#<—that’s pre gabe tag

[dilutedbeanibeans]

some tmc doodles!!!! I dont think Ive ever shown off my gabriel design here!!!

also here is my pre heaven overthrow gabe design!!! normal seraphim guy :]

I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS SERIES ANYMORE‼️‼️ THIS IS FOR ARCHIVAL PURPOSES

full page under the cut + rambles

OKAY SO. I HAVENT DRAWN THESE GOOBERS IN SO LONG!!!!!! my art has DEFINITELY shot up in quality since then and it makes me so!!!!!joyous!!!!!!!

I am SO happy that Ive improved because for a long while I felt like I was stuck in a weird place of. Art Limbo and I’m so happy to realize that I’ve actually just been slowly improving this whole time!!!!!

AND TO GIVE AN. EXAMPLE

THIS FIRST PICTURE WAS LESS THAN A YEAR AGO!!!!!! I DREW THAT IN FEBRUARY!!!!!!

idk if it’s just me but seeing my art improve THIS MUCH within a year is so. amazing. I’m so proud of myself honestly

[cherubchoirs]

Kid (or lamp) Gabriel and Micheal comparing their small goat tails to each other, who is the cutest baby angel as they thought?

half of lucifer's job at this point is breaking them up as they fight over who's the favorite

[sugarhillpark]

I was tagged by @annoyingpetekey and @pyrchance. Thank you I love talking about music. ✨ (I think we've all agreed we like Peter Wentz and the bands with his tall pretty associates here so I have left those bands unspoken)

I am no-pressure tagging @100percent-unimpressed and @gnome-cleric because I would like to know. 😊

[dancingtotuyo]

9. the fear of what's to come

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You and Joel navigate life changing news.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, mentions of potential pregnancy complications including but not limited to miscarriage and stillbirth, single reference to a fetus being a child (not intended in a pro life way), angst, grief, complicated feelings surrounding pregnancy.

Notes: A huge thanks to my amazing beta readers and friends @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin & @janaispunk

If you have not checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3088

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

You know three weeks after your missed period what is happening. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s just like last time. Menopause crosses your mind briefly, but the symptoms don’t line up. You’re sensitive to the same foods, nausea rolls in and out like the ocean tides throughout the day. The insatiable craving for a tomato sandwich cements it two days later. Tears run down your cheeks as you quickly finish off the sandwich and prepare another. 

You don’t get excited. You don’t make plans, and most importantly, you don’t tell Joel. You’re 45. Joel is in his late 50s. You know the statistics, the pre-end-of-the-world ones. You can’t imagine they’ve improved. 

Instead, you just hope that when it happens, nothing goes wrong. There’s no DNC, no pills to make sure everything passes properly or ensure no infection sets in. You’ve aided many women through this, many much younger than yourself. Some make it just fine, others have complications with nothing but prayer, poultices, and 20-year-old antibiotics to help. You’re not sure what actually does it when the women make it through. Some of them you've buried. Their faces flicker through your mind. You cannot be one of them. You cannot leave Carter without either of his parents in this world.  

You tell Maria. You tell her everything she needs to know. What to do step by step when it happens. Since Adam’s injury, Dr. Pooley refuses to practice anything more than simple first aid. You’re both certain it’s dementia. You spend most mornings listening to him talk through different lectures he attended. On the mornings his brain won’t cooperate, you sip tea together. He’s writing down what he remembers, but you have to fact-check it. He’s already taught you most of it anyway. 

“You have to tell Joel,” Maria says when you tell her. 

You refuse. You won’t do it. You won’t bring him into this. You have this silent agreement that you’re partners in this world, but he still lives in the house across the street with Ellie. There’s never been discussions about moving in together or anything past that. You don’t call him your boyfriend. He doesn’t call you his girlfriend. Making those commitments, those plans, it will hurt too much when the world takes him away. 

Carter calls him “Daddy.” It makes Joel smile every time. He’s accepted that commitment. It makes you smile too, but there’s still a little ache in your heart each time. Carter knows about Gabe. You tell him stories all the time. If you ask him, he says he has two daddies. One here and one in heaven. 

But you won’t tell Joel about this child. He’s lost one. He doesn’t need to lose another. 

Maria fights you on it. She looks at her son pointing out that she was 2 years older than you are now when he was born healthy. You don’t remind her she almost died, but she sees it in your eyes. You still have nightmares about that night.

You’re firm. You’re not going to tell Joel. Neither will she, and she damn sure won’t tell Tommy either. 

You wait for the cramps and the blood, but they never come. You hit the 3-month mark, your 2nd trimester at the beginning of October. You don’t cry in the bathroom. You square your shoulders. Second-trimester miscarriages happen. Stillbirths happen, but hope gathers in the depths of your soul, growing with each day. You push it away with logic and reasoning. 

Two sides of you war against each other. You can’t bring another life into this world. At one point you were okay with it. You felt safe here, and while you still do, it doesn’t feel okay anymore. The world still digs its ugly claws into this community. Yet, the hopes you used to hold in your mind, the ones you had with Gabe, and the ones you had before the outbreak still linger. In a perfect, uncomplicated world, this is what you would choose. 

You hide the sickness from Joel with relative ease. He’s often awake and out of bed before you for patrol shifts, early morning chores, or waking up with Carter so you can sleep in.

You deliver the Crosby twins a week later without complications. Melissa is only a couple of years younger than you, but at your age, you know how crucial those few years are. When you finally reach your front porch, you sit in the darkness of Wyoming and finally let the tears fall because fate seems to be telling you that this is happening, or just sending you another person to lose. The realization hits you like a freight train. Time is up. You have to tell Joel. 

You crack open the door to Carter’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep and it relieves you to know he's here. You’re less on edge when he’s close, and It means Joel picked him up from Maria and Tommy’s. It means Joel is in your bed.

Sure enough, he’s there when you creep in. He sleeps on his side curled up over your pillow. You roll your eyes. Yes, it's endearing, but it’s also a pain in the ass to get your pillow back.

The bathroom light is blinding at first, but your eyes slowly adjust as you turn on the shower and steam fills the space. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you undress, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You’ve noticed the subtle changes in your body over these past couple of months, but they’re becoming more noticeable. Your breasts have grown, they’re so sensitive, and your sports bra pulls at the seams. Joel commented on it last week. You joked you were packing on extra weight for winter acting like it was nothing. 

Your favorite pair of jeans no longer fit. You’ve mostly stuck to leggings since. You’re starting to clock the subtle changes in your body. They’re happening faster than with your last pregnancy. The past week, you’ve shut Joel down sexually, scared he would catch on despite your sex drive skyrocketing. It’s been difficult. 

The shower washes away everything: the sweat and grime of the day, your tears, the tension in your muscles. You stand under the water until it runs cold, slipping on Joel’s worn soft t-shirt.

Your pillow is back on your side of the bed, Joel still on his side. A smile creeps onto your face. He keeps his eyes closed, but you know he’s awake. You don’t say anything as you slide into bed, but your anxiety spikes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You have to tell him. 

You’re staring at the ceiling when he breaks the silence. “What happened?” 

You suck in a breath. He thinks something went wrong tonight. He’s probably preparing to dig a grave. “Nothing, mom and babies are fine.”

“So it was twins?” 

“Yeah.” You had suspected as much, but the ultrasound machine doesn’t work, try as you might to get it operational. You hadn’t been able to find a second heartbeat with the Doppler. 

“So what’s buggin you?” His drawl is deeper, soaked with sleep. 

He scoots a little closer, hot breath tickling your ear. You can’t move. You should look him in the eye when you tell him, but you can’t. The words are at the back of your throat surging forward toward your lips. The anxiety in your chest feels like a herd of buffalo stomping across the countryside. You squeeze your eyes shut to try and stop it.

“Sweetheart?” His hand reaches toward you, eyes trained on your profile as concern laces his brow. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

His hand stops over your arm. You feel its warmth so close, and then it goes away. You dare to look at him. You expect him to get out of bed and bolt. You don’t know why. He’s only shown you otherwise the entirety of your relationship, but this is more than either of you signed up for. Instead, you watch as it sinks in. He connects the dots, all the symptoms and signs that were right in front of his face, his subconscious absorbing them, but refusing to put it all together. 

“I’m sorry,” you say.

You look back toward the ceiling, tears slipping from your eyes. 

His hand covers your abdomen, forehead pressing against your temple. He starts to feel the changes to your body for what they are. You shudder. 

“How long have you known?”

There’s not a trace of judgment or fear in his voice, but it does little to assure you. You’re scared. It doesn’t matter what Joel says or does, the fear is overwhelming. 

“Beginning of August.”

“Shit, baby.” He pulls you into him, cradling your head against his chest. “You didn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I didn’t think it would last.” After months of holding the tears back, you finally let them out, a mix of relief and fear. “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to-” 

You can’t finish it. You can’t say it out loud, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. You didn’t want him to lose another child, and it wrecks him. His grip on you is crushing, but it soothes your shaking frame. Just as you come down, his sobs greet your ear because he’s scared too. Every single fear and anxiety that has come over you the past months, he feels too. Maria’s labor and delivery flash through his mind. If that happens to you, who’s going to save you? 

You reach up to cradle his face. He presses into your neck. Your skin is sticky and salty again, but you don’t even think about it as the man you love and can’t tell cries in your arms. You’re unable to return his soothing squeeze, but you lay there to provide any comfort you can. The two of you fall asleep tangled in each other. 

You feel Joel’s fingers dancing across your abdomen before you’re fully conscious. There’s no rhyme or reason to his movements. His other hand brushes over your temple and through your hair. Every once in a while you feel his breath and lips across your neck, up and down your arm, over your collarbone. It feels like he’s memorizing you, fear present in all of his movements even now. 

You finally open your eyes. His movements still as you look at him. There are tears in his eyes as his head falls forward, resting against yours. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” You reach out, nails raking across his arm. 

He shudders under your touch. “I wish you told me sooner.” 

You bit your lips. “I’m sorry.” 

He lets out a deep sigh, kissing your forehead. His hand drifts to your abdomen again. You watch his eyes, so expressive filled with fear and anxiety and maybe a little bit of awe and guilt?

“I should’ve been more careful.”

You press your head to his, inhaling softly. “We.”

Joel’s fingers scrape along your jaw, his beard rough against your chin. “I like being a we.”

