#I don’t blame Sam I blame the writers because Sam would never

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Failure…

Part 8 of the Uncaged series

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

A/N: I’m not dead! Seriously guys, thanks for your patience, I’ve been in such a writer’s funk lately, and hopefully I’ll be getting stuff out more regularly.

A/N2: this chapter is from Sam’s (and later Dean’s) POV, I’m changing it up for a little bit to get another perspective. It’ll be back to reader’s POV next chapter

I shouldn’t have left her alone.

It was the first coherent thought to cross Sam’s mind after he found you, and with the thought came a wave of regret and shame. When he’d first spotted you, all the breath left his body, and despite his heaving chest, he couldn’t seem to get any oxygen. You were lying in a pool of your own blood, Dean’s hunting knife sticking out of your chest, and Sam couldn’t tell if you were breathing.

Then you lot out a soft moan of pain, and Sam could breathe again. The sound didn’t disturb him as much as it should have—he was used to it, after all; and at least it meant you were alive.

“Y/N, hey, cmon open your eyes,” he pleaded, the knees of his jeans soaking in your blood as he knelt beside you. “You’re gonna be ok, you’re gonna be just fine.”

“That’s wishful thinking.” This time, the devil’s voice didn’t make Sam flinch, as it normally did. Instead it set his teeth on edge and made him clench his fists.

“What did you do to her?”

“Me?” The devil looked mock-hurt. “She did it to herself, don’t blame me.”

“What did you say to her?!” Sam’s voice echoed in the small room, but his yelling didn’t faze Lucifer. “I know you made her do it!”

“Oh no,” Lucifer chuckled, gesturing down at you. “You did.”

Sam glanced down to see your eyes half open and unfocused. When he looked back up, Lucifer was gone.

Sammy grunted in frustration, then shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to argue with the devil in his mind—you needed help, and fast.

“It’s ok,” Sam soothed as he lifted you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok, I’m gonna get you help.”

…

He hadn’t told Dean yet. He didn’t know how.

Dean was out of commission for a mere matter of hours, and Sam might’ve already gotten you killed. Some big brother he was.

Sam had been sitting by the side of your bed for half an hour, listening to the steady beeping of your heart monitor as if each tone was another reason to live. He watched your body move up and down in uneven, shaky breaths, each one looking like it might be your last.

And he still hadn’t told Dean.

But what was he supposed to say?

“I just left her for a few minutes.”?

“I thought she’d be ok.”?

“I didn’t know it was that bad.”?

He should’ve known. He’d spent so much time with you, suffering with you, that he should’ve known. Sam let the guilt wash over him all over again as he watched you.

You looked so unnatural, it unnerved Sam; you never slept like this, flat as a board with your hands stiffly at your sides. You were always curled in on yourself, a defensive position that you’d gotten in the habit of during your time in the cage. When you could—when Lucifer let you—you’d been curled up against Sam, and he’d held onto you the same way you held onto him; like the last hope in an existence worse than death.

But you didn’t hold onto him now. Your stiff, cold form made Sam feel farther from you than he had ever felt.

“You did this.” Lucifer’s words didn’t startle Sam, because the devil was only repeating what Sam was already thinking. “You shot her, and ever since she’s been convinced this is fake.”

“Go away,” Sam mumbled, unable to get up the energy to say anything else.

The devil ignored him and continued. “She didn’t want to stab herself.”

That got Sam’s attention, and lifted his gaze to see Lucifer pouting mockingly. How had Lucifer gotten you to do something like that?

“Oh she was so scared,” Lucifer cooed. “But she did it anyway, because she wanted to get back to the real Sammy. The one she knew in the cage who would never hurt her.”

Sam’s eyes drifted back to you. He’d promised in the cage that he’d never be the one to hurt you. He’d failed—he’d broken everything. Lucifer seemed to agree.

“Even if she does wake up, she’s never gonna look at you like that again; that look of complete trust. You broke it—you broke her.”

What was Sam supposed to say to that? The devil was right, and he knew it. So what was he supposed to do now?

“Sam?” Dean’s voice came crashing through Sam’s mind like a brick through a window. That single word shattered Sam’s illusion that he was alone. It should’ve comforted him.

Instead it doubled his guilt.

“What happened?” Dean demanded, rushing to your side. Dean offered no explanation as to how he found you, and Sam didn’t ask. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that he had brought both you and Dean here under the same last name alias, so the nurse must’ve told Dean where to find you. Not that it mattered; Dean knew, that was all that mattered. Dean knew how badly Sam had screwed up as a brother.

“When I got back, she…she was…” Sammy tried to explain, but the devil was too distracting.

“She had her guts hanging out?” Lucifer offered. “She was half dead on the floor? C’mon Sam, big brother asked you a question, and there’s a bunch of good answers.”

“Sam, come on!” Dean insisted. “What’s going on?”

“It was Lucifer,” Sam finally answered.

