#Bobby is just a dangerous bean

[smoll-jade]

A color-in of

This

Had fun mixing up the different styles I drew them in. It makes Beheaded look a little far away tho, probably best for the safety of everyone in frame.

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday 📝

Tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 & @thewolvesof1998

All the love for my last snippet from my Fantasy AU got the writing beans going and I got 2K written for it today ☺️.

A lot of you were so curious what happened to Bobby, so here is a snippet that explains things a bit. It’s set before the prev snippet I shared. I wrote this on the notes app of my phone and it’s a rough first draft so hopefully it reads well and makes sense. I really really wanted to share the whole 2K I wrote today because this girl loves validation, but I restrained myself so enjoy this long snippet instead xx

A pained groan from their right has Eddie shooting up quickly and moving towards-

“Bobby!” Buck is scrambling to his feet, feeling a bit like a newborn baby deer on wobbly legs as he closes the distance between them. He falls to his knees besides Eddie, who is helping Bobby sit up against a large rock. The arrow sticking out of Bobby’s side is surrounded by a sea of red that has spread across Bobby’s shirt. Eddie rips the fabric of the shirt open to reveal the entry wound, the smell of blood flooding Buck’s nose causing bile to rise in his throat that he quickly swallows back down.

“Shit.” Eddie hisses as he inspects the wound carefully.

Bobby winces in pain. “Eddie, you need to go.” His voice comes out strained, breaths sounding heavy with exertion and Buck is fucking terrified. He can’t lose Bobby. He can’t he can’t he can’t.

Eddie stills his hands, lifting his head to meet Bobby’s eyes. “Bobby- ”

“More are coming and you can’t fight them off alone.”

“I can fight.” Buck says with determination. Bobby made sure Buck was skilled in combat, and now Buck understands why. The soldiers hunting them aren’t going to stop if they best him. No, they’ll go for the killing blow. They’re battle hungry and fighting for a cause that they truly believe in, and that’s what makes them so dangerous, not the weapons or magic they’re wielding, though that certainly doesn’t help. Buck won’t deny that he’s scared, but he will not stand back and do nothing. “Bobby, I can fight. Let me protect you.” He pleads, blinking away the tears that have been building in his eyes. They trickle down his face, feeling warm and heavy with with grief.

Bobby smiles sadly at him, Eddie getting to his feet and stepping back to give them some space. “I know you can, Buck.” His hand lands on Buck’s neck, thumb a comforting weight on the hinge of his jaw. “But there’s fifteen more armed soldiers coming and the two of you can’t fight that many, not with so much at risk.” He looks pointedly at Buck now and Buck wants to scream and yell at whatever deity dealt him these cards. He closes his eyes against the fresh onslaught of tears. “You need to go. Eddie will protect you and keep you safe.”

Buck shakes his head vehemently. “No, no I’m not leaving you.” He won’t leave Bobby here to die alone, he’ll die with him if it comes down to it. Bobby saved Buck all those years ago, has been saving him every day of his life just by existing and loving him, now it’s Buck’s turn to return the favour. He opens his eyes and meets Bobby’s with a new sense of determination. He is not leaving him.

Bobby looks over Buck’s shoulder and gives a small nod of his head before strong arms are wrapping around Buck and pulling him away.

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Buck fights against Eddie’s arms, thrashing and kicking out, desperately trying to get back to Bobby. He is not leaving him. “Bobby! Don’t do this! Dad!”

“May Elrus guide your soul, Robert Nash.” Eddie says, Buck feeling the vibrations from his voice along his back before Eddie tightens his arms around Buck and then the ground beneath his feet is gone, air whipping around them as they shoot into the sky.

Buck yells, clutching onto Eddie’s arms, stomach swooping like he’s on the drop of a rollercoaster. A strong gust of wind blows and sends them soaring through the air, the shape of Bobby growing smaller and smaller until Buck can no longer see him through the haze of tears freely falling from his eyes.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @lover-of-mine @theotherbuckley @loserdiaz @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @ladydorian05 @spagheddiediaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @weewootruck @steadfastsaturnsrings @captain-hen @monsterrae1 @try-set-me-on-fire @the-likesofus @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz

[zmediaoutlet]

Do you ship... Soulless Sam/Dean? 😉

giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirl --

on the one hand, duh

on the other hand, per the usual caveats, I'm not interested in actual non-con soulless/dean because that's too easy. like yeah he's naughty but he's not a doof

but ohhh there are so many weird and wonderful and nasty ways you can play it outside of noncon! It can be relieved first-time-in-a-year hookups with Dean so grateful to have his brother back that he doesn't quite look at how his brother isn't right, followed by the shocked betrayal of the soulless reveal -- it can be first time ever, with Dean or Sam finally acting on what they'd put aside for all those previous years, and ooooh what can be relished once the reveal happens -- it can be first time after the soulless reveal, which, !!!, although you'd have to massage Dean into a truly miserable place to get him to go for that -- etc etc. So many treats!!!

one of the things that makes the treats so fun is that s6 Dean is a desperate starving man. That year with Lisa was Fine but it wasn't at all sufficient -- like still being technically able to breathe, but your O2 saturation levels are dangerously low -- so when Sam comes back it's like his lungs finally expand all the way again. And then when it starts to go wrong -- that period where he's calling Bobby and is like that's not my brother (and he's right, kind of) -- he can't leave all the way -- and when Sam's problem is revealed, oh man. Dean's a cute bean but oh is he fun to torture. :)

then from Sam's POV -- he's not evil obviously but he's a shark. He wants to hunt and he wants to fuck and he wants to win, as he seduces all those wives away from their husbands and grins through sacrificing civilians to get the monster. You can load in whatever wincesty backstory you want and then the soullessness clarifies it to cold calculation: if it's a first time his souled self wanted, then he'll get it; if it's a first time Dean wants, he'll assess Dean as hot and available and, sure, he'll fuck him as a convenient option; if it's established relationship, he'll be glad to have reacquired a favorite hole, but god, if Dean keeps bitching about the soul thing then maybe he'll just go back to the chicks-- etc. ahaha it's so good.

and THEN, when real!Sam gets put back together, the guILT -- !!!

[joslincox]

Songs Used in Ozzy & Drix (Season 1)

Home With Hector

Tik Tok - Ke$ha

I Want You to Want Me - KSM

Girl-Crazy - LMNT

Follow Me Now - Jason Gleed

Human Fly - The Cramps

God Is A DJ - P!NK

Dancing With Myself - Billy Idol

I Wonder - Diffuser

Should I Stay Or Should I Go - The Clash

Cupid's Chokehold - Gym Class Heroes

Juliet - LMNT

Ms. Jackson - Outkast

Ultimate - Lindsay Lohan

Don't Mess With My Man - Nivea

These Boots Are Made For Walkin' - Geri Haiwell

DJ Got Us Falling In Love - Usher

Dynamite - Taio Cruz

Hello - Mindless Behavior

A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton

Pieces of Me - Ashlee Simpson

Call Me Maybe - Carly Rae Jepsen

Don't Stop The Music - Rihanna

Permission to Party - KSM

We Belong Together - Mariah Carey

Moves Like Jagger - Maroon 5 ft. Christina Aguilera

Miracles Happen - Myra

One In A Million - Aaliyah

Reflex

Basketball - Bow Wow

Go Figure - Everlife

Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins

My Own Worst Enemy - Lit

Beat It - Michael Jackson

Basket Case - Green Day

So Bring It On - The Cheetah Girls

Eye Of The Tiger - Survivor

Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) - Kelly Clarkson

Irreplaceable - Beyoncé

You're The Best - Joe "Bean" Esposito

Come Clean - Hilary Duff

Strepfinger

Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers

Keep It Undercover - Zendaya

Missing U - Robyn

A Lousy Haircut

Strut - The Cheetah Girls

Solo Star - Solange

Beauty Queen - Lash

Hair - Lady Gaga

Oh, My Dog

Who Let The Dogs Out - Baha Men

Bounce - System Of A Down

Bow Wow (That's My Name) - Lil Bow Wow

Hound Dog - Elvis Presley

Puppy Love - Lil Bow Wow

Street Up

Jenny From The Block - Jennifer Lopez

Welcome to The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

Drop It Like It's Hot - Snoop Dogg

Get Low - Lil John & The East Side Boyz

Back In Black -AC/DC

Paint It, Black - The Rolling Stones

Bloody Mary - Lady Gaga

Goo Goo Muck - The Cramps

Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

Gas of Doom

About You Now - Miranda Cosgrove

All I Want is Everything - Victoria Justice

When There's Smoke

Cigarette Duet - Princess Chelsea

The Globfather

Summer Is Not Hot - Selena Gomez And The Scene

Pon De Replay - Rihanna

Don't Eat Stuff Off The Sidewalk - The Cramps

Boombastic - Shaggy

Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride - Mark Keali'i

So Sick - Ne-Yo

Beyond The Sea - Bobby Darin

If It's Lovin' What You Want - Rihanna

Cancer - My Chemical Romance

Starships - Nicki Minaj

California Gurls - Katy Perry

Ozzy Jr.

Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N Roses

Always Be My Baby - Mariah Carey

Welcome to My Life - Simple Plan

Growth

American Idiot - Green Day

Drama Queen (That Girl) - Lindsay Lohan

So Yesterday - Hilary Duff

The In Crowd - Mitchel Musso

Wannabe - Spice Girls

Flavor Of The Weak - American Hi-Fi

Genie In A Bottle - Christina Aguilera

Distracted - KSM

Take Me Away - Lash

Rip Her To Shreds - Taryn 24

I Can't Hardly Stand It - The Cramps

Number One - Ginger Fox

How Bad Can I Be - Ed Helms

Mean Gurl - Gina Rene

Rumors - Lindsay Lohan

I'm Just A Kid - Simple Plan

The Art Of Losing - American Hi-Fi

The Middle - Jimmy Eat World

Tangled Up in Me - Skye Sweetnam

Run This Town - Jay-Z, Kanye West and Rihanna

She's So Mean - Matchboy T

Me Vs. The World - Halo Friendlies

Get Out - Mitchel Musso

Royals - Lorde

Sugar Shock

Sugar Rush - AKB48

Sugar, We're Going Down - Fall Out Boy

I Want Candy - Cory Simpson

Candy - Mandy Moore

Goodies - Ciara

Sell Me Candy - Rihanna

Candy Shop - 50 Cent

Lolipop (Candyman) - Aqua

The Sweet Escape - Gwen Stefani

The Dream Factory

Sleep - My Chemical Romance

Thriller - Michael Jackson

Someone's Watching Me - Hilary Duff

Rockin' Bones - The Cramps

Sweet Dreams - Eurythmics

Remains of The Day

Scream

The Monster - Eminem and Rihanna

Problem (The Monster Remix) - Becky G and Will.i.am

Ghost of You And Me - BBMAK

Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

The Ghost of You - My Chemical Romance

Ghost of You - Selena Gomez And The Scene

What Dreams Are Made Of - Hilary Duff

Friends On The Other Side - Keith David

House of Wolves - My Chemical Romance

Calling All The Monsters - China Anne McClain

[lilacmoon83]

Operation Castle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 4: Memories of a Good Life

David peered into their kitchen, as he saw Snow busy making coffee and hot chocolate for their guests. He knew her well and could see the conflicting emotions on her face and her pensive stare. Bobby was in the living room, strangely enough, sitting with Killian. The pirate had become a good friend and part of the family the last three years. They had even named him Bobby's Godfather when he was born and despite their memories returning, they didn't want that to change.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hair. He felt a bit of the tension leave her body and felt her relax against him. She turned in his arms and looked up at him, thinking about their lives and how wonderful this life had been to them. They were together and led normal, comfortable lives, yet the passion and love had not dulled in the slightest. If anything, it was as true and soul consuming as ever. She slid her arms around his neck and their lips crashed together, as they shared a passionate and soul searing kiss, this time with more heat than before since they were void of an audience finally.

"Charming…" she uttered, as he pressed his forehead against hers once their lips had parted.

"Talk to me, my love…" he whispered.

"She called us Mom and Dad…for the first time," Snow said, as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"But now…it feels like we're back to square one and we're strangers again," she added.

"I know…she just needs a little time though. It seems her life with Henry was good. Ours was too," he reminded her.

"I know…I get the feeling that she would have rather never been awakened and I guess I feel guilty, because I don't blame her. I love Emma and Henry so much…but David, we were sooo happy," she cried.

"We've always been happy and in love…but never without danger or royal duties plaguing us," she added.

"I know…and you have no reason to feel guilty," he replied, as he hugged her gently.

"We'll never be free again…they're not going to let us go. I can feel it," she fretted.

"Me too…but that's why everyone is here. We're going to figure this out, my love," he promised. She wiped her tears and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, as they prepared trays of drinks for everyone.

~*~

Bobby giggled, as Killian played with him and he crawled around the room. Emma watched him with fascination, not believing this could be the same pirate that had stolen a bean with the intention of leaving them all behind to die. Obviously, he hadn't made it before the trigger went off and now, he seemed to be a common guest in her parent's home.

"How did they let you on the force with the fake hand?" Emma asked bluntly. He smirked.

"You have as little tact as your father," he retorted.

"But I don't know. It appears that no one noticed and it's not like I actually went to the Academy. The last three years were real, but the past written for us in these lives is a fabrication, it would seem," he added.

"Yeah…guess so. I have memories of…not giving Henry up and raising him on my own," Emma said.

"Which you didn't," Regina commented. Before they could argue, Snow and David came out of the kitchen with coffee and cocoa. Bobby took an interest in Killian's flask, as he spiked his coffee with rum and reached for his cup.

"Aye…I think juice is a bit more your speed, small one," he said, as Snow handed him his sippy cup and he copied him and took a drink, further fascinating Emma.

"Perhaps we should start by discussing the area where the troll appeared," Rumple suggested. Emma googled the location and David emerged from the basement with a cork board.

"What's that?" Belle asked.

"A board from the station. We can keep track of the locations this way," David said, as he placed a pin in their first location and labeled it.

"The question is…how do we get back there to go over the scene when it's been wiped clean by a clean up crew?" Emma asked.

"I'm sure they're cameras everywhere. This is New York, after all," David replied.

"That's all you've got? We put some pins on a board and hope to find something?" Regina asked.

"And what do you suggest? So far, we have only one crime scene. Two if we count where I killed the werewolf, but that was after we chased him all over the city for days," David replied sternly.

"Aye…and we only caught the case after the uniforms couldn't apprehend him," Killian added.

"Bet you they're not sending the bodies to the city morgue either," Emma surmised.

"No doubt…they're probably in a government morgue somewhere," David agreed.

"So we are nowhere," Regina said impatiently.

"We didn't say that, lass…" Killian argued.

"He's right…and I wonder if we could get a look at the place where Storybrooke used to be. Maybe there's something there," David said.

"Something they haven't already found?" Emma asked skeptically.

"It's a long shot…but if they didn't know what they were looking for, they might have missed something," Snow replied, as she looked at her stepmother.

"What?" Regina asked.

"You and Gold knew everything about that town. If anyone would know where to look, it would be you two," David replied.

"Yeah…you had keys to everywhere, even people's houses, which was creepy by the way," Emma mentioned.

"True…but I guarantee they are tracking our every move and I spent three years in a cell. I'm not going back into one," Rumple said. David sighed.

"Fair enough…" he said, as he spied his grandson typing away on his laptop.

"Henry…how good at hacking are you?" he asked. Henry smirked.

"Not very good…I don't have the knack for it," he replied.

"But I might know someone," he added.

"Good enough to hack into government records?" Killian questioned.

"Some of the kids at school are crazy skilled at this stuff…we're talking about the type of people the government will either put in jail or recruit," Henry said.

"And you let him hang out with miscreants like this?" Regina asked with scrutiny, as she looked at Emma.

"They're not miscreants…they're just kids. Really smart kids," Emma replied.

"So this has been a waste of time mostly and we're nowhere," Regina snapped.

"Relax…this is a process. We were never going to figure out everything in one night," David admonished and Regina huffed in annoyance. She hated this. Not only didn't she have a handle on magic yet, she was severely out of her element in this world. She had no power anymore and it was unnerving, to say the least. From a Queen and Mayor to a lowly bar owner was a steep fall for her, while her enemies were happy with a new baby and had her son.

"Once we have more locations, more creatures, and more crime scenes, we might be able to determine similarities in the surroundings," David said.

"And if we can't? If this is all just random?" Regina asked. He sighed.

"I don't know…but as long as there is a problem, they have a use for us. The minute we solve everything is when we have to worry and we'll need an action plan when that happens," David replied.

"Yes…because once we're done, the former residents of Storybrooke will end up in a detention center. At best," Gold said.

"They said they would let us go…" Belle replied.

