Sorry for being so MIA, but I’m nearing the end of my college semester and am studying for a really important test at the end of the month, so I’ve been swamped.
The winners have been drawn y’all! Three of you will get to send in your requests and have them written! As a little bonus fun, I thought I’d allow the winners to make holiday themed requests, in celebration of the upcoming holidays 🎄🎁🕎🥳
Thanks to all who took part in this celebration!! I couldn’t have got here without you!
Without further ado…the winners!
Congratulations @avanatural @fanf1ctionwrit1n @profiler-in-training !!! When you’ve decided upon your requests, send them in to me via ask and I’ll get working on them 😉
I won?? That's incredible! 🙏😍 Congratulations again on the follower milestone, darling ❤ I love that you'll take holiday themed requests! ✨ I can't wait to send you one and see what your lovely mind will come up with!
The winners have been drawn y’all! Three of you will get to send in your requests and have them written! As a little bonus fun, I thought I’d allow the winners to make holiday themed requests, in celebration of the upcoming holidays 🎄🎁🕎🥳
Thanks to all who took part in this celebration!! I couldn’t have got here without you!
Without further ado…the winners!
Congratulations @avanatural @fanf1ctionwrit1n @profiler-in-training !!! When you’ve decided upon your requests, send them in to me via ask and I’ll get working on them 😉
Warnings: language, talk of drinking/alcohol, talk of nightmares and hell, PTSD symptoms, unintended violence
Word count: 2579
A/N: Okay, here’s chapter three. I hope y’all enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing this one. It just seemed to come easily while writing :) Once again, thank you @avanatural (my amazing beta!) for reading this over!
Warnings: language, talk of drinking/alcohol, talk of nightmares and hell, PTSD symptoms, unintended violence
Word count: 2579
A/N: Okay, here’s chapter three. I hope y’all enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing this one. It just seemed to come easily while writing :) Once again, thank you @avanatural (my amazing beta!) for reading this over!
Congratulations! You deserve to celebrate! 💗 Ever since I found your blog I'm always looking forward to your POTO content. I love your writing and I wish you many more milestones like this! 🥳
Just saw this now darling! Thank you so much!!! This is just the encouragement I need to write some more POTO content! ;)
I’ve completed the 750 follower fic request list and will be posting the three winners soon 😊 I am a bit swamped with school stuff but will start working on the 3 winners’ requests as soon as possible.
Warnings: language, talk of drinking/alcohol, talk of nightmares and hell, PTSD symptoms, unintended violence
Word count: 2579
A/N: Okay, here’s chapter three. I hope y’all enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing this one. It just seemed to come easily while writing :) Once again, thank you @avanatural (my amazing beta!) for reading this over!
previous chapter / next chapter
As much as you’d hoped things would start to return to normal now that the ‘team’ had been reunited, it quickly became apparent that normal wasn’t a word you’d be able to use anymore. You had noticed almost right away that Sam was different, although you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. It was just something in him that you felt was off, completely unlike the man you’d known him to be only months prior. The Sam you knew was buried somewhere deep inside and the facade of what he thought was ‘normal’ was tenuous at best.
Dean had changed too, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. You hadn’t thought much of it at first; the fixation on finding the thing that pulled him out seemed rational. After all, that thing, that angel, had altered the course of his life. But it was so much more than that too. A toxic mix of self-hatred, guilt and shame churned just below the surface and Dean hid it the only way he knew how - with alcohol, effortless lies, and sarcastic wit.
“Dean, are you okay?” You question softly, your hand resting gently on his arm. His viridescent eyes bore into yours, emotion crackling in their depths.
“Of course Y/N. Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks, a humorous lit to his voice as if he had no clue why you’d be asking him that. He gives you that coy smile, the one that always manages to make you forget how to speak, leaving your mind blank.
You stumble over your words as you try to gather your thoughts. “Dean...you’ve been through a lot and I just want to-”
He interrupts you. “I told you. I don’t remember anything.” His words leave no room for further discussion as he speeds up his gait, leaving you struggling to keep up. He quickly crosses the small, dark motel parking lot, water splashing up from the pavement as he moves.
He roughly pushes open the door, slamming it back against the wall of the small, dingy motel room. Sam lifts his head up from where he’d been bent over his laptop, narrowly missing getting hit by the car keys Dean throws onto the table.
