#And the Gigantor just appears when it's his turn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ya-so-im-here · 2 years ago

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Did I Make You Blush?

Writer: Me, I have it published under my Wattpad account TheNinjaOfCake22

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Ship: Larry Daley x Ahkmenrah

Word Count: 3026

Link: https://www.wattpad.com/1317572968-larry-x-ahkmenrah-one-shot-s-tabletguardians-did-i

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It had been a couple months now since both Larry and Ahkmenrah confessed their feelings to one another and since they started dating officially. The coupling hadn't came with any surprise from their friends within the museum as many had nearly or were quite certain that the two had deeper feelings for one another. So when it was revealed it was a mixture of "congratulations" and "about time."

With the new formal pair dating, not too much had change ultimately. Larry was still subtle with his affections as he was before when he was hinting at his feelings towards the pharaoh, and Ahkmenrah was about as obvious as ever, though it could be argued that he always was so obvious, trying to express his feelings towards the night guard even back before when Larry often overlooked his affections not noticing them.

Though now Larry was much more aware of the Pharaoh's flirts and affections, but ultimately those affections weren't reciprocated at least not in the manner of which Ahk would have preferred and he was having just about enough of it.

Larry was in the main lobby of the museum as was common as the majority of the exhibits preferred the grand openness of it compared to their displays. Ahkmenrah had come down from his room to find his boyfriend talking with Jed, Octavius, and Dexter around Rexy's stand. The night was young and there was already trouble for Larry to help mend.

"We've talked about this guys. What else are you to expect, it's not like he's a horse" stated Larry looking down at the three of them.

"We don't need any more horses Gigantor, we need a battle ready mount" shouted out Jed

"Why? what battle are you going into?" asked the night guard perplexed by the situation.

"In case we need one of course. The last time we had a battle here we didn't have a battle ready mount and it would have come in handy." answered Jed strongly

"Don't you have the car?"

"Car just ain't the same" responded Jed taking his hat off in what appeared to be disappointment

"He's right Larry, a car doesn't strike as much fear in the hearts of our enemies as a wild capuchin monkey does" added Octavius gently patting Jed's shoulder in a form of comfort. Larry simply looked down at the two then looked over at Dexter who had his signature monkey half smile that he often had.

"Don't act like you're free from this conversation either" added Larry pointing at the monkey, who responded by sitting down and lowering his head a little. "You guy's couldn't work this out on your own?" the night guard asked placing a hand on his hip and the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We did try, but he wasn't cooperating" explained Jed pointing at the capuchin to which Dexter responded with a high pitched chirp of what appeared to be deviance.

"Well you can't just saddle up your friends and ride them into battle, specifically if there is no battle to ride into and also if they said no in the first place."

"Larry I don't think you understand. It was for training for when the situation arrives." explained Octavius

"Precisely Gigantor, we know there ain't no battle to ride into, death ready and at our sides. But we have to train and prepare ourselves so that we can go out in a blaze of glory when our time arrives" elaborated Jed with keenness and flare in his eyes. Larry simply signed unknowing how to handle the situation.

"Besides if he didn't want us to all he had to do was ask." stated Octavius "He didn't have to run rambid and destroy our cities" added Octavius, it was now Jed's turn to pat his shoulder comfortably.

"Yeah, that's not cool Dex. You know we have to fix that before morning." exclaimed Larry, pointing a finger at the capuchin who responded once again with his own monkey noises "No. Destroying things isn't the solution, just as saddling up Dexter isn't a solution either" he added pointing the direction back to the to minis.

It was around this point in the conversation that Ahkmenrah had made it down the stairs and towards Larry's side. The pharaoh took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's waist utterly distracting the night guard as well as their friends.

"What sort of mischief is happening here" cooed Ahk quietly in Larry's ear instantly getting a flush of rose colored blush to lightly cover his cheeks, from the sudden presence from his boyfriend.

"Ooooh, Gigantor's gettin all blushie" teased Jed as he broke into a roarious laughter and using Octavius' shoulder for balance. Even Dexter began to laugh at Larry expense.

"Not much" stated Larry wriggling himself free from Ahk's arms "Just trying to settle the ordeal of Jed and Oct thinking they need a battle ready mount and the fact that Dexter rampaged throughout their displays." Larry's blush had died down from the sudden excitement from his boyfriend's close presence to a form of bothered embarrassment.

"Oh" mumbled Ahkmenrah as he took a step back from Larry and his joyous smile dwindled. "Well simple." stated the Pharaoh as he went forth and addressed the three before him "Dexter, you must help them fix their cities, since you destroyed them. As for Jedidiah and Octavius, if you want a battle ready mount, discuss it beforehand with Dexter before attempting it. Perhaps you can work out an agreement like civilized adults." he declared formally.

"You got it, captain" saluted Jed with a flare of dramatics that was equal to Octavius' "Of course you're majesty." Which was rivaled by Dexter's own primate response.

Ahkmenrah then took that as his time to leave, just as Larry was about to turn around and face him, his boyfriend was already beginning his ascend up the stairs. To where Larry presumed was back into Ahk's room. Larry sighed feeling defeated as he realized he had made a mistake and definitely needed to fix it.

"Ah yes, unappreciated affections. Definitely an issue that could lead to further issues" proclaimed Teddy as he and Texas rode up to Larry's side.

"Thanks. I really needed to hear that" remarked the night guard.

"Indeed you did Laurence. You've never been the openly affectionate type, especially with actions and touch. However, our dear pharaoh is just that. Affectionate with actions and touch." elaborated the past president.

"I know. It's not that I don't want to be, but I'm working. It feels wrong to be openly flirting when I'm in the middle of doing my job and trying to fix things." explained Larry

"Perhaps it be best that you talk to your partner about this. It's something you both need to agree on and see eye-to-eye on to avoid the awkward situations like the one that just unfolded before us."

"It was awkward" He asked meekly

"Yes it was" stated Teddy.

"Mhm" remarked Attila making his presence and his awareness of the situation known as he was talking with Sacajawea just a few feet over from the two.

"Well great" mumbled Larry in further more embarrassment.

"I suggest my dear boy, go and talk to him" smiled Teddy warmly and gently grabbing Larry's shoulder in support. Larry nodded in agreement, as he made his way towards his boyfriend with a ping of guilt in his stomach.

Larry arrived to the opening of Ahkmenrah's room with both of the jackals standing guard as was their constant duty to their pharaoh. Sitting on his sarcophagus was Ahkmenrah himself, he looked down and sad as he sat their to himself. Larry's guilt ten folded just upon seeing his boyfriend in such a state and the knowing he caused it only worsened it.

"Ahk?" he called out gently as it echoed through the room, reaching his boyfriend's ears. Ahk turned around and faced Larry, his saddened face was worse now that Larry could see it fully. "I'm so sorry" exclaimed the nigh guard as he quickly made it to the other man's side, and grabbing his hand firmly in his own. "I shouldn't have been so cold with you" he apologized wholeheartedly.

"I just don't understand why it is you refuse my affections. You know I like flirting with you, it's one of the ways I show I love you, and yet you refuse them and knock them down any chance you get" explained Ahk, he was sad but his voice was also of annoyance and mild anger.

"I know. And I knew this when we started dating, I thought I would get over it, but I can't help it-"

"Why can't you help it? what about me is making my endearments rejectable?" asked Ahkmenrah.

"No, no. They're not rejectable, it's simply I feel..." Larry paused, exhaled lightly then explained "I just feel embarrassed and awkward" Ahk looked at him, and Larry swore he looked even more hurt then before.

"Oh. I wasn't trying to embarrass you, they were supposed to be sweet" stifled Ahk's response.

"Wait no, I mean it's because I'm working. Technically it's my job to help everyone, and settle conflicts that arise. But then you act all flirtatious and I get all flustered and my face flushes. I never expected to fall in love with you so much, but I did and every time your sweet or flirty with me. I turn into a mess and I don't want to be a mess of emotions when I'm trying to solve problems within the museum." clarified Larry as he held tight to his boyfriend's hand to ensure him he meant every word and that he did deeply love the affections and flirtings.

Ahkmenrah looked up at his boyfriend with a sparkle in his eye "So, the only reason you've rejected my affections is because I make you flustered?" questioned the pharaoh as he tightened his own grip on Larry's hand and smirked at him mischievously.

"Y-yes" he stuttered in response, as his cheeks began to become lightly flushed once again as Ahk's other hand trailed along Larry's arm, gently and coyly. Larry's shoulders tightened as he felt his face begin to heat up from the rather swift change in Ahk's mood and actions.

Ahk softly lifted up Larry's hand towards his face placing a caressing kiss on the other man's knuckle, shivers trailed along Larry's spine from the contact of his boyfriend's lips on his hand. Ahkmenrah smiled archly at he watched his actions slowly unravel his boyfriend's adamant exterior from just his gently touch.

Larry attempted to uphold his composure, but he was becoming flushed and flustered from each and every touch that the Pharaoh was giving him, he wasn't even sure how he was supposed to react. He felt stiff but also like mush, as though a gentle tab and he would fall over from the attention.

"Ahk- Ahkmenrah..." he mumbled as his partner gently folded back one of his sleeves and left soft gentle kisses along his arm. Larry blush had spread out towards his ears as they too became engulfed in a crimson shade. Ahkmenrah gave Larry's hand one last gentle kiss before looking up at his boyfriend with the same flirtatious smile.

"What's this?" whispered Ahkmenrah amorously as he leaned in close to Larry's ear "Did I make you blush?" Larry never felt his face grow to be this hot before now, he knew he was certainly as red as a tomato. Though unlike before he didn't wriggle away he felt utterly frozen and enthralled in his boyfriend's flirtatious manner.

Ahkmenrah moved closer to his boyfriend, letting go of his hand and now moving it behind his head, allowing him to kiss gently by Larry's ear as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, as the flush on Larry's face grew ten times what it was back within the lobby.

Larry felt he may utterly fall apart from the touch and whispers from his partner as he leaned into each touch that was gifted to him, his arms covered in chills and his face flushed and flustered. He enjoyed each touch, but felt utterly flustered nonetheless he couldn't elaborate on why but Ahk's affections possessed a powerful reaction on him he fell into each and every time.

Ahkmenrah coyly pulled away from his boyfriend, locking eyes with him. "Perhaps you'll be less flustered if you don't reject my affections"? he teased, Larry went to reply but was interrupted by a swift and sweet kiss, now he had to swear his face couldn't get any redder then this. "I won't flirt too much when you're in problem solving mode, however when you aren't I intend to keep up my antics whether you become flustered or not" allured the Pharaoh charmingly.

Larry smiled back, still feeling flustered but also utterly in love with the man beside him, "I would have it no other way" he stated as he leaned in a reciprocated the kiss.

"Well well well, so this is why you went on and skedaddled away from us, so you can get all close and personal with your man" teased Jed, he and Octavius were saddled upon Dexter's back in a makeshift saddle resembling both the Cowboys and Romans.

"So I see you figured it all out" exclaimed Ahk excitedly as he rested his chin on Larry's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"We did indeed." stated Octavius, "We discussed out a plan, every week Dexter will allow us to train him to be our battle ready mount, and in exchange once every week we will aid him in is endeavors to cause mayhem for you" explained the Roman proudly.

"Great, now I'll have you the pharaoh over here to do that" teased Larry as he gently turned his head and kissed Ahkmenrah's forehead.

"At that you will" whispered Ahkmenrah back, as he leaned in further into Larry's shoulder.

#larry x ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x larry #larry daley #natm ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah #NATM #natm 3 #natm fandom #natm 2 #natm larry #one-shot #oneshot #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #natm fic #tablet guardians

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astra-galaxie · 2 years ago

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"Now, we just need to get it on the back! Want to help me, Gigantor (Fili)?" - Danyon Wilson

Biographical information

Full Name: Danyon Wilson

Gender: Demi boy

Sexuality: Gay

Status: Alive

Age: 18 (season 1)

Birth: 1995

Race: Human

Nationality: American

Origin: Fairview, Grimsborough, USA

Residence: Fairview, Grimsborough, USA

Profession(s): High School Student

Partner(s): Noah Smith (boyfriend) (deceased)

Affiliation(s): Fairview High School LGBTQ+ Club

Profile

Height: 5'9" Age: 18 (season 1) Weight: 147lbs Eyes: green Blood: O-

Danyon is a teenager with short, curly brown hair shaved on the left side. He has bright green eyes and a blinding smile that can light up a room. In his case appearance, he wears dark blue shorts with teal suspenders, light blue sneakers with rainbow socks, a blue tank top with a darker vest, and a turquoise bandana around his neck. He also has multiple rainbow bracelets on his wrists, a heart-shaped earring in his right ear, and spare miniature flags in a bag attached to his belt.

As per his suspect appearance in The Ways of Death, it is known that Danyon has read Animal Farm, eats Nanaimo bars, and uses hair dye.

Synopsis

Danyon was the boyfriend of the late Noah Smith and a high school student at Fairview High School. He was the president of the school's LGBTQ+ club and an active member of the Grimsborough pride community. He volunteered at many local events in support of his fellow LGBTQ+ members and always looked forward to wearing his rainbow colours.

He met Noah at a rally outside of Grimsborough after convincing his parents to let him and his friends go for the weekend. He was surprised to see Noah there as he had heard stories about the man bullying others for their "differences." And yet, there was Noah decked out in rainbow colours, smiling and having fun with his friends. He couldn't believe his eyes, so he decided to talk to Noah and find out who he really was.

After the first awkward conversation, Danyon and Noah exchanged phone numbers and began texting. Soon they became friends and later boyfriends. They discovered they had a lot in common, and Danyon learned about the Noah behind the mask. He was pleasantly surprised by how friendly Noah was once you got to know him and loved his tiny nervous laugh.

Danyon began helping Noah to apologize to those he hurt in the past. When Noah returned to Grimsborough for the culture festival, Danyon introduced him to his friends and members of the Grimsborough LGBTQ+ community. It was hard for others to accept that Noah wasn't the man they thought he was, but they gave him a chance to redeem himself.

When Danyon learned of his boyfriend's murder, he was heartbroken. He had JUST been talking to Noah at lunch, and while his boyfriend complained of a stomach ache, Danyon never thought Noah was actively dying! He wishes he had stayed with Noah; maybe then they would have realized something was wrong and could have gotten him to the hospital in time to save him. But Danyon will never know if that would have saved his boyfriend…

After Noah's father was arrested, Danyon was furious at the man. How could he kill his own son just because Noah loved another man?! It wasn't fair! Noah was doing so much to turn his life around, and this was how fate repaid him?! He should have been alive, graduated from university, and started a career; maybe even he and Danyon could have gotten married! But now, those dreams can never come true…

But even if Noah was now gone, Danyon is happy that his boyfriend got the justice he deserved. He vowed to do everything he could to ensure Noah's true self lived on in his memory and even has plans to one day create a foundation for youth in need in honour of Noah. He knows it will take time, but he doesn’t doubt that Noah will be watching over him. Danyon hopes one day, they will be able to reunite on the other side and be together again, happy and safe in each other's embrace.

Story Information

First appeared: The Ways of Death

Trivia

His name comes from two IRL gay men that I know

Likewise, his personality is based on the two of them

He aspires to be an elementary school teacher and do cosmetology on the side

He has a condition that is making his hair turn prematurely gray, so he dyes it brown

I themed his clothes after the gay flag (a mixture of greens and blues)

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad)

#criminal case #astra's ocs #my ocs #criminal case grimsborough #grimsborough #CC OC profile

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anotherspnfanfic · 4 years ago

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Overloaded

Pairing: Dr Dean x nurse reader

Word count: 1584

Warnings: minor injury

Squares filled: Hospital AU for @spndeanbingo and Doctor AU for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me a Story Bingo