"There's no reason to believe or trust them, love. I'm afraid we must assume the worst," Killian answered.

"But we're just people…just like any other humans," Snow insisted.

"Perhaps on a genetic level, but we are not exactly the same as humans in this land. Our hearts glow…theirs do not. I am certain they have been studying my DNA these last few years and possibly all of yours too," Gold said.

"For what purpose?" Emma wondered.

"To do what governments do. Find power and weaponize it," Gold answered, as an uneasiness settled in the air.

"I need a drink," Regina said.

"Not a bad idea…but we should disperse for the evening. We cannot let our gathering seem like anything other than social," Gold replied. They agreed and started to get their coats. Henry hugged his grandparents and they looked at him fondly.

"Can I stay over soon?" he asked. David smiled.

"We'd love that, buddy…we have a lot of catching up to do," he said, as their eyes met Emma.

"Yeah…we do," she agreed.

"How about dinner again tomorrow night? Here this time?" Snow suggested. Emma nodded with a smile.

"Sounds great," she said, as they hugged her between them. She stiffened a little, but then relaxed a bit, before leaving with her son. Snow sighed, as they watched them go.

"Give her time, Snow…we'll get back to where we were," he assured her.

"I hope so," she replied, as he closed the door and folded her into his arms.

"These last three years…despite missing Emma and Henry have been everything we've ever wanted," she said wistfully.

"And they still can be," he promised, as he cupped her beautiful face in his hands. Their lips met in a feverish kiss that would have soon had clothes scattered everywhere. But Bobby reminded his very amorous parents of his presence and they shared a sheepish smile.

"Let's get the little man down and then we can pick up where we left off," she said, giving him a sultry look.

"You sure the moment hasn't passed?" he teased, as she plucked their son out of his playpen.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll have no trouble rekindling the moment, Charming. I'm very confident in your abilities, especially in the bedroom," she said, as he put his arm around her waist and turned out the lights, as they headed upstairs.

~*~

The metal sliding doors opened to the morgue, as General Shaw entered and approached the autopsy table.

"I hope you have a preliminary report for me, Doctor," he said. The older, bespeckled and gray haired doctor gave him a skeptical look.

"General…I have barely begun and I have no idea what this creature is and believe me, I've been brought my share of weird things in my days as a government coroner," the doctor said.

"I understand that, Doctor…but we need answers. I need to know everything about this creature. I've been told it is a Bridge Troll. I want to know anatomy and every single substance down to the folic of its hair analyzed and identified," the General ordered.

"It will be done, but I need time. A couple days at least," he said.

"You have twelve hours," he said, as he exited the morgue and went to the end of the hall. This area was highly restricted and required an extremely high level clearance to enter. Shaw put his code in and was allowed behind the heavy metal doors.

"Report…" he said, as he looked at the body that had been recovered from the city morgue. It was being preserved in a glass tube that kept the body frozen. A person from there had been murdered, which meant that the NSA officially took possession of the body once the woman was flagged in the system.

"Her heart is missing," the female scientist said.

"That wound in the chest is not indicative of a heart being cut out," he said.

"Clearly and there was almost no blood loss," she answered. He paused and looked at the young, highly intelligent woman.

"How the hell is that possible?" he asked.

"I don't know sir…it's like the heart was just ripped out. But there's no trace of it or any blood matter. That's not even the weirdest part though," she replied, as she motioned him to the microscope and had him look into it.

"It looks like dust. What's so strange about that?" he asked.

"It's not just regular dust…it's diamond dust and I found it around the wound," she replied.

"I compared it to all diamond dust known in this world to see if I could determine what kind of diamonds it came from," she added, as she showed him the analysis on the screen of her computer.

"It doesn't match the dust of any kind of diamond in this world and it likes to glow," she said, as he saw the dust shimmer in the light.

"Like magic," he muttered.

"Collect every speck of this dust and keep it in a specimen jar. This is classified to the highest level. Not even your assistant should have access to it," he ordered.

"Yes Sir…I'll lock all the evidence down. Care to tell me what I might be looking at?" she asked.

"No," he replied, as he walked out, just as his phone rang.

"Shaw," he answered.

"General…I just got a call from the city morgue again. We have another body…from there," Agent Becker said. He stopped in his tracks. Two bodies from there in the space of twenty-four hours could be no coincidence.

"I hope you're there already then, Agent Becker," he said.

"Yes Sir…I have the body and I'm bringing it in," she answered.

"Good…I'll read you in on this situation when you get here. You are to speak to no one of this…not even Agent Casey," he ordered.

"Yes Sir," she replied.

~*~

Images played on the computer screen played out from the recording from that day and the viewer watched with rapt attention. He watched these people fight this creature with bows and arrows, swords, and laser blasts. It looked like it should be something out of a movie. But he watched it happen with his own eyes right below his apartment window. He didn't know what the creature was, but it sure as hell wasn't human and these people seemed to be like something out of a comic book. One of them looked like he was definitely a government cop, while the others were obviously skilled fighters of some kind, but didn't seem to mesh with the usual government stooges.

"Okay man, cool video, but that's totally CGI," one of his online friends said, as six avatars popped up in his usual group chat of gamers.

"I'm telling you…this was out my window," he insisted.

"Dude…if you want attention for your editing skills, just say so. You don't need some video and if you want some tips, your characters don't even have cool costumes," another said.

"This isn't superhero stuff…this was real. I'm telling you. I put this video up on three different social media sites already and it was taken down within minutes," he insisted.

"That does scream of government conspiracy stuff," another said, making the others scoff.

"Whatever…are we gaming or not tonight?" another asked. The young man sighed.

"I'm out tonight…" he said, as he exited the chat and pulled the video up again. He really wished his friend Henry was online tonight…he was sure that he would believe him about this.

~*~

Casey growled, as he monitored the online chatter that evening in Castle. He hated computer work and had requested a tech be brought in to deal with this type of stuff. So far, NSA analysts had nuked the video of today's battle over a dozen times and people were not letting it go.

"How's it going?" Alivia asked, as she buzzed herself into Castle.

"Not good…I need a nerd. I hate the Internet," Casey growled. She smirked.

"Relax…social media has a very short memory. It will be forgotten soon," she assured him.

"Maybe…until the next battle and we make a spectacle and some of their theories aren't as far off as you'd think. Do you know that people remember feeling that explosion three years ago?" he asked. She smirked.

"Is this your first day on the Internet?" she teased and he grunted in response.

"I don't think this is going away like they want it to," Casey said.

"We better hope it does…or we could have a big problem," Alivia replied.

~*~

"You summoned?" Tamara asked, as she and Greg entered their General's war room.

"Are we hunting tonight?" Greg asked eagerly. To him, the more freakish magical blood spilled, the better. The General smirked and pulled up what looked like a map of New York City.

"Actually…with the online discourse and new Intel we have gathered, we have a bit of a new strategy," the rogue General said, as he made a change to the map that made it light up in bright colors.

"What is that?" Tamara asked.

"An infrared map of New York City and this map, was three years ago…before the magical radiation," their boss said, as he showed them that map and they noticed that the blotches of red had mostly disappeared.

"What are we looking at?" Tamara asked.

"Considerable seismic activity. Small, tiny fissures that are continuing to grow ever since that little explosion," the General said.

"Do you…think the NSA knows?" Greg asked.

"Of course they know…and they must think that, for now, their little taskforce is the key to stopping what could result in a cataclysmic event. But when they realize that they can't stop this, because it grows worse with each magical apparition, they will have to do something about all of them. Especially if the public calls for it," he replied.

"But they're keeping their identities and pretty much everything else under wraps," Tamara mentioned.

"That's why we're going to make sure the word gets out. You two have new day jobs as reporters at a very prominent news organization," the General said.

"Are you serious?" Greg asked.

"Why?" Tamara asked.

"To stoke fear and expose the plagues that magic brings to the world. The heads of these networks all answer to the government, though they deny it and this one answers to me. You'll start as beat reporters on the scene and as the fear grows, you'll soon be in front of millions every night as the truth about them comes out. It will force the government's hand and they'll have to detain the people of Storybrooke," he answered.

"This is your way back into power, isn't it? If this plan comes to fruition, you can step in with your knowledge of magic and other worlds," she said.

"You're catching on," he said.

"So we don't get to drop bodies anymore?" Greg asked, disappointed at that.

"Oh no…that part of the plan is still on and when our friends from the Enchanted Forest realize they're being hunted from all sides, they'll become desperate and further prove why they must be detained and studied like lab rats to solve the plights they have brought upon our world," he said.

"Do you think these fissures could become worse?" Tamara asked.

"Oh I know they will…and that's when we enact our revenge," the rogue General said.

"For now, you both need to keep in contact with me when you are out in the field," he said, as he presented phones to them.

"Every call you make is tracked, by the way, so be mindful of what you use it for," he added.

"There's only one contact in it," Tamara said.

"Aza?" Greg questioned.

"I told you…my real name is of no consequence. Aza is an old code name I went by in a mission years ago," he replied simply and offered no further information.

"For now, return to your new accommodations," he said. They nodded and left the war room for the new residence they had been given within the base…

[sibsteria]

Shock Value (Bam/fem!Reader/Johnny)

Warnings: drug use, heavy drinking, smutty, angst, fluff

Part One

Masterlist

It was 10pm now.

There was an instant stench of old booze as soon as they entered the complex, screaming and shouting, music changing volumes with each floor they passed through.

Nothing new, then.

Y/n had decided to hang back, neck down a few shots, of god knows what. It was dangerous just drinking something handed to you at a Steve-O party but, it’s not like she cared.

One taste she did recognise, the green liquid reflecting off the flashing lights, Absinthe.

She stayed on an unknown floor for a song or two, letting what she had taken hit her.

She was in for a big one.

Lugging her way up to the highest floor, which was of obvious knowledge that that’s where her friends would be, that’s where Johnny ran off to.

“Yoooo!” The slugged voice of Chris Pontius screeched over the music. Literally no-one payed attention to any loud noises, though.

“There she is!” A shirtless Steve-O was now dragging her by the arm over to where the rest of them sat.

She made eye contact with her curly haired pal, his eyes bulging out of his head when he travels down.

A couple of wolf-whistles later, she was settled into the bean bag chair that she had been thrown down into.

“I thought Johnny would be up here?” Her eyes squint around, no sign of him.

“Yeah, he’s around, probably up on the roof already.” Bam smiles at her, a rare sweet moment pulled from him.

She nods at that, choosing to partake in more drinking, instead.

She could see some of the carpet was already soaked in someone’s vomit. She raised an eyebrow, her phone only marked 10:30pm.

She was summoned over the one of the couches strewn about, a two fingered motion. She trips on something, slamming into the plush, an arm reaches around her shoulders as she sat.

“We’re gonna dare each other to do some stupid shit later, you in?” Bam mumbles out, smoke blowing from his lips.

“Always.” She takes the roll from his tattooed hand, letting the thin paper between her fingers.

Her lips close around the roach end, her nerve ends tingling as she pulls in a breath. Her lungs are blazing as she’s dragging it for so long, the end burning up. It burns her fingers slightly as it was almost at the end of its run anyway. She holds it for a few seconds before her chin is tilted to the left, an open mouthed Bam is urging her to pass it along.

She leans up closer, feeling his soft breath against her closed mouth, she lets the smoke out. It blows gently, he sucks it in tight. His head lulls back as he blows it towards the ceiling.

She giggles at him, everything is slowly starting to catch up with her, mostly the absinthe. Flakes of ash are falling against her arm which was overlapping with the one holding the bud.

It burns through her mesh, she frowns, this was a nice fucking top.

He goes to look at her, feeling her hand clamp around his, she’s pulling him up of the couch.

“Help me find some better booze, this is taking way too long.” She whines, he has a sick grin on his face.

“Follow me, sweetheart.” His tight-teethed accent is whispered into the shell of her ear.

He takes her to a locked closet, she’s about to say something before she yelps, he tugs two bobby pins out of her hair.

She stands there, leaning back against the cool wall as he works his magic.

A lock clicks and she knows he’s done it, yanking open the door he comes out with a couple of bottles, not wanting to completely rob the guy.

“You’re a gem.” She takes one of the bottles from him.

“Aren’t I.”

They walk back to their spot, not bothering to wait before they’re already swallowing mouthfuls from the high brand vodka. She smiles as she feels the harsh burn of the alcohol down her throat.

“Hey, shot off?” Chris is there now, setting up shot glasses.

“Do you have to ask?’” Y/n winks as she plops herself down, letting her bottles free pour into the plastic moulds.

“Last one to finish ‘em goes topless.” Bam’s snickering blunder sounds from behind the two sat on the floor.

“Oh, come on. He’s gonna be topless in an hour anyway.” She motions over to Pontius, holding a hand up to his mouth, covering his chuckle.

“Hey, you won’t be the first or the last girl with their top off tonight. I have full belief you’ll beat him, though.” His doe eyes make her weak, staring into her very soul, very drunk soul.

“Fuck it.” A couple of cheers from onlookers fuel her determination. Her visions a little off, she would’ve had a better chance if she wasn’t already on a spiral.

“Okay, y’ready?” Bam moves to join them, kneeling on the floor. Ten shot glasses lined up on either side.

“Mhm.”

“C’mon.”

The people hanging around them moved to join in the countdown.

She looked left, to see Johnny coming in from the patio doors, watching her with his eagle eyes.

“Two, one-” The chants are cut off by both of the competitors launching towards the shots.

He’s already ahead by one, fuck.

She reaches the eighth hurdle, thinking she has a chance until Chris’ celebration throws her off, he finished already.

She kneels, very fucked over, shit.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” Bam’s boozed up giggle makes her laugh too, even if this is at her expense.

“Jesus, fine.”

A couple more cheers pop off around them.

She looks over to Johnny, a glaring eye as he’s staring at her.

His eyes very clearly warning, don’t.

This is just what she needs to shove it in his face, even if it takes shoving herself into other peoples.

Her fingers grip the bottom of her mesh too, she yanks herself out of it, letting it fall to her feet.

She goes to unclip her bra, a hand stops her.

“May I?”

[disasterfandoms]

The Scariest Day || An Evan “Buck” Buckley Imagine

Anonymous requested: “hi! can you make an evan buckley x reader where the reader, buck’s girlfriend, is pregnant and got into an accident (you can decide the type of it) and she got hurt. the 118 got called on the scene and they find out she is there and you can decide how evan is going to react. thanks!”

A/N: fuck this makes me sad okay? You angsty anons, you. This is fem!reader. I’m sorry it took so long to get this out! 

TW: trauma to the reader, pregnant!reader, hospitalization, IV, needles, injuries, coma, intubation.

Taglist: @himbohondo @incorrectswatquotes @911-lonestar334

The day you found out you were pregnant was the second scariest day of Evan’s life. He knew he eventually wanted to start a family, but he didn’t know it would come as soon as it did. So when you told him, it had taken his breath away.

Then there was the 8 weeks ultrasound. That’s when he heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, the first time it had hit him that this was real, you were pregnant with his kid, and the world was going to change.

God, he wished he cherished those moments more now that he knew what was in store for your family.

He was holding your hand, sitting by your hospital bed. Tubes seemed to be coming out of you left and right, he wasn’t even sure what all of them was for at this point. The hand that wasn’t holding yours landed softly on your swollen belly, waiting to see if he could feel the baby kicking, the heartbeat from the monitor sounding out with the other machines in the room. He couldn’t believe this was happening, trying to remember how it ever got like this.

Engine 118, Ambulance 118, MVC on the corner of Ladley and Thomas.

All firefighters and paramedics at station 118 hurried to their respective vehicles, and left the safety of the firehouse. Buck had just been talking about the baby, the last sonogram showed the little bean’s tiny finger and toes and he couldn’t stop smiling thinking of meeting them in just a few short months.

He tried to focus on the accident at hand, MVCs are never pretty, and that intersection is notorious for them. He got out of the truck once it arrived, and nearly doubled over in shock from seeing your car, smashed between three vehicles.

He tried to run towards you, but he was held back by Eddie and Bobby. He doesn’t remember what they said to him, only that they were keeping him from seeing you dead in that car, or so he thought.

You were alive, but barely. Hen and Chim quickly got to work on you, but they had to admit that it didn’t look good. They had loaded you up into the ambulance before he had the chance of seeing you, he was too focused on trying to breathe. He was panicking, though. His girlfriend, his baby were in danger.

He got to the hospital as soon as he could, but you had been rushed into surgery. The doctor had said that the baby was fine, miraculously, but you had suffered a lot of injuries, and they didn’t know when you would wake up. In the meantime he would be here, talking to you, to the baby; hoping that you’ll be alive and awake to see your beautiful baby boy being born.

