’t Amy.

“I know I haven’t seen my daughter this lost in forever,” Farrah says. “And from the look on your face, she’s not alone in that.”

Sophie’s quite sure Amy’s not alone in it at all. But she’s quite sure they’re not alone in it, even together. And that’s kinda (more than kinda) the whole problem.

Farrah stands, smoothing out her skirt. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t go, but I just hope whatever’s the problem, it’s something you two can work out.” She brushes a few stray strands of hair out of Sophie’s face, her eyes shifting slightly, as if she’s noticed the purple just now, for the first time and… maybe… something’s dawning on her about just how hard working it out might be. “I don’t think Amy will be quite the same without you.”

Farrah offers Sophie a ride back to campus and smiles when the used to be a blonde shakes her head and says 'no, thanks.’ She probably thinks Sophie’s going to go inside, gonna head up the stairs and down the hall and knock once - to be polite - and then it’ll be nothing but hugs and kisses (cheek only and purely of the non thruple variety) and apologies and then in the end, all will be right with the world.

And, maybe, if Sophie had more time, like maybe more than, say, the fifty-two seconds between the moment Farrah pulls out of the drive and the moment her phone stops buzzing, deep in her pocket, to think about it, maybe that's exactly how it would have gone.

Or maybe if she hadn’t glanced at the screen and seen Reagan’s smiling face staring up at her after fifty-two seconds.

So, yeah, Amy’s up there, alone and crying (probably) or asleep (more likely) and surrounded by empty doughnut boxes and she probably can’t bring herself to look in a mirror, for the pain and shame of that shiner. And Sophie’s not much better off and she knows it and she could, so very easily, walk up those stairs and make it all so much better.

But Reagan…

She catches the bus just in time and the ride back to campus takes all of twenty-two minutes, or, really, twenty-two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, to be exact. Sophie spends twenty of those minutes staring at her screen, at those three little words.

One Missed Call

And if she doesn’t call back, not right away at least? Well… that might have a little something to do with that nagging feeling growing inside her. The one that keeps poking at her and jabbing at her and reminding her.

But Amy…

#faking it #faking it fanfiction #reamy #oc #update #submission #secretmonkey #Her Latest Flame

[fanficsandfluff]

Fem!Winchesters Tickle Headcannons

Yeaaaaah idk sorry.....

Dean(na)

Hilariously ticklish

Will curse and fight only for the first few seconds

Then she’s putty

Famous for tugging on hair of attacker when tickled

Sam knows all too well

It friggin’ hurts

So she just tickles harder

Laugh is high-pitched and happy

Secretly enjoys being tickled

Those poor beautifully curvaceous hips are a death spot

Neck sends her into hysterics when nibbled

Does not show she’s ticklish when fucking (unless the person’s damn attractive and sweet)

Doesn’t snort when tickled

Usually snorts when she’s the ler as she tickles the other person senseless

Ruthless ler but pretty submissive lee

Goes after the worst spot while the ler 

Sam(antha)

Super ticklish but fights it to the death

Will deny it, even to De, who knows perfectly well how ticklish she is

Gets revenge all the time

Will fight until she’s firmly pinned and helpless

Laughter is boisterous and bright

When tickled too hard, will tear up from laughing so much

Hates De’s teasing

So much

It kills her every damn time

Dimples encourage De to keep going to keep them noticeable

Armpits well-guarded but when arms are pinned, she’s destroyed when tickled there

Definitely one of her worst spots

Another one is knees

She had a random growth spurt when she was in her early teens, and her legs became longer than her torso

Gangly af back then

But those damn knees are crazy sensitive

Snorts like a damn piggy when given light tickles (as De points out constantly)

Neither more lee nor ler

Doesn’t look for tickles and doesn’t want to tickle really

But when De’s asking for it, she doesn’t disappoint

#genderbend #fem!dean #fem!sam #dean winchester #sam winchester #tickle headcanons #ticklish!sam #ticklish!dean #deanna winchester #samantha winchester #genderbent!dean #genderbent!sam #headcannons #spn #supernatural