#Episode Tag

[creativepromptsforwriting]

What is... Coda?

Coda, which can also be called an episode tag, is similar to a missing scene. It also refers to a scene being added onto the canon storyline. But while a missing scene can be found at any point in the story, coda specifically refers to a scene at the end of an episode. Therefore, it works as an epilogue that the author creates to end the original source material.

This is especially popular when an episode leaves something open at the end and it is not revisited when the next episode continues. So it can also be seen as a missing scene between episodes. Another popular use for it is as speculation for what is going to happen next.

This leads to another difference between missing scenes and coda: missing scenes usually fit right into canon to fill gaps and don't really change it, while coda comes at the end of an episode and can therefore stray from what is actually happening in the next episodes.

Some fanfic authors specialize in these episode tags and create them for every episode. They tend to stray further from canon with every episode, but they can be a fun companion piece to read after watching each episode and reading the story basically written by someone else.

[youchangedmedestiel]

As promised I said I'll give you fic recs to celebrate the fact that I have more than 100 followers now. Again, thanks a lot! This makes me happy! :)

So now, here's my gift to you:

Every fucking fic by xylodemon

The writing is always perfect! I'm not kidding, this is my favorite writer so far! I've never been disappointed by their fics. NEVER! I haven't finish to read all of them but I certainly attend to.

Fics written by deancaskiss

If you like reading about Cas and Dean "just" kissing, then you should try reading those, if you haven't done it yet. I haven't read all of them yet, I read only around 10 fics for now, but same I'll attend to read more.

Then, more specifically:

Blackberries Wild by SaltyWords (agent4hire22) Angst, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Canon divergent after 13x12, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, brief mention of suicidal ideation - around 2500 words

This is so well written, the descriptions are everything, especially the ones for the kisses. It could totally happened like that. It's very true to their character if you ask me.

a kiss for every season (literally) by sobsicles and it is also available as a podfic here read by Scintillating Gatria (LadyLoralye) Canon typical level of violence, Canon Compliant, Brief Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte - Freeform, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kisses, Smut - around 22000 words

The title says it all, a kiss between Cas and Dean happens every season and since there's never enough kisses between these two, that fic is therefore perfect.

People Who Are Good Like Pie by sobsicles Blowjob, NSFW, Castiel is a Little Shit, Dean is In Over His Head, Flustered Dean, Confused Dean, Creatively ties eating pie into sex, Sounds disgusting but it's really not I promise, it's hilarious, fluff and porn - around 1800 words

And it is indeed hilarious imo as well as very hot. It's short and easy to read, really different from the above. But it's human!cas and I'm weak for him in a sense that there is so much potential with him in a fic and that I love him.

You and I Know the Way by aishitara Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Series, Canon Compliant through 15x18, Fluff, a smidgen of angst, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Mentions of Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort - around 4300 words

There is human!cas in there too, so yeah I'm sold. Plus some amazing, beautiful, stunning art from winchester-reload is included in the fic so it's even more perfect. This is smut yes, but, BUT you can really see all the love there is between them and that fucks me up. That's the type of porn that makes me cry. I never thought I could say that about porn one day. But maybe it's because it isn't, this is just LOVE!

Humans Do It Better by Hatteress Episode: s06e10 Caged Heat (Supernatural), Excessive Drinking, Light Angst, First Kiss, Second more heated kiss, Kinda Funny.

I invented the tags here because it isn't on AO3. I need to mention this fic because it was like one of the first fics I read. It was more than a year ago and I still remember it. Maybe because I wished it had a next FUCKING chapter. I want to read more about it. I want to see what happened when they meet again later. I want to see what's going on in Dean's mind the next morning when he realized what he did, thinking about how he corrupted a fucking angel. Feeling guilty about it because it's Dean. I - I, maybe I'll fucking write this second chapter one day. But I don't know if it's a thing, you know, writing a sequel to someone else's fic.

Anyway, I hope you'll like reading those if it's not already done. I for sure have more fics to recommend but I have to save some for the 200 followers I guess lmao. One can dream.

BUT if you need specific fics, like from an episode in particular for example, you can still ask me because I sort them by episode tag too.

[thenameisgul]

I’m so sad for poor cas because he just can’t catch a break, can he?