[shirtlesssammy]

7x18: Party On, Garth

Then:

Party on, Garth, indeed

Now:

A group of teens enjoy a camp-out and scary story hour. One dude tells the story of Jenny Greentree, and how she froze to death right under the tree by their campsite. A noise startles them, but it’s revealed to be another friend (wearing Sam Winchester’s striped hoodie?!). Trevor is toasted, but unlike the others, hears or senses some unknown threat, and takes off running. 

His brother and the other campers take off after him, eventually finding him gutted on the side of the road. 

Officer Garth Fitzgerald IV is on the case. He interviews a couple of the campers and they tell him about Jenny Greentree. So, he heads to the cemetery and “Garths” her. 

Trevor’s brother, Ray, gets very drunk alone and heads into the forest with a gun (a winning combo.) He sees a figure in the distance, but before he can reach her, he’s trussed up in a tree and gutted. Way to keep the family tradition alive (er, dead?). Garth hears about it over the radio, and is very upset. 

Meanwhile, DEAN HAS CAS BACK (kinda --he’s a little catatonic after taking on Sam’s crazy), and gets a non-update from Meg. He also gets a call from Garth, not that he remembers who that is. He owes Garth though so they head to help with the case. Instead of Garth, they meet Corporal James Brown.

Discussing the case with Garth, Dean comes to the conclusion that they’re dealing with an invisible ghost werewolf.

Sam learns the father of the dead brothers owns a brewery in town (and OH the irony of Dean Winchester saying microbrews are for douchebags.) Sam and Garth interview him, asking if his sons had enemies. Dean interviews Ray and Trevor’s sister, Maria. She tells him about another business partner, Dale, who died. Sam and Garth then interview Randy, the third business partner. He tells them the death was a suicide, and they’re selling their beer to a major distributor.

Meanwhile, the grieving drunk mom mixes herself a little AM joy. She plops her drink and her daughter’s OJ on the table together. Guess which one the daughter goes for? I mean, not her fault.

She’s instantly drunk, and sees a shadowy figure in the home. She looks for it. Her dad’s like, WTF?

She sees the creepy woman standing right next to her mom, but can only point and scream before her mom is gutted in the kitchen. 

Dean’s had enough of learning about microbrews (and drinking from his own flask that mysteriously sets off Garth’s EMF reader), and pops open some bottles to try. 

Dean learns that he likes the beer, we learn that Garth can get drunk off of one beer, and Sam learns that Dale left the company before he died. They’ve got a possible vengeful spirit on their hands. News of the most recent family tragedy comes across the police scanner. 

Garth and Dean head to the house, and Garth talks to the young daughter, Tess. Or should we say, Mr. Fizzles talks with Tess.

The sock gets Tess to tell them it was a monster with claws --and she drank a grown-up drink.

Sam interviews the widow of the business partner. She reveals that they both despise the other family for their past business dealings, but that her husband had sent them a peace offering. The bottle of saki he gave them arrived in a box “with writing all over it” (likely warded) and he wouldn’t let his wife even touch it. Sam’s spidey sense tingles. 

Dean and Garth piece together the other pertinent facts of the case: you’ve gotta be drunk to see the monster. Dean immediately pulls out his flask and starts drinking. Garth inquires about the flask, learns it’s Bobby’s, and speculates that it could possibly be haunted. Dean SQUASHES the feelings down. He’s here to work!

They all head to the brewery to hunt their ghost and find the potentially cursed bottle of saki - it’s been opened. They find a surveillance camera, but see nothing on the footage from when the elaborate packaging was opened. Dean thinks they need to drink to see the ghost on the security footage. “Can you even get drunk anymore?” Sam inquires, and we feel sad for Dean Winchester. 

They re-watch the footage, only to see the ghost appear this time. “He let that thing out of the box, and it must have just followed him to the place with all the thingies,” Sam summarizes intelligently. Randy arrives at the brewery, calls them hucksters, and starts to call the cops, but Garth tasers him. 

Later, in a restaurant’s back alley, Sam and Dean get a chef to read the box that held the saki. “What you took will be taken from you,” the box warns. The cook gets spooked, because the box declares that the bottle inside contains a shojo, an alcohol spirit. 

Back at the motel, they research shojos. (Randy, the brewery owner, has been kidnapped and stashed in the hot tub.)

There is a way to kill shojos...by using a samurai sword with a shinto blessing. Dean announces that he’s going to search local pawn shops for samurai swords. Lol, show, whatever. Garth pulls out his EMF and holds it near Bobby’s flask. Sam reports that he doesn’t think they’re being haunted by Bobby because he pulled out a talking board when the beer disappeared in a prior episode. Since Bobby’s spirit didn’t chat, Sam dismissed that theory. Their conversation gets interrupted by Randy waking up in Garth’s hot tub. 

Garth interrogates him. He wants to know who his kid is...because he’s in danger. It turns out that Randy had a secret kid - who’s currently working the graveyard shift at the brewery. Garth heads out, pockets loaded with the contents of the motel’s mini bar. 

At the brewery, the would-be victim cleans windows while blissfully unaware of the dangers. 

Dean gets the chef from earlier to read the shinto blessing on the sword he found. 

The blessing done, the chef heads back to work on what has got to be his weirdest night ever on the job. Dean gets an update from Garth on the ghost’s next victim, and learns that he’s at the brewery. 

At the brewery, Garth spots the ghost lurking next to Randy’s son, and hauls him outta there. Garth tries to explain that he’s in danger, but fails. However, the ghost turns up and makes his argument for him. It turns out that getting thrown through a glass window by an invisible force is an effective argument about the existence of unexplainable, superstrong forces. The guy tries to make a run for it, but he’s chased by the terrifying invisible ghost. Sam bursts in and tries to defend against the shojo, but he gets knocked out almost immediately. SAMMY, your head bby!

Dean bursts in with the sword. He is NOT drunk enough, so at first he swings wildly and the sword goes flying. Things turn around quickly for Dean, though, because the sword slides right on back to his hand! Sam wakes up and directs him in the fight, and soon the shojo is speared by the sword. She disappears in an angry flash of light. Dean looks around afterward. He’s alone - or IS HE? 

Garth wakes up in a pile of rubble. “What’d I miss?” OH GARTH. 

Dean asks Bobby to send him some kind of sign that he’s still around, while Sam lurks secretly in the background - silent witness to his brother’s CONSTANT WELL OF PAIN. There’s no sign from Bobby. 

At the motel, Garth bids them farewell. Dean gets his HUG.

For Too Precious For This World Science:

Garth drives away in a swirl of heart emojis, leaving Sam and Dean to talk FEELINGS. Sam tells Dean that he saw him trying to talk to Bobby in the brewery. Dean feeds Sam an eight layer bean dip of denial coated hope. He’s NOT SAD, he’s FINE - and there’s a whole string of incidents which makes it appear like Bobby’s been helping them along. Sam thinks that Dean’s just grieving - and his grief makes Bobby appear to still be around. Bobby is DEAD. D E A D.  

As they leave the room, the camera pans over to...Bobby! 

Before they drive away, Dean realizes that he left the flask behind in the motel room. He bursts through the door. “There you are,” he says softly, looking towards Bobby, who starts to smile. But Dean walks right past Bobby and grabs the flask, completely unaware of his presence.

Garth Quotesgerald IV:

You’ve been Garthed

I usually don’t even drink beer. It messes with my depth perception. Especially when I skinny dip

Mr. Fizzles is gonna go where the sun don’t shine

Come with me if you want to live!

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[vgilantee]

The Manager || Platonic! Sunset Curve x Reader

Requested by anon

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the guys swear because nobody can tell me that a bunch of 17 year olds in a rock band in the 90’s didn’t swear. I know i said fluff but i had an angst idea and it was too good not to add (i’m sorry). and while i don’t bother with adjusting to the american spelling most of the time, I did for ‘mom’ and ‘flavor’ and i hated it every time i typed it. final note: if i were to do more parts it would become a series rewrite, so if that’s something that interests you, let me know!

Warnings: character death, unhappy home life (no details)

While being the manager for Sunset Curve often felt closer to being a parent sometimes, it’s not a job you would trade for the world. Well, less a job because you weren’t really getting paid, but it was a good gig. You got to see some awesome venues and other small musicians, you quite often got free food from venues, and of course, got to hang out with your favourite boys. They gave you a place in the world, somewhere where you felt at home. They were family. Plus, Luke had graciously allowed you to crash in the studio with him when things got bad at home. 

You swing the door open, duffle bag over your shoulder, and march into the studio. It’s late, again, but your parents had started going off while you were trying to study and your father had mentioned your name, so you grabbed the emergency bag and climbed out the window. Luke looks up from his page and watches as you drop the bag on the ground and flop face down on the sofa. 

“Again?” You hum and nod into the pillow before flipping onto your back. 

“Dad said my name and mentioned something about grades and the band and I left before they could drag me into it further.” You glance over to see he has closed his journal and is resting his forearms on the acoustic in his lap. 

“Smart move.” You laugh and shift again to lay on your side. “The guys are in the house getting food by the way.” As if on queue, Reggie walks in with a stack of pizza boxes, Bobby has his arms full of bags of various snacks, and Alex is carrying an open cooler full of bottles of soda. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Alex raises the fingers on one hand in a wave before putting the cooler on the ground in front of the sofa. 

“Parents again?” Bobby gives you a sympathetic look before dropping the bags next to the pizza boxes Reggie had put on the coffee table. 

“Yep!” You pop the ‘p’ sound with false enthusiasm.

“You may as well just move in at this point.” Luke says it like a joke, but it’s been a joke for so long that you all know he says it seriously.

“You know what?” You sit up quickly and give a short nod. “My parents both have work tomorrow, you lot are gonna help me grab what I need.” It was that simple. The boys all make varying statements of agreement before sitting on the miscellaneous chairs around the coffee table. 

--

Luke had suggested you all dress in black for the heisting of your belongings, and as Alex was the only voice of reason, you all ended up head-to-toe in black. 

“Shh.” Luke whips around and presses a finger to his lips when you swing the door shut behind the group.

“There is literally nobody home Luke. And also this is my house. We don’t need to be quiet.” You gesture around the entrance with your hands as you speak, and Luke turns around and pulls the black beanie he insisted you wear, down over your eyes. You swat him away and he shushes Reggie as he laughs at you.

“It’s a heist! You gotta be quiet.” You roll your eyes after putting the beaning back in place on your head, before walking towards the staircase. “Everyone remember the plan?” Turning around you fold your arms and roll your eyes again. 

“School stuff.” Bobby salutes Luke, who nods. 

“Blankets and pillows!” Reggie copies Bobby’s salute, and is also nodded at. Alex rolls his eyes, and with far less enthusiasm holds his hand in a salute.

“Stuffing and zipping up bags.” Luke nods once more then turns to you with an expectant look. 

“Toiletries and underwear.” He taps his foot and clears his throat dramatically, staring at you, waiting. “Oh, right.” You salute him as well.

“And I’m on clothes!” You hear the noise of his hand hitting his forehead as he salutes with a bit too much force. “And if we hear the ‘rents, we move to Y/N’s room as quietly as possible, where we will finish packing what we have and bail out the window. Let’s move out!” You aren’t sure if he expected you all to go separate ways, but you move as a group up the stairs and into your room so that everyone can collect bags. Bobby takes your school bag, Reggie a duffle bag, and Luke and Alex reef a suitcase out from the top of your wardrobe. You swing a drawstring bag over your shoulder as you watch Luke nearly drop the suitcase on Alex, who promptly swears at him. 

With a final salute, you all part ways. You hear Bobby thundering down the stairs as you walk over to the bathroom, rolling our eyes at him. Grabbing your toiletries, including spare deodorants and toothpastes, before moving back into your bedroom where your drawers have been pulled open and clothes are being tossed onto the bed by Luke. You can only watch in horror and amazement as your clothes are thrown out of the drawers, and Alex folds them at an incredible speed. You want to ask him how he is folding them so quickly, but you don’t want to break his concentration. Instead you move to the unopened drawer and collect all your underwear, shoving it into the bag in your hands on top of the items already in the bag. You grab your hairbrush, adding it to the bag, before pulling the strings on the bag and closing it. 

“Need a hand, Alex?” He looks up after placing a folded shirt neatly in the suitcase. He opens his mouth to respond but instead snorts as you are hit in the head with a pair of jeans.

“Shit, sorry!” You pull the jeans from over your shoulder and glare at Luke, who has his hands covering his mouth.

“Screw you.” You flip him off, then fold the jeans and place them in the suitcase. 

The three of you managed to empty all your drawers and were in the process of sorting out what heavier jackets to take from your closet when you hear a door close, followed by thundering feet. The door is swung open and Bobby leans against the doorframe. 

“Mother.” Is all he manages to get out before Reggie tries to push past him and they both tumble into your room, making a thump as they land. 

“Shhh!” You and Luke push your index fingers to your lips, shushing the guys at the same time, but it’s too late.

“Y/N?” You all freeze as your mom calls out for you. You turn to the guys, left index finger still pushed to your mouth, as you point to the window with quick and sharp motions. They all nod and collect the bags and suitcases (a second was grabbed at some point in their packing) and move to the window. You don’t want your mom to know you are home to avoid whatever argument will undoubtedly occur, hence the attempt at silence, but when Reggie drops the suitcase he’s carrying with a echoing thud, you realise that won’t be possible.

“Shit. I’ll meet you at the car. Go!” You whisper harshly at the guys as he raises his hand to apologise and you leave your room, shutting the door behind you to hopefully muffle any more noises they make and buy them some more time. “Yeah mom?” Your mom waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded, as you make your way down. “What’s up?” You try to mask your anxiety about the whole situation by leaning against the railing.

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. You disappeared last night, and while I know you were at the studio with the band, you could have at least called to let me know that you were okay. Because really I didn’t know for sure because you didn’t call! You could have even called me this morning to say you were coming home. I had no way of knowing if you were safe, or, or, or if something had happened. I didn’t know!” 

“Mom-” You try to say something to calm her down but she interrupts, clearly not finished with her lecture.

“And you’re letting your grades slip! Running around with those stupid boys in that stupid band. You say you’re their manager, but it’s not a job and it’s definitely not a career! You need to pay more attention to class instead of going to clubs and venues with them. Which isn’t safe! Running around Hollywood with those four idiots in the middle of the night, sometimes not even coming home. There are all kinds of dangerous people out there and with no adult supervision anything could happen!” 

“Mom!”

“No. Your father isn’t right about a lot of things but he’s definitely right about not letting you see them again. Being friends with them is dangerous, not because they are, but because none of you have any common sense or self preservation!” 

“Mom, enough.” You rarely stood up to her, and you had never scolded her before, but calling the only four people that truly felt like family ‘idiots’ was the last straw. “I know it isn’t a job, but they are my best friends, and I enjoy going to those venues! I know it could be dangerous but the five of us are always together. My grades haven’t slipped, except maybe a couple of classes by one or two percent. But it’s not going to ruin me. And-”  The door slams shut and you look up quickly from your mother to see your father in the door. 

“Y/N.” Your father speaks very even and monotone, and his moves are all calculated. But his hands are clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Hi dad.” It was overly formal, and your brain screams at you to run, run from this conversation. But you can’t. You need to make sure the guys are as far away as possible, hopefully even at the car. You don’t think your father would track them down to stop you, but you don’t want to tell your parents you are leaving, and really you weren’t actually sure he wouldn’t track them down and drag you home. “How was work?” Poking the bear was very stupid.

“You disappeared last night, didn’t bother to leave a note or anything and scared the shit out of your mother!” You flinch slightly as he raises his voice. “You won’t be seeing that ridiculous band ever again, I can promise you that.” You glance at the clock and quickly decide that the guys have had enough time to get to Bobby’s car parked in the next street over. So you nod along in faux understanding. “You’re grounded, and you will spend the rest of the night until dinner studying.” You scoff and try to act pissed off, storming back up the stairs. To add to the act, you slam the door shut behind you, before grabbing a hoodie and climbing out the window.

You sneak around the house, watching your parents carefully as they move to the living room. They seem to be arguing again, almost certainly about you. You hop the fence into the neighbours yard then book it down the street to the waiting car. The engine is going and the second Reggie sees you, the windows are rolled down and they are yelling at you to hurry up, Bobby leaning over to open the passenger-side door. You laugh as you dive into the passenger seat. The door is barely shut when Bobby revs the engine and you drive away, a rock song from a mixtape you had made Bobby for his birthday playing loudly through the speaker and the five of you singing along and laughing. 

--

“Boys I have excellent news!” Wrong notes are played and a drumstick is dropped as you fling open the door with a piece of paper in your hand. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Bobby places a hand to his heart as Alex leans down to pick back up his drumstick.