Summary: Working too many hours and being short handed leads to a breaking point.

~~~

Gabe pushed the wheelchair off the elevator into the ED. She bit her lip to muffle her whimper as the small bump jostled her foot. “Sorry,” Gabe murmured as he wheeled her towards the nurses station. “Hey, Charlie, you got an open room? She needs an x-ray.”

Charlie turned to see who Gabe was referring to. “Oh, what happened?” she asked, seeing the pain on her friend’s face.

Before either of them could explain, Dean came out of an exam room and spotted her. “My nurses are not supposed to be in wheelchairs. Especially not my favorite one,” he said as he walked over and squatted down to her level. He noticed her puffy eyes as he carefully pulled up the pant leg on her elevated foot. He echoed Charlie’s question, “What happened, sweetheart?”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead as she glanced at the floor. “I missed a step, or maybe two. I landed wrong on my ankle. I'm pretty sure it’s broken. It hurts a lot.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he stood and moved to take over Gabe’s position. “Okay, let's get you checked out.”

“Exam 4 is open,” Charlie said.

Dean turned to Gabe as he pushed her toward the room. “Can you go grab the portable x-ray and 25 mcg fentanyl, please?”

Once they were in the exam room, Dean offered his hand to help her stand on her good leg. He leaned over and lifted her carefully and then set her on the bed. She tried not to whine as the movement sent pain shooting up her leg. “Damn it. This sucks,” she said.

He situated the bed so she was laid nearly flat and got her foot elevated on a couple pillows. “1-10—how’s the pain?” Dean asked, as he tossed a blanket over her.

“Uhh, about a 6.”

Dean nodded. “Gabe should be back with the pain meds in a minute. So, you missed a step?” he asked as he started to check her vitals.

“Yeah, I was playing with my phone and I missed it,” she explained. He gave her a skeptical look.

Before he could say anything more, Gabe appeared and handed Dean a syringe. “I figured you’d want that first. I’ll be right back with the x-ray.”

Dean finished recording her temp and BP, then pushed the sleeve of her scrubs up her shoulder and cleaned a spot with an alcohol wipe. “Little pinch,” he warned. “Babe, you can maneuver all the stairs in this building backwards, hands full, and with your eyes closed. You sure you just missed it?” he asked.

She broke eye contact as she contemplated her answer carefully, knowing he could tell when she was lying. “No,” she mumbled. “I might have been a little dizzy, too.”

He reached his index finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “Any guesses why you were dizzy?”

She pulled away enough to drop her gaze back down to the bed and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Low blood sugar, maybe? Probably,” she mumbled the last word. She fiddled with the corner of the blanket almost nervously, not wanting to see the disappointment and concern on his face.

He hummed. “So you didn’t miss a step. You fainted?”

She sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”

“Have you eaten anything since the granola bar I brought you,” he paused to check his watch, “five hours ago?”

She shook her head and pulled the barely-touched bar from her pocket. “I got busy and then I forgot it was there.”

“What about water? Have you been drinking?” he probed. She simply shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. “So you’re probably dehydrated, too.”

She shrugged.

He sighed. “You really have got to take better care of yourself. I love how much you care for everyone around you, but you have to come first once in a while. Otherwise, you won’t be able to help anyone.”

“I just get so busy that I forget sometimes.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “We are going to work on that.”

Before she could add anything, Gabe pushed the x-ray into the room, and within a few minutes, they had all the images they needed of her ankle.

“Definitely very broken,” Dean stated. “Gabe, can you run a CBC and BMP and then start an IV of normal saline while I go page Sammy, please?”

“You got it, boss.”

“Wait!” she yelled before he could disappear out the door. “Why are you paging Sam?”

He turned back to face her. “Did you hit your head, too? You broke your ankle; we need an ortho consult. That would be Sam.”

She let out a frustrated groan as Dean left.

Gabe patted her shoulder before wrapping the tourniquet around her arm. “Maybe try not falling down the stairs next time.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away from what he was doing. “Oh, my god. Why didn’t I think of that?!”

He finished the blood draw and got the IV set up. Next, he carefully fluffed the pillows under her foot to ensure it was elevated enough. “You are all set. Do you need anything else right now?”

“Not unless you have a time machine.”

“A day do-over? Let’s see.” Gabe snapped his fingers and then spun around. “Damn. It was worth a shot.”

She tried to contain her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for trying, I guess.”

Ten minutes later, she was dozing off when Dean returned with Sam close behind. Dean ran a comforting hand over her head to ensure she was awake.

Sam took a few minutes to read over the x-rays. He turned away from the light board and walked over to the foot of the bed. “Unstable bimalleolar fracture,” he stated as he inspected her ankle. “You just bought yourself surgery and a vacation.”

“No way,” she blurted. “I can’t. We’re already short staffed.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not exactly optional. Good news, though: the swelling isn’t too bad yet, I happen to be free in 45 minutes, and you haven’t eaten anything in hours. So we can do this today.”

Charlie joined them to give Dean her lab results. He turned to address her. “Just like I thought: mild dehydration and your blood sugar is at 58.” Dean flipped through the info again before handing it over to Sam. “Okay. So I’ll add glucose to her IV and get her up to pre-op.”

“Perfect. Make sure you keep her foot elevated.”

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Do you think this is my first day?”

Sam shrugged. “Just making sure, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled quietly.

Sam turned his attention back to her. “I’ll see you soon, Shortie. I’ll getcha all fixed up. Sound like a plan?”

She gave him a lazy thumbs up. “Thanks, Gigantor.”

“Can you send Gabe back in here on your way past?” Dean requested. Sam simply nodded as he turned to leave.

Dean returned his focus to her. “How’s the pain now?”

She scrunched up her nose as she considered her answer. “Um, about one and a half.” She laughed at herself.

“That’s good. I see you’re loopy, too.”

She scowled at him. “You’re loopy.”

He just shook his head. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Gabe returned and Dean gave him the med order and asked him to take her up to the OR.

“You’re not coming up?” She pouted.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll be there when you wake up, though, I promise.” He took her hand and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles.

As if on cue, Charlie leaned into the room. “Dean, trauma incoming. MVA car vs pedestrian. Ambo is two minutes out.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a second.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before he turned to leave. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Roughly three hours later, Sam found Dean in the lounge pouring a cup of coffee. He nodded and offered over the now-full cup.

“Thank you.” Sam took a sip of the dark liquid. “We got her all set up in recovery. She should be awake soon.”

“Okay. I’ll head up there in a minute.” Dean took a sip of his own coffee. “Everything went smoothly?”

“I’d have paged you if it hadn’t.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam nodded. “Yes, it went perfectly. It’ll heal up just fine.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Wandering into her room, he couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful she looked. He placed his hand softly against her cheek, sweeping his thumb slowly over the skin. She nuzzled into the touch as she lazily opened her eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She gave him a goofy smile. “I like when you call me that.”

“I know you do.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.” She yawned. “And I’m starving. Can you bring me some fries?”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad your appetite is back. You get a little more sleep and I’ll bring you fries.”

“And pizza,” she added. Before he could agree, she gasped. “Ice cream!”

“Tell you what: I will get you fries from the cafeteria for you to munch on on the way home and then we can order pizza.”

She pouted as her eyelids started to droop. “What about ice cream?”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he asked, “When do we ever not have ice cream at home?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” She smiled as she finally let herself drift off once more.

~~~

Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @babypieandwhiskey @muchamusedaboutnothing @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

#tell me a story bingo #spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #doctor!dean #doctor!sam #dean one shot #dean winchester #my gif #spn #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 4 years ago

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Chapter Ten: To Home and Friendship

(Images are not mine)

Rated: PG

~With every small disaster I'll let the waters still Take me away to some place real

'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone Is where you go when you're alone Is where you go to rest your bones It's not just where you lay your head It's not just where you make your bed As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?~

Home.

That wasn't a word I was used to. Not anymore.

"I stand by what I said earlier, Jack. You make an excellent pillo― Oh holy crap."

I gasped as Jack lead me inside the literal bunker that these guys apparently lived in. I wondered if I would ever get used to it, because their bunker was enormous.

We entered through a non-descript entrance, that nobody would have noticed, onto a platform that was less of a balcony and more of a catwalk which I guessed was the second floor, though I couldn't tell exactly because it was a bunker and it probably had more levels than I could see. The wrought iron railing of the balcony was formed into a design of circles atop rectangles. The catwalk ended with a set of steel stairs that curved with the wall.

My feet clanged on the metal as I descended the stairwell. At the bottom of those stairs on my right was a doorway that led somewhere else and on my left was what I guessed was the entryway. There was a big glowy-table-thing with a map on it in the center of the space, surrounded by several chairs. There was this big, greenish panel thingy attached to one of the tan tiled walls that looked like some sort of old timey computer equipment. Through a big gray archway, I could see into another room that looked like a library with a huge telescope at the end of it. On the far left of the room there was another hallway going off somewhere else. Dean stepped off the staircase and spread his arms out.

"Welcome to the Batcave!" He said, grinning. "I see you're impressed." Only then did I realize my mouth was hanging open. I closed it and shook my head.

"This place is colossal," I said in awe.

"Yeah, it's a little pretentious but you get used to it." Sam shrugged, passing me. Jack just stood over my shoulder, watching my reaction.

"True, but if you want protection, this is about the safest place in the world. It's got warding against every evil thing out there. Vampires, werewolves, demons, ghosts, you name it," Dean boasted. Just then, Isaac appeared on the catwalk, as far from us as he could.

"Ha! Then how did I get in here genius!" He jeered. It took every last drop of will power I had not to facepalm right then and there. It was warm in here and the hunters would certainly notice a sudden temperature drop. Was Isaac trying to get us discovered? (I'd say killed but he's already dead.)

"Yep, nothing gets in here unless we let it. Or, you know, bring it in accidentally." Sam shared a look with Cas and his older brother.

"Scooby-dooby-doo!" Dean laughed, shaking his head. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the story behind that or not. Meanwhile Isaac wore a sheepish expression.

"Oh, guess that’s how I got in then." Words cannot express how much I wanted to kick my brother at that moment. After he was finished laughing, Dean looked to Jack.

"Kid, you take Mcfly here, find her a room, get her all settled, then give her the grand tour. I'm gonna hit the sack." Dean turned on his heel with a wave and whistled his way out of the room. Castiel mumbled something about research and crossed through the arch into the library.

"We're gonna find the monster that took your family away, Marty. But until then, think of us as your new one." I looked up at Sam and was reminded again of how huge the guy was. His head was in a totally different weather system than mine and I wondered if it was harder to breathe all the way up there.

"Thanks Sam." I took three steps higher on the stairs and made grabby hands at him. "Come here."

Sam raised an eyebrow at me but obeyed anyway. I took a tiny jump and wrapped my arms around his neck. He stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around me with a chuckle.

"Shut up, Gigantor. I gotta hug ya’ somehow!" I rebuked, defending my height... Or rather, the lack thereof. I guess his laughter was justified though. My feet were dangling at least a foot from the floor. I let go of him and dropped back to the ground, it felt like falling off Mount Everest. Sam just shook his brown mane, smiling down at me.

"If there's anything you need, like help reaching the top shelf, just ask." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, whatever Sasquatch. So, what are you gonna do?" I asked. Sam shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

"Put my stuff away. Then I'm gonna go reorganize the pantry, make sure you can reach the cereal," He smirked, and followed Dean's path through the other door-way.

"Way to rub it in, Sam!" I called after him. I heard him chuckle as he rounded the corner out of my sight. Then I rounded on Jack, who had been waiting patiently. "Well, Jack, if you wanna make fun of my height, now's the time to do it. Lead on!" I opened my arms, preparing for insults.

"It is rare that I get to feel tall, but I'm not going to make fun of you," He said, turning on his heel to lead me through the door-way behind us.

"Good. Cause' I might have slapped you if ya had." Jack looked back at me questioningly, but I just shrugged.

I followed him through twisting and turning hallways that I knew I wouldn't be memorizing anytime soon. We kept walking for what seemed like forever. Honestly, I was ninety-eight percent convinced that we might pass a sign that said: 'Now Entering Nebraska.' It didn't help that all the halls looked exactly the same.

"Back at the motel, the night we met, Dean said you had this thing," Jack remarked, turning to face me and walking backward.

"What thing?" I asked.

"I think he called it ‘A Napoleon Complex' or something like that," Jack said, innocently. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

"And do you know what that is?"

"No. I haven't looked it up yet. Do you know?" I snorted.

"Oh, yeah. I know," I said. Already thinking of a comeback for the next time I saw Dean.

"What is it?" Jack was simply curious. I smirked at him.

"Do you know who Napoleon was?" I asked him, I was pretty sure of the answer.

"No." Just as I thought. The Winchesters needed to teach their half-angel some history. As for now though, I could give him the watered-down version.

"Napoleon was a French dude, not to be confused with the ice-cream. He was five foot six and when people called him short, he blew them up." I told him. Jack nodded seriously.

"I see, so he was insecure about his height and used violence to compensate for it. Then, the complex was named after him." I had to give it to him, the kid was smart.

"Yep. Never mind the fact that he took over almost all of Europe, he will always be famous for being a human chihuahua." I had to at least teach Jack something remotely accurate. Jack frowned and his eyebrows pulled together as if remembering something unpleasant. I guessed he had come into contact with a chihuahua before, it didn't look like he was fond of them.

"So, Dean thinks you're insecure about your height," Said Jack, returning us to the original topic.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Are you?" I shrugged.

"Not really. I'm just obnoxious." Jack laughed, coming to a stop in front of a black door that looked just the same as the rest that lined the hall except for the plaque with the number 22 etched into it.

"This is my room," He said. "And that's Sam's." He pointed to the door on the left of his which had a 21 on it. "You can pick any of these other rooms." His eyes flicked to the door next to his on the right, room 24. I briefly wondered what had happened to 23. When I met his eyes, he looked at his feet, as if his shoes were much more interesting than me.

"Does anyone live in here?" I tapped the door with 24 on it.

"No, it's empty but you don't have to take that one if you don't want to." Jack glued his eyes to the polished cement floor and ran his hand through his hair, a tick I was sure he picked up from Sam.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and putting my hands on my hips. I watched as a pink tint started to creep up Jack's neck.

"I don't want you to think that you have to stay in that one just because I want you too," He muttered.

"You want me to stay next to you?" I pointed out. Jack's expression went blank, his eyes wide as quarters.

"Um, I-I-I don't- I didn't mean--" Jack stumbled over his words. His gaze drilled straight into the floor, his hands were fidgeting, and his right foot twisted its toe against the concrete. His body language pointed at nervousness. Why was he this nervous? Was it me? He hadn't been this way before, what was different now? I decided to ease his nerves with a little humor. I stuck my hand into his line of sight and waved.

"Yoo, hoo! I'm up here, Jack." He flicked his eyes up to my face but kept his head down. "Well, not up per-say but you know what I mean," I joked. His smile was still pointed at the concrete. I guessed we'd just have to work on that.

"S-sorry." His laugh was a breathy one. I sighed, planting my hands on my hips.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Jack. It's nice to have someone who wants me around, I haven't had that in a long time." I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly way. Jack rocked back and forth on his heels and his mouth did that crooked smile of his. He even flicked his eyes up at me.

"Well, uh, what are friends for?" He sounded like he was reciting something he heard in a movie.

I wondered whether Jack was trying to flirt with me or not. A tiny part of me hoped that he was and another part of me kicked myself for hoping for that. How could I think that way? Jack was two, he was probably too young to understand feelings like that, if he even had them. He probably didn't have them. He was probably just doing his best to make a friend, by going off what he had seen. I mean, the movies are pretty against a boy and a girl simply being friends. Besides if he knew what I was, he wouldn't be standing here talking to me. He'd be trying to kill me. Isaac was right. Any friendship I made here, would never be real. It never could be.

"Right," I said softly. Now I was the one looking down at my feet. But I wasn't doing it out of nerves. I was doing it out of shame. Glancing up at him through my lashes, Jack's smile faltered for only a moment. He grasped the doorknob and turned it and as the door swung inward, Jack flipped a switch and the white florescent lights buzzed to life.

The room was simply decorated, and by that I mean it wasn't decorated at all. The walls, ceiling, and floor were grey and a built-in shelf stuck out from the far wall. In the center of the space sat a full-size bed with a plain white duvet, white sheets, and down pillows. There was a dresser pushed up against one wall, a desk pressed against the other, and a tiny night stand next to the bed, all of which were fashioned out of wood the shade of walnut.

"Um, it's not much, but we can get you some stuff to make it yours," Jack smirked down at me and I ducked past him into the room.

Other than those objects, the room was bare, but I found myself overwhelmed. My chest tightened and my eyes stung, it was so little, but it was more than I'd had in five years. I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders and placed my violin case on the bed. Keeping my back turned, my face hidden from Jack, I blinked rapidly to dispel my tears.

"It's wonderful, Jack. I-I love it." I took a deep breath and pasted a smirk on my face. When I had control of my emotions, I swung back to face him. "Now, how bout' that grand tour?" Jack's brows pushed together.

"Don't you want to put your things away, first?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Nah, I can do that anytime. This place is pretty awesome, I wanna see it all!" I grinned at him, pressing all the excitement I could muster into my voice. Jack grinned back.

"Well, um, what would you like to see first?"

"No idea! What's your favorite room?" Jack's eyes flicked to the side as he thought about his answer for a moment.

"The kitchen," He decided. His seriousness made me chuckle.

"I like the way you think. You lead, I'll follow!" This time, instead of smiling at the concrete, Jack smiled at my shoes! We were making good progress. Now if I could get him to smile at my face, then we would really be getting somewhere.

Jack swung around on his heel and walked about four paces before opening a door on the other side of the hall. This one was labeled with 23. 'So that's where it went.' I thought, as Jack pushed the door open and walked through. Inside was the kitchen. It wasn't the kind you have at home. No, this was one of those industrial sort of kitchens, all polished steel and florescent lighting. (The buzzing of those light bulbs was extremely annoying, but I would just have to get used to it.)

There were pots and pans everywhere. Any sort of cook where you could imagine was in there, hanging on racks, dangling from hooks, sitting on shelves, or habitually left on the stove. What looked like easily one hundred white plates were stacked neatly on the shelves of the giant stainless-steel island that dominated the space. Two ovens, stood side-by-side in a little nook, one of which had a griddle attached to the top. Hovering over the two ovens were large vents of gleaming steel.

To the right of the cooking station was the preparation area and a sink as big as your average tub. I'm not kidding. The thing was gargantuan. Above that monstrosity of a kitchen sink sat an array of porcelain cups, and a tissue box, on a shelf. To the right of that, there sat a large stainless steel shelving unit that was home to various cooking supplies and four white drawers in the middle.

On the far wall, was a brown bulletin board decorated with various notes, covered in scribbles and sketches, tacked to it. Beneath the bulletin was a table crafted from some dark colored wood, that was either oak or mahogany, and was attached to the wall. Affixed to the table were eight stool-like seats constructed from the same dark material as the table itself. Directly to the right side of the door, was a coat rack and six small lockers stacked vertically. The right wall was an archway and set of stairs that lead off into a hallway branching to the right and a different set of stairs to the left.

As I peered around to the left side of the door and past another steel shelf, I laid eyes upon what could only be the freezer/refrigerator combo. It was this enormous floor-to-ceiling white panel with five varying sized doors built into it. The far most door on the right was taller than me so I assumed that was the refrigerator and the other four doors were freezers. Why one would need four freezers, I had no idea, but I found myself liking the concept. Now that I had finished taking in the grossly oversized kitchen, I whirled to Jack and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. I stared him dead in the eyes.

"This. Place. Is. Awesome." I pointed at the refrigerator. "Five bucks says I could fit in there!" Jack's gaze followed my finger and he nodded.

"I think you could," He said. I took another glance around the space. I couldn't help it. The laugh bubbled up from my stomach, filled my chest, and bloomed in my throat. It had been a long, long, long, time since I had laughed like that.

"I went from having nothing, to living in this place! This is amazing!" I flung my arms around Jack. It was quite the feat on my part to refrain from crushing his ribs. I was so excited I could hardly contain it. I was bouncing up and down on my toes like a little girl! Though I guess, in the eyes of Jack and the others, that’s sort of what I was.

"I'm glad you like it!" Jack said, grinning.

"I don't like it, Jack. I love it!" I exclaimed. My stomach growled like an angry bear, just being in here was making me hungry. "Hey, as long as we're here, got anything good to eat? I'm starving!" That last bit was nothing new, I was always starving these days, always craving. But I was never craving food. Jack's throat suddenly looked extremely tasty. Thankfully, his voice broke me away from that train of thought.

"I like ice-cream," He said, brightly.

"Jack?”

"Hm?"

"We are gonna be awesome friends."

No, home wasn't a word I was used to. Not anymore. But I realized with a start, that for the first time in five years, I had one. A real one.

It looked like I was gonna have to get used to it.

Jack knelt down and opened the door on the bottom left of the freezer/refrigerator combo that I then dubbed 'The Wall of Cold Stuff'. He reached in, grabbed a tub of ice cream, then stood and kicked the door shut.

"The bowls are down there and the spoons are in the top left drawer," He said, pointing to the shelf in the back. I made my way over and grabbed two of each. We both sat at the table, across from each other, and Jack served up the ice cream. I then got the chance to glance at the ice cream's label. It was chocolate-chip-cookie-dough.

"This is my favorite flavor. What's yours?" I asked him, shoveling ice cream into my mouth and moaning as the sugary goodness coated my tongue. Jack must have found that funny because he ducked his head and laughed.

"I don't know. This one is pretty good, but I love the mint and brownie ones as well," He told me. I had noticed that Jack always took great care to think about his answers before he gave them. He took and asked every question seriously. I got the feeling that Jack was the sort of person who's curiosity was never satisfied.