Everything he did for Sam and Dean made him a pariah to the angels and they insult him for it every chance they get (case in point: Ishim and Mirabel) and every time he tries to help the angels and save heaven Sam and Dean stand in his way and call him stupid for his choices (Killing Billie to save Mary; the man who would be king)

It’s like he can never do anything right in their eyes 🥺

[sheafrotherdon]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt, Louis de Pointe du Lac Additional Tags: Episode Tag, after the finale, Reunion, Affection Summary:

Louis loves him so badly—this whole attempt at self-possession— that it hurts everywhere. “Yeah,” he says, and spur of the moment holds out his hand. He watches Lestat swallow before he takes it, and they twine their fingers like they’re brand-new lovers.

Maybe they are, Louis thinks.

[frau-wilhelm-klink]

More Very Important Photos™️ that need to be shared.

[gumnut-logic]

John found him in module two.

His second eldest brother was sitting beside the pod, pieces of it spread around him, staring at nothing.

John leant against the hatchway and quietly watched him. From the moment Grandma had reported the avalanche, John knew he would have to come home tonight. Avalanche rescues always messed with the family, particularly Scott and Virgil. He would be lying if he said they didn’t affect him, but he wasn’t boots on ground. He didn’t have to watch that wave of white bearing down on those he loved.

He hadn’t been the one there on that fateful day.

Virgil wore a frown as if he was glaring at something or someone John couldn’t see.

John had already checked in on Scott...on the other side of the Island and still moving. He’d be out running for a while and likely would come back and give the gym a work out.

Virgil was more subtle. He tended to pound the piano or vanish into his studio. On the rare occasion he could be found beside Scott either pummelling a sandbag or his brother on the spar mat. To find him here was a little odd.

“I’m okay, John.” Those eyes were suddenly fixed on the astronaut. “How’s Gordon?”

He pushed himself off the hatchway and entered the module. His spacesuited feet hardly made a sound. “He’s as well as can be expected. He’s with Alan.” A few more silent footsteps and John sat down quietly beside his brother. “What are you doing?”

His brother reached down and picked up a piece of pod mechanics. “Just checking the system after today’s rescue.”

John eyed exactly what Virgil had pulled apart. He was pretty sure it was the side of the module that hadn’t been used...and the same he and Scott had finished maintenance on that morning.

Busywork?

“I’m okay, John. You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry is my business.”

Brown eyes glanced up at him. “I thought that was in Scott’s portfolio.”

“Different perspective.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow before picking up another piece of pod and shoving it into the storage case. Several more pieces followed with no further attempt at conversation.

“Alan said you were grumpy for most of the day.”

That did it. His usually quiet brother flared up like a snake prodded with a hot poker. “He did, did he? Did he also tell you that he has turned Max into his personal slave so he can sit on his butt and watch videos while the rest of us work our asses off?”

“Not in so many words, no.” Calm and considered.

It succeeded. Virgil deflated. “No, he wouldn’t.” His brother returned to shifting around mechanical parts.

“How is Scott?”

His brother froze. “How do you think he is. Alan was nearly buried in an avalanche. I expect to be repairing gym equipment tomorrow.” Virgil stood up and put his back into moving the equipment into the locker.

“No one was injured. We’re all safe.”

“Yes, we are.” A chunk of pod landed on the module floor with a massive clang and Virgil swore.

Reaching down, John picked up the piece of machinery and, standing, held it out to his brother. Virgil looked at him with sad eyes. “Thank you.” It was taken from his hand and stashed beside its siblings.

“Gordon was very impressed.”

Virgil paused a moment, but then returned to shifting equipment. “With what?”

“With you.”

That was enough to stop him. “Gordon?”

John struggled to hold back a smile. “In his words...’Oh my god, yeeeah! Go Virg!’”

Virgil blinked at him and John could no longer hold back the grin. “Can’t say I wasn’t impressed myself.”

He watched his brother fight the urge to smile. “The new grapple gun performed well.”

John rolled his eyes. “You performed well, Virgil. There is no harm in taking credit where it is due.”

“I’m just glad I got Alan off the side of that mountain.” And the glum was back.

John sighed to himself as Virgil shut the equipment locker. “What is it, Virgil? What’s bugging you? Because all I can see is a successful rescue with a great outcome.”

His brother rounded on him. “It was pure chance, John. So damn close and it shouldn’t have been!” Virgil’s eyes flared at him in anger, but not at John, but...

At himself.

“How?”

Virgil’s brows knotted even more. “I knew that mountain was coming down. I had sensors on it. I was sitting there waiting with nothing else to do but stare at the damn thing, and it still caught me by surprise!” Virgil shoved the locker against the wall with a bang. John blinked at the strength his brother wielded. “There shouldn’t have been a dramatic rescue, I should have been there already!” Virgil turned away. “Alan and Brandon could have died because I wasn’t on the ball.”

John stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

The glare Virgil shot him was enough to flay him alive. “Do I look like I have a sense of humour right now?”

“Virgil-“

But his brother wasn’t finished. “We can have all the equipment in the world and it won’t mean jack shit if I’m not good enough to deploy it in time.”

“Virgil-“

“And Alan. We could have lost Alan. I-I can’t...not like Mom, please not like Mom.”

John’s eyes widened. “Virgil, take a breath. He’s okay. We’re all okay.”

Brown eyes stared up at him. “I fucked up so bad.”

John reached over and took his brother by his shoulders. “Virgil! How can you possibly say that? Did you see what you did?”

“I saw exactly what I did. Why wasn’t I airborne sooner? Why did I wait until the vibration sensor was in MOTION before making a move? It was seconds, John, seconds. I didn’t think I was going to make it. They could have been buried alive.” Like Mom.

That last might as well have been shouted with the rest.

“But they weren’t”

“Pure luck.”

“No! Virgil Tracy! You were on the scene. You were there. There was no way anything was going to happen to either of them with you in play, Virgil. You know this. I know this. I have seen you face far more than a falling mountain. It didn’t stand a chance.”

“John-“

“You listen to me. I know you. I watch you day in and day out. I may be twenty-two thousand kilometres away, but I am with you every step every rescue and, goddamnit, Virgil, those seconds may well have been hours for all they mattered.” He glared at his brother. “How many times have you sat back in a situation, watching, only to step in and save the day when it most counts? You sit there quietly, calculating, planning, knowing exactly when to intervene. You are our rock, Virgil. Solid, dependable and inevitable. And god forbid anything gets in your way once you get moving.”

John’s lips were tight and his heart thudding. Virgil stood staring at him, eyes wide.

Quietly. “When I’m so far above and someone is screaming, you are the hands I reach out to catch them with. I trust those hands with so many lives, Virgil. So many people calling for help and I have no need for faith because I KNOW you will do everything you can. Just like you did today.” A breath. “Don’t doubt yourself. I never have.”

He let his brother go and straightened.

Virgil was still staring at him. It wasn’t often John put so much into words, but the self-doubt in his brother’s eyes just demanded it. Perhaps it would have enough impact to sink in.

In the meantime, back to basics.

“Have you eaten?”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

Obviously not.

“Food, Virgil. Fuel for your engine.”

“Oh, uh...”

“I didn’t think so. C’mon, big brother, sustenance will help change your perspective.” John grabbed Virgil’s arm and nudged him in the direction of the module hatchway. Still staring, Virgil did as he was told.

“I’m the big brother, John.”

“Yeah? Well, sometimes big brothers need corralling as much as younger brothers. I thought you’d understand that with Scott on your radar so much.”

Virgil blinked. “I see your point.”

John held onto Virgil the entire elevator ride up to the residential levels. He didn’t let go until his brother was seated at the kitchen table. The acquisition of a simple sandwich and John plopped both the food and himself down in front of Virgil. “Now eat.”

“Are you going to watch my every bite?” A definite frown was forming like a storm cell on his brother’s brow.

“No, I’m just going to sit here and enjoy your company.” A thought. “Might even have a beer. You want one?” He stood up again and rummaged in the fridge.

Another blink. “Aren’t you going back up tonight? Doesn’t Brains need you?”

“No, I have more important things to attend to down here.” Ooh, some of Scott’s boutique beer. He eyed the label. Expensive boutique beer. It would do the job. Two bottles landed on the table.

“You know they are Scott’s.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Your funeral, I guess.”

“He’ll survive. Eat your sandwich.”

Virgil was staring at him again.

John sighed. “Is it really so shocking that I care about you?”

“No! It’s just...” Virgil’s shoulders settled a little. “Thank you, John.”

“No thanks needed, just trust yourself a little more.” He pinned his brother with his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now eat your sandwich.”

John held back a smile when Virgil immediately bit into his bread.

-o-o-o-

[itsjustdg]

What Happens In the Doghouse

a tag fic to Hudson & Rex S06E08

Basically: What if Charlie hadn't been quite as lucky as in the episode?

[theflyindutchwoman]

The UC storyline is something that has been looming over Tim & Lucy for a while now. So it's passed time that we deal with this conflict. And with Tim being confronted by both his past (with Isabel) and his present/future (with Lucy confiding about her fears for him), we are finally getting to the elephant in the room. Because Tim can no longer stay in denial about this. And because Lucy is getting at a crossroad where she has to make a decision regarding her future in UC. And this is what I want to discuss about… to try to see things from her perspective.