“What’s the news?” Luke places his guitar on a stand and slides over to you. 

“Sit sit!” You gesture your boys towards the sofa on the opposite wall. “I won’t just tell you, there’s no fun in that!” They groan but comply, squashing together on the sofa, Alex with his legs over Luke’s, Reggie sitting cross-legged with his feet under him, and Bobby putting his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Well?” Luke leans forward over Alex’s feet and rests his elbows on his knees. 

“As you know I have been going around to potential venues to get you guys a show that isn’t in a bar that perpetually smells like puke, while you are playing your puke-scented shows and writing new hits.”

“Yeah.” They all reply at the same time and your smile grows.

“And I am also the best manager in the world, especially because of the fact that I am your manager.”

“Yeah yeah. Just tell us.”

“Bobby, quiet. I am building suspense.” Reggie swats his arm as if to say ‘yeah Bobby’. “Anyway. You also know that you are all incredibly talented and you will become the biggest band every.” The guys are all leaning forward and staring at you, waiting for you to finally tell them what news you’ve bought. “Alex, drumroll.” He immediately complies with an enthusiastic drumroll on Luke’s back. “You’re playing the Orpheum!” You throw your hands up as the guys all jump up and celebrate. “Are you serious?” Bobby grabs the piece of paper with the show contract as Reggie picks himself up off the floor after tripping over his feet trying to stand. 

“How did you do that?” Luke is jumping on the sofa and Alex is shaking you by the shoulders. 

“I’m just that good.” You manage so say through the laughing and shaking. 

--

“Size beautiful.” You roll your eyes as Alex groans and Reggie hands the poor bartender the shirt and demo. 

“Thanks.” She laughs as she holds up the Sunset Curve shirt before tossing it over her shoulder.

“I am so sorry about him.” You say genuinely to her, stood between Reggie and Luke.

“No worries. I’ll make sure not to wipe the table down with this one.” She offers them all a polite smile that you can tell is a forced customer service smile.

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands.” Alex gestures with his hands and you hear Bobby sigh.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hotdogs?” Oh? You realise that Bobby very likely wants to flirt with Bartender Rose and is trying to get rid of you all, finding his bandmates embarrassing sometimes. Luke pushes him back and nudges you with his shoulder as he leans over the bar, giving it a quick drum with his hands.

“Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.” He bounces then walks away, and Reggie shoves his shoulder.

“See you before the show.” You elbow him as you follow after Luke and Reg, and Alex bounces to catch up to you.

--

You eye the hotdog as it is handed over to you. You trust the guys but you don’t trust this hotdog ‘vender’ who is the sauce bottle sitting in his engine. You watch as Alex tells him that he spilt pickle juice into the car as you add sauces and toppings to your own. The vender says that it will help and laughs as Alex sputters, looking at you mumbling about how that doesn’t sound right. 

--

“That’s a new flavor.” You nod, continuing to chew as Alex says what you are thinking through a mouth full of hotdog.

“Relax,” Reggie looks over at him, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The logic is sound enough so you all take another bite. 

-- 

You stomach hurt, god it hurt. It was like being punched in the gut over and over again, and your stomach was turning, and with every breath in your sides hurt. You could hear Reggie and Alex groaning over your own noises, but you couldn’t hear Luke anymore. You felt the tears rolling down the sides of your face but you couldn’t move your hands away from your stomach. You barely heard the paramedics arrive over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, and while you could hear them talking you couldn’t decipher words. 

You let out a sob as a paramedic leans over you. You barely register being lifted onto an ambulance bed, but you turn your head and watch as Alex is lifted into one. As they wheel you out you see a black bag being zipped up. 

You feel light headed as they lift you into the ambulance and you hear Reggie gulp in a breath, before the paramedics swarm over to him. Alex is wheeled in next to you and you see his hand reach out to you. You forcefully peel your hand away from your stomach and hold his hand. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the paramedic sigh, defeated. You let out a groan, then a sob, and squeeze Alex’s hand as you struggle to breathe. He lets out a pained noise and squeezes your hand back.

Then it’s all gone, and your body is rising. You turn to Alex and see your body, and Reggie’s body, with a version of him floating above his body. You stare at him wide-eyed but he looks past you at Alex. You both watch as the paramedics give up on you and move over to Alex as the heart rate monitor gives a solid high beep. And then he’s rising and looking at you and Reggie. The three of you rise above the ambulance and you hear Alex whisper Luke’s name, looking above just you. You catch sight of him for a second before he disappears. The second he does you feel the pulling that was simply causing you to slowly float up, gave a harsh tug and you were suddenly in a black room. 

Alex cried when he arrived, and you felt yourself panic. You were dead. You just died. You and three of your best friends had just died. Reggie was pacing and Luke had just sat on the ground, head in hands. Your own hands were shaking and you couldn’t look at one spot or person for longer than a second. 

The pulling feeling returns after a while and you are falling, the four of you screaming before landing on a carpet, a girl around your age screaming back at you.

---

Taglist: @parkeret​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @amazing-socks​ (if you want to be added to a tag list, send in an ask!)

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Marauders and Kate’s (Lack of) Leadership:

One more salt post, partially inspired by this issue, but something I’ve been thinking about the series for awhile.  Not bashing on Kate here, just feeling that Duggan is, to some extent, doing her dirty just like the rest of the group.

So, Kate is the Captain of the Marauder, but much like Bobby and Christian’s relationship, or Pyro’s reputation as the violent wildcard of the crew, it’s more an informed trait than something we actually see play out in the story.  Duggan really isn’t giving Kate all that much to do as “team leader.” 

I’d expect a team leader to be dealing with strategies and giving orders during battle, as well as dealing with conflicts and issues within the team itself.  Except we see Kate do next to none of that.  Most battles the group all seems to do their own thing.  We see Kate jump in to rescue her people occasionally, especially in the fight with Donald Pierce and the racist anti-mutant group, where she pulls both Iceman and Pyro out of danger.  But we don’t really see her stop and strategize mid-battle, like, “Okay, Pyro, you draw the Sentinel’s attention with fire creations, Bishop, cover him, while I phase the hostages free and Iceman freezes it’s feet.“  I think the King in Black Marauders is one of the few times where we really see Kate giving orders and making decisions during a battle.  Most of the time, the battles just kinda happen, and either they’ve been strategized beforehand or someone else has the idea (Callisto in issue 19) or people just charge in and fight.

And to be fair, Kate certainly acts like a captain in terms of their general mission.  She decides where they’ll go and what they’ll do, and she does give orders out at sea.  But she doesn’t seem to make good use of her teams abilities during battles - mostly because Duggan doesn’t really want to write about anyone but Kate and Emma (and occasionally Callisto), so he lets the potential of the rest of the crew just sit there and rot.  He’s too focused on Kate running around doing badass things to actually show her using her crew in an intelligent fashion and making proper use of everyone.

On the second matter - Kate doesn’t really have to deal with inter-team conflict because there isn’t any.  At most, there’s some friction between Storm and Emma in the beginning, and they make up after Kate’s death.  Kate’s crew just kind of automatically forms around her with no real effort on her part.  Storm and Iceman are there specifically to protect her, Bishop has his own agenda, but he is willing to work with the Marauders to do so.  Pyro is the only one who Kate would arguably have to win over as leader, and he’s been surprisingly well-behaved.  He’s never challenged her leadership or even pushed back or argued that we’ve seen.  I guess we can assume that Kate has earned his respect, or that he really enjoys the Marauders’ gig and is toeing the line so as not to get kicked off. 

It makes a certain amount of sense, but the lack of friction also feels unrealistic.  It’s hard to believe that former villain Pyro, even with his affably evil personality, will just settle right in with the crew and not clash with anyone beyond getting on Storm’s nerves.  It’s hard to believe that Bishop, who has his own agenda to follow as a Captain of Krakoa, would never run into a situation where his mission and Kate’s mission clash and he has to walk away or disobey orders.  (That was touched upon during King in Black, but then immediately fizzled out like so many other Duggan plotlines.)  Hell, even Bobby and Storm, who are Kate’s friends and love her dearly, might disagree with a course of action at some point.  But they never do.  All is well aboard the Marauder, everyone is best friends or at least willing to tolerate each other, and they all follow Kate’s orders without question, and it feels very unearned.

But to my mind, the worst issue of Kate’s leadership is the lack of information passing down to certain members of the team.  Marauders doesn’t feel like a tight-knit team, because most of the time, half the crew has no idea what the fuck is going on.  So much of Duggan’s story is focused on Kate and Emma having adventures, making back-room deals and doing sneaky Hellfire stuff, and we’re expected to just accept that Bishop, Iceman and Pyro will be kept in the dark.

As far as I know, Iceman and Pyro have no idea that Sebastian murdered Kate.  And BIshop only knows because he did his own investigation and figured it out, then had it confirmed by Storm.  I understand the need for secrecy since Emma is trying to smack Sebastian down without making it a Council matter, but surely the rest of the crew should know about this?  Bishop is a Captain of Krakoa working with the Marauders, he should absolutely know that Sebastian is playing power games.  I can understand keeping some things from Pyro, he’s a new team-mate and former villain who joined under suspiciously convenient circumstances (fell asleep on the boat?  Really?).  But surely Pyro should at least be warned that Sebastian is not their friend.  Otherwise, what’s to stop Sebastian from inviting Pyro up for a poker night at Blackstone Keep, plying him with whiskey and cigars, and getting him to spill the beans about all the Marauders latest missions?  As far as Pyro knows, Sebastian is part of the Hellfire Co, AND a Council member, he’s got no good reason to distrust him.  Because he doesn’t know that Sebastian betrayed them.

But Bobby is the worst, I think.  He’s Kate’s good friend (they even dated briefly, although it didn’t work out for....obvious reasons).  They are supposed to be close.  And Bobby straight up mutilated a guy who he thought was part of the group responsible for Kate’s death.  (To be fair, no one knew at the time that they raided that ship).  Bobby was both devastated and furious at Kate’s death, and they’re still keeping him in the dark?  Imagine how Bobby will feel knowing that the man he maimed was....not innocent, exactly, but not guilty of what Bobby believed.  How is Bobby going to feel knowing that it was Sebastian, and Kate herself kept it from him?  Bobby deserves better than to be treated like an underling like Pyro. 

Probably the worst example, though, was this latest issue of Marauders (24), where we find out that Emma Frost conned the Mercury away from a shady alien, and that alien has it in for her.  (I don’t remember the dude’s name, so I’m calling him Fake Greedo.)  Fake Greedo tries to kill both Emma and Kate, they get saved by Sebastian (?!), which is a nice moment for him.  Sebastian suggests they solved the problem with money, and Fake Greedo accepts.  Then the whole group assembles in the Mercury for dinner, and Fake Greedo double-crosses them and sends the entire group, including Sebastian, Iceman, Bishop and Pyro, out the airlock into space. 

The problem here, is that as far as I can tell, Bishop, Iceman and Pyro had NO idea about the deal or Fake Greedo’s grudge with Emma.  Pyro literally has a line when he’s handing payment over to Fake Greedo: “I dunno who you are, or what you did to get paid, but you happy?”  In other words, Pyro doesn’t know a damn thing about the deal or the Mercury.  And I don’t think that’s just a joke about Pyro being clueless.  He, Iceman and Bishop were off doing their own thing during most of the issue.  (What were they doing?  Who knows, Duggan couldn’t be bothered to show it.)  It seems like Emma and Kate just....didn’t bother to tell half the crew about what happened.  So they ride back to Earth with an alien who has a serious grudge against Emma, and the three of them have NO idea what’s going on, and they get sucked out of the airlock to possibly die, with without knowing what’s happening or why.  They deserve better than that.  If nothing else, Bishop is a security guy, he should know what’s going on. 

If this book was written by someone better than Duggan, I would expect some repercussions from this.  I’d expect Bobby, Pyro and Bishop to be angry that they were killed (or almost killed) because of one of Emma’s backroom schemes that they didn’t even know about.  I’d expect Bobby to be especially angry that his friend Kate keeps not telling him things.  I’d expect maybe some kind of splintering of the group or at least conflict that isn’t resolved immediately, because secrets have been kept that they deserve to know.  But what will probably happen is that next issue Emma will do something cool, and any dead Marauders will get resurrected, and everyone will be totally fine with everything.

Anyways, like I said, this is not meant to drag Kate as a character, this is me discussing how Duggan is really doing her dirty by not giving her a chance to be an actual team leader.  Because he wants her to be “in charge,” but he also doesn’t really want to write a team book, he wants to write her running around in pirate cosplay having swashbuckling adventures, so she winds up looking like a negligent, unnecessarily secretive leader.  And I know she can be much better than that. 

[katelyn--renee]

Out of the Fire (Part two)

Title: Out Of The Fire (Part two)

Fandom: Supernatural AU

Main Characters series: Reader, Lieutenant Firefighter!Dean Winchester, Lawyer!Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester (Moore), Nurse!Lisa Braeden (Formerly Winchester), Ben Braeden-Winchester, Harper Winchester (OFC), Charlie Bradbury, Firefighter!Benny Lafitte, Firefighter!Jo Harvelle, Firefighter!Castiel Novak, Claire Novak, Mechanic!John Winchester, Firefighter Captain!Ellen Harvelle, Mechanic!Bobby Singer, Doctor!Arthur Ketch, Nick Vaught and many more!

Pairings: Dean x Reader (eventual), Dean x Lisa (past), Reader x Nick (past), Lisa x Ketch (current), Sam x Jessica (current)

Word count: ±2200 words

Series summary: A slow burn romance. Reader is trying to get away from her troubled past and start fresh; a new name, new town, new friends, and a new job. A clean slate. After years of planning and saving, she is able to open her own business. With the help of her best friend and business partner, Charlie Bradbury, and her new flirty firefighter friend, she is hopeful, even when disaster strikes and her past threatens to catch up with her years later. 

Part two summary: Flashback to when you first met your green eyed hero and their budding romance. 

Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fire or mentions of fire, fluff (so much fluff), angst, eventual smut, mutual pining, alcohol abuse, alcohol intoxication, mentions of domestic abuse (physical, verbal), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of adultery/cheating, mentions of death, dangerous or life threatening situations, stress, descriptions of injuries, blood, hospital scenes, character death. 

Author’s note: Here is part two! I hope you enjoy this chapter and all it’s fluffy goodness! :)

A special thank you to @that-one-gay-girl and @deanwanddamons for being the wonderful beta’s that you are! Your feedback is always appreciated! Check out their awesome work and spread some love!

All graphics and dividers done by me! :)​

If you like this story, please don’t hesitate to leave a like, comment and if you’re feeling extra generous, share! Your feedback gives me live and motivation! If you would like to be tagged in the series, please don’t hesitate to ask!

Thank you and let’s enjoy this ride together!

<<-- Read part one, here!

Out of the Fire Masterlist!

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

About five weeks ago.

The shop was busier than usual, but being the final days of summer, it was expected. It wasn't anything you or Charlie  couldn't handle, of course, but it sure did make for long days and even longer nights of cleanup. 

"Charlie, table two needs refills, table six never got their vanilla lattes, and table four is ready to pay." You announced as you joined your partner behind the counter with a handful of dirty mugs and plates, having just made one of many rounds through the seating area.

The two of you danced around each other gracefully, moving in harmony as you switched from one task to another. “On it.” She acknowledged, already preparing the missing drinks and throwing in a complimentary pastry for the mistake.

You set the pile of dishes down into the sink before turning to the next customer in line, flashing him a friendly smile. “Yes, hi, how can I help you?” You greeted urgently, looking up to meet a set of stunning green eyes. You faltered slightly, taken by surprise by his strikingly good looks.

He smiled, almost bashfully, as he began to place his order, seeming not to notice your hesitation. “A round of coffees, black, for me and my buddies ,” He motioned toward the booth near the large bay window which was occupied by three other bodies; two men and one woman, all of whom adorned matching uniforms. “Cream and sugar on the side. Oh, uh, larges… or eh, talls?” He added with a sheepish chuckle, clearly unfamiliar with the coffee house lingo.

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from smiling more and potentially embarrassing him. “Venti.” You corrected him playfully. You saw the confused look on his face, his head cocking like a confused puppy, before adding, “For our ‘large,’” 

You used air quotes to emphasize your point, rolling your eyes at the technical terminology. “It’s venti.” You saw it the moment he understood what you were telling him, and he chuckled again, not missing the way he ducked his head to hide the slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

 “Never too old to learn something new.” He chuckled again and winked at you, the gesture setting butterflies loose inside of your stomach. It was your turn to look away this time, your face hot with a blush. He fished his wallet from his dark blue cargo pants, looking at the assortment of baked goods.