"I can vibe with that," I agreed. Jack's brows furrowed, he placed his spoon down on the table, folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means. Could you explain it?" He asked. I liked the way he behaved when he was curious about something, Jack just dropped everything to learn and focused entirely on whatever it was he was trying to understand. Right now, that thing was me. I found that I didn't mind his undivided attention.

"Oh, um, it means that you agree with something somebody said. Its like saying 'you're right' or 'I agree with you' or 'that's cool'," I explained. Jack nodded.

"I think I understand." I gave him a thumbs up and scooped another spoonful of ice-cream into my mouth, closing my eyes and savoring the flavor with a deep sigh.

"You know, it's been five years since I last had ice cream," I said. Jack froze his ice cream eating with his spoon still stuck in his mouth, his expression morphing into one of horror and pity.

"That's awful!" He said, he'd removed the spoon, but his mouth was still full of the dessert, "No one should have to go without ice cream for that long!"

"My friend, you are absolutely right," I replied, pointing my spoon at him. "Here's to ice cream and sugar highs!" I tapped my bowl with the spoon and Jack copied me, albeit somewhat confused as to what I was doing. Speaking of sugar highs, I could already feel one building up already. It had been way too long since I'd had this much sugar.

"Marty?" Jack wanted my attention.

"Hm?"

"I had a dream about you last night," He said, changing the subject. I stared up at him, pulling my spoon out of my mouth.

"Should I be worried?"

"No."

"What was I doing in this dream of yours?" I asked, straining to keep the nervousness that was building in my chest out of my voice. Jack frowned, picking at his ice cream.

"You said-- You told me you were dangerous and I shouldn't trust you, that you're hiding something."

I bit my lip, my eyes widening with shock. I struggled to keep calm and natural, my reactions could give me away. Just as I'd settled my expression, Jack looked up. "I can trust you, right?" I smiled as genuinely as I could, which was difficult to do with his gaze piercing into my soul like it was.

"Of course, you can! I may be clever but I'm not exactly diabolical," I said, giving my best laugh. Jack smiled and nodded, though I got the notion that he was reassuring himself more than anything. If he was going to say something else, he never got the chance because at that moment, Sam strolled into the room.

He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of us at the table. Our heads snapped up at the same time and we froze. Jack had his spoonful halfway to his mouth and mine was already there. The three of us just stared at each other for a moment but Sam was the first to react.

"Come on guys, really?! It's six A.M.!" He exclaimed. I shrugged, removing the spoon from my mouth and pointing it at him.

"AM, PM. What's the difference? Live a little!" With that comment alone, Sam figured he wouldn't be getting anywhere with me, so he turned to Jack.

"Jack, come on, be an example." Jack glanced at his spoonful of dessert and shoved in in his mouth, quickly.

"Technically," He pointed out, directing his spoon at me, "She's older than me!"

"Hey!" I protested.

"What?"

"This was your idea!"

Jack shrugged. "I know, but you agreed. I was just stating a fact," he said. Sam sighed, shaking his head. The two of us turned our attention back to him.

"Jack, throw it away and put the container back in the freezer. If you want ice cream, you can have it at dinner. Not at six in the morning," He scolded. Jack swallowed his mouthful of ice cream.

"But Sam, look at how happy she is! Marty hasn't had ice cream for five years!" He tried. I nodded vigorously to emphasize the point.

"It's true, Sam. You only live once!" I said, shoving another bite of ice cream in my mouth. Sam's eyes flicked back and forth between us.

"Fine. Just this once," He sighed.

"Thanks Sam!" Jack and I grinned.

"Yeah, whatever." Sam rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, but I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. When he was gone, Jack sighed with relief.

"I take it you do this a lot," I said to him. He looked at the ice cream with a guilty expression.

"I wouldn't say a lot."

"But often enough for him not to be surprised?"

"Yeah." Jack grinned sheepishly.

"Does he always catch you?" I asked him.

"Every time, yes."

We finished our ice cream and put our dishes in the sink. Then, Jack proceeded to show me the rest of the bunker. Sometimes I would ask about what was in few of the rooms and he would reply with an 'I don't know' or a few times a rather disturbing 'You don't want to know'. To say that his cryptic warning had no effect on me would be a lie. He spoke the words in a light hearted way that just made me more worried. So, I tried to push any speculations as to the contents of those rooms from my mind but kept step slightly closer to Jack from then on.

He showed me a garage full of a bunch of old-timey cars that I found myself figuratively drooling over, a room full of antique electronic equipment he told me not to touch, an impressive gym with an adjacent shower room, an infirmary, a shooting range that looked like a lot of fun, something they called the 'War Room' which was where the glowy table was, the extensive library, and an alcove with an gigantic telescope that Jack claimed nobody could figure out how to use. According to him, the glowy table in the war room could supposedly track monsters, but the Winchesters weren't sure how to use it. Much to my relief.

Jack also showed me a room where I immediately knew I would be spending most of my time. Jack rather confusedly referred to it as 'The Dean Cave'. I later noticed the paper sign tacked on the back of the door that was labeled with said name. Inside there was a flat screen TV, two recliners, a bar that I'd never use, a foosball table which I would definitely use, a record-playing jukebox that I hoped had some decent tunes, and a shelf full of books. The whole room was lit by these cool red and blue lights that looked to be made out of beer kegs. This was a place I could get used to.

"Jack, I think I found my second favorite room," I said, trailing my fingers along the rim of the foosball table.

"You'll have to ask Dean if you can use the T.V. he and Sam are still trying to figure it out." Jack sat cross-legged on one of the ugly plaid recliners.

"Remind me to help em' with that. I'm tech-y," I replied, walking over to observe the jukebox. I didn't know most of the titles displayed on the devices list of records, but my eyes landed on one that I'd know even if it was written in Chinese. "Oh my gosh! Jack, how do I use this thing?!" I squealed, excitedly. Jack hopped up to help me.

"You turn this knob to select which one you want, then you press this button to start it," He explained. I followed his instructions and watched the machine grab the record and put it on that spinning thing before it dropped the needle. I grinned ear to ear as sweet music filled the air.

~Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together In the kind of world where we belong?~

"What's this one called?" Jack asked over the notes.

"Wouldn't it be nice, by The Beach Boys! It's one of my favorites!" I was surprised that it was here considering Dean's bias when it came to music.

~You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together~

"I dare you to sing along, Jack-Jack." I grinned and nudged his shoulder.

"No thank you," He said, shaking his head with a pleasant smile.

~Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through~

"Awww! Why not?"

"I don't know the words." He shrugged.

~Happy times together we've been spending I wish that every kiss was never ending Oh, wouldn't it be nice?~

"Fine!" I sighed in over dramatic disappointment, flopping onto one of the recliners. "But that excuse is only gonna work once!"

Jack chuckled, leaning his arms on the back of the recliner to look down at me. "I guess I better come up with more excuses then!"

~Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray It might come true Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do Oh, we could be married (oh, we could be married) And then we'd be happy (and then we'd be happy) Oh, wouldn't it be nice?~

"You can't evade me forever," I declared, kicking my feet back and forth to the beat of the song.

"True," Jack agreed, nodding. "But I can try."

"And try you will, young Skywalker," I said.

"I like Star Wars!" Jack noted, suddenly seeming to shift from being older than me to younger by about five years. It was an odd thing to watch.

"Who doesn't?"

~Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby~

The music faded away but I maintained eye contact with Jack in a spontaneous staring contest. Why? Because, naturally the first one to break was a weakling and I was not going to take that title on my first day with these people.

"Is this a staring contest?" Jack asked, tilting his head a bit. He didn't blink.

"Indeed. We maintained eye contact for longer than twenty-eight seconds, so it's obligatory," You replied, still refusing to blink.

"I did not know that those were the rules," Jack said, sounding somewhat confused.

"Well, they're not. That's just how my family always played." You were quick to clear your throat and rid your tone of any sadness that slipped past your defenses.

"Oh, I see."

"I take it you two are having fun."

"Agh!" I shot up from my reclined position in shock and whipped to the doorway where I took in the sight of Castiel standing just outside the door frame, the ghost of a smile visible on his otherwise expressionless face. How long had he been watching? Embarrassment warmed my cheeks and I hoped we hadn't looked like idiots.

"Hey Cas! I don't know about Jack, but I'm having the time of my life!" I said. Then I turned to Jack. "Whattdya' say, buddy? Am I torturing you?"

"I've been tortured before, this isn't anything close to what that was like! Don't worry, Marty. You're a lot of fun." He stated, matter-of-factly. My eyes went wide and I tilted my head at him. I mean, what was I even supposed to say to something like that? "Oh, and you I won the staring contest." I found myself nodding slowly.

"Well, good for you. And that's got to be the weirdest complement I think I've ever gotten, but I'll take it." Jack grinned at me in his lopsided way and I turned my attention back to the other angel in the room. "Any particular reason for this visit or were ya just passing?"

"Sam asked me to check up on you two," Cas answered.

"Alright. Well, I was just about to ask Jack to help me find my way back to my room."

Cas simply nodded and walked off.

"So, why do you like that song so much?" Jack inquired as we strode back through the endless identical hallways.

"It was in one of my mom's favorite movies so she was always singing it. I love the tune as well and sometimes, when I'm sad, the words make me feel better," I answered. Jack frowned.

"I don't understand song lyrics. They never make sense to me."

"Would you like me to explain it to you?"

"Yes." Jack nodded and once again gave me all his attention.

"So, that song is about two young people who feel like they're living their lives stuck in place. There's so much they want to do but everybody says they're just to young to do it. They feel like they've outgrown the stage of life that they're in and they just want to move on. By being stuck where they are, they're afraid they'll miss their opportunity for happiness. So they dream about a day when they'll finally be free to do whatever they want, even if they that day may never come around." My thoughtful tone surprised me.

I hadn't meant to put so much of my own emotion into my explanation of the lyrics. If I kept on like this, the hunters would figure me out in no time. But there was just something about Jack, about the way he listened to my every word, that made me want to tell him everything about everything. I was weak around him. He made me let my guard down. I'd have to learn how to keep it up if I wanted to survive.

"Do you feel stuck sometimes?" Jack asked. His tone was sincere but his expression gave me no clues a s to what he was hoping to learn from his question. I nodded.

"I used to feel like I was living a loop, like every day was the same. It sucked." I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. "But then four weirdos in an Impala showed up and my life is finally moving again!"

~With every small disaster I'll let the waters still Take me away to someplace real

Cause' they say home is where your heart is set in stone Its where you go when you're alone Its where you go to rest your bones Its not just where you lay your head Its not just where you make your bed As long as we're together does it matter where we go?~

Lyrics from: Home by Jasmine Thompson

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who-ya-gonna-call-winchesters · 4 years ago

Text

Butting Heads- dean winchester x reader

Our first renaissance fic, that is to say it’s set way back before things got complicated. Pre season 4. Anyway, Y/n, Bobby’s niece, grew up with the boys, and now that Sam is back in the game she’s along for the ride. Problem is she has a habit of giving Dean a run for his money, but despite their constant bickering they both know that she’s the only thing holding Dean together. fluff, small angst

Word Count: 2,350

masterlist

Dean and you didn't have the greatest relationship as friends. You always argued and yelled about things related to hunts or things that had nothing to do with anything. But unknowingly, you both cherished each other's company. You had been there since they were kids, there when Sammy went off to college, there when John first disappeared. There for everything bad but the long, silent nights in the Impala were some of your best memories. The both of you singing along to classic rock, like complete dorks, were his best memories. It was times like those when you forgot about fighting. Times when you were both shit faced drunk and stumbling over one another, or when you both teased Sammy for being a gigantor nerd, or comforting each other in the darkness after a nightmare. You two were very similar, strong-willed, hard headed, shoot first ask questions later, stubborn hunters with daddy issues and mommy issues and every other kind of issue you could think of hidden behind a bottle of Jack Daniels and an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude.

Sometimes you would realize that he was the only one who really understood what you were going through because he had been going through it too. As much as Dean didn’t like to admit it, he knew that too.

“You could have gotten all of us killed back there!”, Dean said gruffly, supporting a limping Sam with one arm and shouldering a duffel bag with the other.

“Me?” You fiddled with the hotel room key before finally getting it open, helping them both inside. “If you weren’t such a self sacrificing bone head, we wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place!”

Dean lowered Sam gently onto one of the beds and slammed the duffel onto the other. “If you would just do as you’re told-”

“So I’m supposed to let you die because you think you can handle a whole werewolf on your own?”, you interrupted him, voice growing higher with anger.

“It was one werewolf! Sammy got hurt, you were supposed to get him back to the car. Not leave him there to bleed out and put not only him but yourself in danger doing something I could have easily done just to prove yourself!”

Sam groaned as he was brought into this, “Dean, relax. I wasn’t going to ‘bleed out’. You’re being ridiculous”, he said as you helped tend to his leg. He had a long gash down his thigh to his knee and probably more than a couple broken ribs. He’d definitely need stitches, which you started on as soon as you could get your hands on the med kit.

“You were gonna be werewolf lunch in a few seconds if I hadn’t stepped in when I did, or worse. And I don’t have to prove myself, Dean, I’m as good a hunter as you if not better any day. Just thank me for saving your life and get over yourself”, you said, pouring whiskey over Sam’s cut to disinfect it as best you could. He hissed in pain but stayed still enough to not tear the stitches you had just finished.

“I had it covered”, Dean scoffed.

“That’s why I had to gank the bastard instead of you”, you retorted, not even bothering to look up from bandaging Sammy.

“That’s why you almost got yourself killed! Sam could have been stitched up long before and we wouldn’t have to worry about him losing so much blood or risk getting an infection! If you’re such a better hunter than me then you’d know what's more important! Your partners’ lives or your ego! You say that you’re better but that’s why you almost botched the last couple hunts we’ve gone on! You say that you’re better but that’s why Bobby saddled us with you, because he knew you couldn’t take care of yourself and you’re too stubborn to stay put and help where you’re actually useful!”, Dean’s last words cut into you like a knife.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you’d be damned if you cried in front of him, so you stood up and turned your back to him, calmly packing the first aid supplies back into the kit. A deathly silence fell across the room. Sam was holding the last breath he drew in, his gaze flickering between you and Dean, waiting for you to blow up in the older brother’s face. But you didn’t. And that's when Dean realized the magnitude of his words.

“I didn’t mean that, Y/N”, he said softly, guilt flooding his body.

You said nothing and only finished what you were doing and shoved past him to go out the door. He turned to go after you, but Sam stopped him.

“Dude, I think you should just give her a little while to calm down after that”, Sam advised, “What the hell was that about? You know you were struggling with the werewolf.”

“I know, Sammy. But she could have gotten hurt”, Dean said, wiping his hand down his face in shame.

“And so could you, Dean. She saved both of us tonight, she’s not a damsel, she's a hunter. A damn good one at that. You owe her a big apology, huge actually.”

“I know.”

You didn’t go back for a few more hours. You spent most of your time walking the streets of the rinky dink town you were stopped in, trying to rationalize what happened. Maybe Dean was right, you could have seriously endangered all three of you. But he was struggling and you couldn’t imagine what you would do if you just stood by as he got hurt or killed or even bitten. You knew Dean didn’t mean what he said. He had a habit of saying things he didn’t mean when he was upset. It didn’t mean that his words didn’t hurt you though. It was well past dark when you realized you needed to go back, you had left your cell phone and that was stupid with the condition Sam was in. As you walked up to the hotel you saw Dean rush out, keys to the impala in hand. He looked pretty frantic until he saw you from across the parking lot. He stopped and dropped the keys, running over to you.

“Dean, I-”

He cut you off when he wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground a couple inches before setting you back down.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m an idiot. You’re so useful to us and you’re an amazing hunter and an amazing woman. I was just so worried about Sammy, and worried about what could have happened if you got hurt and I let my mouth get the best of me. I didn’t mean what I said. I owe you after killing that thing, I probably would have made a mess of everything if you hadn’t stepped in”, he rambled off, looking you in the eyes. You had never seen him looking so sincere and guilty before.

After a long pause, you sighed, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I’m a grown ass man and I need to learn to think before I speak.”

“That may be so, but you’re also the most thick headed man I’ve ever met. I know you didn’t mean what you said. I accept your apology, we’re all under a lot of stress right now. But we’ve both said things we don’t mean to each other before, Dean. I don’t expect that to just go away. You’re not gonna go all soft on me after a spat that we’ll forget about in the morning. That’s not to say that next time you talk to me like that I won’t knock you on your ass”, you said, a small smile growing on your face.

Dean chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, “I’m surprised you didn’t this time, to be honest. But are you sure-”

“Dean, shut up. It’s fine. I don’t care anymore, I just want to take a shower and go to bed right now. No hard feelings”, you promised.

“Alright. I bought dinner earlier, left some in the microwave for you. Sam’s knocked out, I dosed him up with some pain killers. He should sleep through the night, so showers all yours. The bed too if you want it, I owe you.”

“Not a shot in the dark, Winchester. I didn’t let you take the bed the last time I chewed you out when it was my turn. The bed is yours fair and square, tonight.”

The three of you had a sacred system of who got one of the two beds in the room and who got the pullout. You hadn’t broken the streak yet, and you weren’t going to break it tonight just because Dean wanted to baby you all over an argument.

Dean grinned, “I was hoping you’d say that, my shoulder is killin me tonight and I hate those pull outs.”

Dean was out when his head hit the pillow, which was surprising, usually it took him at least twenty minutes to fall asleep. But after the hunt today, you could understand. You had trouble keeping yourself awake and twice you caught yourself nodding off, once while halfway through your cold burger that served as dinner and once more in the shower. When you finally laid down on the pull out couch, it didn’t take you long to fall into a deep sleep.

Although not as deep as you thought. You woke up to darkness and didn’t understand why. You were never the type to wake up in the middle of the night, unless something was wrong. But no one appeared to be in immediate danger when you sat up and listened carefully. Sam was snoring away as per usual but that was about it. You were about to lay back down and go back to sleep when you heard it. A whimper.

“Y/N”, a gruff voice called out in the dark.

“What do you want, Winchester?”, you answered.

But then he only called out for you again, louder this time, more panicky. You had heard that before. Dean was no stranger to nightmares, and Sam had become so used to them over the years that he didn’t wake up anymore.

“No...Y/N…”

You stood up and padded over to Dean’s bed, placing your hand on his shoulder to shake him gently awake. It didn’t seem to work though and his face contorted in distress more than it already had.

“Dean, I’m right here. Wake up”, you said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“You can’t leave me...please.”

You pressed your hand against his cheek comfortingly, “Dean!”

His hand shot up and wrapped around your wrist and his eyes shot open, he was breathing raggedly.

“Y/N? You… you were gone”, he said, sitting up abruptly, there were tears in his eyes. “After what I said to you, you left and you didn’t come back. I came to look for you and the werewolf it came back and you were just laying there.” He was leaving out the details but he didn’t have to say anymore for you to get the jist of the dream.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, I’m okay. I’m right here and I’m alive”, you cooed.