Because that's the thing : she loves going undercover. We might not understand why, but she does. And this - finding a career that she loves - is something she has been struggling for years. She said so herself, she has tried many things before. She loves being a cop, particularly going undercover and now that she knows that, it's understandable that she is going to want to hold on to it. And not only does she love it… She's also really good at it! To the point that she is getting noticed. UC is the first (and only) division that went to actively seek her out and try to recruit her. Add to that layer her relationship with her parents, who have been trying to discourage her in the past, and it's not that hard to understand how good it must feel for her to finally find something she loves and to be encouraged to pursue. And that's where she keeps receiving mixed messages.

Because yes, she saw how UC could go wrong and destroy lives. Isabel, Nyla, Mack… She saw and heard the tales. And yet, her mentor is Nyla. Who always kept it real but has never tried to deter her either, whose very first advice was to simply be better than her. And Angela. We may not have seen it directly, but it is implied that she is encouraging her choice by helping her become a detective, despite seeing what happened with Isabel. And let's not forget Tim here. Who's probably her biggest supporter right now despite his own baggage. Who pushed her to go to UC school when she had reservations. Who told her they were worth the risk, knowing she was very well on her way of becoming an undercover agent. Even Tamara looked thrilled for her when she came back from Sacramento. So if all of these people, with all their bad experiences, keep believing in her and pushing her towards UC, why should she drop it?

But most importantly : she never dismissed these cautionary tales. At no point did she ever tried to imply she was better than them. She is simply trying to learn from them. Which incidentally, was the topic of Nyla's class, the one that Lucy was trying to listen discreetly. Let's take a look at her recent behaviour : according to Noah, she could have done more UC ops. Yet she hasn't. The second she had the chance to talk to Isabel alone, she immediately asked her about her own experience. These are the actions of someone who is being cautious and taking it all in before making a decision. She even acknowledged that she never experienced long missions which shows she has at least some self-awareness. She understands that she still doesn't fully know what this life would entail. It's one thing to hear it, it's another to live it. She's still at the beginning of her career, where everything is a bit rosy. She just needs to find her own way. I'm not really comfortable with the idea that she needs to be punished for her choice by getting hurt or getting someone seriously hurt. It's too close to the idea that women need to be punished or humbled for being ambitious and that's a big no from me. Besides, she has been hurt in the job before and she's still doing it. She simply needs to experience a longer mission, with its ups and downs, to see if she really likes it, if that can be compatible with what she wants in life. And not just experiencing the part of playing a different character this time. But also the separation, the anxiety, the lies and deception, leaving the people you love behind (from her real life… but also the ones she will get attached to from her UC life). This is after all how she found out her previous jobs/studies were not for her : by trying. The catch is she can only experience this by being a full-time undercover agent.

Which is why she opened the door for a conversation with Tim, by letting herself be vulnerable and sharing her fear with him : that her going undercover on long missions might be too much for him. There was no judgement on her part. She was merely trying to be honest and broaching the topic they've been avoiding so far. Because she knows that her actions will impact him. Unfortunately, he wasn't ready to open up just yet and shut that line of thought immediately. But she looked torn on that last scene... she knows he wasn't being honest with her.

And maybe Lucy is lying to herself... Maybe she only thinks she loves undercover because her missions so far have been "easy", with no consequences when her cover got burned. Maybe she feels obligated to follow through because the department believed in her and she doesn't want to let them down. Maybe she hasn't fully consider how it would impact her as well. Maybe. But if that's the case, it's even more imperative that she can talk about it with Tim. Lucy needs to talk things out to process things. And right now that line of communication is not open. Not completely at least. And while Nyla could be a good option, this is still something that she needs to solve with Tim. Especially if they want to build a life together. She needs to hear his feelings, just like he needs to hear hers. I understand that he is in a difficult position : the last thing he wants is to hold her back. But she still deserves to have all the facts. The onus on this does not rest solely on her shoulders.

And this is why I think it was important that they first solidified their relationship before facing their first hurdle. So that they can confront it together.

[the-amber-raven]

words, how much they mean when paired with love

I have a sleep deprivation headache now but my god we scraped in at the eleventh hour before the next episode airs.