“What’s up with you?” Sam asks, his eyebrow quirked up in confusion at his brother’s behavior. Dean doesn’t reply, opting instead for grabbing the half-full bottle of whiskey next to the TV and taking it to the other twin bed. He takes a heavy swig from it as he settles against the cheap headboard. You let out a small sigh, taking a seat next to Sam at the table.
“Piss off Sam.” Dean snarls, taking another long pull from the bottle, grabbing the remote from the nightstand and turning on a random ball game. Sam gives you a look over the top of his laptop before he closes it and stands.
“I’m going to head out and grab some dinner. Anything you guys want?” Sam addresses both of you but his kaleidoscopic eyes are on you. You give him as much of a smile as you can muster, along with a soft shake of your head.
“Whatever man,” Dean says apathetically, his eyes not leaving the TV as he finishes off the bottle of alcohol. Sam gives him a long look before grabbing his jacket off the back of the cheap, wood panel chair and the keys to the Impala.
“I’ll be back in a bit.” Sam says soft enough so only you can hear him. “Try to talk to him. He always did open up better for you.”
You give him a subtle nod, your eyes already going back to settle on Dean. He isn’t looking at you, his eyes focused on the TV, and you can’t quite tell if he is ignoring you or is really interested in the baseball game.
“Never pegged you for a sports junkie.” You call out, catching Dean’s attention.
He gives you an overly exaggerated eye-roll as he reaches for a warm, unopened beer on the nightstand, cracking it open before returning his attention to the TV.
You let out a soft sigh as you stand from your spot at the table, slowly making your way to the unoccupied side of the bed Dean was lying on. You settle in against the headboard, your eyes on Dean, instead of the TV. You don’t miss the tension sitting in his shoulders or the bags under his eyes. The longer you look at him, the more you realize those months away had aged him. He no longer looked like the young, carefree hunter he once had been. This Dean looked like, well, like he had barely survived everything hell had to throw at him.
As much as you wanted to get Dean to talk about it, to help him find something that served as an outlet for those feelings he denied existed, you knew that sometimes, all you could give him was the quiet assurance of your presence.
You had had a naïve notion that finding the being that pulled Dean from hell would help relieve some of the tension hanging over the three of you, but it hadn’t. In fact, discovering the existence of angels had created more questions than it had answered.
“How can you just buy the crap he’s saying?” Dean raises his voice as his gaze shifts from Bobby, to Sam, to you. “C’mon, angels aren’t real.”
“Don’t you want to believe that all this, the years of hunting, of no recognition, of barely scraping by were for some bigger reason?” You question, your eyes searching his as you look for even a glimmer of understanding. The barely restrained anger continues to blaze behind his eyes, yet you continue. “Dean, for the first time in years, I feel that it’s not all meaningless. I have hope.” You pause, needing to take a deep breath to calm that rush of emotions rising in your chest. “Why don’t you?”
“Because hope doesn’t exist. It’s all a lie.” He gruffs out, his pessimistic and unbelieving tone fracturing your already fragile heart. “The only one you can ever trust is yourself.”
You reach out a hand to brush back the lock of hair that had fallen down over his forehead. “You know that isn’t true Dean. Somewhere in you lies that hope. All you have to do is trust a little.” You whisper, giving him a small smile before taking a step back. There was that part of you that knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dean believed.
And the longer it took for Dean to return to ‘normal’, the more frustrated Sam became. You could see it in the words that Sam could barely restrain himself from saying. It was in the skeptical set of his brow, every time he watched Dean down half a bottle of whiskey in a short amount of time. It was in that question that he’d been asking Dean on repeat since Dean had returned; “Are you okay?” And every time, Dean managed to talk his way out of Sam’s concern, brushing it off with a loud laugh or a sarcastic reply.
And one day, on the drive back to Bobby’s after a long hunt, it happened. Sam had had enough; he so clearly wanted his brother back and he was done waiting for Dean to return to who he’d been before hell.
“Dude, you look like shit,” Sam says, watching as Dean climbs behind the wheel of the Impala. Dean doesn’t respond; instead, he fires up the engine, revving it loudly a few times before easing it out of the parking spot in front of the motel. Dean doesn’t crank up the radio like he usually does once the blacktop is rolling smoothly underneath the rubber of the tires, a sign in itself that worries you.