“But you were-”, you cut him off before he could say anymore.

“It was just a dream, Dean”, you moved his hand to rest on your chest, just above your heart. Normally, you would have shied away from any sort of touch like this with Dean, but that was during the daytime or in front of people. You knew when to put your differences aside and you knew what helped Dean during his times of need. “Feel that? Still beating. Everything is okay.”

Dean sighed in relief and wrapped you in his arms, “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t handle losing you after what I said before.”

“I told you I forgive you. That stupid old brain of yours is just trying to make you feel bad.”

“Yeah. I guess”, Dean muttered. He held you for a few moments and you stayed in silence until, “Will you stay with me?”

You smiled, “Scoot over.”

You spent the rest of the night leaned up against the headboard of the bed, Dean’s head on your chest with your hands running gently through his hair to soothe him. When his breathing hadn’t evened out enough for your like you drew a short breath and began to sing softly like you knew Mary once had a long long time ago.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better.”

You felt him relax more under your touch and it was working, just like it always did.

“Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better.”

By the second chorus he was sleeping soundly but you repeated the song twice more to be sure and never stopped playing with his hair.

Sam woke up at daybreak but he wasn’t in any condition to get on the open road yet and you still had one more night booked in the hotel. You shushed him when he spoke, gesturing at the still sleeping Dean in your arms.

“Bad dream?”, he whispered, having found you two in this position before.

You nodded as best you could without wanting to disturb the sleeping Winchester, his eyelashes fluttered against your collarbone and his arms were still wrapped around your waist tightly, he hadn’t moved in the night save for snuggling deeper into your chest in his sleep. You stayed up all night with him just in case he had another dream or if Sam woke up and needed more painkillers.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy. We’ll leave later. You need to rest in order to heal anyway.”

When both brothers were asleep again, you let yourself drift off.

Yeah, you and Dean butted heads more often than not, but you both knew how much you needed each other.

this is actually the preface to a fic i started writing more than 5 years ago so there’s a poorly written angsty part 2 to this is anyone is interested

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fluff #supernatural fluff

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maximumninjavoid · 4 years ago

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Mining for Unobtanium Chapter 28

Oh ho......... Why yes, I am. And here’s some more for you thirsty wenches. The twenty Eight installment of my fic. I know, right? I just can’t stop.

Un Beta’s, we die like chocolate in a child’s pocket.

The usual warnings, I suppose18 AND OVER, nsfw, BDSM and all that,

Dinner was lovely. The roast turned out perfectly, precisely mid rare, and while Henry wasn't looking someone must have given Kal trimmings. I have no idea who that could have been. Oh. I imagine you're wondering about whether or not we talked about ethical ownership over dinner. We didn't. Someone was still butt hurt that the whole cock warming thing didn't go the way he had read about it. When there's no friction, even as randy of a buck as he is, one's member won't stay throbbing and tumescent. And if I'm not supposed to move, well, then, that's less friction. So,it sounded good in theory, but it was not as fun as he thought, having me kind of in his way and not really getting any benefit. I could sort of sense that it wasn't entirely what he had planned, and so, good girl that I was being, I got up, apologizing profusely for OBVIOUSLY doing something incorrectly, and laying myself face down over his lap for *correction*. We're always at least three steps ahead of you. Don't kid yourselves. He place one hand between my shoulder blades and told me to count and that other hand came down on my ass like a big meaty brick. "One, Sir". He smacked my ass again. "Two, Sir" I could feel him getting hard now, so I squirmed and wiggled, because, friction. He slipped his hand between my cheeks and commented about how this was getting me wet, and smacked my ass again and then fingered my cunt. "Three, Sir, I'm sorry" and I can feel my walls gripping his fingers, and I'm thinking maybe he's not thinking about spanking me anymore. As sure as God made little green apples, he grabs a fist full of my hair, right at the base, oh GOD THAT FEELS so good, I moaned and he practically tosses me over the arm of the sofa and jams that huge dick all the way home, one stroke. I gasped. Ok, maybe I screamed. But, not in a bad way, and he had one hand at my waist the other in my hair and I was definitely going to be walking differently Every snap of his hips shoved his cock to my cervix, and threatened to split me in two. And I kept trying to push back for more. "Oh God Daddy, please..." "Please, what?" Please let me cum all over your cock, Daddy" "You're forgiven darling, cum for Daddy." And I came apart, Shuddering, tears, unglued. And he roared like some animal, and I felt him pulsing ropes of his seed into me, and he collapsed on top of me like a weighted blanket with hair. This was heaven, surely. Consciousness returned. He got up, I moved to get something to clean up with, I brought him a drink and a damp towel, because, service. I asked permission to check on dinner and popped out for a few drags off a cigarette. I plated and served dinner and returned to tell him that his dinner was ready. There was only his place set at the table. He gave me that eyebrow thing again. "Assumptions, remember? It may not be my place to dine with you. What if you were having guests? What if you preferred I sit at your feet and eat only what you feed me from your hand? " "If I have guests?" "Sir. If you wished it, I would cook for guests. And serve." "Wearing what you're wearing now?" "That would be your choice, and I'm not wearing anything now. I could wear only what you allow, choose or what you tell me." It was a bit to process. He bade me get a plate and eat with him, and we talked about the scripts, and the music I had picked and he didn't appear to want to talk about heavier things. So we had a delightful dinner, filled with small talk. It was comfortable and I enjoyed every minute I spent in his company. He was so well versed, about so many topics. I tried to tempt him with dessert. I should have known he would refuse. I sent him off to relax and do whatever and I did the washing up, tidied up the kitchen and asked if he wanted tea or coffee. He asked me to come sit with him, and I did. Happily. We watched a movie, cuddled on the couch, heaven. I asked to get up for a moment, he nodded. I got upstairs before he did and turned down the bed. I fluffed his pillows and smoothed the duvet, and went back down to tell him that all was ready for him to retire, unless there was anything else. Did he want a bath? A massage? He looked at me and took my hand and said " Come darling, let's go to bed" I followed him, with my hand in his, We got to the bed and I asked his permission. "What?" " Well, you didn't say that this is where I sleep. If you'd prefer, I could sleep at the foot of the bed, or, if I had not earned it, then I should sleep on the floor. One never assumes. Privileges are gifts." " You really ARE a good girl, aren't you? I'm never going to get to spank you again " " Not for disobeying, no. But I am yours to do with as you see fit. If you desire to spank me, or flog me, or what have you, you don't need a reason." "Well there's my plan for tomorrow then" and he pulled me into his arms and kissed me thoroughly. We got into bed all wrapped up in each other, Kal making room for himself and safe and happy I drifted off to sleep. I awoke the next morning melting. Between the blast furnace that was Henry and the baby bear known as Kal I swear, I was going to melt. I had to figure out how to get out from between them, one of them tightened their grip and the other one made a growly noise. I pried his arm loose and inelegantly slid out of the bottom of the bed. I headed for the shower and my morning routine, and managed not to wake either bear. I tiptoe downstairs, made coffee and brought a cup for him and set it on the nightstand. I couldn't help myself. I just stood there and looked at him. Committed it to memory. Tried to burn it into my brain. I thought about waking him up with a blow job, but figured Kal needed to go out . I tossed on a hoodie and jeans and took the puppy for his morning ritual. When I got back, I took off my clothes, put them away and brought fresh coffee for His Lordship. He was in the shower, so I stepped in to wash his back. "Good morning ! Did you sleep well?" "Mmm yes, I did but it was odd waking up in the bed by myself" "Oh, do tell? Hot and cold running starlets Sir?" He laughed."No, I was referring to Kal. And you, of course." "Oh, I melted. You both throw off a great deal of heat. " He turned and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, and came in closer, loving the feel of his chest against mine, the hair on this chest making my nipples hard. I slid down the front of him taking him in my mouth and cupping his balls with my hand . Eagerly I began to slide my mouth up and down his member, loving the feel of him growing as I sucked. He leaned back against the tile and held my face in his hands . I looked up at him and he began to fuck my face. Breathe through your nose, if you don't breathe through your nose on the down stroke you'll gag, and that's NOT sexy. I tried to relax and take him deeper down my throat but the angle wasn't great. I settled for wrapping my other hand around what wouldn't fit and trying to coordinate my movements. He began thrusting faster, and I felt his muscles tense. Protein for breakfast. My favorite! I ducked out of the shower, dried myself and had a towel waiting to hand him, brought his coffee in from the bedroom, kissed his shoulder and asked what he wanted for breakfast and when. " My God, woman, you spoil me so. I could get used to this." After breakfast we started playing with toys. We went through a bunch of impact toys, floggers of various weights and feels, stingy, thuddy, canes, paddles, from neck to knees I was quite marked. We did a bit with different kinds of restraint, but I admit, I'm not that great of a teacher. Bondage and restraint has never been my thing. In between toys, or implements, Henry was very sweet and caring, telling me how good I did and being very affectionate. It was loads of fun, really. I don't bottom that often, he's a very apt pupil, I was so incredibly turned on. My thighs were shiny with arousal, I swear, if he'd have so much as looked at me right, I would have cum without him touching me. My cunt was throbbing and it was all I could do not to try and squeeze one off. There were a couple of bumps, I suppose. I mean, I expected them, really. Henry really liked caning. I don't know if it's cultural, or a boarding school thing, but he really liked it. He probably would have loved it more if he got to push my skirt up over my hips and yank down my knickers, but he was SO enthusiastic, that I wound up with some really nasty ugly bruises a day or two later. Remember, canes, that's deep tissue bruising, hard to see immediate results. Luckily I'm an indestructible old beast, and the wince when I sat just made me wet. Henry felt terrible, poor dear. That wasn't the bad one. The bad one was my four foot signal whip. It had been hand made for me, always behaved like an extension of my arm. But while I call it a toy, that's a weapon. I mean, I have other weapons in my toy bag. Knives, scalpels, needles, but Henry was really drawn to this whip. We negotiated. I walked him through its use, we discussed where not to strike, we talked about how that crack is the end of the whip breaking the sound barrier, and I put a brand new cracker on it, in case he broke skin. Because, no blood transfer. We aren't fluid bonded in that way. He was doing really well, and I was really enjoying that fiery kiss of each strike. I knew I'd have some lovely marks, too. But then Gigantor leaned into one. Doesn't really know his own strength. It's not his fault. But the whip did what the whip does, and opened up a three inch slice on my hip, and you could see meat. That was going to leave a Mark. Henry dropped the whip and rushed to me, taking me down from the frame we had fashioned. I was according to him a bit pale. He scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom and cleaned up the wound. I bit my lip and didn't scream, but I knew he was going to have difficulties moving forward. I'm on bloodthinners. And I knew it wasn't going to stop easily. He applied pressure and I told him why it wasn't working properly and where the steri strips were in my things. He's got great hands. He really does. Handles himself well in a crisis. Very solid. So I'm all put back together and now he's fussing. He's taking care of me, while I should still be taking care of him. Haven't let me get up, much less do anything, and he's really being way too hard on himself for something that frankly could have happened to anyone. "Henry. HENRY. Darling boy, STOP." And with that tone of voice ,he stopped, and the control was once again not his. " Come here, please, love" Henry came and sat next to me. "I'm sorry. I apologize for 'pulling rank' but I couldn't get you to stop fussing. Please, love. I'm fine. I promise. I won't ever lie to you. This is not that kind of a relationship. In fact, I've quite fallen for you, and that is going to hurt worse than this oops ever could. Why you've stolen my heart Cavill. And every minute that I have with you is a precious gift. Please, STOP berating yourself. Everyone, and I mean everyone had a story like this to tell. Now you have yours. It's a rite of initiation I guess. If you meet someone down the road and they say they're one of us, ask them for their oops story. If they don't have one, they've never played." " Now if I were a horrid human, I'd pout and say you should take pity on me and feed me, and then make love to me to make it all better, but ill settle for help me up so I can go to the bathroom and freshen up?"

@fishcustardandclintbarton @indigosaurus @whyyoudothistomecavill @michellemybelles-world @henrythickcavill @angryschnauzer @littlefreya

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic

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preface2adreamplay · 5 years ago

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No More Light (Chapter 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: John is on a stakeout. But finds his attention is on a woman who moves into an apartment below the one he’s meant to be watching.

John Winchester & original fictional character. Eventual smut, plenty of angst.

Warning: A lot of swearing, injury detail.

Word Count: 1,623

SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

‘You got any food?’

I sighed, a vision of the empty refrigerator came into my head. ‘Nope, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t get to the convenience store on account of keeping my eye out for some dodgy guys across the way, and looky what I picked up instead.’ Smiling over at her, she sneered at me, it was almost a smile though. She thought I was charming, she just didn’t want to let me know that.

‘I wanna go home.’

‘Be my guest.’

She didn’t move from where she was laying across the couch, a hand running through her hair. Eyes open but not seeing.

It had been a few hours since she woke up.

‘I need to use your bathroom. I hope it’s clean.’

I gave her a lopsided grin, I take pride in my appearance these days, my bathroom has gotta be clean. Nodding in the direction of the w.c. I continued looking around the street. The sun would be up in a couple of hours and there was still no sign of the boys I was waiting for, I could almost give up. But now I had something else to do. I heaved a sigh, thinking I should offer her the bed and I could sleep on the couch.

I am tall, not as tall as my boys though, at least I could fit comfortably if I swung my legs over the arm or bunch my knees up a bit.

Her sudden reappearance jolted me out of my thoughts.

‘So what’s your plan? You gonna keep me here forever?’

‘You can leave any time you wish, but those boys are still in your apartment, making a fuckin’ mess from what I can tell. Why were they carrying you off into the night?’

Her mouth opening and closing, fingers pushing into the pockets of her jeans. She couldn’t make eye contact. Whatever bravado she had raised in herself while in the bathroom was gone. Damn, she was scared.

‘I don’t…’

‘Well, we have two options. Confront them or wait it out. Which do you prefer?’

Those big blue eyes darted over to the window and back to me. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice low.

She seemed like a kid, a scared kid.

‘Listen, you gotta tell me if you know these guys and what they want. Otherwise, you’ll end up running for good. And that’s no life.’ I was starting to get a headache, I needed a nap, a shower, a sandwich.

She didn’t say anything, just started nibbling at her nails.

‘Ok, fine.’ I leaned back and reached for the door handle, turning it and opening the door.

‘I’m on a job right now, sweetheart, I tried to help you.’

Her eyes flashed wide, ‘are you kicking me out?’

‘I don’t know what else to do with you.’ Scratching my neck, I looked down at the floor, I could see her foot tapping.

‘I thought you helped people!’ Her eyes narrowed at me.

‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s up.’ I reasoned.

I could see her will leaving her body.

Stepping closer to her, she slumped slightly, her hands resting by her sides.

‘How old are you anyway?’

Eyes trailing across my beard to my mouth, she was so damn kissable.

‘Twenty,’ she cleared her throat. ‘Twenty six.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Twenty six…you’re sure?’

‘That much I’m sure of.’

I heaved a sigh, she was so damn frustrating. But at least I didn’t have to scold myself for bein’ interested. Young as she was.

‘Those men that came for me, they work for my brother.’

Finally.

‘My brother is well known where I come from, powerful, dangerous and he seems to think he has ownership of me. So, I left. I thought I was doing ok until that day that I fell into the street…and you…’

I nodded, ‘do you think the guy that scared you was something to do with your brother?’

‘Definitely, I thought I recognised him, but I knew it couldn’t be right. I mean, I drove for days and stopped here, in a town I have never even heard of to hide out for a while.’

‘Your brother must be powerful, as you say. If he found you in the ass end of nowhere.’

‘I think it was bad luck, for me anyway.’

‘Coincidence that one of your brothers goons would be here?’

Her breathing was ragged, panic setting in again. ‘Fuck, what am I gonna do?’

I put my hand on her arm, fingers squeezing her flesh gently. ‘I got you, you’re ok.’

Without warning, she threw herself at me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders. Her golden tresses brushing against my mouth, tickling my cheeks.

‘I’m safe with you.’ She stated.

‘Yeah you are, darlin.’

Blowing out a breath, she let go, holding up her hands as an apology for getting too close.

‘Listen, I got nothing to eat here, would you be ok if I went to the store, grabbed a few things and came back. I’ll be gone ten minutes, max.’

I picked up my gun.

Settling onto the couch, wiggling her butt to get comfortable she looked up at me. ‘I’ll be ok.’

She didn’t sound convinced but I left anyway, closing the door behind me.

And what the fuck happened next, you may wonder. Well, when I closed that door the first of the traps I’d set went off in the complex in front of me. I saw the blood splatter across the kitchen window. Another flash, boom and more blood.

I bolted over the railing and ran over to the door, I haven’t lost any speed, you can’t when you’re in this line of work.

The fuckers must have slipped back in when I was caught up in Red’s hair. I knew that wasn’t her name but that’s what I was calling her in my head.

By my count the traps had taken out two fuckheads, I didn’t know how many were meant to be showing up so I took the stairs pretty quick to see if I could catch any stragglers.

Turns out it was just the two piles of blood and guts. I counted 2 boxes of blood bags. I took both of them and made my way back down to the truck, throwing each of them under the tarp.

There was a beat up Ford truck I hadn’t seen before parked near the entrance. I shimmied the lock and found 2 more boxes in the trunk. Yeah, I took those too.

Job done. I should have been outta there.

But I couldn’t leave her.

I looked up at the windows, reflecting the first light of sunrise. The gravel crunched under my feet as I moved to push the butt of the gun against my shoulder pointing it up at the man standing right outside the door. He had his face pushed up against the glass, I heard her scream when he grabbed a hold of the handle and tore the door open.

‘Hey!’ I let out a warning, he either didn’t hear me or he didn’t care. He was inside. I could hear her crying out, damnit, she was crying out for me.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I got there just in time for him to try push past me, I got a shot off at him but it went a little wider than I’d hoped. His shoulder exploded in a flash of red. Howling with anger, the big fucker came toppling down on me. He had Red by the arm, his vice like grip never letting up. The whole scene could have played out in a funny sorta way, if you weren’t trapped under an ugly giant that was bleeding all over you.

Red was crying, punching at him with such ferocity I never thought her capable of.

That was when another man appeared, the second of the douche’s I had taken out earlier.

‘There you are you little bitch, just wait til I get you home.’ He hauled her off her feet, his hands wrapped around her hair. ’John, help!’

I pushed gigantor away from me with every bit of strength I had. He wasn’t dead, oh no, he just wasn’t sure whether he was gonna kill me first or try help his buddy push Red into their car and make off with her.

He decided on the former. I saw his fist coming down at me, but luckily he was slow, I rolled my body away from him and heard the crack of his hand against the metal stairwell. Oh boy did that make him mad. Not only was his shoulder shot out, but now his hand was broken too.

The other guy had dragged Red down the stairs, if there was anyone else living in the neighbourhood, they weren’t getting involved in the fight.