The one constant in Bobby’s life was failure. He loved and he tried and he obscured the truth with pretty words but none of it was enough to mitigate the harm his actions inevitably wrought on those he loved. His family begged to differ. – Or, the one where Bobby’s family spend time in him in his hospital room after 7x09 Ashes, Ashes and remember all the good he’s brought into their lives (which, of course, contradicts any notions of failure.)

Words: 15,028 | Genre: Family. So much found family feels.

Read on Ao3

[klance-dreams]

Omega Shield / Keith finds out Lance died while he was gone

How do i not have a dedicated little rec list for this this yet! wtf??? Also! I will not rec fics where lance stays dead / ( NO permanent major character death fics here, safe reading!) xoSee Also: Coda (Missing Scenes) all my love for the sweetness of his laughter // he is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever by: KaterinaRiley, Word Count: 7,157, Rating: Mature, Summary: The story of how…

[kookicat]

A Void of Stars

The edge of the universe is a lonely place, one where the rules he lives by just... Stop working, break, no longer apply. It makes him feel adrit at a time he'd very much like to feel anchored, because nothing makes sense. Like his old-new face, dragged up from rest for reasons he can't figure out. Like Donna, who keeps breaking every rule he applies to her. Like the Tardis, beautiful and new but sterile in a way she has never been. Like she's waiting, holding her breath, until a new face appears on the tattered, worn out soul that keeps moving forwards because that's all they know, so she can change again into something proper, take her true form rather than the placeholder she's using for now. 

He wanders through the ship, aimlessly, trailing a finger here, lifting a trinket there, turning it in his hands, but he can't settle, even after drinking the tea Donna had sworn would set him right. The dark blue cup is still in his hand, half drunk, sticky round the rim from the sugar Donna had spooned into the brew. He sets it down, well away from anything important and keeps wandering, drawn towards the door like he's in a stifling house and he's desperate for a breath of fresh air. 

It swings open under his trembling fingers and he leans forward, pressing against the forcefield until he can feel the chill of space on his skin. The urge to step outside hits him and he holds his breath until it passes, knowing it'll come back, especially now he's stirred up things he'd much rather have remained undisturbed. 

How can I glimpse the heavens, when I'm too broken to fly? The scrap of poetry floats through his mind, picked up from anywhere, oddly fitting as he gazes out into nothing. 

Oh God, he thinks, and a tiny bit of him is amused by that, that he's spent so much time around humans he's picked up one of their favourite phrases, but the bigger, deeper part of him - it hurts, like an old wound, poked and prodded and bled anew for no benefit. The urge to talk - confess - is still there, burning through him like poison and just as destructive, because for one bright, shining moment he'd thought he had someone who could understand. Who could share the shame and the horror and the pain of what he'd done. Who could understand why, why he'd had no choice and no other path, so many times. 

To have that door opened just enough for him to peek through before being so cruelly ripped away - it's another wound, one that's still bleeding and one he has no idea how to staunch. Even if he can, because the words - my confession - are bubbling on his tougne and he feels like he might just go mad if he can't let them out somehow. 

The tears are a surprise, because a man like him who has destroyed so much shouldn't be able to shed them any more. Once they start, he can't get them to stop, presses his forehead hard against the wooden door, knees crumpling under him until he's slumped on the floor, face inches from the darkness that holds nothing. 

He doesn't know how long he stays like that, tears salty on his lips like blood, just knows that the hole inside of him, the one that rips open a little bit more every time he fails, is getting deeper, growing so much he thinks it might consume him. 

“Doctor!” Real, warm arms wrap around him, drag him out of the ball he'd curled into. 

He hangs onto Donna, nails bending as he clings to her sleeve. There's nothing between the silence and the screaming, so he bites his lip, holds all the words he wants to say inside where they can only hurt him. 

“You're freezing,” she says, holding him tighter. “Come on.” She stands and takes him with her, muttering all the time about lanky streaks, but her voice is a balm he didn't know he needed. 

They hobble into the kitchen - it's warm, and he realises just how cold he actually is, and she stops, deposits him neatly on a chair and sits down opposite him, fingers splayed on the neat little tiled table Rose had picked up from a flea market on a planet he's done his best to forget, because thinking of her is just another knife in his back. 

“Talk to me,” Donna says, voice choked.

He glances up, sees her eyes are wet too, and digs his heel into his shin, as hard as he can, because he doesn't know how many people he's going to hurt before he gives up using them. He shakes his head, and she reaches across the table, sleeve brushing over yellow flowers glazed into the tiles, grabbing his hand and squeezing. 

“Talk to me,” she says again, tightening her fingers, and breaks the dam holding everything back. 