“Throw in a few of those bagels and croissants, too, please.” He added, casting his gaze down at the display case once again. “Oh, and a piece of that cherry pie.” He added almost dreamily, pulling out a couple of twenties. 

Upon further inspection, you took notice of the soot and ash that dirtied his face and darkened his hair in certain places. He had dark circles under his gorgeous eyes, too, clearly exhausted after a long shift. You glanced in the direction of his crew members, finding much of the same. “Long night?” You asked, trying to be friendly as much as you were curious.

“I look that rough, huh?” He teased, a look of mock offense accompanying his handsome features.

 You shook your head, a smile still curving your lips at the corners, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that.” You clarified hastily as you calculated his order  into the register, making a point to leave off the coffees; it was the least you could do for him… eh, them, right?  

He winked again and laughed, the sound deep in his chest, assuring you that he was only teasing. “I know you didn’t,” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, watching your face and the way you tried to suppress your smile. “How much do I owe you, sweetheart?” He asked, glancing down at the display screen. 

The term of endearment made your heart flutter slightly, and you couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto your face again. You swallowed the feeling down, pressing the enter key before you read aloud his total. 

“That’ll be $19.94, Mr. Firefighter.” He rose a questioning brow at the total, glancing up at the menu prices. “Coffee’s on the house.” You added quickly with a closed-lip smile, your eyes sincere. “It’s the least I can do for your services.” 

Several emotions seemed to make their way across his face, contorting it briefly before settling on gratitude. “Thank you.” He said, his voice genuine. He held out one of the twenty-dollar bills, paying for his order. “That was really kind of you, truly.” He smiled softly, glancing down at the name tag attached to your apron. “(Y/N).”

A smile formed on your lips before you could stop it, and your cheeks flushed at the way he said your name, your eyes finding the name embroidered onto the left side of his dark blue button-up shirt, opposite of a silver badge over his heart. Red patches were on either sleeve, proudly showing off the station they serve. “It’s no trouble, Lieutenant Winchester...” You promised with a sly smile. 

He laughed, appreciating your observation. “Dean.” He insisted as you accepted the bill. Your fingers touched, brushing against each other softly. The touch, however slight, was like an electric shock, igniting every part of your body. 

There was an annoyed grunt behind the firefighter, but the two of you paid little attention to it. You put the money into the till and collected his change, but Dean insisted that he didn’t need it. He walked backwards to his table, his bottom lip drawn up between his teeth. The two of you couldn’t seem to stop watching each other, nor did you want to, silently flirting with your eyes. 

You giggled when he bumped into an unoccupied table, watching as he almost knocked over its contents and awkwardly fumbled with the accompanying chair that nearly fell over. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled self-consciously, trying to conceal his embarrassment. He ducked his head when he got back to his table, his friends giving him a hard time. 

He hid his face in his palms as a dark-haired man with scruff and blue eyes clapped a hand against Dean’s shoulder, booming with laughter. “Smooth,” You heard the blonde female tease, snickering at her partner. You watched them as you gathered up their order, blushing when you caught him stealing a few glances your way. When finished, you brought their order out to them personally, earning you another wink from the fireman.

The rest of the shift went by in a blur, unable to get those emerald eyes out of your head. Charlie had seemed to notice your distraction and, in perfect Charlie fashion, commented on it as you were closing up shop. “That fireman sure left his mark on you, huh?” She teased, a knowing smile drawing her lips up. 

You scoffed at her and tried to play it off like you didn’t know what she was talking about… and failing. “W-What? No - No, I - Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie.” You muttered, locking the doors and placing the keys into your pocket.

She looked skeptical and cocked her hip, propping a hand there. “Uh-huh, sure.” She stated, waving her hands. “And I’m not the Queen of Mordor.” She said sarcastically, “Oh wait, I am.” She said exaggeratedly with her hands thrown in the air, referencing her extracurricular activity of LARPing. 

You rolled your eyes fondly at your best friend; she’d dragged you along to her LARPing weekends on more than one occasion, and you’d humored her, going along with it because it made Charlie happy. “You can’t fool me, sista, now spill the beans.” She insisted, following behind you with the broom as the pair of you cleaned up.

You sighed, wiping down one of the tables and the chairs that joined it, already knowing that you wouldn't win this battle against the feisty redhead. “I don’t know…” You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought about the encounter. “I can't explain it, I don’t know how to explain it… but there was just something about him… y'know?" You recalled, picking up one of the chairs and putting it on the table. "I just… I can’t quite put my finger on it…"

Charlie giggled, "Bet you wish you could." She teased, clearly hinting at more than she said. You gasped and feigned innocence, throwing the towel at her. Charlie laughed more, catching the soiled cleaning cloth before it collided with her face. "Oh, come on (Y/N)! I know that look in a woman's eye. I’ve seen it dozens of times! You want him. Bad!"

She threw the cloth back, and you caught it with ease. "Jeez, you make me sound so desperate." You grumbled, not denying Charlie's observation, despite the dramatics. 

Charlie hadn't missed a beat, and she grinned, a cocky sparkle in her eyes. "So you do like him." She chimed accusingly, clearly happy to be right.

You rolled your eyes again, moving onto the next table as Charlie continued sweeping under the one you'd just cleared. "Okay. Yeah, fine." You admitted, "I thought he was cute and charming and sexy in that uniform," 

Charlie made an ‘I-knew-it’ face, but you continued before she could make a sly remark, "But it doesn't matter. It's not like I'm ever gonna see him again." You stated with a reluctant sigh, spraying down the next table with the cleaning agent, trying to hide the disappointment lingering in your voice. You began to scrub at a stubborn spot on the table, trying to distract yourself.

Charlie frowned sadly, reading into your mood, and leaned the broom down against the table before closing the space between you. "I'm sorry for being pushy. It's just that you work all the time. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?" You were about to answer when she held up a finger, "Other than this café. This doesn't count, this is work." 

She had a point. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done anything that didn't involve this little shop. "Exactly. I just wanna see you have some fun and that," She thumbed over her shoulder toward the door, referring to Dean, "was fun." You chuckled softly, your cheeks getting warm at the thought. 

"You deserve to live a little,” She put her arms on your shoulders and squeezed affectionately, “Especially after what that snake put you through." You frowned at the reminder, dread coiling inside of your stomach and a frown pulled at your lips at the mention of your ex, Nick. 

Like always, Charlie didn’t let you get too lost in your thoughts, "And who knows, maybe he has an equally attractive sister for me." She added with a playful shrug and a giggle, effectively distracting you. "Fate works in mysterious ways, sista; you never know what she might throw your way." She added mysteriously, wiggling her eyebrows for added effect. 

As it turns out, Charlie was right. Fate did work in mysterious ways because, in the weeks that followed, Dean continued to show up, sometimes with his crew, but mostly by himself. The times he showed up varied, depending on his work scheduled, which you soon noticed was quite busy. Regardless of the hour, he always showed. 

It wasn't long before you memorized his order by heart; a venti coffee, black, and a slice of pie; whichever flavor was baked for the day's special. The flavor never seemed to be an issue for the firefighter, but it didn’t take you long to realize that cherry was clearly his favorite, with pecan  a close second. 

The pair of you flirted and subtly got to know each other as time went on, teetering somewhere between acquaintances and friends. He’d flirt. You’d flirt. But it never went any further than that.

Charlie teased you about it the whole time, of course. She wouldn’t be your best friend if she hadn’t. You’d just roll your eyes or shake your head every time she’d urge you to "grow a pair and ask him out already." 

You wanted to. Of course, you wanted to; you’d be an idiot not to want that.

But you didn't, of course, because you were too embarrassed and too afraid to act on your feelings. You'd done that once before already, and you paid one hell of a price for it. Hell, in a way, you still were. Nick left such a nasty scar on your heart; you weren't sure if you could ever love again. You were in a constant state of fear, afraid of being hurt again.

Charlie, being the wonderful best friend that she is, always tried to remind you that love… true love… would never hurt you. That real love was the stuff of magic and fairy tales. That what you had with Nick wasn’t love. It helped, a little, but that fear never truly went away, you just sort of learned to live with it.

Maybe someday you’ll feel differently.

And there you have it. Part two is complete. I hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I did. Awkward/adorable Dean is one of my favs. Haha. 

As always, thanks for reading! 

Read part three, here! -->>

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278​

Out of the Fire (series)

@vicmc624 // @anotherspnfanfic // @krazykelly // @compresshischest09 // @thefamilybusiness  

[sunshinejins]

if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

(title from brother by kodaline)

so, hi!  jatp has reignited my desire to write again and this time i think i might actually finish a whole fic.  so uh, here it is :) please let me know if you like it, I’ll hopefully update asap, but i’m in uni so asap may be in like two weeks.  unless people really like it.  then, probably sooner lmao.

pairing: julie molina x luke patterson

fandom: julie and the phantoms

warnings: death bc rose, and i swear once but other than that i think nothing else?

Julie didn’t want to be frustrated, she really didn’t.  In fact, she wanted to be sad, mourning, depressed, or literally anything other than slightly pissed off all the time.  It’s incredibly exhausting to be angry all the time, and she felt like being sad would at least give her blood a break from simmering.

But her mom died.  And apparently her body only knows how to process grief by developing a rather annoying tendency to be irritated constantly.

She tries to forget it though.  Instead of wallowing in the negative feelings that cloud her family in the months following Rose Molina’s death, she throws herself into distractions.  She gets a job at a coffee shop near the USC campus and puts almost all her effort into becoming a top employee.  Her grades don’t drop because thankfully her professors seemed to all inherently understand that she just couldn’t sing anymore.  Like at all.

The world kept spinning.  Julie could only hope to hold on.

That’s how she ended up, six months later, complaining over a milk frother about her very well-intentioned best friend to the only person she knew would listen.

“Flynn just doesn’t understand,” Julie moans, shutting off the machine and dumping the contents unceremoniously into a to-go cup.  Her coworker, Allison, raises an eyebrow and swipes a rag at the milk spill that pools under the cup.

“Did she try to get you to sing again?”

“Surprise karaoke night with her girlfriend and a couple kids from class.  Her intentions were pure though so I don’t even know why I’m upset.” Julie shoves a lid onto the cup and slides it across the counter to a pre-occupied businessman who doesn’t notice the extra milk soaked into the bottom.  Allison nods thoughtfully and starts dumping coffee beans into the espresso machine.  Julie watches her with slight awe.  Allison was one of those people that terrified Julie when she met her; everything about her felt polished and put together down to the blunt cut of her pale blonde hair and the curve of her smirk when she smiled.  Soon enough, Julie discovered that she was as warm as any of her other friends, but it had taken a lot of closing shifts and smoothie runs to come to that conclusion.

Allison sets down the bag of coffee beans and gives Julie one of her solemn looks; it’s the sort of look where Julie thinks Allison could probably read her mind if she tried hard enough.

“Maybe they’re going about it wrong.  You haven’t been around music properly in what?  A year?  What if you just need to sit and listen to music again to just get you used to the environment?” Julie thinks for a moment.  Allison raises a fair point, and it’s the complete opposite tactic that everyone else has been trying, which has been to shove music in front of her to sing and give her expectant and hopeful looks. It’s a trial run.  Something casual.

“Where would I go?” Allison smiles a bit and passes Julie a container of oat milk to put away.

“There’s a bar off Sunset that’s hosting an open mic tonight.  Very relaxed and casual vibes.  I could pick you up from your apartment and take you.  We haven’t hung out since that movie night a while ago.”  Julie hesitates.  It’s not that she’s opposed to spending a night with Allison, but a small part of her feels like she’s cheating on her current circle of emotional support humans by agreeing to go. Not that her dad or Carlos or Tia would mind, but Flynn would possibly take offence and that alone stalled Julie for longer than she realized. Allison clocks the look on her face and amends the statement.

“Flynn is obviously welcome too.”

A mind reader, Julie swears. 

“Hell yeah. Let’s do this.”

***

Julie’s feeling significantly less optimistic when Allison’s car has been driven away by the valet and herself, Flynn, and Allison are all standing in line outside the club. Julie can feel the bass of the songs playing more than she can hear them, but the proximity of music is enough to make her palms sweat. Other than the music the coffee shop plays and the strains of country she hears through Carlos’ wall, Julie hasn’t heard proper music since Tia Victoria sang “Amazing Grace” for her mother’s funeral. Flynn notices her nervous look. 

“Chill, Jules. It’s all very chill. We’re just gonna listen to a couple bands.” 

“Flynn’s right. And if at any point you want to bail, we can go get soft pretzels.” 

“But we should try and stay for the whole thing!”

“However, we’re also going to respect you if you can’t do that,” Allison punctuates this sentence with a meaningful eyebrow raise and Flynn nods vigorously. Julie swallows and tries to mimic the courage she had a few hours ago.  The bartender scrutinizes their IDs for a moment before allowing them to sweep into the bar and Julie’s jaw nearly drops at the volume of people contained inside.  Nearly every seat is filled, and the standing areas are packed with people all jamming to the band onstage that’s currently playing what Julie has to admit is a pretty kick ass cover of “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.  

Allison somehow discovers a table near the edge of the bar, and disappears off to get them drinks.  Flynn’s rocking out already, and Julie feels a few of the nerves in her stomach even out as the realization that she doesn’t have to sing sinks into her bones.  Allison was right, unsurprisingly.  If she focuses hard enough, she can even push out the memories of coming to these sorts of open nights with her mom.  Flynn shoots her a large and grateful grin and Julie lets herself smile back.  She’s taking a step.  She’s doing it.

Allison returns as the band switches and a new band begins to play a hyped up cover of “Africa” by Toto.  The three girls lapse into quiet appreciation of the music, with Flynn singing along to every song played, Allison bobbing her head to herself and occasionally letting out a few notes in her vocal range, and Julie just quietly appreciating the fact that she doesn’t feel like throwing up.

It’s all very casual, just like her friends said.

Until it’s not.

As the third band of the night begins their last song, Julie retreats to find the bathroom.  It’s hidden nearly backstage, and she’s just about to make it to the door when she hears the panicked shouts of someone from near the curtain which separates the small backstage from the actual performing area.

“Dude, I cannot believe he bailed on us.”

“Are you really surprised?  Bobby was a piece of shit.”

“Hey, he didn’t use to be!”

“Calm down, Reg.  You know he’s been treating us like garbage ever since that record label thought he had a ‘marketable voice’ or whatever they said.”

“Guys he bailed on us, what are we supposed to do?”

Julie, despite all the “stranger danger” lessons running through her brain, backed up far enough to see into the backstage area.  Three guys stood there, two with a guitar and a bass each and one with drumsticks he was nervously twirling.  The one with the guitar had his face buried in his hands and kept swearing heavily under his breath.  The other two seemed frozen in their own panic as well.  Guitar Player removed his hands from his face and Julie caught a glimpse of worried hazel eyes and dark curls.  Bass Player opened his arms and Guitar Player tumbled into them for a hug while Drum Player rubbed his back.  The three guys looked absolutely wrecked.

Here’s the thing: Julie had an uncontrollable urge to help people.  It’s how she got roped into half of Flynn’s schemes, how she ended up teaching Carlos all of his second grade science curriculum herself, and how she somehow became the unofficial backbone of her family after her mom died.  Seeing three guys utterly wrecked because, presumably, their fourth bandmate had bailed on them?  It activated that uncontrollable urge deep in her stomach.

Here’s another thing: Julie hasn’t played music or sang in six months.  She’s had no desire to, and every time she’s tried, the distinct urge to throw up overtook her.  Tonight was supposed to be the baby step that showed her whether or not music was something she could seriously consider again; whether or not she could feel that itch to perform anymore.

“Hey, do you guys need a fourth?”

She felt the itch.  

The three guys looked up in varying levels of shock.  Drum Player recovered first, and stepped towards her hesitantly, wringing his pink hoodie as he did.

“Um, what?”

“It sounded like someone bailed on you.  I can play.  If you need it.”  Guitar Player recovers next and nearly bounds over to her in barely contained excitement.

“You can play rhythm guitar?”

“No,” the three boys deflate, “I can play piano though.”  Guitar Player tilts his head to the side as though playing a melody through in his head.  He turns back to the other two.

“Bright could fit piano.”

“We never wrote the music for a piano component,” Drum Player wrinkles his nose.

“I did,” Guitar Player admits.  The other two don’t look phased, though Bass Player does raise an eyebrow.  “I was bored!”

“Okay, but we don’t want to put you out,” Drum Player turns back to Julie and she swallows.  

“No, I offered.  Let me see the music.”

“Okay, but you have like ten minutes!” Bass Player finally chips in with a surprisingly cheerful tone.  Guitar Player hands Julie what looks like a piece of notebook paper and her eyes skim the words and notes.  It’s feasible for sure, but she can feel the nerves prickling at her stomach.  Guitar Player leans into her space and she clocks how ridiculously attractive he is up close.  He gives her a smile.