‘Hey!’ I shouted again, the guy didn’t stop, he just turned to look at me. The gun was pointed at him, ‘I’ll shoot if you don’t let her go.’

He smiled at me and forced Red into the car, a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind.

I knew how to get out of a bear hug. I slipped down to the ground, going limp as a dead fish. Gigantor didn’t know what was going down so he just stood there, letting me get away with it.

I bolted. Down the stairs and to my truck. He banged on the hood a couple of times as I sped away, chasing down Red.

Her crying was still banging around in my head, why the hell was I chasing this girl? What kinda trouble was I getting myself into?

***

Next Chapter.

#john winchester #winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fiction #john winchester x ofc #john winchester fiction #john winchester fic #john Winchester smut #jeffrey dean morgan

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shy-violet-soul · 5 years ago

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Under the Influence

Summary: When Rae gets hurt, one brother comes to the rescue. Will relocations and pharmaceuticals pry some growing feelings into the open for the other brother? Characters: OFC Rae Himmel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Warnings: description of injury/treatment, bad language words, pharmaceuticals, Winchester shenanigans, mutual pining, fluffity fluff fluff A/N: Oft requested, here is a continuation of Rae >>> and the Winchester brothers! Other tales about Rae & the brothers can be found on my MASTERLIST.

A huge thank you to the effervescent, enthusiastic, & estimable @pinknerdpanda for beta-ing this for me. So many panda-hugs to you, girl!

gif credit: https://tenor.com by CasMcKenzie5

Now The feel of the metal stairs scraped pleasantly under his boots as he trotted down into the war room. A long overdue supply run had kept him out for a bit - the latest batch of credit cards awaited them at the post office. Both brothers needed new socks, and the sporting goods store also had the best deal on rock salt in the hunting section. Yahoo for DIY deer licks. Shifting box, bag, and bundle, he strode his way into the library.

“Anybody home?” No answer. A brief flicker of surprise shrugged his shoulders as the items plunked and rustled to the table. Apple, cinnamon, and rosemary in the air tickled his nose, stretching a smile up into crinkles by his eyes. Rae had been busy. He’d been hoping to catch some time with her today. The silence in the bunker told him he had enough time to clean up a bit before he invited her to watch that new Marvel movie with the nonchalance he’d practiced and perfected in the car. Plan in place, he hastened his steps towards the hall before the smug, teasing brother gaze found him.

And there she was. Sprawled out on the hallway floor like a cute little pile of laundry. With her left arm bent and bandaged to her torso and a magnificent blue bruise decorating her left eye.

“Rae?”

“Hiya, there! Oh, crap, it’s him.”

45 minutes ago Bopping along to Bobby Darin, Rae gave a satisfied nod to the rosemary apple pie steaming expectantly on the counter. Hopefully, the unique recipe would dodge scorn from the brothers. A stack of Men of Letters files waiting for research were calling her name. She hip-checked an open drawer closed, scooted the towel over the oven door handle to dry, and grabbed her phone. As she turned towards the library door, the “pantry” shelves caught her attention. The jar of molasses on the top shelf had tipped over - if that sucker kamikazed and broke, that would be actual hell to clean up.

Sighing, Rae glanced over her shoulder at the folding step stool that lived behind the sink. For the boys, with their muscles for days, it was easy to extricate. For her? She’d wrenched stuck paper from copier guts more easily. Rae didn’t hesitate; she scrabbled up the shelves and reached towards the jar.

Rae would later be ready to swear on Dean’s sacred stack of vinyls that stupid jar jumped. Right off the shelf. Onto her face.

In the heartbeat it took for the pain to hit her vocal cords, Rae reared back instinctively, one foot slipping from its perch. Her feet probably could have skated for purchase and saved her if her hand hadn’t decided to kung-fu-grip the shelf on her way down. Pain ripped through her left shoulder in the same heartbeat the pain in her face caught up, mixed with the fear the brief freefall sparked. Her scream echoed through the bunker as she hit the floor. Actually, first the weird metal pole in front of the shelves, then hit the floor.

Pounding bootfalls ran in her direction.

“Rae! What the hell?!”

Now “Molasses ain’t slow, Winchester. It’s faster than two shakes of a tog’s dail. Tail’s dog. Is that right? I think that’s right.”

Her eyes had sagged shut during her speech as he quickly crouched beside her. At his touch on her face, she dragged her eyes back open. Swollen left eyelid tried twice before the right decided to make an effort and blinked wide.

“Oh, my God, you’re so damn cute. Don’t tell Sam I said that!”

Shock blew his own eyes saucered - right before his excited grin could appear, he cleared his throat.

“Rae, are you drunk? What happened?” he asked as he leaned to help her sit up. He hesitated, though, unsure where to grab her, so he yelled for his brother. His cute little pile of laundry sighed and smiled.

“Yep, yep, yep. Cute, cute, cute.”

43 minutes ago “Watch it, gigantor!”

“Hang on, I’ve gotta see the damage.” Rough fingers pressed carefully around her eye, nose, and cheekbone. “No fractures, just one grandaddy of a shiner.”

A pained sound growled from Rae. “That’s because all the fractures are in my arm!”

He huffed as he scooted around to her side, ignoring her grunts and whimpers as he examined what he could get to around her flinches and flails.

“OW! Watch it, that hurts!”

“Okay, okay. So, it’s fairly simple. The humeral head has been forcibly propelled out of the glenoid fossa.”

Rae glared up at him through the hot pulse of unhappy blood vessels in her face. “English, you fool! Don’t spew those big words at me!”

His lips twitched as he tried to hide a smile. She is adorable when she’s mad!

“You’ve got a dislocated shoulder there, Grace Kelly.”

Now “What’r you doin’ on the floor? I left you in your bed. Remember? You wanted my blanket?”

“What happened?”

“No blanket can hold me. I freedomed for my fought….what blanket?”

“What happened?!”

“That extra soft goldish brown one.”

Rae’s eyes were still closed as the brothers carefully hauled her to a sitting position. She sighed dreamily. “I love that blanket. It’s just like his hair. All fluffy and soft and kinda...you know, kinda….brown. I love his hair.” Her eye popped open and she stared up at blanket-owning brother. “Is that weird? That I love his blanket hair?”

The brothers stared at each other, one of them going red right up into his ears.

“What the hell happened?!?”

38 Minutes “Just amputate it and put me out of my misery!”

He rolled his eyes as he helped her move into place on the infirmary bed. “We’re not gonna amputate it. I’m telling you, I can fix this.”

The glare she shot him was all squinty suspicion. “I’m not sure I trust you, Winchester. You said that after I caught you eating my last Oaks Candy mini Melty Bars.”

“And didn’t I have Garth swing through Oshkosh after taking care of that wendigo outside Algoma? He was in cornfield heaven.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do what you’re going to do.”

Shaking his head with a grin, he coaxed her to lean forward slightly as he cupped the front of her shoulder with his left hand, his right warm between her spine and shoulder blade. “Okay. On three.” He felt her shudder as she tried to brace herself, exhaling in preparation of a deep breath. “One -”

SNAP.

Lungs empty, Rae couldn’t even squeal as she crumpled forward like a paper bag. Additional, abominable pain seared sweat into her armpits and tears into her eyes as she sucked in air, slamming her good fist into the mattress beneath her. Dropping to his knees, her tormenting saviour peered up at her worriedly. Oh crap - did I make it worse? What if I made it worse?

“You okay?”

“You - lying - no! What happened to ‘on three’?!”

He cringed as the words croaked from her tight throat, gingerly patting her knee and ready to duck if she swung at him. “Hey, I learned that move from the best. Look on the bright side. The worst is over. I’ll wrap it up real good for you, and I’ve got some fantastic pain killers!”

Carefully leaning on her good arm, Rae shot him the evilest glare from her one eye she could muster.

“You better wrap up both arms for your own protection, mister!”

My brother’s gonna kill me.

Now “I ought’a kill you!”

Dean rolled his eyes as he helped get Rae’s limp-noodle-legs into Sam’s arms. “She’s fine! I did a Boy Scout badge worthy job of wrapping her up and gave her some of that Demerol you think you hid. Rest, ice, compression, elevation - she’ll be good as new in a couple of days.” He glanced down to see his patient happily hanging her head upside down over Sam’s arm as she stared at the number on the door in front of her.

“Didja know that our...our numbers’s over 1,000 years olld? Sam told me that. Sweet, smart Sam. I love his sweet, smart brain.”

Fresh heat flooded more red up into Sam’s ears as he glared at Dean. “How much of that Demerol did you give her?”

Dean shrugged, hiding his smirk. “Two, same as I take it.” The older brother immediately took a step back when Sam’s eyes popped wide and the vein in his forehead throbbed visibly.

“You idiot! Those are 100 milligram tablets!”

“Yeah, so?”

“She’s almost half your size! Half of one tablet would have been more than plenty! I’m amazed she’s even breathing!”

“Oooooo…” Cringing, Dean took another step back as Sam tried to move Rae right side up. Her one good eye stared up Sam dazedly before she slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Rae! Stop talking! Stop saying words ‘bout Sam’s brain! And his hair. Oh, my lord, I love his hair. Shhh!”

Bitch-face-level 99 burned from Sam’s eyes over Rae’s hand, and Dean decided a tactical retreat was in order.

“I’m gonna go...somewhere...not here.”

Distantly, Rae gathered that Dean and Sam were having words, but she couldn’t marshal together enough thoughts to worry. All she knew was that she was warm, her shoulder and face didn’t hurt anymore, and she really, really liked Sam. Where was Sam, anyway?

A wonderful, floaty, rocking motion made her head spin, and something tickled her hand. Her eye slowly tracked up her arm to see her hand plastered across Sam’s mouth, and he was trying to say something. Seeing him so close filled her with pure happiness.

“Hi, Sam! Hiya! It’s Sam!”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at his little limp laundry girl as he carried her to her room. “Hi, Rae. Just hang on a second, and I’ll have you in bed.”

She plopped her head on his shoulder, sighing dramatically. “Oh, my God, he can have me in bed any time. Hoo, boy. I mean - arms. So much arms,” she drawled, poking his bicep.”

Sam almost choked on his own breath, heat arrowing through him. “What? No - I mean - not now, just - hang on,” he stammered out, striding into her room, eager to get her situated and flee before things got any more ridiculous. The gold-brown chenille blanket from Dean’s room lay in a wrestled pile on the floor that he stepped over before carefully depositing her on her bed. Trying to lift her to prop her on pillows was like trying to fold a sleeping bag - soft, sprawling, and sticking to him like static. When he finally situated her into place, he glanced up to find their faces so close, he could count the freckles on her nose. That little skip in his heart he felt so often when near her jumped to life, and the temptation to kiss those soft lips was almost irresistible.

Surrounded by warmth and strength, Rae felt blissfully safe. The scent of Sam’s cologne tickled her nose, causing a grin to tug briefly at her lips. Everything was dark, though. Why was everything dark?

“Did Sam turn off the lights?”

“Uh...no?”

“Then, why is it so dark?”

“Because your eyes are closed.”

Oh. That made sense. With a series of facial gymnastic maneuvers, Rae managed to stretch her eye open. Sam’s topaz gaze waited for her, shining in autumn-colored glory down on her. A swirl of giddiness heralded a bloom of warmth in her chest, and she couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to stretch right off her face.

The smile lighting up Rae’s warm pecan-pie-brown gaze sent Sam’s belly flip-flopping, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Before he could blink, her mouth suddenly dropped open as she gasped in something like horror, her hand slapping over his eyes.

“Ohmygaw, don’t look at his eyes! They’re a trap, Rae! They’re too pretty!”

Sam couldn’t stop the grunt when one of her fingers jabbed into his left eyeball, hurrying to peel her hand away before she blinded him. Blinking the pained tears away, he still couldn’t stop his smile as he rubbed the offended orb.

“You think I have pretty eyes?”

Rae’s head swam, but whether it was his dimples or whatever had happened before - memory suddenly escaped her - she couldn’t say for sure. To protect herself, she clapped her hand over her own eyes.

“The dimples of doom!” she whispered. “I’m done for.”

Fresh surprise sent Sam’s eyebrows skyward. “Dimples of doom?”

A strangled sound croaked from Rae as she sank back into the pillows. “I want to kiss them!” Just as quickly, she snatched her hand away and sent him a puppy dog look that rivalled his own. “Can I kiss them?”

Sam reeled back when he caught himself leaning towards her, steeling himself against her pleading gaze. Everything in him practically begged him to grab her, kiss her dimples, and not let her go for the foreseeable future. Hearing her drug-induced confessions set his heart pounding - he’d had feelings for her for so long. But they were just that - ramblings fueled by inadvertent opiate overdose. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - take advantage of something Rae didn’t mean.

“I think it’s time I get out of here so you can get some sleep.”

“You mean, I can’t kiss them?” She sounded downright hurt. Sam forced himself to his feet.

“Rae, you’re high as a kite on the meds Dean gave you. You won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

Not 100% sure what he said, Rae only knew he wasn’t beside her anymore, and he looked sad. A couple of his words untangled in her brain, and she frowned.

“You listen here, Wam Sinchester. I remember stuff just fine!”

“It’s okay, Rae, just get some rest. I’ll check on you later.”

Addled though she was, the dismissal came through loud and clear. Anger tried to shove aside the drugs as she fought to sit up, failed, and settled for giving him a serious stink eye.

Sam blinked when she fixed a weird, squinty look on him, then turned to head for the door, hoping to strengthen his resolve. He failed miserably - one glance over his shoulder saw the dim light from the desk lamp shining amber lights into her wild, messy curls, and he was snared once again.

“You - you - oh!” she groused. “You say you take one fake sugar in your coffee, but you take three reg’lar ol’ sugars when you think no one’s lookin’. When you watch a for’n movie the first time, you do it without th’ sub...the subt...the words on the bottom ‘cuz you like to listen to the language. The first time I saw you came back from joggin’, I stopped breathin’ for a second, ‘cuz - damn, boy. Ever’ time you touch my shoulder an’ give me that quick smile, I can hardly stop myself from huggin’ you. You like peanut butter an’ raspberry rhubarb jam sammiches. You don’t like trail mix with dried bananas. And you!” she swore out dramatically, pointing an accusing finger at him, “you keep stealin’ my ‘spensive shampoo!”

Suddenly exhausted, her eye starting to twinge, Rae flopped back onto the pillows and burst into tears.

Sam stood frozen - shocked like he hadn’t been in a long time. A man of keen observation, Sam knew a lot about Rae. She could eat breakfast food three meals a day. She scorned Cheetos but powerhoused through Cheese Nips. Fancy scented candles gave her headaches, but lavender essential oil went with her everywhere. The first time she smiled, his heart damn near stopped. She killed him when she wore that grey tunic-length ‘Namastay in Bed’ t-shirt; the navy lace bralette she always paired it with was just visible through the light fabric, and her boobs...whoa. She always kept a hair band around her wrist, even if she wore one in her hair. And, yes, he stole her shampoo because it kept the scent of her with him.

So, yeah - he knew a lot about Rae. All the reasons why he’d fallen for her. He’d never dared hope she knew him, too.

The fat tears dripping down her swollen, purpling cheek sent Sam’s heart straight to his belly. In one quick step, he sank to his knees at her bedside, snatching up her free hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, don’t cry!”

She grabbed for him; powerless to resist her, Sam tucked her face into his neck and breathed her in.

“I tol’ you I ‘membered stuff!”

“You did. You do.”

“An’ ‘s okay you steal the shampoo ‘cause...pretty hair.”

“Thank you for letting me steal it.”

“An’ it just hurts ‘cause I want to hug you all the time. You an’ your stupid pretty eyes.”

Smiling so wide his stupid, pretty eyes nearly crinkled shut, Sam softly stroked her hair.

“You can hug me anytime you want, Rae.”

“I can?”

“As long as I can hug you.”

Snuffling pathetically, Rae nodded against his skin. “Okay.” Completely spent, she sagged against him in a boneless sprawl. “Tired, Sam. Can’t...my eyes can’t.”

Sam gently eased her back down, stroking her unblemished cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay, Rae, you rest.”

“Stay?” she mumbled out before a slight snore buzzed from her. Sam sat for a moment, just gazing at her and basking in the warmth of shared affection. Then, he pulled off her shoes along with his own, and drew Dean’s prized blanket over both of them as he cuddled her to him carefully. Tomorrow would come soon enough to talk clearly about these confessions. For now, he was staying right where he was.

A long time later, when two gentle snores back-and-forthed in the room, Dean carefully cracked the door open, grinning smugly at the two curled up together. Closing the door soundlessly behind him, he didn’t flinch when Cas appeared in the hall.

“Did it work?”

“Like a charm. Just call me Cupid. Nope - strike that. He’s a dick. Call me...Dr. Love,” the hunter drawled out proudly, flipping a pill bottle up before catching it.

“So, I adjusted the dosage correctly to not kill Rainbow?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned for the library. “Yes, Cas. Just needed her under the influence enough to get those two lovesick nerds talking.”

#Under the Influence #Sam Winchester x ofc #Dean Winchester x ofc #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #shy vy writes

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winchesterprincessbride · 6 years ago

Text

The Contest-Part 36

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest. They are doing open casting calls all over the country. Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along. Much to your surprise, you land the role and your life changes forever when you fall in love with one of the show’s leads, Jared Padalecki

A/N: I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s. It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! : *Note: My vision for the show is different from what has actually happened, and some characters and plotlines may differ.

Part 1 My Masterlist

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Rory Montgomery (OC), PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Gemini’s POV

My head popped up from the table, startling Sam and Dean, who were quietly eating their breakfast so as not to wake me. “Pancakes?” I said groggily as I sat up quickly. “Why do I smell pancakes?”

“Hey sleepyhead,” Sam said with a smile. “You must be beat, Gem. You fell asleep right at the table!”

Dean pushed a foil-wrapped plate in my direction. “Saved you some.”

I shook my head to clear it. “No guys, listen! My BFF Kelly Kline paid me another visit in my dreams. She told me where Jack is!” I pushed away from the table and stood up. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but I waved a hand at him.

“And before you say anything, I HAVE to go. Jack will only come to me. Don’t ask me why, but Kelly said it had to be me. So I am going! Get Cas, get Mary, but I am going and you can’t stop me.” I was starting to get really worked up.

Sam held out a placating hand. “If Kelly says it has to be you, then it has to be you. I don’t like it but I won’t stop you. I just want you and the baby to be safe.”

I jumped out of my seat and grabbed a piece of scrap paper and I pet from the junk drawer. I quickly scrawled down an address and handed it to Sam, “This is where Kelly says Jack is.”

Readers POV

When I entered Jared’s trailer, he was face-timing the kids. The turned when I entered. “Perfect timing, babe. They were just asking for you.”

I looked over Jared’s shoulder at the screen. “Hey, Sheppy! How’s it goin’ bud?”