“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse already, and crosses to the control panel on the wall, hitting one button, because the only way he can get the words out is if she can't understand what he's saying. 

There's tea in the big striped pot still and she pours them each another cup, wrapping her hands around hers like it's a shield and she's clinging to any cover she can find. 

He takes a deep breath and talks, for hours-minutes-seconds, using words she has no hope of understanding. Switches languages when the words won't come, ignores the constant salty stream down his face until he falters, running out of words for once, because everything that's being boiling inside of him is finally out. 

He expects to feel better, but he doesn't, just tired and cold and sad, because Donna is looking at him like he might shatter at any second. He digs his heel into his shin again, lets the physical pain distract him from the anguish in her eyes. 

“I wish I could remember,” she says, voice heavy with everything she can't express. 

“No you don't,” he says, wanting to shout, but the word come out soft and flat and exhausted. He's cold like he rarely is - running hot is his nature, and he shivers, hands clenching around the cup. 

“Yes, I do.” She stands and takes the raggy patchwork quilt from the back of her chair, wraps it around his shoulders and tugs him to his feet again. “Yes, I do, because even a brain as big as yours shouldn't carry all this alone.”

“You didn't understand,” he says and stumbles to a halt. “You can't have!” Horror tickles through him, that he'd filled her mind with the nightmares that swarm through his. He braces one hand on the wall, because his legs are shaking just holding him up. 

“The words? No! Gobbledygook to me!” She reaches for him, eyes so soft and sorrow filled that he can't bear it, has to look away. “I saw your face, Doctor. I don't need words, not when everything you were remembering went across your face!”

“Donna,” he starts. “I'm sorry-” 

He's not sure where that sentence was going because she shakes him, hard enough to rattle his teeth together. Hard enough that he stumbles, the quilt falling to the floor. 

“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me!” she snaps, hands still fisted in his shirt. “Everything I have now - everything - is because of you. So don't you dare apologise because the things you had to do haunt you!”

“I didn't have to do them,” he says, and thinks about the bad choices and the good choices and the impossible choices. The ones he made because he was the only one who could. The ones he made to save as many people as he could and the ones he made because there was nothing else he could have done. “I didn't have to. I could have just kept running,” he finishes, softly, and clears his throat, wishing the headache throbbing between his temples would go away. 

“Then maybe it's time to stop. Maybe that's why you're back.” She turns and nudges open the bathroom door, tugging him along after her. “Stay with me, when I go home. Live a human life for a while.” Let yourself grieve, she thinks, but keeps those words inside. “Stop running.”

“I can't,” he says, even though the idea makes his chest ache for a whole new reason. To be part of a family again, to have people around him, friends, noise and bustle and love in his life rather than the newly sterile silence of the Tardis. I can't, he means to say, again, but thw words that leave his mouth are “I don't want to be alone.”

“Then don't,” she says, and starts the bath running. “God knows it's a big enough house, and Grandad will be delighted to see you.” She turns, meeting his eyes for the first time since they left the table. “Doctor, please. Stay with us for a while.” 

There's a double meaning to her words he almost doesn't catch, thinks about how she found him, staring out into the nothing and the penny drops. 

He blinks suddenly stinging eyes, presses his lips together, because want and need and responsibility are all fighting inside of him and he's not sure what's going to win. “Okay,” he says, finally, quietly. “Okay, I'll stay.”

“Then get in the bath, spaceman, and let's go home.” She picks up a pale green towel, and presses it to his chest, pulling him into a quick hug. “Let's go home,” she says, again and leaves him to his bath. 

He strips and settles into the hot water, closing his eyes, and finds the ache inside of him has finally started to fade.

Thank you for reading this! If you enjoyed it, please can you reblog? I do *adore* likes but they don't share the fic sadly! ❤️

[compactstella]

Watching The Mentalist again and I'm wondering if anyone knows of stories that take off from the tag scene of episode 14 of 5th season, Red in Tooth and Claw? The poker scene with Jane and Lisbon ending with Jane saying "I'm going to smoke you"

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 1x15 The Benders

The hike back to town is long, and dawn is already breaking when they finally reach the Impala parked near the police station.

Sam notices that Dean doesn’t even debate riding shotgun this time. While they’ve both been knocked around pretty badly in the last 48 hours, Sam’s had some time to recover, and Dean’s clearly taken the brunt of the damage. His gait had been a little unsteady walking back, and dried blood is covering the entire right side of his face. He’s not using his left arm, now cradled protectively in his lap, and there’s a ragged hole in his shirt that flags an injury underneath.