“Must’ve been the nightmares. You were pretty loud last night.” Sam presses, turning his body towards Dean. You can see the tension set in Dean’s shoulders and you bite your lip, hoping that Sam doesn’t push it.
Dean doesn’t respond, instead he reaches forward and cranks on the radio, Foreigner blasting from the speakers loud enough to drown out any attempts at conversation. Sam is quiet for a beat or two before he leans forward and shuts it off.
“Dude, ignoring it isn’t going to help.” Sam says abruptly, his tone a bit more gruff than it had been a moment before.
Dean gives Sam a wordless look, his brow set in bored exasperation as his attention returns to the road. “I told you, I don’t remember anything.” He says firmly, although you don’t believe a word.
Sam doesn’t either apparently, as he continues. “Dean, that’s bullshit and you know it. Something happened down there, something you remember and don’t want to talk about.” He exclaims loudly, slamming a hand against the dash.
“Sam, that’s enough.” You say stiffly, noticing the way Dean was currently clenching his jaw, his hands tight around the steering wheel and his shoulders tight with tension. You want to reach forward and run a hand across his shoulders in an attempt to erase that rigidity. More than that, you want to be able to take him into your arms and erase the memories that have haunted him since returning.
Sam turns to look at you, eyes steely in a way you hadn’t seen before. “I’m not just going to leave it Y/N. He’s obviously hiding something and I’m not going to gullibly take it like you do.” He hisses at you, frustration leaking through his voice. You are taken back by his words, unsure of how to respond.
“Enough.” Dean snaps, causing both of you to look at him. “Both of you, shut up. I’ve had it. No more talking.” His words are harsh, but you know better than to push it right now. So you lean back against the leather seat and close your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. You aren’t that upset that he snapped at you, but rather his rejection of your attempt to help him, to protect him (even if it was from his own brother) hurt. It hurt, knowing that Dean was hurting and you couldn’t help him, that he wouldn’t let you help him. You tuck your legs up underneath you as you let out a small sigh, your gaze wandering to the window to look at the stars shining in the dark sky. The miles pass slowly as you desperately try to come up with some answer to the whole situation.
Dean pulls into Bobby’s yard an hour or so later, the headlights briefly illuminating the path to the house before the entire yard goes dark. The three of you remain quiet as bags are grabbed from the trunk and you wearily make your way to your rooms. You hesitate at the door of the room you and Dean share, unsure if he wants you in the room with him after what happened in the car.
“What are you waiting for sweetheart? Open the door.” Dean’s gruff, tired voice pulls you out of your indecision as you step forward, pushing the door of the darkened room open. You shuffle forward, stopping only long enough to drop your duffel on the floor before shedding your dirt-stained jeans and wrinkled top, exchanging them for the large T-shirt and flannel lying near your side of the bed.
You crawl into bed after that, too tired to care about finishing the rest of your nightly routine, opting instead for the warmth of the bed. The bedspread is pulled over you and tucked into your side, causing you to sleepily open your eyes.
“G’night sweetheart,” Dean says, his mesmerizing hazel eyes gentle, a sharp contrast to the empty, hard eyes that had stared back at you from the rearview mirror only hours before.
“G’night Dean.” You mumble, your body already half asleep as the exhaustion of the day wears down on you. You feel his hand come to gently cup your face, a thumb running slowly over your cheekbone as you fade away.
Movement in the bed next to you wakes you up in the dark, early hours of the morning. You blink a few times, trying to orient yourself when you feel Dean turn over roughly beside you, muttering a few incoherent words as he does. “Dean...Dean.” You call, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, in an attempt to wake him up.
Before you can even register what’s happening, Dean is on top of you, his solid weight pressing you deep into the mattress, an arm heavy against your throat, cutting off the air to your lungs. You try to push him off, try to tell him to stop, but all you can do is flail your arms about helplessly; the lack of air causing your vision to become fuzzy. You see, through the growing haze coming over vision, as the heavy fog of his nightmare lifts, the realization of what he’s doing reaches his eyes before he scrambles off of you.