Shep proceeded to laugh into a long story about some cool bug he had found before Tom apparently had enough of waiting and pushed him out of the way. “Lemme talk!” he demanded.

“Hi, Tom-Tom! I promise I will talk to everyone. How’s school?”

Tom’s face filled the small screen. “I can add now!” he said proudly

I grinned at him. Damn Jared’s kids were adorable.”Good for you! Keep up the good work. Where’s Odette?”

“She’s nappin”. But Mamma wants to talk to you. Bye Daddy, bye, Y/N.” Without another word, Tom zoomed off, and the screen was blank. The Gen appeared, looking like she had everything under control, as usual.

I don’t know how the woman did it. Yeah, she had help, but she had two very high energy boys, a girl that was into everything and still managed to find time to run a blog. “Hey Y/N! How is your mom? We missed you at the wedding,” Gen said with a smile.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. She’s much better, thanks for asking.” I replied

Jared cleared his throat. “Uh, Gen, we have something to tell you, well two things actually. I asked Y/N to marry me, and she’s pregnant.”

I leaned over his shoulder, “just to clarify, he asked me to marry him before I told him I was pregnant.” I said with a smirk.

“Oh my god! That’s wonderful news! I am so happy for you two! I can’t wait to tell David! When’s the wedding going to be?” she asked curiously.

Jared and I looked at each other. “We haven’t really talked about that yet.”

Gemini’s POV

Sam looked up from the paper I had handed him.”Jack’s in Biloxi, Missippi?”

“That’s what Kelly said,” I told him as he grabbed his laptop and entered the address into a site to get a satellite view. He turned the computer towards us.

Dean peered down at the screen. “It looks like a farm in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m sure it will be crawling with demons,” Cas commented as he stared at the screen.

“Lucifer wouldn’t have it any other way. He knows we are going to take another crack at him, he’s just biding his time.” Sam said as he glanced at me with worry in his eyes.

“Gabriel was the only thing that kept us from getting our asses handed to us last time we tried to take on Lucifer! What’s gonna be different this time?” Dean demanded. “If anyone has an idea I’d like to hear it.”

“Rowena,” I whispered. “She hates Lucifer. He destroyed her body. He’s the reason she transferred her soul into me. Maybe we can strike a deal with her. Give her something she wants in exchange for her helping us.”

“I don’t trust her,” Dean snapped. “She always finds a way to screw us.”

“Do you have a better idea?” I said impatiently.

Dean looked over at Sam and they had one of those silent conversations that drove me nuts. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, would it kill you two to talk out loud lie normal people once in a while?”

Sam smiled sheepishly at me. “Sorry. Dean thinks we should call Crowley. He hates Lucifer with a passion. We can probably get him to help us. But I know how you feel about him.”

“Desperate times, Sam,” I said with a sigh. “He’s not my favorite person, but whatever we have to do to get to Jack and make it out alive, then I say we do it.”

“Fine then. You do your dream talking thing and see if Rowena will bite, and I’ll reach out to Crowley.” Dean decided.

“"What makes you think Crawley will listen to you?” I said with a smirk.

“Crowley and Dean were very close at one time. I think Dean will be able to get him to agree.,” Cas told me, and I looked at Dean with surprise.

“You and Crowley were close? Why on earth would you and the king of hell be BFFs?”

“Back when Dean was a demon, they were very close,” Cas said matter-of-factly.

“You were a damn demon? Seriously? Is there anything you two haven’t done?” I muttered with a shake of my head.

Dean glared at Cas. Thanks a lot, bigmouth!”

Cas looked completely confused as to why Dean was annoyed. “But you WERE a demon,” he repeated as if this explained everything.

I smiled at Cas. “Just ignore him. He’s just mad because he didn’t want me to know. If he can use his past with Crowley to get him to help us, then great!”

“So what kind of deal can you make with Rowena?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. But she hates Lucifer enough that maybe she’ll help us just to see him suffer.,” I said hopefully.

Reader’s POV

Now that I was pregnant, the long days of filming were starting to take a toll on me. When I was not needed for a scene, I could usually be found napping in Jared’s trailer. When I was late to shoot a scene because I fell asleep, the immature assholes I work with made sure to tease me about it.

“It’s about time, Sleeping Beauty. We have work to do.” Jensen said with a smirk.

“It can’t be easy carrying Gigantor junior in there. It must be sucking the life from you like a parasite,” Misha interjected.

“Guys…” Jared said warningly.

“For your information, children, you get to have all the fun, but we women are the ones who do the heavy lifting. So until you are ready to carry a baby, shut the fuck up!” you practically snarled.

Jensen and Misha held their hands up in mock surrender. “We were just messing with ya, Y/N,” Jensen said consolingly.

“Well knock it off, or I’ll rat you out to both your wives.”

Misha’s eyes widened, “you wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me!” you said with a grin.

Gemini’s POV

I struggled that night to fall asleep. I didn’t like sharing my head with Rowena. Every time she hijacked my body and I lost chunks of time, I resented her for it. But eventually, exhaustion won out and I drifted off to sleep.

Just like before I was back in the dark, cave-like space, and I could barely make out Rowena’s figure in the shadows. “Hello, Rowena,” I whispered, not sure who else was listening.

“So, here for my help, are you?” she said with a cold smile.

“How do you.....I began, but she cut me off.

“I am always in the background listening, dearie. So if you want to count on my help to fight Lucifer and fetch his wee son, it’s going to cost you.”

“Cost me what?” I demanded impatiently. “Name your terms!”

“Normally I have healing spells in place so I can’t be killed, but after the last time, I took precautions. That is why I transferred my soul into you. Lucifer destroyed my body so thoroughly there was no way I could come back from it this time.”

“Tell me something I don’t know!” I snapped in annoyance.

“What’s left of me is sitting in an evidence box in a forensic lab in Chicago. An unsolved murder no one cares about.” I could tell Rowena was furious just by her tone of voice.

“What can I do?”

I need you to get one of my bones, there is a spell in the black grimoire that I can use to regenerate my body. That is my price for helping you.”

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hellyeahomeland · 5 years ago

Photo

“Chalk One Up” | Directed by Seith Mann, Cinematography by David Klein

The episode opens with Carrie arriving from a long night out doing… God knows what with God knows who. We love the starkness of this close-up on the exterminated motorcycle light. According to Lesli Linka Glatter, this mode of transport is based on a real life story:

“The scene where she gets out of the embassy was based on the real agent who Carrie is based on. She was based in Iraq at the time and that’s how she got out: by dressing as a man and traveling on a motorcycle. So, we used that for this. Also, you can’t leave in Kabul without an armored vehicle.”

...as the camera slowly pans up to reveal it’s Carrie underneath that (gigantor) motorcycle helmet, the question becomes clear: where the fuck was she?

Sara loved these scenes between Samira and her friend. Homeland has depicted several cities in the Middle East over the years but has rarely given us glimpses into the world outside the walls of a hotel or CIA station, especially without our main characters. The market that Samira and her friend walk through is vibrant and filled with color, as are their outfits. It’s a stark contrast to the interiors of the CIA station. And Samira’s line that the Taliban didn’t go away but were no longer hiding proves remarkably predictive of the rest of the episode’s events.

The real highlight of the scene is the selfie, of course. We love the detail of the man on the far, far left being cut out. Samira’s friend is the master of the one-arm selfie!

This shot of the various players at the Kabul station looking outward at Carrie is striking. It’s almost a reverse fish bowl. Carrie remains on the outside but everyone’s looks are in her direction. Jenna standing at the front of the room further suggests she was never “stuck in the starting gate.” She’s in the same position of power in that room as the Chief of Station and the commanding military officer at right. From afar, the dynamics are almost similar to early season one, Carrie running an ops meeting with Saul by her side. All of which is to say… is Jenna the Carrie to Mike’s Saul?

Dog.

This was such a specific detail that we thought it required pointing out, but 27 is not a significant number on this show (at least that we can remember), so we’re not sure why they bothered to show this.

...unless it’s a reference to the general ominousness of the 27 Club and a hint that Carrie (who, to be fair, is far past the age of 27) is going to die.

This week the show confirmed that Tasneem is the Director of the ISI. Which means that (after President Elizabeth Keane) she’s the second most powerful woman ever depicted on this show. And boy does she dress the part!

Tasneem’s all-white ensemble is attention-grabbing and distinctive (the other women in this frame are dressed in dark clothes). It’s also visually similar--especially with her long, black hair peeking through the sheer fabric of her headscarf--to the dress worn by several other men at the reception.

Homeland has told lots of stories over the years--whether intentional or otherwise--about the challenges women face living in a patriarchal, misogynist society. Whether it’s Martha losing her career because her loser husband couldn’t stand having a wife who was more powerful and smarter than he…. Or Allison dying in the back of a car near the Russian border in an act of scorned lover revenge. Or Carrie, screaming and crying at the end of “The Vest”... but being right the whole time.

Or, as Abigail Nussbaum said more elegantly than we ever could:

“Carrie is, in many ways, a boogeyman; she is what professional women, and particularly ones in male-dominated professions, have been taught never to become - emotional, hysterical, crazy. Emotion is how women who want to be taken seriously are undermined and dismissed. Even if you’re perfectly sane, being emotional - and most especially, being angry - devalues you and your professional contribution. A woman can be called crazy simply for behaving like a normal human being rather than a robot (and of course, if she behaves robotically and unemotionally, she’s a cold bitch). But Carrie isn’t simply emotional (though she is that too, and worst of all, she allows her feelings for a man to cloud her judgment) - she actually is crazy and hysterical, in the proper clinical sense rather than the exaggerated one which attaches to any feminine display of emotion, and profoundly pathetic and unattractive in that state. And she’s completely right, the only person who figures out Brody and Abu Nazir’s plans and motivations, and the person who saves the day by being hysterical, infecting Brody’s daughter with enough of that hysteria that she calls her father and convinces him not to blow himself up.

It’s certainly possible to read this arc as purely tragic, Carrie’s self-destruction being the cost of saving the world (though this is a character arc that is applied to men as often as women, for example in Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon), but to my mind its effect is more complex. It makes a crazy, hysterical woman into a hero without in any way mitigating her craziness or hysteria, and thus defangs the argument that emotion in women is a weakness. It’s the rational, sane men around Carrie, who turn away from her unattractive mania with distaste and embarrassment, who are blind and incompetent, and it’s that same inability to look past surfaces that leads them to put their trust, wrongfully, in Brody - just as Carrie performs hysterical femininity, Brody performs stalwart masculinity. Both are misleading.”

All of which is to say, we’re really fucking pumped to see how Tasneem’s role expands for the rest of the season, and we think the array of women in Tasneem, Carrie, and Jenna and their varying degrees of power is going to be really interesting to see unfold.

Sara is obsessed with this shot. She’s obsessed with the set design of Samira’s apartment. She’s obsessed with this moody lighting. She’s basically just obsessed.

Last week we had a slow pan around Jalal to reveal Tasneem. This week we have a similar slow pan around Carrie to reveal Jenna. This definitely means that Sara’s theory that Jenna will “single white female” Carrie is right on track.

Also, Gail hereby declares Carrie’s delicate silver jewelry her “FULL circle earrings,” because everything is coming full circle this episode, including accessories.

That said, we can’t deny the power of this shot. First, we have to note what’s going on in the background (which is actually in focus). President Beau has just arrived off Air Force One and immediately stops for a photo op with the Afghan president. From the beginning, the show is clear this is an optics-based trip.

But we really love this image of Carrie and Jenna (out of focus, but in the foreground) side by side. Again, they mirror each other, but in opposite ways (“So they’re mirror opposites?” --Sara’s brain). Carrie’s light hair versus Jenna’s dark hair. Jenna’s light jacket versus Carrie’s dark one. It’s eerie.

On the podcast we talked at length about the scene between Beau and Carrie. It’s genuinely moving. The staging of it is unique as well. The camera shoots them both at the same height. They stand close together. Ironically, the power dynamic seems almost equal. He’s one of the few people who’s ever acknowledged the sacrifices she’s made in service of her country.

Their twin smiles here are all the more tragic following the sequence of events that closes the episode. They all sincerely want peace. So many characters smile real, genuine smiles this week. That’s not a normal Homeland occurrence!

And they all legitimately believe in what they’re doing. They believe they’re doing the right thing. Maybe they are. But partly out of necessity, and partly out of more selfish desires (Hayes later says it’s all about getting a second term), they get caught up in the theater of it all. They make poor decisions. They take the wrong risks.

Every so often in this series we have to abandon screenshots in favor of gifs in order to truly capture ~the moment~ and this is one of those times! The way Claire plays Carrie’s reaction here is so specific, so nuanced and strange and wonderful. These “lived in” moments are something we’ll really miss when the show is over.

IJLTP.

We’ve all been there, Carrie.

This is another interesting shot choice. We’re not sure what its purpose is, other than to add interest to a fairly run-of-the-mill scene. But still, the set design! *heart eyes*

Sara’s note for this shot was “Saul is so extra.” We talked about genuine and sincere smiles above and Saul’s here does qualify… sort of. This is halfway between genuine and self-aggrandizing. AKA “where Saul lives 100% of the time.” He looks like a director about to screen his short film at Sundance. The red curtains parting slowly behind him are Too Much.

Tasneem and G’ulom are the kids in the back of the classroom who are so fucking done with this shit but can’t leave because they’ll get detention. We will continue to stan.

It’s a classic Homeland device to show a significant moment from a variety of perspectives, especially if those perspectives involve screens. The multitude of angles on Beau’s speech here reminded us a lot of Keane’s resignation speech in the Oval Office in “Paean to the People.” Coincidentally, that was her last hurrah as president too.

(P.S. Another Saul over-the-shoulder shot!)

Two selfies in one episode!

We loved the payoff to Max’s subplot. For once this season the weird LA filter actually looks nice! These are beautiful shots and the reflection in Max’s glasses is especially striking.

The skull and crossbones on the barracks is an ominious detail. As is the rock labeled “Boredom Rock.” Death and boredom really have been the two extremes of Max’s stint at the combat outpost.

We’re still divided on the merits of the “Carrie has to save Samira” storyline, but the camerawork here, with Carrie’s armed hands appearing out of nowhere, was pretty cool.

This RPG shot was one of the cooler special effects the show has done in a while. The entire sequence of Chalk One looking for Chalk Two was tense and thrilling and extremely well-executed.

Bringing us back to the ops room, the “LOSS OF SIGNAL” projected now for both helicopters is pretty chilling.

This is now Sara’s favorite shot of the entire series and we’d be remiss if we didn’t mention that it’s another over-the-shoulder Saul shot. This time he observes one of the crowning achievements of his long career literally blowing up in his face.

Visually, this shot anchors the viewer back to the Carrie/Saul relationship, the central one of the show. The black blankness--and the failure it represents--engulfs the frame.

We love the choice to end the episode on Carrie alone. It refocuses the event back to her. The horror in her eyes, welling up with tears, is palpable. How does Carrie feel? Alex Gansa explained that the writers wanted to create a new 9/11 with this maybe-assassination of the president. And it’s a fitting bookend for the show in many ways. In Homeland’s pilot, Carrie says she “missed something that day,” misdirecting blame to herself for not preventing 9/11. Now, in the final season, the show seems poised to tell a story in which Carrie is blamed for the “new 9/11.”

Strap in, folks. It’s gonna be a rough ride.

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #chalk one up #seith mann #*#by: sara #by: gail

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 6 years ago

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Coffee Shop au

Why.... Because I can XD

I mean I could do a whole this guy was working at Hat Manor instead of Flug , Demencia isn't there either and other people are in their place to have this au, but our good doctor and Hit woman are both in this and of course our dastardly Hat man we all love lol, it would not work without the entire crew right...manages to forget 505 for this one pffft maybe he’s Flugs stuffed bear from childhood?

For now let's just focus on Amadeus Black Hat.

(yes named after Mozart and I personally like the name.)

Also focusing on how this all began with him wanting a regular but decent cup of coffee without concerning ourselves on the other details of who would be in place of our favourite characters in his home.

So let's begin.

Early morning, shall we say six, despite being up since five, curtains still closed, our good (not so good) demon was curled up in bed eye closed, grumbling, his pyjamas kept riding up and irritating him and one of his bed socks had come off in the night.

That was another thing that was bothering him, half assedly trying to find it only to discover the damn thing had somehow managed to get on the floor, he glared at said object, how dare it be so far away.

Light peeked around heavy black drapes making him groan again, pulling the covers up over his shoulder trying to settle back and snuggle in pillows that were supposed to be the softest money could buy but today his bed just seemed so ARGH!

"Fine! You win you stupid contraption!"

He snapped at the inanimate object, kicking off the covers in frustration.

(We all know this feeling I'm sure!)

Stretching, bones popping, his yawn much like a cats, small and then stretching to reveal rows of fangs with a curling tongue.

Another glance at his bed sock as he pulled the other off simply to throw it at the offending one while pouting

"Traitor."

So now let's move on to him stripping down to shower as the instrumental of careless whisper plays in our minds and Hat washes himself, soap bubbles and steam miraculously censoring out all the spicy bits, long sweeping shots of legs, hands cleaning his neck and suggestively over two smallish horns protruding just above his brow, looking like he's enjoying his shower way more than any actual person would be.

Waves hand hello, yes hello you there, you can stop drooling now he's out of the shower, in a bathrobe and towel on head despite being lack there of in the hair department.

Toe claws tapping on kitchen tiles, of course he could have someone make his coffee, but he was not ready in the slightest to socialise with the idiots who worked here.

Cupboard doors open, fingers curled around handles, standing there in silence looking over the contents, a clock ticking somewhere in his sterile kitchen.

That's it! He was going out, who in the nine circles could enjoy coffee here!

His bed was uncomfortable, his socks had committed mutiny and now even his kitchen was unwelcoming.

Clapping his hands his suit appearing on him the towels going who knows where, even he did not care!

There was that new coffee shop, it had recently opened, of course he was going to know everything that went on in his town, no one could slip anything past him.

Yes that would be the perfect place to go, being new probably meant the place was not yet popular...hopefully, so then it would not be over crowded, just please don't let it be one of those copy and paste places that held absolutely no charm.

While he was a monster that did not mean he could not appreciate a good atmosphere while enjoying certain beverages.

Heels clicking against marble flooring, cane tucked under his arm, perhaps walking would also lighten his mood, was his lobby always so big?

Hmm perhaps a change was in order.

Upon opening the doors to his home he looked up at the sky, there was a chance of snow or so the weather forecast had predicted, obviously it wouldn’t when he was out.

Black Hat squinted at the clouds, they wouldn't dare.

Of course controlling the weather was not something our miserable fellow here could have charge over and here now we introduce Demencia and Flug, also because I am writing this I've named the doctor /barista Acylius Flug...so... Blep on you.

Now Acylius was in the kitchen, working on making the first batch of muffins, they did not open until at least seven, if they were popular enough they would certainly change it to six to make sure everything was ready on time.