“We alternative verses like this, see?  And I don’t know your range, but we can figure that out on the go.”  Julie gives him a small smile.

“Somewhere between mezzo-soprano and soprano.”

“We can work with that.” Guitar Player seems to vibrate with energy.  “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“No pressure,” Bass Player adds.

“Like seriously, none.  We can just go home and cry,” Drum Player says.  Julie isn’t sure.  She really isn’t.  In fact, she’s pretty sure she should just run away and hope she never sees these guys again.

“I’m sure.”

Well, that’s that.

Guitar Player sends her a smile that looks genuinely like someone has funnelled sunlight into his body and Julie feels the nerves lift for half a second.  Then, they’re called to the stage and all of a sudden she feels like she could puke all over again.  Guitar Player grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“You got this.”

Julie files out with the rest of the band and she’s extremely grateful her friends aren’t sitting in her direct line of sight.  The piano is definitely worn out from use, but her fingers settle naturally on the keys and Julie tries to focus on the budding itch to perform in her stomach rather than the urge to throw up.  She’s supposed to start this song.  This song that she became aware of ten minutes earlier.  She catches Guitar Player’s eye and he nods encouragingly.

She presses down on the keys and opens her mouth. 

Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm calling out

For one more try to feel alive

And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home

Fight through the dark and find the spark

[royalynx]

(   *  💀  /  daniel ezra, cis male, he/him  )  —  is that kingsley shacklebolt i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty two year old gryffindor, returning for their seventh school year, but their friends would tell you that they are grounded & commanding as well as opinionated & strong-willed. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re pureblood, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: the calming presence in the back of the room, muggle records hidden in drawers, steaming mugs of tea, the warmth of a hug, the burn of quiet fury.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Luke Cage (Jessica Jones), Kingsley Shacklebolt (Books: Order of the Phoenix through Deathly Hallows), Jake Reilly (Private Practice), Terry Jeffords (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), Alphonso ‘Mack’ Mackenzie (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Matt Simmons (Criminal Minds), Odafin Tutuola (Law and Order: SVU), Spencer James (All American).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ???

LINKS: Pinterest (Coming Soon). Playlist (Coming Soon).

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

I N T R O

full name ➵ Kingsley Akiel Shacklebolt

nicknames ➵ King; Kings; Kas; Shack; Shacklebolt; Royal

pronouns ➵ he/him/his

orientation ➵ bisexual biromantic

birthdate / age ➵ May 8th, 1957, 15:32 am / 22 years old

birthplace ➵ Birmingham, England

childhood home ➵ Birmingham, England

current residence ➵ Hogwarts, Scotland

religion ➵ atheist

occupation ➵ full - time student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

P H Y S I C A L

height ➵ 5 feet, 10 1/2 inches / 179 cm

weight ➵ 78 kg / 171lb

body type ➵ mesomorph ( athletic; generally hard body; well defined muscles; rectangular shaped body; strong; gains muscle easily; gains fat easily )

hair ➵ black, shaved/cropped 

eye color ➵ dark brown

dominant hand ➵ ambidextrous

FC ➵ Daniel Ezra

voice ➵ Daniel Ezra

special characteristics ➵

tattoo of a lion on the back of his neck that roars when danger is near

acne scars on cheeks

perfect posture

smells of ➵

broom wax

toothpaste

lavender, anise, basil, bergamot and lemon; geranium, ylang-ylang and jasmine; oakmoss, vetiver, tonka bean, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood - Brut by Faberge

E M O T I O N A L

zodiac ➵ taurus sun (x); virgo rising; virgo moon

MBTI ➵ ISTJ (“The Logistician”)

positive traits ➵  grounded; commanding; courageous; considerate; observant; dedicated; forbearing to an almost mind-boggling degree; put-together; knowledgeable; self-reliant.

neutral traits ➵ fearless; calming; stolid; diplomatic; paternalistic.

negative traits ➵ opinionated; strong-willed; quiet; stubborn; high-minded; aloof to some; reticent; stoic; overcritical; has very high expectations of himself & others.

likes ➵ playing Quidditch; freshly baked bread; playing Gobstones at 3am; a warm bed; muggle record players; purple; watching the sea; forehead kisses; DADA; organized notes; wearing rings; honeycakes; David Bowie; dragonhide boots; chocolate frogs; firedrakes; Charms; Firewhiskey; watching the fire in the Gryffindor common room; twenty; red wine; laughing with Frank and Alastor; Transfiguration; The Beatles; his sister

dislikes ➵ legilimency; bigotry; raisins in chocolate; Divination; messy desks; foggy London; Sacred 28; people flaking on him; his team losing Quidditch matches; pumpkin juice; using school brooms; sushi; magic quills; pixies; History of Magic; the treatment of squibs by wizarding society; muddy orange; gigglewater; the texture of mushrooms; feeling unsettled; licorice; rollercoasters; toads; the word mudblood; Turkish delight

amortentia ➵

freshly cut grass

roast chicken dinner

aftershave

sandalwood

M A G I C

blood status ➵ pureblood

wand ➵ Alder wood with cherry trailed over the front like the path of a river, or a lightning bolt, White River Monster spine core, 14 and a 1/4 inches, solid

whilst Alder makes for an unyielding wood, its ideal owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likeable. Whereas most wand woods seek similarity in the characters of those they will best serve, alder is unusual in that it seems to desire a nature that is, if not precisely opposite to its own, then certainly of a markedly different type. When an alder wand is happily placed, it becomes a magnificent, loyal helpmate. Of all wand types, alder is best suited to non-verbal spell work, whence comes its reputation for being suitable only for the most advanced witches and wizards. (Cherry, a very rare wand wood creates a wand of strange power, most highly prized by the wizarding students of the school of Mahoutokoro in Japan, where those who own cherry wands have special prestige. The Western wand-purchaser should dispel from their minds any notion that the pink blossom of the living tree makes for a frivolous or merely ornamental wand, for cherry wood often makes a wand that possesses truly lethal power, whatever the core, but if teamed with dragon heartstring, the wand ought never to be teamed with a wizard without exceptional self-control and strength of mind.) The use of a  White River Monster spine produced spells of force and elegance. 

patronus ➵ Lynx

E D U C A T I O N

Hogwarts class ➵ Gryffindor, 1981

extracurriculars ➵

Gryffindor Prefect / September 1980 - June 1981

Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team / September 1979 - June 1981

Gryffindor Chaser / October 1975 - June 1981

Charms Club / September 1975 - June 1981

Toothill Duelling Club / September 1978 - June 1981

Slug Club / December 1977 - June 1981

courses & exams ➵

Ancient Runes - O

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

Arithmancy - O

Muggle Studies - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O

now studying Alchemy ( predicted an O )

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

health ➵

strawberry allergy

pets ➵ 

Archimedes; the family owl ( great horned owl )

handwriting ➵ Sebastian Bobby

F A M I L Y

Ora Shacklebolt (nee Kayoude) ➵ paternal grandmother; socialite; alive

Kingsley Shacklebolt I ➵ grandfather; Wizengamot member; alive

Yara Audley (nee Idowu) ➵ maternal grandmother; homeschooled; apothecary worker; alive

Akiel Audley ➵ maternal grandfather; homeschooled; Quidditch supply store owner; alive

Alaric Shacklebolt I ➵ father; Gryffindor; Senior Auror for the DMLE; alive

Meera Shacklebolt ➵ mother; homeschooled (opted out of attending Ilvermorny / Hogwarts); apothecary worker; alive

Eralia Audley ➵ maternal aunt; homeschooled; Senior Assistant to the Jamaican Minister of Magic; alive

Gabrielle Shacklebolt ➵ paternal aunt; Hufflepuff; Ministry employee; alive

Edward Shacklebolt (took wife’s name) ➵ paternal uncle; Hufflepuff; job; alive

Khenan Shacklebolt ➵ paternal uncle; Ravenclaw; curse breaker for Gringotts; alive

Kingsley Akiel Shacklebolt (II) ➵ self; Gryffindor; Future Senior Auror for the DMLE; alive

Bianca Omnira Shacklebolt ➵ sister; fifth year Ravenclaw; unknown future; alive

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌

his parents used to say he was born for diplomacy. that’s what they’d drilled into him since he was born: fight the good fight, be honest and good and stay calm, always. they can only catch you off guard when you aren’t. he’d always been somewhat of a natural diplomat — the oldest child, expectations hung from his shoulders as if they were coats and he, a coat rack. he’d always been a quiet child, somewhat unassuming, almost shy, content to play and be alone, often found even as a baby, simply amusing himself with his fist over crying, wailing for attention. when they attended the galas and balls befitting of a family part of the sacred 28, little changed. in fact, he was praised for it — how level-headed he was, even when all he wanted to do was scream and shout and set fire to the curtains by the window to stop them yammering on about the importance of blood purity and their precious, precious privilege, how he smiled politely and shook hands and never, ever made a scene. he hated them. he hated every last one of them. their fake smiles and empty eyes, how they hated for no reason and believed themselves to be superior — a kernel of a fallacy that kingsley, even as a child, could never subscribe to.

but kingsley was nothing if not a good man, and a good son, and so, he stayed silent — at least, to everyone who never crossed the boundaries of their home. to them, kingsley was a young wizard who showed particular promise in their circle, but to those who saw him at home, his internal torture over it was obvious. he had muggle neighbours, even muggle friends, people who made him laugh and gave his parents presents when his beloved baby sister was born, and he could not abide the dual life his parents were living. when they were home, they were tolerant — amused, even, by the muggles they surrounded themselves with, something his mother always said was to keep them grounded, because she’d already lost one sibling to pureblood mania and refused to lose herself, or her husband, or either of her children. when they were at the galas, they were cold, a little aloof, they laughed along with jokes at muggles expenses, they shook hands, ate appetisers, danced and never seemed to show any remorse for the roles they had to play those nights, though he knew they had to feel guilty (he hoped they felt guilty.) he knew they felt they had to do it to survive — to thrive, even, in a world in which they weren’t always welcome, but he hates it.

he loves his family. kingsley loves them with every part of him, loves his younger sister with his entire heart, is never not seen at home without her practically hanging off his ankles, and then his knees, and then his hips, until she’s too tall and too old for that, he loves his mother and relishes her hugs and the way she always knows what to say to make him feel better, he loves his father and that deep, slow river of calm that seems to run through him, the same river kingsley has always felt took root in him, but he hates their legacy. he hates their part in the sacred twenty eight. he hates every part of it. he hates that they agreed to this — to what feels like a mortal lock, an unbreakable vow, tying themselves to this until the end of time. he hates that he understands why — their blood runs pure, he knows, in other wizards standards, but knowing what the sacred twenty eight stands for? what it really represents? kingsley thinks that their blood is the blood that’s dirty, that they’re the ones who ought to be ashamed of themselves for their existence, that they’re the ones who value opulence and power over people’s lives and that makes them wrong and evil and undeserving of their magic. it’s the first time — the only time — his parents have ever seen him truly angry — he remembers it well, being fourteen and all uncontrolled fury for the first time, how the quiet anger had burned and swelled under his skin until he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and how he’d made all the glass windows in the dining room shatter, the glass raining like sand when his father waved it away with a swish of his wand, kingsley’s chest heaving as he yells, raging against their indifference, feeling oddly soothed when his mother pulls him into his arms and whispers that she’s sorry. she’s sorry. she knows, she knows. he wishes that were enough — that apology, that acknowledgement that they were — are — hypocrites.

even still, his love for his family, flaws and all, remains, though he’s slowly pulled back from any engagement with the pureblood world over the years. he’s very proud to be his father’s son — the son of an auror, recipient of the order of merlin second class — and his mother’s. he’s proud to be his sister’s big brother, her protector. he’s even more proud when he gets his letter to hogwarts, confirming what they all already knew — magic is strong in the shacklebolt family. he picks up the family wand, purchased in america in the early 1920s — alder with cherry trailed over the front like the path of a river, or a lightning bolt, white river monster spine core, fourteen and a quarter inches, solid — and he feels a piece of himself slots firmly into place. hogwarts is where his father went, where his father’s father went (over ilvermorny), and though he can no longer pretend to be complacent to their every whim in regards to the sacred twenty eight (something which both his parents have since begun to shun), he knows getting sorted into gryffindor would make them both proud, and that’s what he wants, so that’s what be did — the bat barely touched his head before declaring him a gryffindor. even now, as a twenty two year old seventh year on the brink of graduating into a fully fledged war, he wants to make them proud. he wants to be a pillar of strength, safety, tolerance, love, support, he wants to be the friendly face ushering people to safety, he wants to be the one raining hellfire down on the prejudiced idiots who think that they’re any different to anyone else, with magic or without, on this planet, that they’re superior in any way because of their blood.

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Countdown: Part 1 (Ethan x Diana, Beckett)

Summary: After an assassination attempt on Senator Ed, four people got trapped together to fight for their lives. Who will die and who will live? What was in the black canister and if this substance has a cure? Will it be possible for brilliant diagnostician to push his emotions aside to same the woman he loves with a help of the friend and one of the best surgeons Edenbrook ever had.

Words: 3520

Authors notes: A crossover of Open Heart and the Elementalists.

Ethan x OH mc (Diana)

Beckett

**Warnings: assassination attempt / pregnant woman trapped to fight for her life**

Diana's heart beat faster, while she watched the black aerosol canister, that was falling to the ground empty, hitting the tiled floor with a deafening thud. Everything around her was happening like in a slow motion. She raised her head looking through the glass window. Her hair bounced from the motion, and she swallowed hard, looking back at the empty canister lying forgotten on the floor. Her analytical mind tried to figure out what had just happened and what it could mean to her... to them.

It didn't seem good... Whatever was in that canister wasn’t good... and as more she thought about this the more she realised that whatever was in that black canister more likely was fatal. Her hand involuntarily moved to her stomach, and her heart painfully twisted when she looked up meeting Ethan’s gaze. He was standing on the other side of the window, his eyes wide with horror and she instantly knew that the same realisation hit him.

She could practically hear, how his mind was racing, analysing the situation, trying to understand how bad this could be. His eyes darting toward her hand cradling her still flat belly. The simple diamond ring, he gave her not more than a couple of weeks ago, adorned proudly her right hand. Her name left his dry lips just above the whisper.

It took him barely a second to process and analyse everything that was happening inside the room. The realisation of reality more terrifying, but he still took a step forward ready to come inside guided by his heart rather than his mind.

“Ethan, don't come in here,” shouted Diana, racing toward the door and holding it shut. Her wolfish grey eyes meeting his ocean blues through the window, while she shook her head letting him know that he cannot enter. She could see the look of confusion passing his eyes before his sharp mind could caught up taking over his throbbing heart.

“What's going on, Diana?” asked Ethan, looking at her through the transparent barrier between them. Somehow he already knew that whatever substance was released inside this room was nothing good. His heart twisted painfully looking at Diana's paling face, feeling helpless... feeling useless.

“Travis just tried to kill Senator Ed,” she explained, trying to keep calm. But the way her breath hitched slightly and her voice trembled, didn’t miss Ethan’s penetrating gaze, giving away everything what he needed to know. Hesitantly he pressed his hand to the window, silently offering the comfort and support she seeked for. Watching Diana put her's in return. “Ed got out, but we have no idea what was in there. Bobby took the full blast of it to the face, and Danny and Raf were both right there when it got deployed...”

“And you?” asked Ethan quietly. So quiet that she would miss it if her eyes wouldn’t be fixed on him.

“And I... I breathed some in,” confessed Diana, swallowing thickly while their foreheads pressed together separated only by the thin layer of glass. “Whatever it is, its clearly dangerous. We cannot risk it getting out into the rest of the hospital,” whispered Diana, her voice muffled and weak. Her eyes trained now on the buttons of his shirt not daring to meet his ocean blue eyes. Feeling like she would fall apart, if she would look into his eyes again... not knowing if she will ever see him again.

Her bottom lip quivered from barely restrained tears. Her right hand balling into the fist and her long manicured nails dug painfully into her palm leaving bleeding cuts. Their eyes glistening with unshed tears, while realisation slowly settled on them. But as doctors they knew that they had responsibilities and they needed to come to terms with it for the sake of those whose lives they vowed to save... for the sake of those who still could be saved.

And if whatever was in this canister was as dangerous as they suspected it have been, it was their responsibility to keep everyone who was compromised by the substance locked inside this room. Including the woman, Ethan spent so much time trying to resist. The woman, who carried his unborn child. The woman who supposed to be his wife and spend the rest of their lives together, loving each other. But now everything seemed to be lost... and their future seemed to be doomed.