“Me too.”

Silence settles between the two of you. The wind knocks against the window, but it’s warm next to Joel. His arm snakes around you, tugging you closer to him. 

“I suppose you’ve told Maria?”

You can’t hide the guilty smile on your lips. “If it makes a difference, she told me I needed to tell you right away. Pretty sure she was gonna tell you herself if I didn’t do it soon.” You mess with the collar of his shirt. 

“How long do we have?”

“Figure it’ll be May. If we get that far.” You say. Joel nods and something clenches around your heart, a need to protect him, warn him of the danger. “You know there’s a lot of risks. No guarantee…” 

“One day at a time.” He kisses your cheek but you see all the fear he’s pushing away plastered to his face like a movie poster. 

Joel asks you how you are, but other than that, you don’t talk about it. You feel like a weight has lifted off your shoulders but there’s an anvil hanging above your head, waiting to drop at a moment’s notice. 

You’ve outgrown your last pair of jeans. When you manage to trade with someone, they give you a look, like they know what’s going on inside your body. 

You take more naps, sometimes at the clinic, sometimes on the couch. You’re constantly tired. Maria brings dinner to the house every few days. She never asked, but you don’t complain. 

One evening you open your eyes to find Ellie staring down at you, worry etched in her features. It startles you at first. 

“You’ve been sleeping a lot lately,” She says. 

“You’ve noticed?” You pull yourself into a seated position. It feels like someone shoved a bunch of cotton into your mouth. You reach for the now room-temperature water on your end table. 

“You only take naps when you’re sick or depressed.” You raise an eyebrow at her. She crosses her arms as if to say she knows you’re neither right now. “What’s going on?”

You finish off the water. Despite its temperature, it helps. “I’m fine.” You reach out, placing a hand on her shoulder, but it does nothing. At 17 years old, Ellie is turning into a woman before your very eyes. At times, you’re convinced any semblance of childhood has been replaced with adulthood, but there are other times you still see the slivers of the girl you met two and a half years ago. Right now, she’s the one sitting in front of you.  

“Bullshit. What’s going on? You and Joel have been acting weird.”

Had things really been that different in the past couple of weeks? You open your mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. You and Joel hadn’t talked about telling anyone, which seemed silly. You can’t hide this forever. 

The door opens and Carter bursts in with Joel on his heels. A smile instantly finds your lips. 

“Mommy! Look!” He holds up a package of seemingly new Crayola crayons. 

Your eyes widen with exaggeration. “Wow, buddy. That’s awesome.”

“John Lacy found a bunch of them on patrol. They handed them out today,” Joel smiles. “Grabbed you some colored pencils.” He hands a set of non-crayola pencils to Ellie.

“Thanks.” She smiles but is still distracted by her worry over you. 

Carter crawls up beside you, eagerly pulling out the surprisingly intact crayons one by one. Joel leans over to kiss your cheek and tousles Ellie’s hair. She makes a face of displeasure but doesn’t fight him on it.

“You two look like you were talkin about somethin serious.”

“I was trying to figure out why the two of you have been acting weird,” Ellie says. 

Joel’s drops to unreadable. He looks at you and you shrug in response. “We have to tell them eventually.”

Worry makes its home on Ellie’s face. “So something is wrong with you.with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” You sigh deeply. You run your fingers over Carter’s head, kissing it. 

“You’re sure acting like there is,” She says impatiently.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimands, traces of his asshole voice laced into it. 

Ellie bites her lip. It looks like she might be fighting off tears as she looks directly at you. “I’m worried about you.”

You force a smile, leaning forward. Your forearms rest on your knees. One would think it would get easier to say each time. Instead, it’s like picking at a scab that’s not healed. You’re forcing yourself to say something, your brain isn’t ready to accept. “I’m pregnant.”

Ellie sits up straighter, her eyes widen with shock. “Oh wow…”

You wonder if the pictures fill her mind too. She saw Maria the night Elias was born. She saw the blood that covered you. Joel’s fingers brush over your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before they run over the back of your neck. You lean against him. “I’m sorry we worried you. We’re still getting used to the idea,” You say. 

She nods and then her arms around your neck. She basically knocks you backward with the force of it. “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

You squeeze her tightly, a faint lilt of humor in your voice. “Me too.”

Then her voice drops to a whisper right at your ear. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”  

Your head rests on Joel’s bare chest that night. The full moon sends light drifting through your window, casting the room in a cool glow. You play absentmindedly with the hair on his chest. His heart beats under your ear. The room is otherwise silent. 

“I told Tommy today.” 

You nod. 

“He wanted to know why I was so quiet. Told him I was always quiet.”

That pulls a smile across your lips. “Surprised he shut up long enough to notice.”

Joel chuckles. His arm around you tightens. His lips find your forehead. “I know we’re not ready to think too much about it.”

“Don’t think it’s something we can really ignore.” You nuzzle further into him. 

“Baby steps.” He kisses your nose this time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Baby steps? Really?” You flip onto your stomach while you still can.

He chuckles. “Poor word choice.”

You kiss his bicep and then his shoulder. He looks at you like your entire world and your stomach erupts in butterflies and twists in knots all at the same time. You still won’t let him say it, but you feel it every time he looks at you like that. 

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “What are these steps you had in mind?”

His thumb traces over your jaw and cheek. “Don’t bolt on me, okay?”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

He chuckles and then inhales deeply. “I think we should probably share a house. I figured you’d prefer to stay here, but it’s up to you.” He searches your eyes for any signs of panic or signs that you might shut down but finds nothing. In fact, you’re so calm that it’s hard to read. 

“It would be nice to have you officially living here,” you say. It feels right to say, to think about. “And Ellie if she wants.” 

“That was easier than I’d thought it would be.”

“You pretty much live here as is.” You turn on your side, nuzzling back into him. “I’ll miss your fireplace though.”

Joel smiles. “Guess I'll just have to keep you warm instead.” 

[vegafan69]

redacted drawing ideas because god prevented me from drawing

maybe i should pick up a pen. if anyone draws these ideas tag me PLEEEAAAASEEEE :333 or fics too??

some of these are nsfw ‼️ but i do leave a warning dw 🙏

─ ✦ vega

vega drinking whiskey seductively, but the whiskey is the sweet tang of sadism (thank aster for this ;))

prime | imperium vega and their appearance differences (imp!vega probably has more scars and sharper claws)

vega when he first coalesced vs modern vega vs reformed vega

NSFW ‼️ imp!vega putting the collar on pet :)

─ ✦ david

teen!david with gabe learning to shift

david crying at gabe’s hospital bed 🥰

the pack having fun as toddlers

that one button snapping scene in david’s valenweek ;)

david and angel’s encounter at the restaurant

─ ✦ asher

his terrified face at “make it two” YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUUUUT.

guy getting scared at asher’s big dog form

david helping asher with his tie before the wedding

NSFW ‼️ baaabe using toys on a blindfolded, tied up asher :3

dancer au !! i think he’d like nct and ateez :3

─ ✦ milo

MILO EATING THE RUNWAY SERVING THE RUNWAY!!!

model au. milo fits gucci. give this man a sponsorship rn

him crying to sweetheart in the shower after the inversion

him laughing at christian getting wreckt by morgan

─ ✦ gavin

him reading a book.

arrogant gavin. he’s a dick but i want it. he’s just so fucking hot

him noticing damihux’s feelings for one another

─ ✦ lasko

dying violently

imp!vega ending imp!lasko. holy fuck that scene made me bust everywhere

─ ✦ damihux

hux’s moms inviting damien for tea

practicing magic tgt

damien comforting hux crying at a sad movie

hux bringing random animals home and their home being an absolute zoo

huxley and david are gym buddies idc

─ ✦ porter

once again pushing my lawyer!porter agenda

him being vulnerable and confessing to treasure

porter’s life before turning

porter during the BA. those eyes preying on treasure

NSFW ‼️ him coming from the masochism :) he can cum on my face anytime

him and vincent beating the shit out of each other

─ ✦ vincent

him and porter beating the shit out of each other

his relationship with william, before and after the summit

him and lovely in the rain

lovely accidentally blowing up light bulbs

NSFW ‼️ pre-turning lovely using electric on vincent

─ ✦ sam

brushing darlin’s wolf fur

riding a horse. whats a cowboy without a horse

trying to figure out video games

darlin’ drooling at his c- tits :333

sam dancing to his favorite country tunes

teen!sam running away from an abusive home 😊

─ ✦ aaron

(pre-dating) aaron and smartass having the most intense screaming matches ever

aaron, eli and their partners hanging out

NSFW ‼️ smartass sucking him SO HAAAARD under the table like holy shit just BOBBING ON THAT CAWK MMGNFFGH 💦💦💦

─ ✦ the balance

blake dragging a scared sunshine into the basement

bestie dying and all of us laughing in the background

elliott and sunshine’s reunion

brachium yearning to be free again

d’deridahn breeding blake no im kidding. like. hes inside of blake. yk

bestie dying ahhahahha

─ ✦ caelum

playing on the switch :3

him as a mii. HOLY SHIT THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE I LUV MIIS

─ ✦ guy

yapping to honey about his murder mystery fiction ideas

making pizza

fool!guy with huge dark circles around his eyes

NSFW ‼️ him filming his playtime for honeyyy :)

okay that will be ENOUGH. if you do have suggestions rb this and lmk, i can make more :)

tagging my beautiful mutuals and people who can draw @deezbignutz @ashertickler @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @free-boundsoul @messenger-of-stupidity @youeverjustseeadog @yournewmusictaste @breezysuffers @capitalisticveins @dukecollinsbf @achios @porters-fangs @n0r @pagesupinflames @cozy-collins @stupd000 @ilovealotofwomen @laskosprettygirl @chmease @aurorialwolf @plaqying @marlowlvsu

[antigone-ks]

MARVEL MASTERLIST

LANTERN OF EVIL (IN MY PANTS)

Summary:

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

***

Or, Steve gets de-serumed and falls in love over art, old movies, and taxi dances.