You pull yourself up into a sitting position, coughing occasionally as you regain your breath. When you can breathe normally again, you scan the room looking for Dean. You find him standing stock-still near the door, about as far away from the bed as he could be while still being in the room.
You climb out of bed, wrapping Dean’s flannel, the one you’d been sleeping in since he ‘died’, tighter around yourself as you slowly walk up to him. “Dean?” You ask, tentatively reaching out a hand towards his arm. He jerks backward before you can touch him.
“Don’t.” His voice is thick, almost gravelly as his gaze meets yours. His emerald eyes are swirling with a wild combination of emotions, of which the easiest to identify is guilt. A heavy ache settles in your chest as you realize that Dean was already blaming himself for what happened.
“Dean, this wasn’t your fault.” You say, your tone low, but firm in an attempt to make him understand. “You were having a nightmare. I shouldn’t have tried to-”
He cuts you off almost immediately. “Stop. I almost choked you to death and you’re blaming yourself? I almost killed you, one of the only truly good things in my life.” His voice is dark in a way you thought he reserved solely for talking of the repulsive creatures you hunted. You realize with a start that he didn’t think himself any better than those monsters.
“I need some air.” He spits out as he turns and practically flees from the bedroom, leaving you standing by yourself in the dark. You hear the loud purr of an engine down in the yard a few moments later, an engine you know could only belong to Baby and you reluctantly climb into bed, intent on waiting up for him until he returns.
You lay alone for hours, straining to hear the warm chug of a downshifting engine, marking his return to the shabby farmhouse. It never comes. Instead, you spend the rest of the night in bed, surrounded by his smell, but unable to feel him. It serves as a cruel reminder to only a few short weeks ago when you’d thought that the last physical thing you’d have to remind you of Dean was the scent that lingered on his pillow.
(Y/n) meets Dean Winchester at a bar but their paths seperate until they meet again on a hunt. (Y/n) and the Winchesters meet more often and grow together as a family. The time flies and Dean becomes more than just family to you, or was he ever less?
[ONE] Getting Closer (During a hunt, the reader feels being followed. Surprisingly, she will be meeting the Dean Winchester and his brother Sam. Who is the enemy? What is the thing they are hunting?)
[TWO] Date Night (You and the Winchesters arrive on the crime scene. Soon you are sure that there is a witch who causes trouble. Which one of the three of you will defeat her? AND who will go on a date?)
[THREE] Something In Common (You are visiting Jody and enjoying your day off. The winchesters are coming over for dinner and you are having a good time until Dean says something stupid)
[FOUR] Stay Outside (Your phone rings while you were under the shower. Unknown number. As you pick up it was Dean. The Winchesters needed you, since you are the only one they know that can help. As you saw them getting in trouble you couldnt resist)
[FIVE] Holding You (Dean picks up the phone and finds out that you are captured. He and Sam rush to help you, but when they see you they couldnt believe what you have gotten through)
[SIX] Angels Touch (You wake up just to find Dean next to you in your bed. Since you couldnt get up yet, the brothers take care of you until someone special finds a way to help you)
[SEVEN] Feeling Home ((Y/n) finally moves to the bunker. She decides to redecorate her room and gets help from the family)
[EIGHT] He’s Right (While you are having a normal day in the bunker and Sending time with Dean, Sam finds you an interesting case. Will all of you return unharmed?)
[NINE] She Is Here )When (y/n) comes home to the boys, she’s told by Sam that Dean kept a secret from her. In her past, she was lied to and that secret made everything go down. (Y/n) decides to take her time and fix the situation)
[TEN] Midnight Pie (Dean isn’t pleased, after the (y/n) comes back to the bunker and so you hide in your room until you get hungry. What you didnt know, another hunter gets hungry too)
[ELEVEN] Family Time (You’re having a cold and Castiel and Jack are taking care of you. While the Winchesters are hunting, some secrets are revealed)
I just hit a huge follower milestone (at least to me) and it’s all because of you guys!! I can’t thank you enough for the support and the likes/reblogs of my work!! I adore each and every one of you guys!!!
I can’t tell you how much each of you means to me! I never would have guessed or even thought that there would be this many of you when I started this blog, and yet here you are! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!