“What is that?” Sam asks, reaching over to check. “Stab wound?”

Dean bats the intruding hand away. “Will you focus on driving?! It’s just a burn. Hot poker.”

Sam flinches in sympathy. “Ouch. Deep? Think you need a hospital?”

“No. No hospital. I’m still a wanted man, remember?” He peels the flap of his shirt back and squints underneath, grimacing. “No. Nurse Winchester will have to do.”

Sam frowns, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of treating a burn wound with nothing but tweezers and whiskey at his disposal. “What about your shoulder? It’s not dislocated is it?”

“No.” Dean tentatively rolls the injured limb and stops with a grunt. “Just bruised, I guess. Fucker slammed me into a door post.”

“Concussion?” Walking beside Dean, Sam had seen him gingerly touch the back of his head.

“Frying pan. No worries. I’ve got a thick skull. You?”

“Got over it.”

This is how they do it: brave banter after trauma, to cover up the hurt. It’s a tried-and-true method. A manly shorthand that keeps them functioning until they’re somewhere they don’t have to - in this case, another faceless motel Sam checks them into while Dean - looking too garish - waits in the car.

Once inside their room, painted in depressing shades of brown but at least clean and spacy, Dean disappears into the bathroom. Water splashes, Sam hears some muffled cursing, and when Dean reemerges, his face is clean and he’s holding a wad of toilet paper to the cut on his forehead. He’s shed his worker shirt, but he’s still wearing his t-shirt.

“Couldn’t get it off. Damn thing’s stuck to the wound.”

“I’ll help you. Sit down.” Sam points to one of the beds where he’s already laid out what they’ll need: tweezers, antiseptic, bandages. On the nightstand, next to a bowl with warm water, a whiskey bottle is waiting with its cap unscrewed.

“Medicate,” Sam says, tossing his seated brother a pill bottle.

Face brooding, Dean swallows a couple of Vicodin with the aid of Jack Daniels. Normally, Sam would lecture his brother on mixing alcohol with opiates, but they both know that, although the wound isn’t that big, this is going to hurt like hell and, without the benefit of a local anesthetic, booze and pills is all they have. While Dean works on his blood alcohol level, Sam searches the small kitchen counter and gets lucky: He finds a pair of scissors that he uses to cut Dean’s t-shirt off him, leaving only a small patch behind where the fabric has adhered to the wound. He soaks it with warm water, and Dean curses.

“Sonovabitch!”

“Sorry.”

Dean grunts and takes another swig from the bottle. They both know there’s much more swearing ahead.

The whiskey is a good quarter empty by the time Sam has managed to peel the cotton patch off Dean’s wound. The burn looks ugly - a mix of oozing blisters and charred, peeling flesh. It’s a partial thickness burn at least and will leave a nasty scar. There are still a few shreds of fabric embedded in the whole mess and, slightly nauseous, Sam reaches for the tweezers.

“Hold on,” he says warningly. “This’ll hurt like hell.”

He’s not wrong. In the next few minutes, Dean turns into a sweating, cussing mess, doing his best to hold still while Sam meticulously debrides his wound. At some point, they use Dean’s belt for him to bite on. And if Sam’s hands shake a little by the time they’re done, Dean is too focused on control-breathing and blinking through tears to notice.

“Okay. Okay, okay.” Sam shucks the tweezers aside and straightens, exhaling deeply. He pats Dean’s leg. “That’s it. You’re good.”

“Sonofa–...” Panting, Dean looks down at his shoulder, lips forming a disgusted rectangle, teeth bared. “That mother–” Shakily, he wipes at his brow with his good arm, smearing blood over his face. The cut on his brow is oozing again, and all the flop sweat isn’t helping.

“Gimme that.” Sam takes the whiskey from his brother and takes a swig of his own. Then he points from the bottle to Dean’s wound. “You ready?”

Dean eyes him warily, then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a fortifying breath, nodding. “Go ahead.”

Without delay, Sam tips the bottle over and douses Dean’s wound.

“Hunghhh…! The veins on Dean’s neck stand out as he bites back the pain. Sam winces in sympathy.

But at least the worst is over now. Sam bandages the wound with non-adherent gauze he finds buried deep in their medical field kit (he’s going to restock and expands its contents, Sam promises himself), then moves on to close the cut on Dean’s forehead with butterfly stitches. The Vicodin and the whiskey have mellowed Dean enough to just sit through it all in exhausted silence, propped up against the headboard, grimacing sluggishly now and then. He doesn’t even protest when Sam wrangles his arm into a sling. It’ll do both the burn and his bum shoulder good, although Sam has little hope that Dean will put up with it for more than a day.