Rating: E for Explicity, Eventually

Tags: Steve Rogers/Reader; Plus Size Reader; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); Tony Stark; Sam Wilson (Marvel); James “Bucky” Barnes; background Bucky/Nat - Freeform; Skinny Steve Rogers; Pre-Serum Steve Rogers; Post-Serum Steve Rogers; De-Serumed Steve Rogers; all of the combinations of serums and Steves; Slow Burn; Awkward Flirting; Awkward reader; Awkward Steve Rogers; neither of these goobers know what they’re doing; shameless Letterkenny reference; False Identity; horrible misunderstandings; love in art galleries; love on bridges; love on front porches; will earn rating in later chapters; I hope; inappropriate use of a history degree; Short Reader; Profanity; Fluff; Angst; Fluff and Angst; Smut; Oral Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Making Out; definitely third base; not all-the-way parking but pretty close; Biting; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; Vaginal Sex; Steve wants to be clear that this isn’t fucking; Making Love

Chapter One: The Greens of June

Chapter Two: July Flame, Just Out of My Reach

Chapter Three: The First Night in August

Chapter Four: Under an August Moon

Chapter Five: The Autumn Days Swung Soft

Chapter Six: September, We Danced

Chapter Seven: In September, When the Leaves Come Falling Down

Chapter Eight: And the Leaves that Are Green Turn to Brown

Chapter Nine: When the Autumn Leaves Start to Fall

Chapter Ten: Autumn in New York Brings the Promise of New Love

Chapter Eleven: I'm Still in Love with You on this Harvest Moon

Chapter Twelve: November Skies; I See You Everywhere 🔥

Chapter Thirteen: Remember November

Epilogue: An Eternal Beacon of Light

NELL'OSCURITÀ, ROSETTA

Summary:

“It’s been weeks since we were near a city and the fellas need to relax. They’re going to if she’s willing, unless you tell them not to. Just figured you might want first crack.”

“Does she look willing to you?”

Bucky gazes at the woman, winks when she meets his eye. She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t look away. “There’s willing and then there’s willing, Steve,” he says, and Steve is forcibly reminded that Bucky’s spent a lot more time here, a lot more time in a war zone, and he might be intimately familiar with all the things Steve’s barely imagined.

***

He's a soldier, just like all the rest, and a GI knows the value of a can of C-rations when he wants some attention.

**Heed the warnings & tags. This is not a romance.**

Rating: E for explicit and dark

Warnings: dubious consent

Tags: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s); Steve Rogers; James "Bucky" Barnes; Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan; Gabe Jones; Jacques Dernier; basically all of the Howling Commandos/original female character; but everyone except Steve is offscreen; Dubious Consent; Extremely Dubious Consent; Sexual Coercion; Rape/Non-con Elements; non-con sex work; Period Typical Attitudes; period typical attitudes about sex; period typical attitudes about STIs; which is to say not entirely accurate or polite; sex in wartime; Virgin Steve Rogers; Angst

Read "Nell'oscurità, Rosetta" here

MAIN MASTERLIST

You can also find me on AO3!

[jemariel]

Falling With Style

By Jemariel

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Words: 15,831

Tags: Wingfic, Dean has angel wings, Human Castiel in the Bunker, domestic fluff, wing grooming, flying lessons, love confessions, Cas has self-worth issues, first kiss/first time together, Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Hot Entity Summer

Written for the Profound Bond gift exchange for @eyesandwingsonlyafterdark !! I hope you enjoy 💙💚💖

Summary: Dean's facing a long summer cooped up in the bunker with nothing but his own brand new eight-foot angel wings for company. And Cas, of course. But the former angel is acting super weird about this whole thing, and Dean can't figure out why. He could sure use some help from the expert, though.

(In which Dean learns to fly, and Cas remembers what it's like.)

Read on ao3!

Excerpt and tag list below the cut, let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my tag list!

On this particular Thursday, Dean finds Cas in the library. Deep in the stacks, in a section that mostly contains books on angel lore, as far as Dean knows. He’s got an armload already and is peering with great concentration at the cobwebby shelves.

Jackpot.

Dean sidles closer, winching his wings in tight as they’ll go so they don’t knock anything off the shelves (again). Be a shame to give away the game.

Closer… closer… years of practice keep his feet and breathing quiet until he can count the hairs on the back of Cas’s neck. And then, just as Cas is juggling his books from one arm to the other—

“Whatcha lookin’ for?”

Cas jumps about a half a mile, and a dozen moth-eaten volumes go tumbling to the floor. Sam’s gonna kill him.

Worth it.

“Dean—” Cas exhales, a hand on his chest and murder in the set of his jaw. “What the hell are you doing?”

Dean grins and relaxes his wings a touch. “Just having a little fun,” he says, tongue between his teeth. For some reason, getting a rise out of Cas always gets him giddy. It’s like champagne bubbles under his skin, and ever since he sprouted these feathery intruders, that’s where he feels it the strongest. It’s like all the feathers are standing on end. It’s happened before. Like the time he pretended not to know or care about the Library of Alexandria for an entire hour, and Cas had gone on a righteously livid rant that left him flushed and sweaty. There’d been a chalkboard involved. Or the time Cas had wandered into the kitchen all pre-coffee grumpy in nothing but sweatpants while Dean was making eggs. That hadn’t exactly been Dean getting a rise out of him, but it gave him the goosebumps all the same.

Dean had chosen not to analyze it too closely.

With a glare in Dean’s direction, Cas crouches down to pick up the books, ruddy around the ears. It’s then—looking down at Cas’s head just below waist level—that Dean realizes just how close he’d positioned himself. His wings tingle harder, and his stomach does this funny little twist as he shuffles back to a more respectable distance. Suddenly, he has to swallow a whole mouthful of saliva and clear his throat before he can speak.

“Seriously, what are you doing back here?” he asks. Totally neutral. Completely normal.

Rising to his feet, Cas hands over one of the books. The spine looks like it’s decided to make a break for it, hanging on by a few bare horsehair threads. Dean actually feels bad for a minute before he reads the title.

“Alchemical Properties of Angelic Minutia? Sounds grim.”

Cas nods, still averting his gaze, fingering the dusty pages of a slim, gilt-edged volume. “I was hoping to uncover a solution to your… predicament.”

“Gabe said it would wear off on its own, right?”

One of Cas’s eyebrows climbs toward his hairline. “And you trust him?”

Dean snorts, handing the book back. “Not even half as far as I can throw him, but why would he lie about that?”

“I can think of a dozen reasons. But even assuming there is truth in that, why shouldn’t we try to”—he gestures vaguely with his laden arms—“encourage the process?”

Dean considers, crossing his arms as he leans against a bookshelf. The edge of the shelf digs into his bare bicep, and he shudders to think what kind of dust his feathers are picking up. “It’s not so bad,” he says. “Kinda grateful for the vacation.”

Cas squints at him in flat disbelief. “Dean, you have put up a protest every time Sam has left on a hunt for the last two months.”

“Yeah, well.” How does he explain this? “Netflix ain’t gonna binge itself, right? C’mon. I’ll make some popcorn.”

Cas nods vaguely as Dean slaps him on the shoulder and turns to escape the library. “Give me a moment to… reshelve these, I suppose.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Read more on ao3!

Tag list below:

@magnificent-winged-beast @starsinursa @silvie111 @gneisscastiel @yourspecialeyes @weathergirl83 @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow @maliciouslycreative @suckerfordeansfreckles @rosemoonweaver @paperwhitenarcissus @maiosaurus @naruhearts @super-powerful-queen-reyna @anironundomiel-blog1 @jasminrogue @onsarah @cassbutt-and-the-righteousbi @elanor-n-evermind @sharkfish @fangirlingtodeath513 @angelarbaugh @psychoticblackhappiness @holyllamabanana-blog @lanaserra @freckles-and-wings @7faerielights @casbean @destielhoneybee @feraladoration @deaneatscake @generaldeliciousness @bre95611 @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @lizleeillustration @hexentaenzerin @peacewhenuaredone-blog @nickelkeep @ellen-of-oz @malmuses @ltleflrt @archiival @idaaeri @kazshero @depairt

[mr-laveau]

"Laveau, how much angst did you give your darlin?" Good question! Here's an answer pt. 1

Tags: discussion death of parental figures, childhood rejection, not canon compliant, angst got dialled up to 11, this was all made pre-reveal of the canon timeline, Highschool!David/Darlin, just be prepared to understand that I put my darlin through some shit.

Darlin who turns 13 and finds out they're a shifter. Their local department branch threatens to take them from their parents if they cannot find a pack. Their parents pack some bags and go looking

Darlin who was rejected from every other pack because they were seen as too much of a liability to be introduced to any pack. Packs either couldn't accept new shifters, didn't want to train a humanborn shifter, didn't want to accept an autistic child into the pack or simply made up excuses not to take Darlin in.

Darlin who watches their parents struggle with getting them into a pack, driving from state to state, trying to learn about magic and keep their child safe as they search for a place to help them develop as a shifter.

Darlin who leanred to use their magic on their own at a young age so they weren't a burden to potential packs who could take them in.

Darlin whose parents, Darius and Renko Lancer fought tooth and nail with Gabe Shaw and Frank Talbot to get their kid into a pack despite not being empowered.

Darlin whose family is accepted and took up residence at the edge of pack territory in a log cabin. They make it work

Darlin who's introduced to the pack at 15, it has been two years since Darren Lancer first found out he was a shifter and he is better at using his magic than most of the adults in the pack. He is seen as a prodigy and they quickly make friends with David, Milo and Asher. They are finally given a place to be themselves and have friends.

Darren has stayed with the pack for six months when they get the call during class that their parents were involved in an accident in their home. He runs home immediately and sees the scene. They learn that a rival pack attacked their home for being too close to their territory at the boundary of the shaw pack. Their parents fu=ought back and were killed in the incident. The department promises to look into the matter. The case runs cold.

Darren stays a month in his parents' cabin after their deaths. Nothing was touched. Darren has not cleaned it since their parents died. There is dried blood in some spots where the department did not reach. The smell of iron fills Darren's lungs and he has not been to school since. There are rumours about Darren spread by some of the adults of the pack. They think Darren has broken psychologically, they think that Darren is sick and they eventually call the authorities to have Darren taken out of the pack and placed in foster care. It is not successful and Gabe Shaw intervenes. A week after, Darren is placed under the care of Marie and Colm Greer. He is not officially adopted and has refuted the option of adoption. He is sixteen when he arrives into their home, his birthday passed and he didn't tell anyone. He instead spent it alone, cleaning his parents' cabin.