Their café was indeed an inviting place, with deep red walls, high back comfy chairs, circular tables made of dark oak, four books between book ends on each one so someone could read something if they so wished, footstools tucked under chairs and blankets folded on the seats.

Children were not allowed.

Charging ports were optional, though phones had to be on silent.

Wooden beams giving off the impression this place was much older than it was and what art lined the walls which were an assortment of landscapes and portraits Flug would never admit to being their artist.

Demencia was using this job to hopefully pay off outstanding college debts from some years back, there was a two bedroom apartment above the Café where they lived, she got to live here rent free and was still going to be paid.

Apparently her boss and friend was not exactly short handed and sometimes she questioned where the money came from...

Pffft of course she knew about the sedated man down stairs.

"Hey stop panicking gigantor, business is gonna be slow, we just gotta get word out there or listen to customer suggestions, they always like to feel important."

Oh yes did I mention he is also six ft seven and when not torturing keeps his hologuise device off, so you would never compare him to his shorter self with the paper bag and goggles or slight nasally voice...come on now a lot of us have our own design and thoughts on Flug under the bag don't we.

His hologuise has of course been worked so that no one can see his real tall self unless he has it switched off.

"You do not think I am over doing it with the Victorian decor?"

Flug asked awkwardly, while working the white chocolate and raspberry muffin batter.

Nothing was going to come in a premixed cardboard box in his kitchen.

"With that roaring fireplace keeping the place nice n toasty absolutely not, people are gonna love that."

She had a shoulder resting against the door frame and arms folded, watching as Acylius evenly spread the batter into each muffin case.

"Though if no one shows up I am going back to bed, you know you can always join me if you want, help keep it nice and hot."

"Demencia!"

Flug returned, clearly getting flustered a blush forming on his pale skin, placing the tray in the oven, the door clanging shut.

"Now is not the time and anyway would you not prefer someone who does not have a smile permanently carved into their face, I look like I should be quoting Batman Dark Knight lines."

"Awww why so serious!"

The lizard girl teased and only laughed more at his deadpan look only then to be hit in the face by a flying tea towel .

Demencia couldn't help but laugh even more as it was sarcastically followed by

"Oops my hand slipped."

They both paused though when the chiming of the little bell went off, it was their first customer of the day, their first one to arrive at this time...mainly because they actually weren't open yet, not at least for another hour.

Black Hat stood there in the door way, snow thick on his Hat and shoulders, his frown so set in as he shook the cold powder off it could have hit the bloody floor.

The weather had dared to defy him.

Blasted cold wet frozen rain urgh...well this place...it reminded him of a home he’d once known...its styling far too similar it felt like an old parlour , comfortably furnished, a form of nostalgic peace.

The old demon wanted nothing more than to shrug off his coat, put on his fuzzy slippers with bat wings...which of course he'd never in a million years would admit were his and sit by that roaring fire.

(Heh even Mr grumpy pants can be adorable sometimes ;3)

He could hear people around here somewhere, no doubt the kitchen, cane over his arm he walked up to the counter, noticing the empty displays besides a few things in factory sealed plastics.

Sniffing he let out a sigh, a dessert treat was baking, its sweet aroma filling the air, usually our cranky demon here did not care for such things but he would be lying if he said that scent of raspberry and white chocolate with jussst a hint of vanilla did not seem appealing, he could already imagine the tart taste of raspberries on his tongue, wondering how long until those would be ready.

Like kisses from a lover he'd lost so long ago...but that was his story to keep.

Tapping the bell on the desk Demencia came running out paused and went running back, Black Hat rolled his eye and nearly left what awful customer service...when the other one came through, wearing animal oven mitts, he couldn't help but let a small smile form at the corner of his mouth, they were amusing to see on such a tall man...

Time slowed as he turned to face him, like when you see in movies, hair blowing, lighting perfect looking ridiculously gorgeous as the one staring is entranced while the chorus of take my breath away plays out of no where.

He knew that face, pale skin, ebony hair, how did he have the same scars...this man was a duplicate of...

"Sir are you alright?"

Flug asked, shifting as Black Hat had been staring, damn it he knew he should have covered his face up.

Pulling up his white Doctors mask and sighing

"Apologies, I forgot myself, I usually cover them up, did you have an order to make?"

It took Black Hat a moment to come back to reality, clearing his throat and nodding

"Uhhh Black coffee, goats milk-"

"And a dash of Hazelnut!"

Acylius blurted out and froze a moment, crap what if Black Hat didn't like that and he'd just assumed he would and the demon would get mad.

Demencia raised a brow at her friends suggestion, did he just try and finish THEE BLACK HAT'S ORDER!

"Please forgive me sir, I have no idea where that came from."

It was clear while it seemed this man did not remember him, there were old memories lost within that mind, still lingering even in this new life...a part of him still remembered perhaps...he hoped.

"Well there is no need to apologise Acylius, though perhaps I should find out where you are getting your information from."

He teased, leaning in a little.

That made Flug nervous, knocking over the thankfully empty cup, setting it up right again he was about to ask how he knew his name...of course then realising he was wearing his name tag, must've seen it and after all this was Black Hat.

No doubt he knew about the sedated man in the basement.

What our dear six foot seven Barista was really worried about was the demons presence in his newly opened coffee shop.

If the King of darkness hated it no one else would come, then there was a matter of no one else would come unless it was to see Black Hat if he was here all the time.

No that was ridiculous Black Hat would not be here everyday.

So perhaps if this went well, word of mouth would spread that if this place was good enough for Black Hat it was good enough for them and bring in business....oh my god stop thinking and make his drink!

"Please find yourself a seat, I will bring it over, Demencia please turn off the oven, no doubt the muffins are ready now."

"I would like to order one of those to."

"Yes sir, one devil's brew and muffin coming right up!"

Black Hat lingered a moment longer.

Acylius, his Acylius could not have been reborn...no this had to be some peculiar...cruel act of nature.

Karma was finally catching up with him... Yes that was it.

Taking a chair in front of the fire, crimson with a high back, he pulled out the footstool tucked underneath, of course it was facing the counter, he could barely stop looking at him.

Awww our little demon's heart is going boom boom da boom...yes I know cannon wise Hat doesn't have one but that's what Au's are for, free the imagination, anything is possible!

Acylius could still feel his eyes on him, he shivered subtlety, honestly being watched like prey was somewhat thrilling.

All the while though he was concerned he was taking too long to make his coffee as he brewed it and refused to use that instant crap.

(That most of us drink XD)

Turning back , Demencia returned with the display plate now full of muffins, one on a saucer with napkins and small fork.

Placing it on a tray she went on to put the rest where they belonged and noticed the demon watching Flug and grinned

"You like what you see, he's single you know!"

She of course held back nothing with hands on hips adding

"I'm single to but I'm not really looking for anything but come on you've been staring at him like you want him to serve himself on your lap as if he were the most tasty treat on the planet! Long legs, keeps fit-"

"Demencia PLEASE STOP!"

Acylius snapped, blushing bright red, oh god he wanted hell to swallow him up whole, could he just fucking die now please.

" I am so sorry for my co workers behaviour I-"

Flug was so embarrassed that he was completely missing the fact that Black Hat was trying not to laugh.

In any other case he would have simply just left and found it all inane but it was endearing if not bittersweet to see features resembling a lost one look so flustered, he'd always found it cute when his Acylius blushed.

Legs out on his footstool, ankles crossed, he laced his fingers and looked as serious as this entire scenario would possibly allow.

The fire crackling as both co workers stood there in silence, Demencia still grinning, oh ho the legendary master of all evil was actually considering Acylius as a snack!

Of course if her ridiculously tall friend didn't want any of that, she would be more than happy to mount the beast to her wall...bed...any available surface.

Black Hat waved a hand and spoke evenly

"I will let it slide on one condition."

Acylius gripped the tray, where was this going.

"What is it sir?"

"Call me Jefecito."

"But I, you are not..."

He sighed and gave a momentary glare at Demencia, bringing over the coffee and cake.

"Coffee is served, Jefecito, is there anything else you would like?"

"Yes, when I am here, only you are to serve me."

Hat replied, holding his coffee, the bottom of the cup making a clinking sound on the saucer, drinking he felt a comforting familiar warmth spilling down his throat.

"Kinky."

Demencia chirped out.

In which Acylius hid his face behind the tray wishing for death and Hat near choked on his coffee.

#Coffee au #Paperhat #Villainous #villainous au #Black hat #Flug #Acylius

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hnrywinchester · 6 years ago

Text

Fare Thee Well- - Chapter 1

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel in nine years, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC (bear with me lol)

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, character deaths, follows canon.

Beta’d by: @theuniverseisasleep

Words: 4.1k

Masterlist

Another sunny day, another dingy motel, dirt caked so heavily onto the window that light could barely filter through. It smelled like a basement, musty and humid, and this hadn’t even been the worst one this month. Life was glamorous as always.

This was set to be a quick salt and burn, and she sat there thanking her rarely seen lucky stars as she watched a mouse run squeaking across the bathroom floor. Lovely. She was getting too old for this shit, but it was time for food and a solid three hours before some good old-fashioned grave raiding tonight. The drive had been long, the interviews with vics monotonous, and she was finally back in Kentucky, time to get- her thoughts were abruptly cut short by her phone vibrating in the pocket of her worn black leather jacket.

“Yeah?” She answered, annoyed, throwing her duffel down onto the motel bed and rolling her eyes at the cloud of dust that floated off the bedspread.

“Liv?” a deep, somber voice sounded and she stopped dead in her tracks, a pit forming her stomach. Sam Winchester. This was bad.

“Sam fucking Winchester. Hi,” she answered, trying to keep her voice cool. It had been almost a decade since she’d heard his voice.

“Hey, uh, look I know that this, this is, just, this...”

“What? Spit it out.” Panic started to overcome her, a stuttering Winchester never led to good news.

“We need you. We have, uh, we have Gabriel, and he’s, he’s in rough shape.”

“Gabriel...”

That pit that had formed in her stomach lurched, jumping all the way up into her throat, this was not happening.

“Yeah, turns out he’s been held prisoner in hell for, God knows how long and.. and he’s wrecked. We’re honestly not sure if he’s even still in there. But if anyone can pull him out, well, we thought it’d be you...”

“What do you mean... not sure he’s still in there? What’s wrong with him?”

“We uh, everything? Liv, it’s bad.”

Her heart was pounding. Held prisoner in hell... wrecked... not even still in there... all the horrible things she’d said, thought, they came running back into her head. Nine years of cursing his existence punched her right in the gut. She was lightheaded and dizzy, the world was spinning around her.

Nine years. It’d been nine years since she’d last seen him. After Lucifer had “killed” him, he’d come shortly after, telling her he loved her, that once everything settled down he’d be back but he needed to lay low. And she hadn’t seen him since.

The hotel room was pitch dark, wind howling through the cracked window pulling droplets of rain into the already damp room. She sat at the table, unable to distinguish the rain from tears on her face. It had been hours, days, honestly she wasn’t sure, all she knew was he was gone. The Winchesters didn’t dare face her. They knew. They knew both her wrath, and her love for the angel, and she’d given them a fair taste of what would happen if she saw them again.

Thunder cracked, but she didn’t flinch. Lightning seared across the black sky, but she didn’t blink. With every flash all she could see was his body splayed on the ground, his massive wings burning across the land.

“Liv?”

Hallucinations were setting in. Great. The icing on top of the shit cake.

“Sweetheart,” she heard him say, her memory was doing him great justice, it was perfect, “I’m uh, I’m not dead. You can stop being comatose over there.”

The world stopped. All she could hear, feel, even see, was her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins. It took a moment, but she finally turned her head to the source of the sound, half expecting to see Lucifer, but it was him, hands held out presenting himself with that cocky little smirk on his face. But his eyes bore his fear.

“How do I know it’s you?” She croaked, voice weak and cracking.

“Well, your birthday is September 4th, favorite food are those disgusting, weird, not chicken but you think they are no matter how many times I tell you they’re not, things from that gas station in Kentucky, and is that a mirror in your pocket? Cause I can definitely see myself in your pants.”

Her chest finally unconstricted, air rushed into her lungs like she was taking her first breath, and the wail that followed gave the storm a run for its money. She leapt from the chair, the force of her movement sending it crashing into the wall, and threw herself into his waiting arms. Sobs wracked her body as she buried her face into his neck, his scent filling her senses, arid and warm, arms gripping her tightly.

“Sssshh, it’s ok,” he cooed, planting his lips firmly on her head, burying his nose in her hair, “if I didn’t know better I’d swear you loved me or something.”

“Don’t get crazy now,” she laughed through her tears, the sound thick and heavy.

“I have to go,” he confessed, dropping his eyes sadly.

“What?”

“I need to hide out until this whole, apocalypse circus is done. Until Lucifer is gone.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No can do. Let’s just say I don’t have the, classiest of friends. Go help those two gigantors stuff my big bro back into time out, and I’ll be home. I promise.”

She’d stared at him, her grip tightening on his collar, a poor attempt at holding him there, but he broke her heart with a simple chaste kiss.

“I love you, you know?” were the last words she’d heard him speak before the echo of his wings ricocheted off the walls. The silence that followed was deafening.

He had never come home.

“I’m,” she began, petrified of what now lay ahead of her, “I’ll be there in 12.”

Ten hours later she pulled up to the address Sam had given her, confused at the abandoned industrial building before her, panic creeping in slowly. The grimy brick building towering from the rocky uneven ground looked more like where she’d be hunting something, not going for a family reunion. She saw a door surrounded by a circle of bricks down a flight of metal railed stone stairs and she pulled her gun out before cautiously approaching it and knocking slowly three times.

“Olivia, hello,” a deep, gravelly voice greeted as he swung the door open.

Castiel. She’d missed the awkward trench coat angel. He’d checked in on her periodically over the years, helping her here and there.

“Cas,” she sighed in relief, putting her gun back into the waistband of her jeans.

His eyes were filled with sorrow as they followed her as she entered the bunker, knowing how broken she still truly was. The sight behind the door was not what she was expecting, grand and bright, metal stairs leading to a room with old computer systems lining the walls. Any other day she would be in awe, but she wasn’t here for a tour.

“Hey!” Sam greeted, jogging into view as Cas led her down the staircase, a hand pressed gently between her shoulders.

“Hey... Dean here?”

“Uh, long story... he’s in another dimension. An alternate universe. Trying to rescue Lucifer’s son and our mom.”

She stared at him blankly, “Your dead mom?”

“Like I said, long story... how are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry about this, I know, that we didn’t exactly end things too well.”

“That’s, yeah.. sorry.”

“Oh no worries, I understand. So he’s, uh, Gabriel is this way.”

As Sam led her through the building, she tried to steal glances at all it had to offer. A library, lots of old useless electronics, although she thought maybe Sam had had a little fun tinkering with it all if he’d ever gotten a chance. They reached a hall lined with doors and Sam stopped at one labeled ‘32’, his hand freezing as it grabbed the knob.

“How bad is it?” She asked, her voice ridden with fear.

“It’s bad. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, it’s really bad. I’m, I’m sorry.”

She nodded, feeling tears pricking at her eyes, her face growing hot.

“He’s, he isn’t Gabriel anymore...” Sam finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

He opened the door slowly. At first appearances the room looked empty unoccupied, black Enochian symbols etched on every available inch the room. Confused, she looked back at Sam. He motioned toward the dresser in the corner, and she saw a small figure huddled into a ball beside it. It didn’t even look human.

“Oh my god,” when the realization hit her she ran over, the bloody matted hair, the filthy clothes, his head hung low, forehead against his bent knees. Her hands came to his forearms and he jumped, panicked, terrified, pushing himself deeper into the dark corner. His eyes were wide, petrified, sunken into his head, his face blood stained and marred, tiny holes, appearing like stitch wounds surrounded his mouth.

“Gabriel,” she quietly sobbed, “it’s me.”

His eyes didn’t change. They were completely dead. What once was filled with golden flashes of life and mischief, sat cold and dull, staring aimlessly into the floor.

“I’m, I’m not going to hurt you,” she whispered, “Gabriel.”

His tight, pained grimace softened slightly, and the tiniest hint of recognition fell onto his face before he buried his face back into the crook of his elbow. She sat down in front of him, lost on what to do. How could this happen to an Archangel?

“Liv,” she heard Sam whisper from the door, she looked to him and he beckoned her over.

“All we know, is that Asmodeus was extracting his grace, and using it on himself. We have a little bit of it here and we’re trying to give it to him, as a pick me up.”

“What’s an Asmodeus?”

“He’s the current king of hell, youngest son of hell.”

“So Azazel’s little brother... how poetic. And he was, extracting.. Gabriel’s grace? How?”

“Honestly we’re not sure. He came like this, except his mouth had been sewn shut. With a vial of his grace that Ketch stole.”

“So for nine years, he’s been in Hell, being virtually fed on by some pissant demon? Am I following along correctly?”

“Yeah, well we don’t know how long but, awhile it seems. He’d take what he could, let Gabriel recharge, then take it again, bled dry, basically. And this uh, this Asmodeus, when we met him he could shape shift, like Gabriel can, so, I guess it was all part of his rise to power.”

She nodded. Shapeshifting. That explained Gabriel’s fear when he saw her. Something told her he’d seen her, or at least her form, at some point in the last 9 years.

“What can I do Sam?” She whispered, exasperated, desperate.

“We hoped you’d know,” he replied, hope fading from his voice.

She took a deep breath and walked back over to Gabriel, sitting down in front of him at a safe distance.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered just loud enough to hear, “Gabriel, I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t help the tears that fell. For him, for the things she said about him, felt about him. She’d cursed him, hated him, and all this time she should have been looking for him. The guilt had settled in. She hadn’t believed in him or trusted him, all she had done was written him off as a liar and let him rot in the pit to be mutilated and tortured.

His eyes never lifted, just stared into the dark corner of the room, unmoving, not even blinking.

“You remember, that one time, when we flew out to that island, out by Belize. I made you sit through the airplane ride,” she started retelling, a small smile turning up the corner of her mouth, “and we were sitting in the ocean, at sunset, because we were cheesy, and...”

Yeah, he remembered. He remembered that day very well. That memory was one of the only things he still had.

He walked out of the tiny little beach house, drinks in hand, out towards the ocean. The sun slowly dipped closer and closer toward the vast, open blue and one tiny figure sat in the sand, the light illuminating her skin. She was practically glowing. Her hair fell in messy, salt tousled waves down her bare back and around her shoulders, and he swore that this one had been made by Dad’s hands himself, perfect and beautiful, strong and soft and free.