As a little celebration, I’ve decided to do something a little different than the prompt drabbles I’ve done in the past (if y’all can remember, a lot of those turned out far longer than an actual drabble 🙄🤦♀️)
For this, all you have to do is drop me an ask, comment on this post, or send me a message and I’ll add you to a list. From there, three of you will be randomly chosen and I’ll write a 2k or longer fic based off of a request you send me (as long as it follows my request rules).
One and One and One Makes Three - NCIS Reader Insert
Pairing: Gibbs x fem!reader
Warnings: pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, age gap between reader and Gibbs, mentions of anxious/nervous feelings, fluff! (Wow! It's been a while)
Word count: 1104
Request: anonymous
“can i request an “im pregnant” au with gibbs?? And how good father he is!!”
A/N: I know you requested an au, which in my head means a headcannon, but this idea is actually in my list of fics to write 😉, so I decided to give you a one-shot😁 Enjoy!!
It feels like your whole body is jittering as you wait in front of the small vanity in your bathroom. The cheerfully bright pink and white pregnancy test sitting on the marbled countertop is the only thing keeping you from knowing whether your life had just changed forever. Or rather, the three minutes until the test is complete is all that stands between you and the unknown.
You start drumming your fingertips along the edge of the porcelain sink, trying desperately to find some way to release your anxious energy without somehow catching the attention of your NCIS agent husband, who was known for knowing exactly what was going on at all times. The drumming of your fingers turns into tapping your feet which leads to you nervously hopping around the small bathroom, trying to distract yourself from the seconds that are slowly ticking by.
As you impatiently wait, your energy pouring out into short, vigorous strides as you pace the length of the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what a baby would do to your life, to Jethro’s life, and the life the two of you shared together.
You hadn’t thought that children were ever going to be in the cards for you. At first, you’d thought that it was because you hadn’t found the right guy, only stumbling upon Jethro after years of dating one wrong guy after the other. In fact, you’d only met Jethro because the guy you were supposed to be meeting for a blind date stood you up. Your frustration and disappointment had led you to the ice cream aisle in the grocery store, where upon leaving, you’d accidentally bumped in a certain silver-haired, blue eyed man. You had apologized profusely, even insisting on buying the man’s groceries (a sparse selection of items that made up a bachelor’s dinner if you’d ever seen one). He had quietly refused and before you could even protest, he was asking you out to dinner that night. You had said yes without thinking, something within you calling you to get to know this man.
Then, as the two of you moved forward in the relationship, you hadn’t thought much about children because Jethro was a good twelve years older than you. You figured he’d had the chance and decided not to go that route in life.
Then, you’d learned about Shannon and Kelly and you’d buried deep within yourself that part of you that had started fantasizing about having a little boy or girl with Jethro. You couldn’t ask that of him knowing he’d lost his first, his only, child and had effectively closed the door on that part of his life. You wouldn’t ask him to confront the demons that came with having a second child that lived long past the life of his first.
As you fell deeper in love with Jethro, you began to view your dwindling chance at children as something of a sacrifice to keep Jethro in your life. It hurt, but the thought of living life without him, after you’d seen just how great life was with him, hurt more. So you threw yourself into the lives of the children around you, the number of nieces and nephews (many of them honorary) making it easy. You attended plays and concerts, ball games and parties, and freely offered up your babysitting services to all of your friends. And although Jethro raised a few eyebrows at the number of events you went to for the children in your life, he never asked why you’d started throwing yourself whole-heartedly into their lives.
A loud beep echoes throughout the bathroom, pulling you from the downward spiral your mind had been sucked into. You take a deep, slow breath before looking at the test. Two faint pink lines stare back at you, ripping the breath away from your lungs.
Positive.
In an instant, a new life flashes before your eyes...
Tiny hands grasping your finger.
Bright blue eyes staring up at you.
Tottering steps taken towards outstretched hands.
A small body cradled between you and Jethro as Jethro whispers fantastical nighttime stories of dragons and knights in shining armor.
Chocolate chip pancakes and Saturday morning cartoons.
Ball games in the yard, little feet chasing after a wayward ball as Jethro’s rich laughter fills the air.
You realize with a start that you’re crying, the tears rolling down your cheeks, the pregnancy test long since forgotten on the bathroom floor. The need to tell Jethro seizes you and you’re up off the bathroom floor and into the hallway before you even have time to process what you’re doing.