Darren Lancer gets into a fight with Christian after he takes their dad's jacket from them to put it to wash. He has a broken nose and a scar on his chest. The pack disapproves of their actions and threatens removal. Gabe however shows Darren how to clean and maintain leather jackets 1 month and 2 weeks after the death of their parents.

The department has Darren in holding after they were caught fighting with the rival pack that attacked their parents. Five wolves have had their limbs mangled and may not walk well again, Two wolves are in critical condition and a wolf is too traumatised to give testimony. They are found out to be the same wolves that attacked Darren's parents and Gabe intervenes to keep Darren out of trouble 1 month 3 weeks after the death of their parents.

Marie scolds Darren and admits them into therapy. Darren and Milo grow closer as a result of Colm's bad habits worsening. A month after the death of their parents, as marie cries alone in the kitchen, Darren sits next to her and hugs her. 2 months after feeling robbed, Darren feels connected to the Greers.

Darren starts to learn guitar and music as an outlet after being suggested by his therapist. Marie reminds Milo and Darren to keep it down a few nights but she's glad to see that they're getting along better. Darren rejoins pack meetings and social gatherings with the pack 3 months after the death of their parents. David makes friends with them much to the disapproval of the rest of the pack's adults. Gabe invites Darren over for dinner.

4 months after, Darren is officially dating David Shaw. Gabe invites Darren over again, and again, and again. Marie has taught Darren how to cook, clean and how to trust. She has taught him how to defend himself emotionally and physically. Gabe has taught Darren how to run free in the forests nearby as a wolf, he's taught Darren how to tussle and David is there to learn with him. Milo, David and Asher invite Darren to hang out regularly. Milo and Asher feign disgust seeing them kiss but they're glad seeing them both happy. David says he loves them and Darren isn't shy to say it too.

Darren turns 17 and David asks him to senior prom. It's one of the best nights he's had. They dance with Milo and pull stunts with Asher but the final dance is reserved for David before they leave the dance and spend the rest of the night together. It's been 5 months and Darren feels at peace.

[angelsanarchy]

Like A Pretty Boy: Gabe x Y/N Midi Series- PRT 3

Tagging: @icarus-star@kappasbbgirl@starry-eyed-wild-child@luzclarita57@bonesgirl11 @444rockstargf blondiezluvbrowniezpretty-girl-bloggfallin444niyaliquidsmoothdomme@rootin-tootin-pootinethical-cain-vinnell3viathan-sin666crowfullofwoe@8klil@spoilingthemilk @romanroyapoligist anakinskywalkerssgfzoloftsh4wtywomenloverlmaoberrymeringuepostselvira-aarseth @agornotsworld

Gabe stares at his sisters name on the phone screen again. She's called four times in the last two days. He really doesn't want to answer but he knows if he puts it off any longer, she might actually try and come to his apartment.

"This is Gabe." He answered with a sigh.

"Oh please don't try to sound so put out by answering a phone call from your sister." Ruth carried a tone as if Gabe thinking his time was important was a joke.

"Well you've called a million times, is something wrong?" Gabe asked not wanting this to be a long conversation.

"I want you to come and talk to Jared. I can't get him to talk to me about what happened in school and I figured maybe he would talk to you. David doesn't handle...those sort of things well." His sister explained.

"What? David doesn't remember being a teenage boy?" Gabe teased.

"No I just don't talk about my feelings like some fruit loop." Gabe heard David's voice over the line.

"You know it's polite to tell someone when they're on speaker phone." Gabe grumbled.

"Oh please don't talk to me about etiquette." Another swipe at him to try and put herself above him in some form or fashion. Ruth always did that. She never used to be like this but ever since Gabe decided to go to a more progressive college, she treated him like he was some sort of pretentious liberal asshole. She thought because she was married, lived on the other side of town and brought a kid into the world that somehow meant her life is more fulfilled.

He hadn't realized he had been ignoring her ranting while he got lost in this thoughts.

"Ruth...you're rambling. What's going on with Jared?" Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He was suspended from school. He won't tell me what happened and keeps blowing it off like it's no big deal but the way his ignorant liberal principal talked to me, it seems like she was calling him a white suprimist or something. Did you know one of his classmates came out as a lesbian. Can you believe that?" She said it with such disgust.

"So? What's that got to do with Jared?" Gabe asked confused.

"Well she might as well shoved it in his face like she's a freaking pre-teen, what the hell does she know about who she's sexually attracted to." Ruth had never talked to Gabe about his sexual preference. She just constantly told him he needed to get a woman in his life so he could settle down and become a real adult.

Apparently paying bills and having his own place wasn't adult enough. He needed to have a white picket fence in upper Manhattan with a wife and a job in finance apparently. All the things that Gabe loathed.

"Baby! I've got dinner!" Y/n called out from the front door and Gabe's stomach dropped.

"Baby? Was that your roommate?" Ruth asked confused.

"Yeah they were talking to the cat...Baby like the girl from Dirty Dancing." Gabe panicked as Y/n stood confused in the doorway as he tried to cover.

"Sounds like your roommate might be a bit fruity too." David said with a laugh.

"Look I will check the train schedule and see if I can come by sometime this week. It's an hour there and an hour back so don't get your hopes up okay?" Gabe said quickly.

"GABE! It's important! Your nephew needs you." Ruth practically shouted.

"Fine...I'll be there Wednesday." Gabe relented.

"Thank you little brother. I'll see you then." Ruth sounded accomplished as she hung up the phone after getting what she wanted. Gabe chucked his phone onto the bed and looked over at Y/n who stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"So when did we get a cat? I mean I've asked for one for the last few months but-" Y/n started but Gabe shook his head.

"They could hear you call me baby on the phone. I didn't want them to suspect...anything." Gabe watched Y/n's face shift into disappointment.

"Great...well now I won't be getting a cat because I refuse to support that ridiculous cover story." Y/n took his jacket off and hung it on the back of the door.

"It's not a cover-"

"Gabe...we've been friends for seven years, together for four and moved in together for two and I've never met your family, not even as your roommate, as you say, which yes I've heard you call me that by the way." Y/n called Gabe out and he frowned.

"You're more than that and you know it." Gabe reached out to him.

"I'd hope so. I never fucked any of my old roommates so I'd say I'm more too." Y/n's words hurt Gabe.

"Please...stop for a second." Gabe was holding his hands in his own.

"I know how my family would act and I don't ever want that ignorance or hatred to bleed onto what we have here. You are it for me. You are my partner and I want to protect you from anything and anyone that could possibly hurt you." Gabe kissed the back of Y/n's hand and Y/n gave a soft smile.

"That worked the first year on me...not this far in sweetheart." He gave Gabe's hands a squeeze before pulling away.

"Dinner is on the table. I've suddenly lost my appetite." Y/n walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself as Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his closeted status was a huge weight on their relationship but his fear terrified him. The idea of losing his entire family, despite the moral and ethical differences between them, made him feel like it would be the end of the world if they knew.

He wishes things were easier but all the years they had been together, this was the only thing that kept them apart.

[between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place]

fic writer tag game

Thank you for tagging me @somanywords 🥰

Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

I'm doing favorite = most enjoyable to write & reread. Self-indulgence, baby!

📱🔥Spelling Out Desire (post-endgame stucky fix-it)

With the Snap undone, the stones returned and the shield passed on, Steve Rogers would ask for nothing more than a quiet, simple life for them in Brooklyn—much like the one they had before. There’s just one thing he hasn’t factored into his plan: Bucky. “If you want a life as someone other than Captain America, maybe you should get to know people as someone else. As Steve Rogers. Or—as anybody.” “That's your grand plan: catfishing people on a dating app?” Or: the one where Steve Rogers experiences 21st century online dating and learns some things about himself along the way. This is a story about guilt, forgiveness and rebuilding.

🚙🌙a black sky prickled with small lights (post-endgame fix-it cont.)

There's this: The July heat. A wide open road. An obnoxious country song on the radio. Bucky in the driver’s seat. Or: Two hundred-year-old men and their Great American Road Trip.

☣🦾it’s bloody and raw (but I swear it is sweet) (stucky, post-apocalypse au)

The rifle was a hard, solid line across his back. Somewhere above his head the sun was still floating high in the sky. Everything further than ten paces was covered in the same brown, putrid soup. They called it fog, but it was more like a gaseous sludge rolling up from the bay, the smell of burning chemicals and garbage left out to rot on a hot summer day. In a world that's gone to hell, everybody needs something to anchor them in the moment. Sometimes that thing is the person you thought you'd let go. A rescue mission gone badly might be what tips the scales.

🕺🕺East Coast Swing (pre-war stucky)

“Please?” “Quit it, Buck.” Bucky pulled out the second chair and straddled it with his elbows resting on the table. If Steve looked up he’d no doubt see him batting his eyelashes. (They were longer and thicker than any girl’s he’d seen, which wasn’t really fair any way you looked at it.) Some moments that define a relationship. And Bucky, who just wants a dance with his best guy.

🏰👻Don't let the past haunt you, my dear (wartime stucky feat. spooky season)

The sight of the castle with its towers and turrets shifted him into a state of surreality; like they'd somehow stepped onto the pages of a novel, Arthurian knights or undead Romanian nobility waiting behind those walls. Dernier was the first to open his mouth, letting out a string of rapid French interspersed with curses. He switched the grip on his gun to his left hand and crossed himself. "He's sayin' it's haunted," Gabe translated helpfully.   Or, finding quiet moments in the dark.

I feel like I missed most of these when they went around so I'm just tagging some ppl and would love for you to point me to your posts if you already did this 😘 @dharmasharks @voylitscope @hipsterdiva @dreamsinthewitchouse @sparkagrace @cable-knit-sweater

[yourmateyoya]

Are they a human, ghoul, synth, or something else?

Human

Are they a canon main character? (Lone Wander, Courier Six, etc.)

She is The Courier. Of course she’s the main character because everyone relies on her to do their dirty work.

What is their SPECIAL

S 6 P6 E 5 C8 I 8 A 5 L9

What perks or tagged skills do they have?

Black widow, bloody mess, intense training, fortune finder,

What is their highest skill? Lowest?

Lowest: Survival

Highest: speech

Were they born pre-war or post-war?

Post war

Do they wish they lived before the war / could go back to life before the war?

She kind of romanticize living in pre-war times.