Throwing the sad thoughts out of his head, Ethan tried to catch Diana's eye, but to no avail. His hands clenched into fists, leaning against the window separating them. His eyes are the softest shade of blue sky, but the determination in them was almost frightening, adding silver sparks of steel.

“Yes, you are right,” he said, trying to push his emotions aside. His voice coming out more strained than intended, and no matter how hard he tried to hide them, the notes of fear still laced through it. “We have to stop it from spreading.”

They both looked around the room, standing on the opposite sides of the window. And the scene that was unfolding in front of their eyes was frightening.

They could see how Danny lurched to the side, vomiting hard. Could see how Travis’s body collapsed to the floor, shuddering violently. And they could see how Bobby's stopped moving entirely.

Diana felt how her heart twisted painfully, when she backed away from the window. Her eyes met Ethan's who already was fumbling with his phone, getting it out from his coat with shaking fingers. Her emotions washing over her, almost too much to handle, but she forcefully stopped them. The teeth dug in her bottom lip painfully to stop the tears and the tender skin broke under the force, leaving a little dots of blood behind. The knowledge that the patients and her unsuspecting colleagues needed her to be strong... that Ethan needed her to stay strong filled her with determination she needed and she went deeper into the room as if nothing else mattered apart of the safety of everyone else outside of that room... of everyone who weren't trapped in there.

For a moment she closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. Her mind involunterily going to her best friend remembering the technique he once taught her. The memory too painful to hold back tears. And her teeth dug even deeper into her lower lip cutting through the soft delicate skin. It took everything in her to try and suppress the soft sob from escaping her throat, when she heard his voice ringing clearly in her head.

 “Zeroing in, push everything out of your mind, concentrate on something that is important and dear to you. What will hold you in a moment. Will calm you.” 

His voice calming her, steadying her breathes. Her eyes are closed, and she easily followed the steps, pushing everything out except of what was important and dear to her. Beckett's voice inside her head flowed effortlessly, bringing her to the happiest moments of her childhood. The freckled face of the boy next door appeared in front of her eyes. The one who encouraged her and supported even through every stupid mistake she made. Who was there for her every time she fall down only to help her to get up. Who never told her “I told you so” even when she more likely deserved it. And the one who was there for her when her heart was broken over and over by the man she loved.

The man she loved... Diana whispered, her voice just barely audible. Her eyes flew open looking back at the window, watching Ethan already on the phone giving orders. His strides abrupt, his hand racking nervously through his thick hair, and his shoulders sunk as if heavy weight of the world was placed on them.

Her mind focusing on him, remembering and holding onto memories that they made together. Memories that were priceless to her, memories that she would never want to forget, no matter how painful or happy they were. Her eyes closing, taking a steadying breathe.

The first memory is the first night they spend together... just the two of them in the hotel’s shower, when their eyes met for the first time. The wolfish grey meeting ocean blues. Their fingers intertwined, their souls connecting, and her name leaving his lips like a prayer, joined by his just a second later with a moan.

Another memory rolled over her and another meeting only five years later in a hospital’s hall marked the day when they reappeared suddenly in each other lives. The day when they got drawn once again into the whirlpool of feelings they once felt and never were able to forget no matter how hard they tried to drown them away...

The first code blue... Donahue’s... Baseball game... The coffee house... The supply closet and her panick attack... Dolores... All of that was the beginning of something new... something that was leading them to the final step Miami, to the moment when their lives would be divided forever on before and after the way they would never expect it to happen...

The child of surprise... their little bean that was conceived the first night in Miami when they finally stopped resisting... stopped fighting... and when they finally were ready to turn the page in their lives and move forward not afraid anymore and more than willing to take the leap... the day she found out she was pregnant was the scariest day in her life, but the day she dumped the news on Ethan became the most happiest. And she was sure that nothing ever could top that... how wrong she was...

A couple of weeks later New Year's Eve came and here, just before the first bells rang and the first burst of fireworks lit up the night sky, under the whirling snowflakes, he proposed. The promise of forever and more... the happiest memory that should be her happily ever after with the man she loved... with the man who loved her.

The tears flowed freely, but surprisingly these memories calmed her and cleared her head, making her see what needed to be done.

Slowly she opened her eyes, wiping out her tears and backed deeper into the room.

After finishing the initial isolation of the room, Diana quickly sat next to Danny who was laying slumped against the wall breathing heavily. His pulse so weak and slow that she found it hard to find at first. But when she moved to Bobby's unmoving body, she couldn't find one at all.

——————————————————

Ending the phone call Ethan went back toward the window and stood in front of Diana, waiting for her. When she met him there, her lips spread in a soft but tired smile. The beads of sweat on her forehead and a slight shiver that ran through her did not escape his keen eyes.

“The C.D.C. are on the way. You’ll be fine Diana,” whispered he, pressing his forehead to the cold glass as if trying to get as close to her as possible. His eyes lowering onto her stomach. His hand moving toward it as if wanting to place it on top of her flat tummy, wanting to make a promise he shouldn’t have been making. “You’ll both be fine.” he said, giving Diana a comforting reassuring look hoping to see the small flicker of hope that would sparkle in Diana’s eyes. The hope that would guide her through this until they would figure out how to save them. But the spark of hope never came as she looked deep in his eyes, knowing him far too well to miss the terror in them.

——————————————————

Meantime, unsuspecting Beckett was performing the one of the most rare and risky surgeries. The surgery, only two people in Edenbrook were qualified to do. His eyes trained on the woman in front of him, making an incision when he was distracted by the loud whispers coming from observation room. His brows furrowed immediately and he glanced over to see Ines, the third year diagnostician’s resident, talking with none other than Ethan Ramsey. It took him only a quick glance toward the older doctor to know that something had happened. The feeling of dread ran through him when their gaze met through the observation’s window, and when he noticed the look of devastation and sadness passing his eyes, he knew immidietly that something really bad have happened. As he seen this look once, but will never forget.

What could possibly happen that would make Ethan look like that... He wondered, the bad feeling creeped up his spine, when he looked at Ethan again. This was the same feeling he felt every time when something bad happened to Diana, his best friend... the girl who was like a sister to him.

“Dr. Delarosa... what’s happening out there?” he asked, trying to keep his hands and voice as steady as possible, raising his voice slightly to attract her attention from the conversation she had.

Ines reluctantly hit the button on the intercom, throwing a quick glance to the older attendant.

“There’s been an assassination attempt on Senator Ed,” she started hesitantly, it was clear to everyone who already heard what happened, that she wasn’t willing to be the one to bring the news to the young surgeon. As specially, not when he held someone’s life in his hands and when the life of his best friend was thretened. But after a moment of hesitation her voice rung again through the dinamic. “He’s okay... but apparently some staff were caught in the crossfire.”

“Diana...,” he breathed out. His eyes locked with Ethan’s in an intense gaze, watching him nod his head slightly confirming what he was already suspecting. And for the first time in Beckett’s career, his scalpel hand shaked. “Is she okay?” Beckett asked trying to keep his voice steady, his eyes holding Ethan’s gaze stoically, driving away even the slightest thought that she isn’t.

“Yes,” Ethan replied shortly, his voice hoarser then usually. “For now..”

“And...?”

“We don’t know...,” he cut Beckett off, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask. His fingers curling around the metal bar, squeezing it firmer, almost painfully, trying to punish himself for failing the woman he loved. His lips forming a thin line trying to push his feelings aside, but not succeeding in it. He felt how his throat tightened with emotions when he thought about how little time they were given together, thinking of how long and pointless he tried to resist her.

“Ethan...,” tried Beckett, watching how Ethan’s eyes became misty and his body started to shake almost falling apart in front of everyone. He felt how his own brain started to buzz, when he looked at the patient in front of him. The patient Diana insisted of taking because she believed in him... the patient those chest was already wide open.

“She will need you,” said Ethan finally able to put himself together, watching how conflicted emotions ran through young resident’s face. “She will want you there,” chocked he, while Beckett tried to steady his hand, cutting into patient’s ruined lung. A dark trickle of blood filled the cavity.

“Crap! Suction,” exclaimed Beckett, watching how his intern acted quickly before looking at him questioningly.

"Beckett ... are you okay down there?" Ines’s kind voice crackled through intercom, and he knew that it was pointless to deny what everyone already knew. The fact that he wasn’t okay clearly imprinted in his features, when he shook his head not trusting himself to speak. The usually rational voice inside his head now was silent, and he was so worried for Diana, that he was ready to run out of the operation room the second he knew that something was wrong.

“Yes... no... Dammit...,” finally said Beckett quietly cursing under his breath. His hand squeezed the scalpel firmer, trying to ignore the painful twist in his heart when he thought about Diana out there that probably was ighting for her own life, when he tried to safe someone else’s... failing her ones again. He could feel the guilt taking over him, but he could do nothing about that as nobody else in Edenbrook had any experience with this surgery except him and Dr. Tanaka. So no matter how much he wanted to be there for both Diana and Ethan, he couldn’t. And it was the hardest decision he ever made, and the one he probably will always regret of making.

“Do you want me to call Dr. Tanaka,” he heard the young resident to ask. He looked up, the conflict between the call of duty and his heart fighting each other. And for the first time in his life he didn't know what to do or how to respond to the simple question that was asked.

“It's his day off,” mumbled Beckett finally. His voice breaking slightly. “He can be anywhere... and I cannot just wait for him. If I will not keep going her body will go into shock. It can kill her, and...”

“Beckett...,” Ethan's voice interrupted him, the silent understanding passing between them. “I know you're desperate to see Diana, and she would want to see you. So please let us call him.”

After another moment of internal battle Beckett finally nod, giving his permission to call his superior colleague. 

After the call was made and Ethan left the observation room he tried to focus on the woman's body in front of him. His hands were trembling slightly, but enough to be dangerous to the patient. The focus was slipping out of his reach. And the task that should be the easiest thing in the world now seemed the most difficult to do.

Usually he could just slip into the magical world where the scalpel in his hand and the patient in front of him were the only things that mattered, but today... today his mind was distracted. His thoughts stubbornly returning to Diana no matter how hard he tried to block them. And when it seemed that the battle was lost, he heard her soft voice inside his head. The voice that usually wasn't the one of reason, but the one who could calm him the best even when no one else could. He closed his eyes focusing on his best friend’s voice, feeling how the calm washed over him and his hand stoped trembling.

“Beckett, it will be okay. Just close your eyes, focus on nothing but the flow of air through your lungs... throught the nose... out through the mouth. Just focus on breathing... breathe in and hold... hold... breathe out...”

Her voice guided him softly till the operation room shrunk back down, leaving only him and his patient. Slowly he opened his eyes, feeling how his hands got steady again... feeling how he could breath again. He barely could hear Ines's voice, drown by the chatters that got louder. The panic from news spreading quickly through O.R., but Beckett not let it to distract him. Gritting his teeth, he hold on to Diana’s voice even harder, letting it guide him through the process like a guiding star in the sky.

Another forty five minutes passed. The ones that seemed like an hours. The ones that seemed to drag on and on without a breather, but hearing Diana’s voice inside his head helped. It grounded him, it kept him sane. Breath in... Breath out... cut... suction... remove... He worked through the process with ease as if this was nothing special, as if his mind wasn’t elsewhere. The air filling his lungs, his hands steadily working, feeling how the calm washed over him, not letting even a second of panic slip in and overwhelm him. By the time Dr. Tanaka entered the operation room, Beckett was already finished with removing the damaged lining with a tumour from the patient’s heart.

“Thank you for coming. I know this is your day off, and it was on such a short notice,” started Beckett, feeling how the relief washed over him at the sight of his older colleague.

"Dr. Harrington, Dr. Delarosa already told me everything. So if I can help you somehow it is the least I can do in this situation."

”But... thank you,” he forced, feeling how his throat squeezed with gratitude. “Let me just finish out this phase and then I will pass it over to you.”

Dr. Tanaka nodded watching as Beckett worked his way methodically around the heart, stitching the Gore-Tex together and anchoring it. And once again, these were the longest minutes in Beckett's life, while he felt around the heart, checking for gaps or tears in the fabric.

“She is okay,” breathed Beckett a sigh of relief, when he was finished. Still unable to believe that he was able to pull that off. He smiled under his mask, trying suppress the desire to roll his eyes when the voice inside his head rung louder.

I said you so. Diana's voice chirped. The way he knew Diana would say it with a cheerful glee in her voice. Because it was her... His best friend, who always believed in him. Who helped him believe in himself. The friend who never stopped believing in him. The friend who was fighting for her life, while he was saving another. The friend whom he failed ones again.

“Go. Be with your friend, I'll take it from here,” said Dr. Tanaka, as if knowing exactly what was going in his colleagues mind. Pulled from his thoughts Beckett nod in appreciation and without another word he was rushing toward the exit, peeling away his bloodied gown.

He was already on his way to the fifth floor, when he noticed Ethan leaning against the wall. His forehead pressed to his arm, and his chest heaving.

“Ethan,” Beckett called out, picking up the speed until he was almost running toward the man. “How is she?” he asked, startling the older attending from his thoughts. His face hardened and his posture straightened for just a millisecond, that it took him to recognise who it was in front of him. The moment he realised that it was Beckett his shoulders slumped and his features turned from the stoic mask to the one of the true anguish.

“She... She is holding...,” Ethan replied in a croaky voice. At first he even didn't realise that this hoarse, breaking, chocking sound belonged to him. Until he felt how his face muscles flexed with a great difficulty forming them. His eyes met Beckett's with a sigh half expecting to find a pity in them, but instead finding nothing but support and strength he needed.

He leaned against the wall feeling like he ran hundreds of miles alone, chasing the solution. His mind worked with doubled effort as a well build computer brushing aside one thought after another... one decision after another until none left. After all that’s left was a single thought... single fear that occupied him that they had lack of time. Immediately he felt how his body swayed slightly before he felt a steadying hand on his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly.

“She will be okay,” said Beckett. “We need to believe that she will be okay.”

“But...,” sighed Ethan.

“No buts,” Beckett said sternly cutting whatever Ethan wanted to say. “I'm not giving up on her and neither do you. Even if it will mean we will need to spend days in this hospital to figure out what it was in that canister and than the same amount of time finding a cure... We’ll do it. We have two brilliant minds this hospital ever seen and combining our efforts we will be able to find out what was in this thing and how to cure that. Di...,” he breathed, feeling how his voice shuddered, taking a steadying breath before speaking again. “Diana she is my best friend. She is my family. And I will do anything to make sure she will be okay. No matter how much time it takes.”

“Then... then let's do it,” Ethan said finally closing his eyes and taking several long, deep breaths to steady himself. Diana’s face floated in the dark of his mind, afraid but ready to fight as long as it takes. And for the first time he finally felt hope knowing that he isn’t alone in this. Knowing that Diana will fight, to make sure that the baby they are expecting will see the light.  “I'll meet you outside Diana's room in twenty minutes.”

And with that Ethan turned around leaving Beckett alone. Knowing that with joint efforts of the best minds that this hospital have they will be able to make sure that the woman he loves more than anything will live or at least they will fight till the end together. And just like that the plan of actions was finally ready.

Tags: @annekebbphotography @emerald-bijou @the-soot-sprite @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choices-bound​

[ortizobsessed]

Don’t Fear the Reaper

This one was requested by @fandomfaery-main. I’ve never done a song-inspired story before, but this is such a great song, and I’m glad it was brought to my attention as something relating to Juice. It’s too perfect!!

Note: Words [bold and in brackets] are lyrics from the song Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. Also should be mentioned that I didn’t use all the lyrics from the song, and the ones I did use aren’t necessarily in the same order as the song.

Reader x Juice where you’re new in town and Juice introduces you to the club. You fall for Juice, but your past makes it hard to settle down in Charming.

Warnings: A few swears.

Word Count: 2988

Masterlist

Opening the front door of a coffee shop on Main Street, you took a look around. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans made you smile, and the rustic vibe of the shop made you feel right at home. The small town of Charming was one of many places you’d tried to settle down. Things with your family were dicey, and you’d moved away from home at a young age, never staying in one place too long.

You made eye contact with a cute guy sitting at one of the tables at the back. He smiled at you, and you felt your cheeks flush. Looking away sheepishly, you made your way to the counter and was greeted by a young girl. “Good afternoon, what could I get you today?”

Her cheerful demeanour put you at ease. You ordered your go-to, a mocha latte with almond milk, and the barista told you to take a seat; she would bring it out to you.

You noticed an empty table with two chairs along the side window, and figured it would be the perfect spot to enjoy your drink and get some reading in. As you walked across the coffee shop, you found yourself looking in the direction of the cute guy once more. He was looking at you again, and this time you couldn’t help but smile back.