“Jethro?” You call, your voice echoing out in the lowly lit house. He doesn’t answer, so you head towards the basement. The steeps creak as you make your way down into the cool basement, the heavy smell of wood calming your nerves even before you make it to the bottom.
“Jethro?” You ask, standing awkwardly at the bottom of the steps as your eyes scan over the room.
A head appears from behind the wood planks of a half finished boat, the yellow light making his silver hair shine. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” His voice is rough as he steps around the front of the boat and closes the space between the two of you. His hands are outstretched, reaching for your face as he wipes away the remaining tears with his fingers. “What’s wrong Y/N?” He asks quietly, his blue eyes searching yours for some sort of answer.
“I’m-we’re…” You stumble over the words, another lump rising in your throat as you try to form a proper sentence. “I’m pregnant Jethro.” You whisper, your gaze dropping to the floor as anxiety rises in your chest. You had no way of knowing what he would say, after all, you’d avoided the topic your entire relationship with him.
A warm, rough hand slides down your cheek, to your jaw as he delicately lifts your chin until you’re looking at him. “You’re what?”
“I’m pregnant.” The words are a little easier to say the second time but the look in his eyes prevents you from saying any more. He stares at you a beat longer, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, the emotional tides within them threatening to pull you under. Then, his arms are wrapped around you, bringing you in close, his lips pressing a faint kiss to your temple.
“Best news I’ve heard all day.” He murmurs and you let out a laugh of relief as you lift your lips up to his, giving him a long kiss.
I just hit a huge follower milestone (at least to me) and it’s all because of you guys!! I can’t thank you enough for the support and the likes/reblogs of my work!! I adore each and every one of you guys!!!
I can’t tell you how much each of you means to me! I never would have guessed or even thought that there would be this many of you when I started this blog, and yet here you are! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!
As a little celebration, I’ve decided to do something a little different than the prompt drabbles I’ve done in the past (if y’all can remember, a lot of those turned out far longer than an actual drabble 🙄🤦♀️)
For this, all you have to do is drop me an ask, comment on this post, or send me a message and I’ll add you to a list. From there, three of you will be randomly chosen and I’ll write a 2k or longer fic based off of a request you send me (as long as it follows my request rules).
I just hit a huge follower milestone (at least to me) and it’s all because of you guys!! I can’t thank you enough for the support and the likes/reblogs of my work!! I adore each and every one of you guys!!!
I can’t tell you how much each of you means to me! I never would have guessed or even thought that there would be this many of you when I started this blog, and yet here you are! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!
As a little celebration, I’ve decided to do something a little different than the prompt drabbles I’ve done in the past (if y’all can remember, a lot of those turned out far longer than an actual drabble 🙄🤦♀️)
For this, all you have to do is drop me an ask, comment on this post, or send me a message and I’ll add you to a list. From there, three of you will be randomly chosen and I’ll write a 2k or longer fic based off of a request you send me (as long as it follows my request rules).
I just hit a huge follower milestone (at least to me) and it’s all because of you guys!! I can’t thank you enough for the support and the likes/reblogs of my work!! I adore each and every one of you guys!!!
I can’t tell you how much each of you means to me! I never would have guessed or even thought that there would be this many of you when I started this blog, and yet here you are! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!
As a little celebration, I’ve decided to do something a little different than the prompt drabbles I’ve done in the past (if y’all can remember, a lot of those turned out far longer than an actual drabble 🙄🤦♀️)
For this, all you have to do is drop me an ask, comment on this post, or send me a message and I’ll add you to a list. From there, three of you will be randomly chosen and I’ll write a 2k or longer fic based off of a request you send me (as long as it follows my request rules).
Ahhh, congratulations!!! 😍❤ I’m so happy for you, darling! 🙌 You deserve all the love! 💕 I’m so glad to have met you 😊 I love your idea for this celebration, please add me to your list! 🙏❤
@avanatural !!! 🥺🥰 You are so amazing!! Thank you for the sweet words! They definitely brought a smile to my face! I’m so GLAD I met you too, darling ❤️And I’ll totally add you to the list! 😉 (Can I just say - I freaking LOVE the Dean GIF!)