Did they live in a vault? If not, have they been inside of one?

No she grew up in the ruins of the Texas State fair. But she has been to multiple vaults. She absolutely hates vault 22.

Where did they grow up? Where do they currently reside?

The grew up in the Dallas , specifically the ruins of the state fair. When she was in her early twenties she lived in Austin for a bit. She moved to Nevada after hearing that you can get a lot of work there as a courier.

What languages) do they speak?

English and Spanish

What type of education have they received?

Mostly basic stuff like reading and writing and how to do basic math. But she did need extra help on that stuff due to her learning disabilities.

Can they read, write, and/or do math?

Can read just find trouble reading some really long words or paragraphs. Despite loving to write corny, romance novels she has a lot of trouble spelling. Is actually really good at math.

What is the most frightening experience they have endured?

Going to quarry junction.

What is their fondest memory?

Reactivating Ed-d.

What is their proudest moment / accomplishment?

Killing a mother and alpha Deathclaw with Arcade and Ed-d.

What is their biggest regrets

Not being able to save Gabe

Do they have a job? How do they make a living?

Most Courier work but the occasional job here and there.

Do they have any disabilities, mutations, or implants / enhancements? Do they have any chronic illnesses?

Autism and dyslexia

Who (or what) are they emotionally closest to?

Benny and their daughter.

Who do they consider to be their family?

Benny, Ed-d, and her and Benny's daughter.

Do they travel alone or with a companion?

Is constantly traveling with Ed-d. Also travels around a lot with Arcade.

Do they have any pets?

Roxie

How do they feel about physical touch / affection?

She loves to cuddle especially with Benny and Ed-d.

Do they have a romantic partner or partners?

Her dearest Benny!

Are they quick to trust others?

Can be too quick to trust people especially if they’re nice to her.

How would others describe them / their disposition?

Some people describe her as Marilyn Monroe’s reincarnation. Others describe her as a kind but an oblivious person at times.

What faction(s) are they a member of / allied with?

Vages, the Great Khans, The Followers, And formally the NCR.

What faction(s) do they despise?

The legion.

What is their moral alignment / karma?

Very good

What is their goal in life? What impact would they like to leave when they're gone?

Help as much people as they possibly can.

What is their go-to weapon or weapon class?

Q-35 matter modulator.

What is their fight-or-flight response

Not very good at dodging bullets so fight!

What armor / clothing do they typically wear?

She wears her NCR ranger uniform but usually on the strip she wear spring time outfit along with her good luck bonnet.

Do they have power armor training?

Still getting trained.

Have they ever saved someone's life? Have they ever killed someone?

Kills in self defense and saved Benny from the Legion.

What is the worst injury they have?

A concussion from a missile on Black MT.

What is their favorite radio station?

Radio New Vegas.

What is their favorite song?

🎶 MAD ABOUT THE BOOOYYY🎶

What is their favorite type of weather?

Nice cold rain.

What is their favorite time of the day?

Night Time so she can see all the stars.

What is their favorite wasteland creature?

Despite her killing multiple of them, Deathclaws and also big horns as well.

What is their favorite meal and drink?

Sunset sarsaparilla and Fancy lad cake snacks

What is their favorite smell?

Wet dirt

Do they have any specific hobbies or talents?

Writing and singing are her hobbies.

Do they play any sports? How about board games or card games?

can’t play caravan to save her life.

Do they enjoy reading?

Doesn’t read that much.

Do they collect anything?

Teddy bears and toy rocket ship!

What items) do they always have on their person?

A teddy bear.

Do they travel by foot or by other means?

travel by foot terrible at driving

Do they own a Pip-boy? If so, how did they get it?

Can they swim?

Yes they can and she loves to swim.

What do they think of the ocean?

taste very salty.

Do they prefer showers or baths

Warm bath with lavender bubbles

Are they past, present, or future oriented?

She’s always worried about the future. especially her own daughters future.

How do they feel about robots? (Eyebots, Mister Handys, Sentry Bots, etc.)

Love those silly little guys.

What is a sensation / texture they cannot stand?

Sand it's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

Do they believe in luck? Do they have a good luck charm?

Some believe in luck and think her bonnet is a type of charm.

Do they idolize anything / anyone?

She idolizes someone by the name of the chosen one. has no idea who they are, but thinks they’re cool.

Are they religious? Spiritual?

Grew up in Texas, so there are a lot of religious people around. But never really believed in religion.

What are their thoughts on chems and alcohol?

Got addicted to alcohol once. Is very scared to use them.

Do they have any weaknesses or struggle with any vices?

Trying to get missions done can be a pain in the ass for them.

Do they need / wear glasses?

Wears Sun glasses.

How / where do they generally sleep?

basically, anything with a mattress.

Describe their living space. (How do they decorate it? Does it have running water and/or electricity? Etc.)

lives with Benny at the Tops casino. Has a lot of stuffed animals around.

Describe their eyes.

Dirty brown

[clubnate]

I am not the anon who followed for cobra and now will accept my fate as a tai fan, but please, please, please explain the connection between The Academy Is and Cobra Starship.

Unabridged is preferred tbh.

i got 2 anons about this and this is literally the thing i'm the most insane about omg ok warning this is gonna be long cause i'm just gonna include everything ive got on my google doc about this

TLDR; same record labels, snakes on a plane, lots of tours together, music videos, webshows and general friendship is the conncection

It starts pre-cobra with midtown. iirc, tai were just fans of midtown pre-tai and in the early days, they're from chicago and came up in the same scene as fob, mike carden (tais guitarists) old band had fob open for them and he was even asked to join fob in an early version of it, so fob, tai and midtown all eventually become friends which is when they met gabe and eventually they toured with midtown twice in 04-05.

2006- midtown dies in 05 and from the ashes rises COBRA STARSHIP. Cobras gets signed to fueled by ramen and decaydance records, which is the same 2 labels as TAI. while gabe's working on the music, tai's bassist, sisky finds out about snakes on a plane and suggested submitting their song to be on the soundtrack. Then william beckett the singer of TAI suggested to gabe that this would be perfect for cobras and he should put a song forward, which he does. Gabe makes some changes to the lyrics, adds william, travie and maja and Bring it (snakes on a plane) was born. (source) Sometime around 2006-2005 gabe briefly featured in the music video for 'the phrase that pays'

2007- things ramp up and they start touring together. Both bands are supporting acts on the honda civic 2007 tour and are featured at 3 separate Decaydance fest shows in Paris, Kohn and London. They also do a series of international festivals together like reading and leeds, pukkelpop, summer sonic, ect AND they do an australia tour just the 2 of them, this was all through summer. At the end of the year cobras jump on TAI's headliner tour, they weren't supposed to butviva la cobra came out earlier than planned so they had no tour to promote it so tai let them open for the last month or so. Both were also apart of the MTVu campus takeover this year. TAI had a webshow and cobra are featured multiple times from 2007-2008, this is actually where they got the idea for cobra cam and even stole TAI's camera man to film it. also somewhere someone released official merch that included cobra, TAI and fob that said 'gabe is not a ynonym for sisky' and they promoted it together.

2008- Both bands are part of the lineup for warped tour this year, snakes was played a lot and when suarez had to leave the tour for a couple days, sisky and the butcher (TAI's drummer) covered for him. TAI's album was released in august and featured backing vocals from Ryland, Alex and Gabe, and every member of cobra is mentioned in the thank yous. Right after warped both bands go to australia and opened for panic at the disco (bonus info: victoria, sisky and ryan went bar hopping for ryans 22nd), then right after they go and do a japan tour with the hush sound and the cab. For welcome to the new administration, suarez remixed TAI's song 'automatic eyes'

2009 onwards- Things slowed down after this. The butcher is briefly featured in the good girls go bad music video. in 2011 both band play at the 15th anniversary of fueled by ramen, this ended up being TAI's last show before they split. After they split, butcher was the drum tech for cobra from 2011-2012. When TAI had a reunion in 2015, suarez played bass for sisky with carly rae jepsen so he could play on their reunion tour. Also around 2015 Gabe and Mike started TAG music together, i think mike has left since then though.

Extras: at every TAI show since their 2022 reunion they have played snakes on a plane, with gabe or without. Gabe also always does backing vocals for the song 'classifieds' if he's there. Sisky used to do travies rap during snakes if he wasn't there, he did it a bunch on warped 2008.

Sisky commented this during cobrakkah in 2021 and i think about it a lot tbh. I think they were just best friends who got to tour the world together in their youth and are still friends and still hold a lot of love for eachother :,)

hope that wasn't too much, i'm pretty sure i covered everything that i know about. Decaydance is my favourite thing so i have a google doc of all their connections so i remember them all :D

something to add would be that TAI are opening for fob on the 3rd in LA and a few cobras live there, so i wouldn't be suprised if they show up for snakes on a plane!

EDIT: if you want photos of any of these things I mentioned I probably have some so please ask! and if you don't want to, search my tag #thepolycule and there's a bunch of photos of decaydance bands hanging out together, including TAI and cobra

[samwpmarleau]

seven paragraph sunday

tagged by @thelettersfromnoone based on a framework prompt i found in the tags from an eternity ago

Unfortunately, what Skye had hoped would be a relatively quick assignment seems unlikely. Whatever subversive activity the Reyes brothers may be getting up to, they aren’t obvious about it, and their lives are, well, boring. Robbie goes to work then comes home. Gabe goes to class then comes home, with the occasional deviation for a sanctioned school event.

Sometimes Robbie heads out after midnight to various places around the city, but she hasn’t been able to get a read on where yet. She also doubts that committing something as trivial as curfew violation alone would be enough reason for him to land himself on HYDRA’s list. Her tracking skills are better than most, yet it’s like he disappears into thin air. It’s frustrating as hell.

She makes a game of it, guessing what kind of subversive activity they’re getting up to — eyes on the ground for the Resistance, most likely, with the low profile they keep — and what their powers could be. Ferrokinesis or run-of-the-mill super strength for Robbie, maybe, which she imagines would provide a significant advantage for a mechanic. Perhaps technopathy for Gabe, or telekinesis, permitting him to make mincemeat of anyone he chooses. (Though, she’s seen his transcripts, dating to pre-Cambridge; really, he makes mincemeat of everyone already.)