“You good?” Sam asks, stepping back to watch his handiwork.

“Freakin’ fantastic.” Dean toasts to him with the near-empty bottle of Jack.

“Get some sleep, then.”

Sam swipes the bandage wrappers and used gauze up with his hands and goes to discard them in the trash. He’s tired and sore. It’s been a shocking two days that have taught them that, in some cases, humans were worse than monsters. But they’ve come out the other side alive and largely intact. Dean would heal up, albeit with an unwanted souvenir etched into his skin. He’d come looking for Sam and not given up until he’d found him. Had risked his skin - literally - to get him out. It’s a comforting feeling. One that trumps all the ugliness of this latest hunt. That it ended with Sam having to patch up his big brother wasn’t exactly fun, but it’s leaving Sam feeling somehow content.

They’ve got each other’s backs. And for the first time since Dean picked him up at Stanford Sam thinks that maybe he’s not just staying with Dean to find their father. Or to revenge Jess. There’s something else there. A feeling of companionship. Of family. Maybe, if he’s honest, he’s missed his brother more than he’d liked to admit.

“Huh.”

Marveling, Sam opens the freezer and grabs a bottle of beer that he’s definitely earned. Behind him, he hears Dean softly beginning to snore.

Damage Control Masterlist

Read the entire Damage Control series on AO3 here:

[youchangedmedestiel]

My six first Destiel fanfics

I'm self promoting my fics. I hope you'll enjoy reading them. If you already did, thanks A LOT, I really appreciate it.

I hope they will make you smile at least :)

WITH SMUT:

Salty Dean

Cas has been human for months now. Sam, Dean and Cas go on a hunt together. It is supposed to be an easy salt and burn. And it is, but the watchman of the cemetery surprise them, because of the fire they start in the grave. So they have to run, Dean and Cas on one side and Sam on the other. Dean and Cas end up in an alleyway and do more than running.

Inspiring Fanfiction

After episode 10x05, Dean discovers fanfics about Destiel thanks to Marie, the high school girl that directed the musical play about their lives based on Chuck's books. She sends him some fic links to read. That’s how Dean ends up reading the one fiction that disturbs him in a way he couldn’t have imagine.

Happy 15th anniversary

Cas and Dean woke up in their bed together on the morning of their 15th anniversary. They met 15 years ago and remembered what happened that day. They decided to celebrate this together, as they should.

WITHOUT SMUT:

Leaving with memories from the future

(Warning for light angst). When his future self goes on a mission and leaves him tied up in a cabin, Dean manages to escape and goes find Cas. Chuck tells him where he is and when he enters his cabin, he is surprised by what happens. Cas knows who he is but he acts like he didn't notice.

Cosy Sunday morning

After defeating Chuck, Sam and Eileen are together and Cas and Dean too. They all keep hunting while switching teams. Sam and Eileen are out of the bunker on a witch hunt, while Cas and Dean rests lazily in their bed to recover from their previous werewolf case. Dean just likes lying on Cas. Fluff ensues. (Maybe some smut in a future chapter, I don't know yet).

Beautiful soul

At the end of episode 10x03, Dean is cured from being a demon by Sam and Cas's intervention. Sam leaves searching for drinks and food and Cas goes to check on Dean in his room. He enters Dean’s room but doesn’t tell him that he looks terrible, on the contrary. He can finally see his beautiful soul again.

[usaonetwothree]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: NCIS (TV 2003) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Abby Sciuto, Jethro Gibbs (minor) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s03e01-02 Kill Ari (NCIS), Episode: s03e01 Kill Ari Part I (NCIS), Episode: s03e02 Kill Ari Part II (NCIS), Sick Anthony DiNozzo, Protective Team, Team as Family, Missing Scene Series: Part 6 of NCIS Fix-Its Summary:

“He hit?” Abby shook her head. “But he’s wet and coughing. And not the good kind of cough, Gibbs. The very, very bad plague-y kind.” She looked up at him, sad eyes wide. “Dr. Pitt warned us about him relapsing...” Gibbs leaned over and kissed the side of her head, his actions belying the churning in his gut. “Not on my watch, Abs.”

Or, Kill Ari Parts I and II with Tony still recovering from the plague interleaved between canon events.

[frau-wilhelm-klink]

A group of Very Important Photos™️ because...well, ✨️reasons✨️.