When he reached her, she didn’t budge. Her eyes were closed, her skin soaking in the last of the sun’s warmth. He didn’t think she even knew he was there. So he marveled a little more. Searing this image into his brain, because in 1000 years he wanted to recall it, to remember every single detail, down to the placement of each grain of sand scattered across her chest, every tiny freckle that danced along her nose and cheeks, her eyelashes and the way they brushed her brow. Every imperfection was important. He knelt down quietly, gently laying his lips to the top of her shoulder in a light kiss, tasting the ocean salt on her skin.

“I love you, you know,” He whispered into her hair before parting the falling veil with his nose, finding the side of her neck with his mouth.

“I know,” she responded, her eyes remaining closed but her smiling growing.

“Do you?”

She reached behind her, grabbing his hand and bringing his arm around her waist, locking her fingers with his against her stomach as she leaned her body back into his chest, her head resting back across his shoulder.

“Yes,” she answered, turning her head and gently kissing his jaw.

Her certainty, faith, and trust in him shocked him. She had no hesitation in answering him. The swelling in his chest was consuming him. There was no explanation for any of this, the dejected little brother, the runaway, dads little last ditch, got-nothing-left creation had finally found peace. In the arms of a human, this human, he’d finally found a home.

“I kinda wanna stay here forever,” she giggled, nose scrunching up before rolling herself forward and standing up, pulling him up with her. “Come on,” she smiled, mischief in her eyes.

He obeyed, letting her lead him to the waters edge, the waves lapping at their toes. She peered up at him, he looked so serious, troubled almost.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, keeping his hand in hers while she turned to face him, other hand coming up to rest on his cheek.

She studied his face, perfect, sharp and angled, his amber eyes looking at her with an adoration she swore was beyond a human’s capability.

“I kinda want to stay here forever too, except my forever, actually IS forever,” he confessed, leaning into her hand. If there was ever a time to be weak, this seemed like it.

He’d always kept a brave face on around her, not because she expected it, but because his burdens were his own to bear. The burden of one day being left behind, the burden of knowing she was going to die one day. And his life, his existence, whatever it was, would be over, but he’d still be here.

She leaned up and pressed a simple, sincere kiss on his lips, “I’ll love you even when I’m in, wherever I’m headed,” she assured, pushing that one swoop of hair away from his eyes, “Heaven isn’t too far.”

No, it wasn’t. It was right here.

“Gabe?” He heard her whisper again, her voice still the sweetest sound that would ever exist, pulling him from his oh so familiar dream world, eyes finally moving to look at her.

This was no ruse, no trick. She was right in front of him, saying his name, was the nightmare was finally over? Slowly his hand pulled away from his body, reaching for her, stretching to the one thing that could pull him free.

She smiled as she gently laced her fingers with his, noticing the absence of his warmth she’d remembered on cold, lonely nights. Gently she pulled him from the floor, to the bed. His body reforming into a small knot, eyes hollow but with the tiniest glimmer of light shining through.

“Hey,” Sam Winchester greeted softly as he came into the room, Castiel on his heels, “well at least he’s not in the corner anymore.”

“Hasn’t said a word,” she replied, combing her fingers over the blood matted curls behind his ears.

That little motion had always been his greatest weakness. She didn’t know the power it had over him. Sure, she probably had gathered he enjoyed it, but it was more than that. It was pure affection, something Gabriel had never quite been acquainted with… until her. He remembered the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body fit perfectly into his arms, and those magical little fingers running through his hair. It made him weak and strong at the same time.

Unable to understand the conversation of the three people surrounding him, the world was hazy and sounds were muffled, he concentrated on the gentle scratches against his scalp and the warmth radiating off of the woman sitting at his side.

“What are you doing?” She questioned, as Castiel approached, pushing the sleeves of his coat up his wrists and laying his hands on the archangels head, a fierce protectiveness rising in her chest.

“I must reiterate, it's not possible for an angel to heal an archangel. I'm just trying to jolt his mind into thinking straight. Even then, Liv, Sam... Gabriel... it's, it's possible that he's lost.”

She shook her head, no he’d come back. He had to. She needed him. She always had and she always would.

“Gabriel, please,” she begged, leaning her forehead against his temple, uncaring of the bloody, filthy mess he was.

Sam watched the scene unfold before him. He thought for a moment that privacy was best, but he needed to be there if Gabriel broke back through.

“Gabriel,” she cried, unable to keep her resolve, to keep her strength up.

Seeing him like this broke something deep inside of her. Bloody, battered, still and cold as stone he sat, and she clung to him, pushing every ounce of everything she had to bringing him back.

“I know, I know that it’s hard. I know that you’re scared. I’m not going to hurt you, Sam isn’t going to hurt you. But you’re scaring me. I’ve lived, all these years, thinking you were gone, but here you are, and I, I need you. I’ve always needed you, I always will. I know you think you’re worthless, and broken, and weak, but you’re not. You are everything. I’m living and breathing right now because you existed. I need you, Gabriel. I love you. Even after all these years, I love you still. Please don’t, don’t leave me like this. Let me help you. Just please, come back to me, please Gabe.”

Her tears were falling and sobs wracked her body. Sam wanted to go to her, but she’d wrapped herself tightly around the angel, and he finally saw a glimmer of the depth of what they had. He watched as she cried into his cheek, forehead pressed firmly to his temple still, her tears leaving streaks in the blood dried on his face. She cradled his head gently with a hand wrapped around to his other cheek, her other arm between them, gripping his lifeless hand.

They had loved each other, really loved. And they still did.

The scene before him jolted memories of the times he’d lost Dean, and Jess, how helpless and lost he’d been. He’d never seen her like this. Olivia had always been a pillar of strength. Her reputation in the hunters’ world rivaled that of Sam and his brother; she’d taken out entire nests of vampires, packs of werewolves, single handedly. She was cunning and ruthless, but every hero had their kryptonite.

“Liv, can I, speak with you outside,” Cas asked softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, kissing Gabriel’s cheek before standing, keeping her eyes locked on him until she’d turned the corner.

“Are you all right?” Castiel inquired, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine,” she answered, coldly.

“I know you’re not fine.”

“Then why are you bothering to even ask?”

Castiel hung his head and she felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “for everything. I, I told Sam not to call you..”

“NOT to call me?” She interjected, her voice raising in anger, “not to call me. Why the fuck would you think to not call me?!”

“This is, a lot-“

“He’s DYING Cas! That’s what this is!”

“I know.”

“So fuck you for even considering not calling me here.”

“Liv...”

“What?!”

“I’m trying. You aren’t the only one who loves him.”

Sam stood alone in the room, Gabriel still huddled into a ball on the bed. The angel had always been small, but somehow he’d made himself even smaller. The day had taken a major emotional toll on the younger Winchester. Dean leaving (with Ketch of all people) to apocalypse world, Gabriel, Liv, and no matter how many times he turned the situation over in his head, he couldn’t find a single solution to one problem. He was helpless. It was back to the drawing board.

“Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations. I've been there. You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I-I thought I got out. But then... then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. Jack, your nephew, needs you. Liv needs you. The world needs you. We need you. Gabriel, I need you. So, please, help us.”

Again, he got no response. This was hopeless. He needed a new plan, and that wasn’t going to come easy.

“Hey,” Liv greeted, standing beside the much taller hunter, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, “so, what’s the plan? I’m sure you needed him for something and that clearly isn’t panning out.”

He heard the accusatory tone to her voice, “uh, I don’t know. Wait for Dean to get back, see what he’s been able to do over in Apocalypse World.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m gonna need an update on all that.”

“You’re, you’re gonna help?”

“Well I’m not leaving him. And he’s with you. And I’m betting that you don’t let me take him, so… logical choice.”

“This is the safest place for him.”

“Yeah. Quite the bomb shelter you have here.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

She felt the corner of her lips twitch into a small smile. She’d always liked Sam. Dean, on the other hand, they were far too alike, fire fighting fire.

“Hungry? I’ll go and grab you some food. We have a kitchen,” he added with a smile and a bragging tone.

“A kitchen? Fuck, what’s that? You know how to use it?” She asked, her smile growing bigger, and for the first time in awhile, it felt genuine.

“Well enough, yeah. I make a mean egg white omelet.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Sam laughed, “Well, I’ll go get you a burger then.”

She gave him an approving nod as he turned towards the door, stopping and wrapping an arm lazily around her.

“We’re gonna figure this out. All of it. Gabriel too,” he promised, “we’ll get him back.”

“Thanks Sam,” she murmured, grabbing his forearm, her eyes staying locked on the figure in front of her.

Once Sam had left, she walked back over to the bed, sitting back beside the angel, shoulder gently leaning against his.

“Come on Gabe, you’re stronger than this. You’re more fucking stubborn than this, that’s for sure,” she reasoned to no one, “you promised...”

You promised you’d come back.

“I know.”

Every nerve in her body whirred to life, her heart jumped into overdrive at the sound of that voice. It was soft and hoarse. In that moment, she finally understood the phrase, ‘music to my ears’, because there was nothing in this world, or any other, that she would have wanted to hear more.

“Gabriel?” She turned slowly, whispering his name as her eyes locked with his, his gaze soft as he finally truly saw her.

“Hi sweetheart.”

Tears fell onto her cheeks as his grace surged through him, his eyes blazing blue.

#gabriel fanfiction #gabriel spn #gabriel #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #spnfic #spn fic #supernatural

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bazmichaels · 2 years ago

Text

High School - Part Two

Pretty soon, it was time for two-a-days. I was ready, or so I thought. The workouts were brutal, and it turns out the head coach was not the most insane one. Coach Woods was certifiable. He would literally start foaming at the mouth when he started yelling, and his body would quiver uncontrollably. Coach Lavelle could also snap like a twig at any second.

But I was getting used to how to deal with them. Then the worst thing imaginable happened to me. The coaches rolled out the new offensive scheme they had devised for us, and there was no longer a fullback position! My position – gone. Instead of a speedy tailback lined up behind a human battering ram (the fullback), we had two speedy halfbacks lined up side-by-side in the backfield. I practiced at halfback, but I didn’t have the flat-out speed needed to run the types of plays we ran out of that formation. Goodbye Ivy League school (spoiler alert: I could never have gone there, anyway, for so many reasons). The coaches also decided to run an option system, so my friend Buddy Phillips, a tall, strong-armed drop-back quarterback who was ready to take over the offense was also out of a job. In stepped sophomore QB Buddy Nauls (last name sound familiar?), a running QB. (Yes, all Ohio HS quarterbacks are named Buddy.) I switched my concentration to the defensive side of the ball and was a starting inside linebacker going into our first scrimmage. Our psychopath coach, who came from the powerhouse Catholic School league, decided to call up his buddies and see who wanted to drive up to Huber Heights and scrimmage us. As it would happen, the juggernaut that is Cincinnati Archbishop Moeller, defending State and National Champions decided they would come up and show us how the best of the best play. Under Coach Jerry Faust, the Fighting Crusaders (I hate that mascot name, by the way) won six state championships and five national championships between 1975-82. They were Ohio's winningest football team of the 1970s (103-7).

All right, then, let’s see how this went, shall we? First of all, the stands were filled with college scouts. That was a potential good thing. They were all there for the Moeller players, but if any of us had a great scrimmage, we could get noticed by a school that normally wouldn’t take a second look at us. The next part was discouraging, though: Their team got off the bus. These guys were massive. Not all of them, but they had enough gigantors to fill an offense and a defense. The way a scrimmage works is that each team runs a certain number of plays, no matter what happens, and then they switch the offense and defense, and the other team runs that same number of plays. The fact that they scored seven touchdowns, and we scored zero does not mean we lost 70-0 – that would be pathetic - it just means they beat us to a pulp. I started as the right inside linebacker. They had the strongest line any of us had ever faced. They also had the fastest running backs and receivers any of us had ever faced. When we played them with our straight up 3-4 defense, they shredded us. I distinctly remember their first pass play; I dropped back into my zone coverage, and then I heard like a sonic boom as the tight end appeared out of nowhere and cut across in front of me. Their 6’4” quarterback had looked me off to his right flat, and then even before he looked back at his supersonic tight end, the ball just appeared in the tight end’s hands. I swear the ball was never in the air – it was some sort of quantum entanglement situation. Anyway, he scored on that play. Here is a picture of that dude, 6’5” Tony Hunter, making a catch later for the University of Notre Dame in front of like a million fans in a home game in front of Touchdown Jesus.

After that, he was a first round NFL draft pick. He played four seasons in the NFL before he had a career-ending knee injury. The only time our defense seemed to have success against their offense was when I blitzed up the middle. Every time we called a blitz, I stood right up on the line in the gap between their center and left guard and looked the QB right in the eyes. When the ball was snapped, I’d charge through the gap and tackle the QB before he could hand off to the running back. The big boys on the line couldn't touch me. I caused a fumble once and the rest were tackles for losses. My mom was in the stands, and she heard some college scouts talking about my quickness. Later, I took a shot to the face by somebody huge on an inside running play. I saw myself on film later finishing out the play sequence, but I didn’t remember any of it. Probably 5 or 6 plays. When I came off the field, somebody noticed that my legs were jelly, and my eyes were glazed over. The trainer came over and diagnosed me with a concussion. The next day, I noticed that my facemask was cracked. That never happens. I stuck around the rest of the game on the bench, but never went back in, obviously. Well – except when the coaches decided to practice a punt play on each side. This was my chance to show off my leg in front of all the college scouts in the Midwest. I had been working all summer to strengthen my leg and improve my form, and I had been launching rockets off my left foot. I stumbled onto the field, barely able to stand, dropped back into punting position, actually caught the snap (whew!), and punted the ball with all my might. I nailed the punt, and it went over 50 yards – straight up in the air. I think it was about 10 yards forward. Well, poop. After the game, my mom took me to the hospital. I was diagnosed with a serious concussion, and I was told not to go to sleep that night, or else I might not wake back up. Oh yeah, my neck was also broken. Not a bad break, but I had some chips break off and they were floating around in there. I also had severe whiplash.

That scrimmage was a great idea, coach. I took some time off from playing a regular position but was able to punt and do some placekicking. After a while, I tried playing positions again, but I never really played the same way I used to. I played ok in some JV games, but I was just really sluggish the rest of the season. I was the starting punter that season and did well. My neck still hurts every now and then to this day. A bunch of players got hurt that scrimmage, to varying degrees. And then we scrimmaged another big Catholic school after that, and more people got hurt. We limped to a 5-5 record that season. We came out of the gates at 1-5, and then I guess some guys healed up from the scrimmages, and we won our final four games.

On to wrestling season. Nope. No more wrestling for me. I didn’t even want to try basketball at this point – my skills were diminished, and I just had the wrong build for it, and a 1" vertical leap. I found myself a bit lost, but I got a lot of reading in. By then, Boston had come out with their amazing first album and Kansas had come out with the spectacular Leftoverture album. I bought those albums on cassette tapes and listened to them as I read and did science experiments in my room.

I got a few other cassettes, including the band .38 Special. They were a Southern Rock band, and I wasn’t as interested in Southern Rock (Marshall Tucker, Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZ Top) as my sister was, but the singer for .38 Special had a voice I could emulate, so I liked singing along with their songs. And you must admit “Hold on Loosely” is a good song. Now, some of you may be asking “what’s a cassette tape”? The Compact Cassette or Musicassette (MC), also commonly called the tape cassette, cassette tape, audio cassette, or simply tape or cassette, is an analog magnetic tape-recording format for audio recording and playback. Invented by Lou Ottens and his team at the Dutch company Philips in 1963, Compact Cassettes come in two forms, either already containing content as a prerecorded cassette (Musicassette), or as a fully recordable "blank" cassette. Both forms have two sides and are reversible by the user. Although other tape cassette formats have also existed - for example the Microcassette - the generic term cassette tape is normally always used to refer to the Compact Cassette because of its ubiquity during its height of popularity. Compact Cassettes contain two miniature spools, between which the magnetically coated, polyester-type plastic film (magnetic tape) is passed and wound. These spools and their attendant parts are held inside a protective plastic shell which is 4 by 2.5 by 0.5 inches (10 cm × 6.3 cm × 1.3 cm) at its largest dimensions. The tape itself is commonly referred to as "eighth-inch" tape, supposedly 1⁄8 inch (0.125 in; 3.17 mm) wide, but it is slightly larger: 0.15 inches (3.81 mm).[13] Two stereo pairs of tracks (four total) or two monaural audio tracks are available on the tape; one stereo pair or one monophonic track is played or recorded when the tape is moving in one direction and the second (pair) when moving in the other direction. This reversal is achieved either by flipping the cassette, or by the reversal of tape movement ("auto-reverse") when the mechanism detects that the tape has come to an end.

I played my cassettes in a bad boy like this one here:

My mom got some vinyl albums that I liked. Boz Scaggs, Eagles, Chicago, James Taylor, Carole King, Pablo Cruise, etc.

With Spring sports season coming up, and my football career seemingly on the wane, Chip and I started talking about going out for the tennis team. Most of the guys on the tennis team have generally grown up going to their parents’ country club, taking lessons, and playing tournaments. Chip and I just went out and hit. We played enough sets that we learned the rules and a bit of strategy, but we figured we could overpower some of the less athletic guys. Chip was a big dude. He was about 6’3” and 220 pounds and played offensive tackle on the football team. He could hit the ball hard. I could also hit hard, not from my size, but from my powerful lower half and my ping pong-based strokes. I was faster around the court, so I usually beat him, but he could swat. We figured we had nothing to lose, so we found out how to sign up and went for it. We needed to start practicing as soon as second semester started, but it was cold, and snowy, and icy outside. We didn’t have access to any indoor courts, I don’t think there were any in Huber Heights, so we just did what we could in our gym. We did a lot of running and spent a lot of time volleying to ourselves against a wall. We set up a net in the gym and could practice serving. The serving drills and the volleying helped me a lot going into outdoor play. Groundstrokes were impossible to work on because the floor was so slick.

One day, we finally went outside to the courts, shoveled off the snow, and started hitting. It felt good to be outside again and, for me, hitting again. I hadn’t been on a court in a long time. I immediately noticed that we had some really good players. I didn’t know if all varsity high school players were that good, or if our team was really good. I had never watched a high school tennis match before. I watched the guys that looked like they knew what they were doing to see what I could pick up. I had also watched a lot of tennis on TV. PBS and ESPN carried a lot of normal tour tournaments, and the networks carried the grand slams. Now it was time for me to try to play myself. Once we had practiced for a while, we started playing matches against each other. I did well against the guys that didn’t look like professional tennis players, but our best guys crushed me. In High School tennis, at least for us, the top three players on the team played singles matches, in order of best to worst, in theory. Then you’d have your next four best players play doubles matches, also in order of best to worst. Anyone not in the top 7 players would play on the JV team in similar fashion. I made the varsity team in doubles.

Chip played JV doubles. It was a great learning experience for us that first year. I soon found out how good our team was as we won our first 11 matches. We wound up going 18-3 that year, still the best record ever at the school. Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good. The following summer, I played in a few local tournaments in both singles and doubles (with Chip). Fun.

#memoir #high school

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