Even if she did know what Inhuman powers they could have, however, there’s no telling what their current threat level is. Controlling someone who’s only able to bend a paper clip is very different than one who can turn venous iron into cadmium. Someone who merely upgrades their wheelchair is easier to subdue than one who could shut down an entire city’s electrical grid.

For as skilled as she is with weapons, she acknowledges that against some Inhumans she would be up shit’s creek. Which is why The Doctor’s work is so important, to find ways to neutralize those threats before terrigenesis even takes place. Save humanity from those who would inevitably use their powers for harm.

When not theorizing on potentially nonexistent powers, Skye spends her time trying to create new ways to say, “Absolutely fuck-all happened today” on her daily logs. She’d been given this assignment, she’d wanted this assignment, yet she has nothing to show for it. If that trend continues, someone else will get the case instead and she’ll be relegated to her cubicle aggregating tiplines and radio chatter.

So, this, but with worse scenery and having to deal with Pinsky, who is truly the bane of her existence. If the two of them got into a standoff with an Inhuman, she’s not wholly sure she’d step in.

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

28 DAYS: CHAPTER SEVEN

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given a choice to go to rehab for 28 days or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter warnings/tags: mentions of underage sex work

Words in this chapter: 3,100

Author’s notes: Allegedly, the Dean v. Dean scene from “Dream A Little Dream Of Me” was supposed to be John v. Dean but JDM couldn’t make the schedule work. That got me thinking about how else I could use that pivotal scene in this AU. You’ll see that scene sort of sprinkled throughout this chapter.

Thanks for your patience as I adjust to my new work schedule. I have the next two chapters as well — they just need some marinating and beta-ing.

Many thanks to @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker for pre-reads and for being my friends.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“I do hope he makes it.” Rowena waves as she, Gabe, Dean, and Meg watch Crowley make his way to the exit.

Crowley turns before walking out the door, tossing Rowena a nod before flipping two backward Peace signs to either side of her, effectively telling Dean, Gabe, and Meg to fuck themselves.

“Rude,” Meg murmurs into her coffee as Gabe wraps an arm around Rowena’s slight shoulders.

“Ya know, Ro, statistically, only three-tenths of us make it,” Gabe says. “So it’s better for us if he doesn’t.” 

Meg does a spit take of coffee while Dean barely keeps his own in his mouth to swallow. “Fuckin’ savage, Gabe,” Dean chuckles, slapping Meg on the back. “Breathe through it, sweetheart.”

“That smarmy dick — affectionate,” Gabe pretends to assure Rowena that the insult is meant with the best of intentions, “deserves the very best.” 

Rowena turns and sniffles into Gabe’s embrace.

There’s a lot of affection within their small group. Dean’s stopped questioning the fraternizing rule, though, because Meg does wonders for the tension in his neck and shoulders with her tiny little hands.

“I’m gonna hit the gym. Anybody wanna join? Dean-o?” Meg tosses her empty cup in the garbage before arching and stretching to make her spine pop and crack.

Part of his recovery from addiction and his injuries is structured and supervised exercises. It’s done nothing for his persistent hard-on, but it helps with boredom, anger, and the satisfaction of succeeding at something, even if it’s not much.

Dean turns his back on Gabe and Rowena’s canoodling. “Sounds good. What time?”

“Ten?” Meg claps her hands together enthusiastically. 

“Yep,” Dean answers, dumping his cup into the trash before they go their separate ways — Meg to the women’s sleeping quarters and Dean to the men’s.

It’s been 10 days since the fire. It feels like weeks to Dean. He read once that it takes 21 days to create a habit and 90 to make it stick. He always thought that seemed arbitrary, but he’s starting to believe it because his day-to-day here is quickly becoming routine.  

When he gets to his room, he finds Jack in bed with Red Hood Arsenal Vol. 1, covered in candy wrappers.

Dean arches a brow as he yanks his drawer open. “You ever get outta bed this mornin’?”

“Not really feeling social today,” Jack murmurs, gnawing on a piece of chocolate and nougat. 

Dean digs around for a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt for the gym. “Well, ya should eat somethin’ real before they close the kitchen.”

He shoves the drawer closed before turning to face his roommate.

Jack keeps his eyes on his comic as he replies. “You’ve only been wearing that sign for a day. Have you already forgotten my eating habits are none of your business?”

Dean drops his eyes to the sign around his neck as he tongues the back of his teeth before roughly grinding them.

“Nope. Haven’t forgotten.” His stomach tightens and flips, and his face starts to heat. “Ya know... I just-”

“Still none of your business.”

Jack’s tone, assertive nature, and blunt words make Dean tense. He wants to yell. Yelling relieves tension for him. Punching things also relieves tension, so Dean decides to keep his mouth shut and get dressed to work out, even if he can only punch with one fist right now.

He passes Billie’s office on his way to the gym. Her door’s open, so he pokes his head inside. “Hey.”

She silently and expectantly looks up from her desk, pen frozen in her hand.

“Just...” Dean juts a thumb over his shoulder as he steps fully into the doorway. “Headed to the gym. Thought I’d say hi.”

Billie raises her eyebrows and chin before nodding. “Well, hi.”

Her less-than-enthused response further agitates him. “Man, I’m just pissin’ everybody off today,” he mutters.

“You’re not pissing me off.” Billie carefully sets her pen aside before pushing her chair away from her desk. “Come in, Dean.”

Dean walks inside, feeling rejected. It’s uncomplicated when he thinks about the reality of the last 15 minutes. These people are practically strangers, Jack’s a 17-year-old kid, and Billie’s a fucking shrink so he shouldn’t give a shit what they think. Yet these perceived slights would’ve sent him straight to a bottle of pills or whiskey and searching for pussy outside these walls.

“Your door was open. I just thought I’d say hi instead of just walkin’ by like you don’t exist.” He walks over to her designated visiting area and takes a seat.

“And that’s very kind of you.” Billie settles in one of her chairs across from him.

“So then why’re you just like ‘hi???’ like I’m annoying you,” he asks.

He fully realizes that he sounds like he’s trying to start a fight, but he does nothing to dial it back.

“You’re not annoying me. I wanted to be sure you didn’t need something first.” She pauses. “Did something happen with Jack or Meg?”

Dean shrugs. “Jack acted like I tried to set his stuffed dragon on fire when I reminded him the kitchen was about to close.”

She isn’t making notes right now, which relieves Dean. “Can you expand on that?” 

“Well, he brought up my stupid-ass sign.” He flicks the sign making it flop against his chest ineffectually.

Billie nods, appearing to also curb a smile of amusement, which lightens his shit mood for some reason. “That’s what the sign’s for, Dean.”

He scoffs. “To repeatedly remind me that I’m a pain in the ass?”

Billie narrows her eyes and sighs. “No. The signs serve many purposes, none of which are to remind you that you’re a pain in the ass. They help maintain boundaries and remind everyone to focus on themselves and their own recovery.”

Dean chews the inside of his cheek. “So, if the 17-year-old kid I’m rooming with starves to death, I’m just supposed to keep my eyes on my own prize.”

He’s being dramatic. He knows he’s being dramatic. It’s a great outlet, though, with the absence of his other sorely missed vices.

“First of all,” Billie begins to count her retorts on her fingers, “Jack isn’t going to starve to death-”

“I’ve never seen him eat anything but candy!” Dean cuts her off with exasperation.

“Dean.” Billie drops her hands in her lap.

“Sorry.”

Expressing his frustrations and regrets isn’t something he’s comfortable doing because he never learned to do it any other way than physically fighting, fucking, or getting wasted. That’s not BIllie’s fault; it’s just facts.

Billie calmly begins again. “He will not starve. Nor will he learn to feed and care for himself adequately if we don’t let him figure that out on his own.”

Dean sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Can’t save everybody,” he mutters.

“Correct,” Billie answers. “What else?”

“I need to focus on my own recovery.”

“Yes.”

He brings his gaze back to hers. “Sorry for...” He waves his hand in the air as an explanation. “Barging in, whining...”

“No apologies necessary. You aren’t whining, you have questions. Bucking the system demonstrates healthy curiosity.” Billie peers at him above the tent of her fingers. “You know, some might assume, as a Marine Corps veteran raised by a Marine Corps veteran that you’d follow orders without a second thought. But you don’t.” 

Dean stares back quietly. He and Billie have made progress. He trusts her to do what she says she’s there to do. The problem right now is she’s probing a scab he isn’t willing to expose.

“Well, I got people who look to me for answers — my team, my kid.”

Billie nods. “Yes. And you’ve amassed a group of people here who also see you as a leader, and as a natural leader, it’s important to be mindful of your intentions and of the impression you leave on others.”

“When you say it like that, I feel like a fuckin’ asshole.”

Billie shakes her head. “You’re not an asshole. Go to the gym.” She motions to his outfit as she stands. “During our scheduled session this afternoon, we can talk more about that.”

As he gets up and walks to the door, Dean’s chest feels heavy even as his heart spits and sputters.

The gym doesn’t help clear his mind or calm his anxiety. He’s stuck in the spiral of memories from his last argument with John. 

“I’ve been back for five days, Dad, can I just get my bearings before you start-”

“Your brother is leaving, and you won’t lift a finger to stop it. All you’ve done is whine about how you’re gonna miss him when he leaves!”

“He got a full ride.”

“And you’re gonna what, help him pack?! Came back from that war as mindless and obedient as an attack dog — good soldier and nothin’ else.”

That’s fucking rich, coming from John, who only ever treated Dean like a soldier. Dean learned so much more about life and relationships over there than John ever taught him.

“That’s not true.”

“No? What else ya got, then, kid? Your car? That’s mine. Your favorite leather jacket? Mine. Your music? Mine.”

John’s ever-panning searchlight of fury has all but lost Sam and is fully focused on Dean. While Dean doesn’t love being under his dad’s scrutiny, he hopes that his presence buys Sam a few more minutes to get his shit together and get out.

“Your entire fuckin’ personality is me and that kid brother of yours.”

Dean’s slumped against the living room wall with his dad looming over him, red-faced, sweating, and spitting rage.

“You’re fuckin’ obsessed with keeping us here. Sam was built for somethin’ better-”

“I’m obsessed?” John rapidly blinks, clutching his left arm. “How the fuck did you handle not havin’ little Sammy on your heels in Afghanistan? You got nothin’ outside of this family, and you know it.”