Trying not to think much about it, you sat down at the table, pulled your book out of your purse, and flipped to where you’d left off. In no time at all, the barista was by your side setting a coffee mug on the table for you. You thanked her and she smiled politely back at you.

That’s when you realized the cute guy wasn’t sitting at his table anymore. Casually glancing around the room, you didn’t see him. Part of you was relieved, you weren’t always good around people you found attractive, but most of you was bummed. You were looking forward to making eyes at him from a few tables away. Sighing to yourself, you thought, “Oh well.” You would later find out, months down the road, that he’d been in the bathroom, trying to talk himself into coming over to talk to you.

Having moved on from your wishful thinking, you were startled when you heard footsteps approaching, and an unfamiliar voice asking, “Whatcha reading?”

You looked up to find that adorable grin that had caught your attention earlier. Unable to speak, you simply closed your book, revealing the cover.

“The Blind Assassin? Sounds interesting.”

You smiled softly at him, “It is! Margaret Atwood is one of my favourite authors.”

He smiled back, “I’m Juice.” Reaching out his hand to you, you hesitated slightly, curious about the name. He must have figured that out, because he stammered, “Well- uhh- it’s actually Juan. Juan Carlos, but everyone just calls me Juice.”

You nodded, giggling lightly at his awkwardness. Now that you’d had a taste of his personality, he was really cute. Placing your hand in his and shaking it, you answered, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you- Juice.” Hearing you say his name made him smile from ear to ear.

“May I?” he asked politely, motioning towards the empty chair across from you.

“Oh- sure!” You couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but something about this guy intrigued you, and you wanted to know more.

“You must be new here, I haven’t seen you around before.” He was observant, you’d give him that.

“Yeah I-“ as old memories and unaddressed feelings threatened to escape, you swallowed hard, “I move around a lot. Figured a town named Charming might be a nice place to land for a while.”

He nodded lightly, and you could tell by the look on his face that he noticed your hesitation, but decided not to pry. Juice confessed, “Well, I think you made the right choice.”

Looking him in the eyes, you felt a pull that you hadn’t felt in quite some time. His beautiful brown eyes had your full attention. “Me too.” There was that goofy smile of his again. Your heart melted at the sight of it. “Oh shit,” you thought to yourself, “don’t go falling for someone you’re just going to end up leaving- again.”

[“Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper”]

Trying to focus on something other than your intrusive thoughts, you decided to turn the conversation his way. “Your tattoos,” you said, pointing at the few on his arms, and the prominent ones on his head, “I like them. What’s the story?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah- you know, someone once told me that chicks dig tattoos, so I figured go big or go home right?”

You laughed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, as if to say, “Is that so?” Looking at him, expecting a real answer, he hesitated just as you had moments earlier. “I uhh- I’m in a motorcycle club. The new asshole sheriff doesn’t like us wearing our kuttes, so I guess you wouldn’t have figured that out yet. I’m just used to most people around here already knowing that.”

A mess of emotions rushed through your head. A motorcycle club? Was this guy dangerous? He didn’t seem like he would be. He seemed...sweet. Kind hearted. But still, it made you a little wary, but you tried not to let that show.

“I know that might seem pretty intimidating, but I swear it’s not as bad as it sounds. Most of the time we just hang out together, throw parties, and ride.”

This helped calm your nerves, but you were still a little unsure. “I mean- I’m kind of intrigued. And I don’t really have any friends around here yet.” You laughed to yourself.

His face lit up. “Well- we are having a party tonight at the clubhouse. You’re welcome to join- if you want. I could introduce you to the rest of the guys! Most of them seem tough on the outside, but they’re all big softies, and they’re pretty fun to be around. And the ladies too, of course. Lyla is a sweetheart.”

Knowing there were going to be some other women there made you feel a bit more comfortable. After thinking about it for a few seconds, you figured, why not? That was one of the things you loved about the lifestyle you had. Travelling around a lot, you met so many new people, you just didn’t think it would happen so fast this time. “Okay- yeah- that sounds fun. Maybe I’ll swing by for a bit.” There was that big smile again, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Sitting there talking to each other, you’d both lost track of time. The sun was starting to set, and you checked your phone. “7:00 already? What time did you say the party was at?”

His eyes grew wide, “7:00.”

You both laughed, and you started gathering your things. Juice offered to give you a ride to the party, your apartment was close to the coffee shop, so you had just walked over in the first place. “Sure, I’d love that! It’s been a while since I’ve been on a motorcycle.”

[“She had taken his hand, she had become like they are”]

He seemed thrilled to give you a ride, and you enjoyed every second of it.

You had more fun that night than you’d had in a while. Juice was right, the rest of the guys were great to be around, especially Tig and Kozik; those guys made you feel accepted and part of the gang right from the start. Juice was also right about Lyla, and it wasn’t long before you two were really close.

Looking back on all of it now, you couldn’t believe that run-in at the coffee shop had happened over a year ago. Any time you thought about it, you were grateful Juice had started that conversation. Who knows where you would be right now if he hadn’t.

Before you knew it, you truly felt like part of the club, and you’d come to embrace the lifestyle and everything that came with it. Helping Gemma and Chucky cook for large group dinners was one of your favourite ways to spend an evening; it had been a really long time since you’d sat down and enjoyed a meal with people who felt like family.

[“Baby take my hand, don’t fear the reaper... Baby I’m your man”]

You’d always felt a strong connection with Juice from the day you met, but neither of you had done anything about it until recently. One night you were chatting with Bobby while Juice finished working in the shop. The second he walked through the doors of the clubhouse, he made a beeline for you, and was by your side in no time. Juice often wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but this time he placed his hand on your waist, and you welcomed it.

Bobbly politely ended your conversation, sensing that there was something Juice needed to talk to you about; he was right. Juice led you down the hallway to his bedroom, and close the door behind him. You turned to face him, curious what was so urgent, “Juan, what’s this all abo-”

Before you could finish your question, his lips were on yours. It was a deep, passionate kiss, his hands cupping the sides of your face. Giving into his embrace, you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his waist so you could pull him close.

He whispered against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You smiled, looking up at him, “I guess that makes two of us.”

Ever since that night, you and Juice were inseparable. You were glued to each other’s hip, with the exception of times when Juice was with the guys on club business.

But something in the back of your mind kept telling you that this couldn’t go on much longer. You were so used to splitting before anything happened that would leave you heartbroken. Even though things with Juice felt much different, he made you feel like you were home, you couldn’t shake that restless feeling.

[“Came the last night of sadness, and it was clear she couldn’t go on”]

It was a conversation you had with Lyla that put it all in perspective for you.

“I always start to feel claustrophobic if I stay in one place for too long. The only thing I’ve know for the last 13 years of my life is travelling. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh.”

Lyla wrapped her hands around yours and nodded understandingly, “But you don’t want to leave Juice.”

Your brows furrowed at her words. You and him had only officially been together for a couple months at this point, but you knew you needed him by your side. The thought of asking him to leave his life behind put you at odds with what you wanted.

“Lyla- I- please don’t get me wrong, I would miss you SO much-“ tears started to build in your eyes, “but I- I would be so lost without him. He’s my best friend. My rock. I want to leave this town, but I can’t leave him behind, and I can’t ask him to walk away from the club.”

She leaned in and hugged you tight, “I would miss you, too, Y/N.” But when she pulled back from the hug, she looked you in the eyes, and you could tell what she was about to say was going to be important. “If you love him, you should tell him. These guys are used to being on the road all the time, he might love the thought of living a life like that with you. Besides- and I don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth or make assumptions- Juice has always seemed like the runt of the litter. Don’t get me wrong, the other guys have accepted him as part of the club, but they’ve never really treated him that way. He might be thrilled to leave this all behind and start a life with someone who truly loves him for who he is.”

You spent the next few hours mulling over that conversation. You knew she was right, you couldn’t just up and leave, not this time. You’d done it in the past, moved on without a word, but this time was different. Any relationship you’d been in before never felt like this. Juice was the person you went to when you needed comfort. He was right at the center of everything in your life.

[“The door was open and the wind appeared... The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don’t be afraid”]

Later that night, you couldn’t keep your mind from racing. You knew you needed to leave Charming, but the thought of what Juice might say when you told him was eating away at you. You knew you needed to be honest, and ask him to join you, but you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to do that.

Just then you heard a soft knock at your front door. You opened it to find Juice standing there, his hands in his pockets. Soaking in every detail of his face, the scuffs on his kutte, and that SAMCRO belt buckle he always wore, possibly for the last time, you felt tears welling in your eyes.

It didn’t take long for him to notice the way you were looking at him. “Y/N, is everything okay?” He’d brought one hand up to gently caress the side of your arm, as he placed his other hand under your chin. Lifting your head so your eyes met his, he confessed, “I didn’t know why, but I had this sinking feeling that something was wrong. I had to come see you. Talk to me, please.”

You nodded, stepping aside so he could walk through the doorway. Locking the door, you turned towards him, and he looked at you warily. Taking a couple small steps towards him, you reached out your arms and wrapped them around his waist. You felt his strong arms encircle you and pull you tight to his chest.

Juice was rubbing your back with one of his hands, he knew this usually helped calm you down. “What’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours, hey?” he cooed.

Sighing against his chest, you looked up at him and immediately felt your anxieties wash away. “Do you remember the day we met, when you asked if I was new here?” He nodded. “I never told you why I moved here.” Taking a deep breath, still being held by the man you loved, and told him everything. From the way your family fell apart at a very young age, the way you’d never felt like you fit in anywhere. All the way up to now, being with him in Charming, but still feeling that deep desire to constantly be on the move.

“I’m so sorry, Juan, I just don’t know what to do anymore. I need you in my life, but I don’t think I can stay here any longer. The second I start to get comfortable somewhere, the urge to leave just grows larger and larger.” 

[“All our times have come, here but now they’re gone”]

To your surprise, you were met by a look of love and understanding on his face. As he continued rubbing your back, he brought his other hand up to the side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. “I know exactly what you mean.” Your confusion was obvious, and it made Juice laugh softly. “Yeah- I mean- I haven’t told you much about my past either.”

He filled you in on his rocky start to life. His father leaving, him moving across the country in hopes of finding something more, and suddenly it all made sense. You could no longer see what you had been so worried about. You and Juice were meant to find each other, in this small town, in middle-of-nowhere-California. You understood things about each other that would be difficult to grasp if you hadn’t been through something similar.

Blinking a few times as you processed this new information, you couldn’t hold back your smile. “I love you, SO much, Juan Carlos.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you; that was the first time either of you had said those three words. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

[“Come on baby, and she had no fear, and she ran to him”]

Breathing in deep and sighing, you added reluctantly, “I just don’t know if I can stay here any longer, Juicy. I’m so thankful I crossed paths with you at that coffee shop, and that you introduced me to everyone, but I wasn’t made to stay in one place.”

He didn’t even hesitate, “Then let’s get out of here. Out of this life, out of this town. Let’s just leave. Together. We don’t need one place to be content. As long as I have you, I have my home.”

His words were everything you needed to hear, and more. You never thought you’d find someone who understood you on such a deep level. Someone who would accept you as you were, and be there for you no matter what. As it turned out, Juice needed that exact same thing, and he found it in you.

[“They looked backward and said goodbye”]

Within a week of that conversation, Juice had talked to each of the guys at length about his decision to leave, and thankfully everyone understood. You figured that deep down they all knew this life wasn’t for him. The vote was unanimous, and after some tearful goodbyes, Juice was free to leave.

You didn’t know where you would end up next, but you didn’t care. All you needed was winding roads, a temporary roof over your head, and Juice's hand in yours.

[phynali]

Season 6 supernatural re-write

keeping the seasonal plot points the same but tweaking the specifics so it flows more cohesively and sets up the next few seasons better.

we start with bobby phoning dean. it’s been 7 months since sam fell into the cage, dean’s looked for/at every possible way to get him out. he’s mourning still, but the days are getting easier.

then the call. a demon, or a shifter, or something. dean meets up with him. bobby has a photo - it’s definitely, unmistakably sam.

(because wtf there’s no universe bobby wouldn’t tell dean that sam was back from the dead if he knew, so - )

they track sam down. silver, holy water, everything. sam just laughs and goes for a hug, effectuating his best I Have a Soul impression for dean’s sudden appearance. he’s been out of the cage for months, running with this other crew now. 

(not sam campbell because him coming back from the dead was dumb. another hunter group, maybe one that sprung up around or as a result of the apocalypse. remind us of the previous season’s plot and the fact that sam was hunted by other hunters. remind us how dissonant and disjointed it is that he’s working with them now). 

no, he doesn’t think it’s odd that he didn’t go and get dean. dean was happy, sam was happy to leave him to it.

dean and bobby are O.O 

it is Immediately obvious that Something is Wrong. any pretense otherwise is dispelled very quickly and sam gives up the game, shrugs. tells it like it is. he didn’t go get dean back because dean might hold him back, because dean cares so much about coddling him and sam’s fine, he’s great, awesome, actually. he’s strong and solid and doesn’t feel burdened. he’s light. he doesn’t sleep.

he doesn’t sleep?

okay, so something might be off, but he’s not looking a gift horse in the mouth. dean can be his partner again though, sam likes having him around. it’s nice, they work well together. it’s good.

(is it the blood, sam? what? no, no, haha, i tried that. didn’t even take. it doesn’t work for me anymore. how weird is that? you did what? yeah, i wasn’t craving it, but i thought it might help me get stronger. it didn’t do anything. weird, right?)

(sam doesn’t need sleep but dean hardly can sleep after hearing that)

bobby is researching like mad to figure out what’s wrong with sam and sam is like...yeah fine whatever i think i’m supposed to care about you so i guess this is fine.

sam and lisa do Not get along. sam’s smile is razor sharp and she feels uncomfortable to have him in her house. we get the distinct impression sam let dean get vamped to spite her, and possibly egged dean on to her house. it doesn’t take a truth spell for dean to call in the big guns after that.

cass finally answers the phone prayer. he hadn’t considered the amount of danger dean might be in around Soulless till now. cass soul-fists sam and tells hm he has no soul. oops. 

and he doesn’t remember anything about hell? about how he got out of the cage? nothing at all?

sam smiles placidly. nothing, cass. i have no clue how i got out. 

(he knows. cass knows he knows).

sam agrees to get his soul back because why not. then he finds out how unpleasant that will be. he blackmails cass into helping him stop it from happening. (angels can’t get that far into hell without an army or an ally, cass. what did it cost for crowley to let you into hell? you his bitch now, cass? is that it?). 

cass and Souless as feral energy and restrained violence with each other. (”i dragged you out of that cage and i will throw you back in.” and “you dragged me out wrong and if you didn’t fuck this up the first time this wouldn’t be an issue now would it?”)

dean figuring out death can get sam’s soul. sam like ‘oh shit’ and trying to stop that, not by attempting to kill bobby (because this is my re-write and i hated that). except cass double-crosses sam and gags Soulless so he can’t spill the beans on him before the soul gets shoved in his body and the wall goes up.

in this version, cass puts up the wall (not Death). it’s not even clear if it’s necessary because the audience Does Not Trust cass at this point in the season after all the lies and talks with Soulless. Death gives us important exposition about the scarring on Sam’s soul and how deep it goes, how his soul is in literal tatters. it can repair itself, but it’s going to take a long damn time. this is gonna be relevant for the next three seasons.

note: his soul being in tatters is unrelated to the psychological trauma that the wall is keeping at bay inside his mind.

sam gets his soul. the wall goes up. sam remembers nothing. 

cass like :))) this is fine :)))

cass’s lies are spiralling. season plot happens, meg, demons, etc. mr. not-sam-campbell betrays them, crowley is an asshole, raphael, etc.

(can you imagine if Mr. not-sam-campbell was actually bela talbot? she was one of crowley’s contracts and maybe he resurrected her because he knows she’s the best and so she can keep an eye on cage-freed sam because crowley might’ve given cass permission to go down the cage but he’s not stupid enough not to keep his eye on this situation. gaaaah i miss bela so much, and the parallel of sam/bela and dean/lisa and dean’s memories of ruby but bela is Not a demon and she is terrified of Soulless because he’s a sociopath through and through, anyway don’t mind me).

when it all comes apart, when sam’s memories are slipping through and he starts to remember conversations with cass from when he was soulless, puts pieces together - 

cass breaks his wall. floods him with it. the “i dragged you out of the cage and i can put you back in” we had set up with him and sam earlier in the season is now actually coming full-circle in a metanarrative sense, and paying off cass first saying that to dean in s4 because sam’s pain is dean’s hell. chef’s kiss.

end of the season plays out the same. like i said, so few plot changes, just more cohesion and in-character.

next we’ll do seasons 7, 8, then 9 and how they will flow from this build-up better.