“You’re fuckin’ drunk and high.” Dean shakes his head and pushes away from the wall. “You need to sit down.”

“Listen here, you ungrateful little shit-”

“Yell all you want, I’m still leaving!” Sam strides into the living room, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

Dean takes a step forward, and John takes a step back.

“All that shit you dumped on me about protecting Sam? That was your shit.” He pokes a finger into John’s chest. “You’re the one who couldn’t protect your family, and now that we’re adults with our own fucking lives, you can’t handle it.”

“Keep talkin’, asshole.” John is panting heavily, and his face is turning darker red. “You think you know what it’s like to raise a kid-”

“Yeah! I do!” Dean walks John right back to the couch where John drops to sit. “You were never fucking here for Sam, I always was. All you ever did was train me, boss me around — Daddy’s blunt little instrument — I was never your kid.” 

“Oh, please...” John groans, his words slurring as he squeezes his arm harder and he drops his chin to his chest.

“But Sam... Sam you doted on. And now he’s leaving. Talk about what’re you gonna do now, huh? What’re you gonna do, John?”

“Dean...” Sam’s voice is hollow.

“Geez, what happened to you between finally gettin’ rid of that cranky old queen and now?” Meg asks.

Dean breathes and grits his teeth as he mentally counts his wall push-ups. “It’s a whole thing.”

He doesn’t want to get into John with Meg. Not right now. The thought of getting into his history with his dad at all makes him feel like jumping out the window.

Meg furrows her brow and nods. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

Dean shoots her a look, thinking she’s teasing him. What he finds when he really takes her in, though, is so raw and delicate that he can barely stand to look at her. 

“Yeah, I’m my own worst nightmare.” He completes his wall exercises and eases to the floor for the rest.

“Don’t do that,” Meg says. She stands over him with her hands on her hips.

Dean tosses his hands in the air in surrender. “I’m kidding. OK?” He starts his hip stretches and the pain carries a signal of satisfaction and success to his brain.

“No, you aren’t.”

Dean groans at the stretch. “What’s with you? This is our thing. The self-deprecation thing.”

Meg sighs and drops to the floor beside him to do some of her own exercises. “Dean, you’re one of our 2.1.”

Dean shakes his head. “What?”

“I did the math; three-tenths of seven is 2.1.”

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes so hard they take his whole body with them. “Are we including Crowley in that seven?” He goes back to carefully lifting and stretching his hips.

“Yeah... better odds for the rest of us that way.” Meg twists her spine so she’s facing Dean with her knees pointing in the opposite direction.

Dean snorts, and Meg chuckles as they watch each other try to get better.

Then her face softens as well as her voice. “You’re gonna make it, Dean. Because you’re a fuckin’ badass.” 

Dean swallows back a lump from trying to form in his throat. 

“You’re here because of a blip.” She rolls her watery eyes. “You are better than this. You’ll come out on the other side stronger because you’re already so strong.”

Dean draws a shallow, shaking breath. “And what about you?” He’s almost afraid to ask, but she doesn’t disappoint.

Meg smirks. “I figured out one thing about this world — just one.” She twists back to lie flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling as she pulls each knee into her chest. “You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life.”

Dean nods, rolling to his side. “Sex work and heroin didn’t give you the kinda order you wanted?”

Meg chuckles and switches knees. “At one time, my pimp’s mission was it for me. But things change, right? We learn, we grow... Now?” She turns her head to look at him again. “My cause is getting sober.”

Dean purses his lips. “So you and I’re the lucky two?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He wishes her insistence that he’s so strong made him feel that way. Instead, he feels like there’s a light shining on his weaknesses. If there was a way for him to be all the good things people claim to know about him and nothing else, maybe he could finally stop hearing his dead dad’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he’s worthless. 

“We’ve been here for over an hour.” Meg sighs then rolls away from him, to her side, and up onto her hands and knees. “Let’s go eat and chain-smoke before group.”

She hops to her feet before reaching out a hand to help Dean up. He smiles softly before accepting her offer.

“Do you feel akin to Jack?” Billie asks.

It’s their scheduled session in the afternoon. Dean is exhausted. There’s so much talking and listening and correcting — yourself and others.

“I’m old enough to be the kid’s dad, so I guess? Things’re different than they used to be.” Dean shrugs.

“For who?”

Dean drops his head to the back of the chair and sighs. 

“You’ve had a long day, I know,” Billie says, and Dean rolls his head to the side and peeks at her with one eye. 

“Therapy and recovery aren’t quick and easy.” Billie shakes her head. “If they were, everybody’d do it. Right?”

Dean snorts. “I guess.” He sighs again, this time much less dramatically, then sits up straight in his chair. He clears his throat before moving forward with what he knows he has to talk about.

“Sometimes… we didn’t have what we needed— Sam and I— because Dad was... whatever and wherever, and I did things. For people.”

Billie nods.

Dean is surprised to find her unsurprised by his confession. He thought his juvenile records would be sealed no matter what. Maybe she just knows because she’s a brain doctor.

“I wasn’t a hooker.” 

“OK.”

“I just did what I had to do.”

“I understand.”

“Like the time I stole bread and peanut butter from the 7-Eleven and got thrown into a boys’ home.”

Billie nods.

“And the time I let the PTA president suck my dick for dinner five nights a week for Sam and me.”

Billie narrows her eyes slightly, still listening, still not taking notes.

“Or an extra hundred in cash for clothes for the kid who grew outta mine the second he turned 16 just to let the guy on the corner watch me eat out his wife.”

Dean wipes at his nose and then looks out Billie’s windows. 

“Thank you for telling me, Dean.”

Dean nods and swings his gaze back to Billie. “It’s just... Meg says I’m this badass, gonna pass outta here with flying colors, and Jack... thinks I’m a nag.”

Billie bobs and shakes her head. “No one’s just one thing.”

“Are we having the ‘not everyone is thinking about you all the time’ conversation?”

Billie smiles. “While you were your little brother’s hero, you were someone else’s prey.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, and he looks out the windows again. 

“While your daughter sat broken-hearted on one side of town, you single-handedly carried Cyrus Styne to safety.”

Dean closes his eyes and lets a tear roll down his cheek. “So what’s in between?”

“It’s not about other people’s perceptions.”

Before looking back at her, Dean drags his hand over his face. “Then what’s it about?”

“You had to eat and care for your brother, right?”

Dean nods. “Yeah.”

“What about Emma?”

Dean flicks his gaze up to Billie’s. 

“Do you see a likeness between Emma and the teenage boy you saved from her high school?”

Dean smirks. “Besides the fact that was her high school?”

Billie smiles and nods. “Besides that.”

“You think I’m avoiding her.”

Billie tilts her head. “Are you?”

“Dean. Hi. How are you?”

“Hey, Lydia. I’m... OK. Is Em around? She blocked me on her phone. I really need to talk to her.”

Lydia is quiet on the other end of the line for a beat. “Just a minute, OK?”

Dean watches the clock on the wall above the phone tick by almost a full 60 seconds before Lydia’s phone is unmuted. There’s a bit of muffled shuffling at first, then...

“Hi, Daddy.”

Chapter 8 

Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

MJ’s Masterlist

[mckiwi]

An Angel and a Demon Walk into a Hotel

(Chapter 1: Gabe's POV)

Gabe is just trying to get through his shift as a hotel Front Desk Agent when two strange men come in looking for a room. Just when he thinks his night can't get any weirder, life finds a way to prove him wrong.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Category: Multi

Fandoms: Good Omens

Characters: Original Characters, Aziraphale, Crowley, Gabriel, Beelzebub

Tags: Hotel, Outside POV, There Was Only One Bed, Oneshot, Crowley's Bentley, Elements of Uncanny Valley, Post Season 1, Pre Season 2, Miracles, Domestic Aziraphale/Crowley, Comedy, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, only a bit at the end, emphasis on uncanny valley effect, Human Narator, Unreliable Narrator, POV Third Person Limited, Minor Beelzebub/Gabriel

Words: 2,451

It was nearing the last hour of Gabe’s shift when a black Bentley pulled up under the canopy. The sun had long since set and Gabe had already assigned every reservation a room for the night, ready to get this night over with. “Oh, well this is nice!” A man with an affinity for light-colored clothing and fluffy hair said as he walked through the sliding doors into the lobby. 

Another man with an affinity for dark-colored clothes and ginger hair followed in after him, “Sure, if you call a hotel that’s a few decades old ‘nice’- don’t answer that.” He interrupted himself as he saw the other open his mouth to speak. 

Gabe amped up his ‘Customer Service Voice’ and smiled, “Hi, welcome in! Do you two have a reservation?”

“I’m afraid not. We’ll be needing a room for two, please.” The one in light clothes said, coming up to the Front Desk and resting his adjoined hands on the counter while the other man wandered over to the coffee machines. 

Gabe gave what could be considered a sympathetic grimace and shook his head, “I’m sorry, we’re actually completely booked up for the night.” As he had said for about the seventh time that night already, and it surely wouldn’t be his last. 

“Oh,” the man said in an off-put tone. Not at all the disappointed or frustrated tone Gabe normally heard. “I do believe you’ll find you have one room left.”

“No, sir. I doubt it. I’ve been booked for hours now and I had just checked my page not that long ago,” Gabe answered. 

“Check again,” The man in black deadpanned from the coffee machines. Something about the man made chills run up Gabe’s spine.

The man at the counter somehow also had that effect but for a completely different reason. Regardless, Gabe checked his system again, and sure enough, “Oh, I’m sorry! We actually do have a room left. It’ll be our standard King bedroom.” 

The ginger man had come up to the counter just then with a steaming cup of black coffee, “Just one bed then?”

“One king-sized bed, yes.”

His head rolled to the side dramatically and glared at his partner. The other tisked at him and bristled, “Well how was I meant to know? And what would our head offices think if we shared a room.”

Ah, so that was it. Two coworkers who weren’t comfortable sharing a room. 

“It’ll be fine, Angel. Just get the room.” 

Oh, or maybe not. 

The blonde sighed shortly, “Fine. We’ll take the room, please. Under the name A. Z. Fell.”

“Perfect. What’s a good phone number we can use?” 

“You can use my bookshop’s number. +44 20 7440 3248.” 

“Excellent, and what kind of vehicle are you driving?”

The ginger spoke up, “We’re in my car. Issa Bentley. A black one from 1933. Plate is NIAT RUC. Name’s Anthony Crowley, by the way. If you need to put that in your notes, or whatever.”

“Is that ‘curtain’ backward? Are you a patron of the arts, by chance?” Gabe asked. 

“Ngk, well… you ah, you could say I’ve put a certain investment into Shakespeare,” Crowley answered as Fell chuckled softly. 

They gave the final details of their reservation, paid, and were given their key cards. “Here you are! Room 119. That’ll be down this hallway to your right. The WiFi password and breakfast hours are inside your card envelope.” Gabe handed the keys over to Fell. 

“Wonderful! Thank you ever so much! And what was your name again, dear?”

“Gabriel.”

“Oh,” Fell said sourly, “that’s unfortunate. No matter. Well, I hope you have a nice rest of your night.”

“You as well,” Gabe returned, slightly offended on his name’s behalf.  

Crowley announced, “Right, well, imma go park the car. Angel, you can go look at the room or something. I’ll catch up.”

“Okay, dear. See you in a tick.”

“Hmmk,” Crowley responded eloquently and left to go presumably park their car. Fell in the meanwhile thanked Gabe again and went back to find their room. It wasn’t too much longer before Crowley came back in, made another coffee as well as some tea, then headed in the direction of their room. 

Gabe thought the interaction was strange, sure, but he’d been in customer service long enough that it was far from the strangest. He’d just begun to finish closing up his shift when another man walked through the sliding doors. The man wore light-colored clothing, much like Fell had, but this one was far more modern, and Gabe could’ve sworn his eyes had a purple hue. “Hi,” the man greeted, distinctly American, “I find myself in need of one of your meeting rooms.”

“Alrighty, sir. And when would you be needing it?” Gabe asked, pulling up the tab to reserve meeting spaces. 

“Now, obviously.” the man answered and gave a humorless smile. 

Gabe paused and glanced at the time. 10:14 pm. “You want to host a meeting at ten at night?” The man nodded affirmatively. “Okay, then. Umm, 

how many people are you expecting and what time would this take place?”

“Just me and one other. They didn’t want to meet at our usual spot, so I suggested a formal meeting space. We agreed to meet here at 10:30.” 

“Perfect. So that’s gonna be £40 per hour. What’s your name?”

“Gabriel.” The man, Gabriel, answered.  

“Oh, nice. That’s my name as well.” Gabe commented.

“Ah, wonderful! Another follower. Blessings be upon you.” Gabriel said, and Gabe felt that now familiar yet uncomfortable prickling of his skin. 

Gabe couldn’t help but blink at him a few times, “right. Okay, well. You’ll be in Room 3. You’re given a 10-minute grace period to access the meeting room, then your time will officially start at 10:30. In the meantime, you’re welcome to some coffee or tea.”

Gabriel grimaced, “no, thank you. I don’t sully my holy temple with gross matter.” About that time, Fell came around the corner of the hallway with Crowley in step behind him, looking down at his shoes and ranting about something indiscernible. Fell made eye contact with Gabe and smiled, then saw who Gabe was talking to and went wide-eyed. Crowley yelped as Fell jerked the duo back around the corner. 

This night was slowly creeping up on Gabe’s ‘Weirdest Encounters’ list. 

At 10:28, a shadow of a figure walked through the front doors carrying a clipboard of papers, completely undeterred by the swarm of flies around them. They leveled him with a look that couldn’t necessarily kill, but definitely maim, “have you seen a guy with an annoying smile recently? Dressed entirely too brightly?” 

Gabe perked up from behind the desk, glad the flies decided to stay outside, “I believe I have. Is the name Gabriel, by chance?”

As if summoned, Gabriel approached the Front Desk with the aforementioned annoying smile, “Ah! There they are! Beelzebub, do you have the reports?”

They held up the clipboard with a little shake, “the photographs too.”

“That is perfect! Alright- Oh, and meet a new follower of mine,” Gabriel gestured toward Gabe, “his name’s Gabriel! Isn’t that great!” 

Gabe gave a small wave, “Hi. Love the makeup, by the way. It suits you.” They didn’t thank him, but the murderous glare did soften slightly. 

“Right,” they cleared their throat and turned away, “let’s get this done. I haven’t got all day.”

Gabriel tsked, “Well technically-”

“Well technically you need to shut up and show me where we’re having this ‘meeting’ at.” They snapped, though Gabriel seemed to have expected this and wasn’t affected. The duo made their way toward Room 3 just as Gabe’s earlier duo came back around the corner.

Fell and Crowley hesitantly came up to the desk. Eventually, it was Fell who spoke up, “Hello again, dear. I um, I understand if you can’t answer this for… patient confidentiality or what have you-”

“He’s not a doctor for Go- for Somebody’s sake, Angel. Just ask him the bloody question.”

“Right, yes, I was getting to that. Anyway, could you possibly tell us why Gabriel and Beelzebub are currently in your establishment?” Fell asked, to which Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Gabe considered how to answer the question. Sure, there were the normal protocols and regulations in place to protect a guest’s privacy, but then again, nothing about this last hour has been normal, and Gabe would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious himself. “They said they were having a meeting,” he answered vaguely. 

Crowley spoke first this time, “Did they say how long this ‘meeting’ would last? Did they say anything about what the meeting was over? Did they mention our names at all? Did they ask about us?”

“No, sir. As far as I’m aware, they’re having a meeting about some kind of report.” Gabe looked between the two. “They haven’t said anything about either of you. Should I tell them you’re here?”

“No!” They both shouted, before promptly shushing each other and grabbing at each other’s sleeves. Fell cleared his throat, “best not, dear boy. That wouldn’t bode over so well for either party.”

“Right, okay, well…” Gabe had no idea how to continue the conversation. His lips formed different words restlessly in an attempt to fill the silence. 

Thankfully, Crowley broke it, “Angel, with me,” and all but dragged Fell back towards their room.

The little clock at the bottom corner of the computer just ticked over to 10:47 when Gabriel and his guest walked out of the meeting room. “Well, it was lovely to be able to see you again, Beelzebub.”

“Eugh, don’t say that. You’ll give me hives,” the other said and wrinkled their nose in disgust. Gabriel just smiled at them all the while. “So, same time next month? Our usual place?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,” Gabriel said softly, then cleared his throat and straightened his clothes, wiping off the nonexistent dust. “Right. This meeting is now adjourned. I’ll be seeing you.”

The other nodded, “See you then. There’s just something I have to do before I leave. Have to cause discord and unrest, you know. This place reeks of blessings.”

Gabriel gave Beelzebub a last, knowing look before turning away to leave, with the latter following shortly after. Gabe felt that weird tingle again, stronger this time and more insistent, like a limb losing blood circulation. He was left to process that entire interaction for all of 68 seconds before noticing a strange light coming from the parking lot. He nearly cursed at the sight of flames. 

Crowley peaked around the corner, “are they gone yet?”

Gabe exclaimed, “There’s a car on fire outside!”

“What!” Crowley was at the nearest window before either of them could comprehend it. He practically plastered himself to the glass to peer out, then peeled himself away with a sigh of relief, “Whew, it’s not mine. Almost had a heart attack there, and that’s saying something.” 

“What’s going on here?” Fell asked, having followed Crowley out a moment later. 

Gabe shrugged, “There’s a car on fire, apparently. I don’t know what to do, I- I mean,” he gestured cluelessly, “guess we should see who’s it is.”

Crowley moved back slightly to give Gabe room to look outside and laughed, “I’d hate to be that guy.”

Gabe paled, “that’s my car.”

Crowley shifted uncomfortably, “…oh.”

Fell came up behind Gabe and rested a hand on his shoulder to turn him away from the window, “Don’t fret. I’m sure your car is just fine.” He made a weird motion with his free hand and Gabe felt that tingly feeling up his spine strengthen. 

“What was that?” Gabe asked.

“What was what?” Fell returned. 

“That thing you just did with your hand.”

“I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about.”

Gabe narrowed his eyes in confusion before looking at Crowley, who shrugged noncommittally, “didn’t see a thing.” He turned back to the window only to find his car perfectly fine and definitely not on fire. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He found the same sight when he looked again. His ears started to ring. 

“No, you did something. I’ve been getting this weird feeling ever since you came in.” Gabe spun back around and looked at Fell properly for the first time. Fell’s brow was creased in worry and his lips pinched. His curly hair was the definition of orderly chaos. His stance was Protective. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Fell asked. Gabe looked into those ocean-blue eyes. It felt like looking at those antique photographs his grandmother kept. 

Those eyes were Old. 

Gabe stepped back and inhaled shakily, cocking his head to the side and eyeing Crowley warily. He’d stepped up to Fell’s side. “Think we might have another one, Angel.” 

Fell sighed, “Seems like it. That’s what happens when you get blessed by an archangel, I suppose. Gabriel never did have a touch of subtlety.” Fell took a step toward Gabe, “Come here, dear.”

Gabe shook his head vehemently, “why?”

“Don’t be afraid,” Fell Said. 

For whatever reason, Gabe felt compelled to trust him, which was terrifying in its own right. Nonetheless, Gabe moved toward the Light, unafraid. Fell held one of Gabe’s hands in both of his. 

“May you go home, and dream of whatever it is that you like best. Be well and go in peace.”

Fell released Gabe’s hand, and Gabe clutched it with his other at his chest. Once he had a few moments to collect himself, he looked up to see he was now alone in the lobby, left only with a slight ringing in his ears. Maybe he should get his hearing checked. 

The front doors opened to reveal his shift relief, Rebekah. “Hey, man. When’d you get that dent in your car fixed?” They both went behind the Front Desk. She clocked in while he clocked out. Rebekah stopped to look at him when he didn’t respond. “Gabe? You good?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his thumb over the healed scratch on his hand, “yeah, really good, actually.”

She didn’t seem to believe him, “Right. Umm, is there anything I should know before you leave?”

He thought for a second, “Nothing that I know of. Oh, wait! There’s something with room, uh, room 119. Can’t remember what, though… I don’t know, I’ll text you later if it’s important.”

“Alrighty then. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We’ll see. Have a nice night!” Gabe called. 

“You too!” She returned as Gabe walked out the front door. 

It was nearing the first hour of Rebekah’s shift when a silver Toyota pulled out from under the canopy.