“Really? The devil made her do it? Sam, you have more creativity than that.”

“I don’t know how, but he made her do it,” Sam continued. “I think she—“

Your soft groan cut Sam short, and both brothers turned their attention to you. But you didn’t wake up.

“What did the doctor say?” Dean’s voice was heavy and quiet.

“That they’ve done all they can. Now it’s up to her. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.”

“And me and her are having such a great time together in dream land,” Lucifer piped in.

Sam flinched, and at the devil’s words a deep pit lodged in his stomach.

He knew all too well what you could be going through right now.

…

Sam found himself in a familiar position when Dean went for talk to the doctor; alone with you and Lucifer.

“Just like old times,” Lucifer crowed. “Well, except we’re missing Michael. But of course he never was one for livening up the party.”

It was true. In fact, most of the time Sam forgot Michael was even there. He had always sat in a far corner of the cage, silent or maybe muttering to himself, and Lucifer didn’t seem to want to bother with him.

“And of course, this one is a lot less talkative,” Lucifer went on, reaching for your still form. It was a ridiculous thing to say—Lucifer knew he had nearly completely silenced you long ago, and if you were awake, you’d have been too petrified to speak.

“Don’t touch her!” Sam snapped, but Lucifer just smirked at him. Sam tried to think of something to distract the devil. “I thought you were in her head anyway.” It worked.

“I’m multitasking.” Lucifer moved his hand away from you and tapped his forehead. “You should know me well enough to know that I can torture you both at the same time.”

Then Lucifer’s eyes were locked onto Sam’s, and Sam couldn’t look away. He felt like a fly, trapped in a spider’s web; unable to do anything but stare at the predator, and wait for the end.

“The doc said talking to her and giving her some familiar sounds might wake her up.” Dean’s return shattered Sam’s focus, and in a blink the devil was gone. For now.

“Uh, ok—so uh, just talk to her?” Sam asked.

“I was thinking we might try some familiar sounds first; you know, play her favorite song or something,” Dean suggested. Leave it to Dean to make trying to wake you up awkward; Sam should’ve known Dean wouldn’t feel comfortable just talking to your unconscious body.

“Ok. Favorite song. Sounds good.”

…

They’d played your favorite song at least a dozen times, with nothing to show for it. They’d even played your entire playlist three times, thinking maybe other familiar songs might do something. But you remained mostly unmoving.

Sam could swear that the more they played your favorite song, the more you started to twitch. But you didn’t seem to be stirring, you seemed to be in pain, so Sam couldn’t be sure if it was just Lucifer making him see that.

“Did you see that?” Dean exclaimed after playing the song for the thirteenth time. “She just moved!”

Sam watched as your face pinched and your arm twitched, but it didn’t look right. Dean was practically buzzing with excitement, but Sam couldn’t help but think of the times you’d made those faces; in those times when you’d fallen asleep in the cage and Lucifer was torturing you before you could wake up.

“Dean, something’s wrong,” Sam said, but Dean was too distracted to listen.

“It’s working!”

“Ohhh it’s working alright.” Lucifer was suddenly at your side, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “In fact, this little soundtrack is just the touch I needed.”

“What do you mean?” Sam demanded, but Lucifer just grinned at him. “Dean, turn it off! Turn the song off!”

“What?” Dean was frowning at Sam, but Sam ignored the question and snatched the phone from his brother, stopping the music.

“Hey, it was just getting good,” Lucifer whined. Sam ignored him and Dean’s protests and turned his attention to you.

You’d stopped twitching, but your lips were still curled in a grimace.

“It’s ok,” Sam whispered, reaching for your hand. “It’s ok, I’m here.”

“Like that’s reassuring,” Lucifer scoffed. “You’re the reason she’s here. You kept talking about how pain makes me go away, and now look where that’s got her.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Dean snapped. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Lucifer, he—“ Sam swallowed. “He said something about being in her head. He wanted the music to keep going. I don’t—I don’t know what he was doing with it, but it couldn’t have been anything good.”

“You’re right about that,” Lucifer spoke up. “But it’s not like turning that music off keeps me from hurting her. She’s still—“

A cacophony of beeping from the heart monitor attached to you startled the brothers.

“What is that?” Dean demanded. “Why is it doing that?”

“I don’t—I don’t—“

“Oh that’s just a little indicator of what’s going on up here,” Lucifer tapped your forehead with his finger. “It’s really starting to get good.”

…

Dean was lost.

He didn’t know the first step toward helping you. That used to be what he was best at; taking care of his little siblings. But not anymore. He felt like someone had dropped him blindfolded in the bunker, and he was trying to walk around, but everything was in the wrong place; he felt like he didn’t know his own home anymore.

You were supposed to be his home—you and Sam—but he couldn’t even tell when you were hurting. Lucifer had used Dean’s own attempts to wake you up to torture you, and Dean hadn’t even been able to see it. Sam was proving again and again that he knew every inch of you, and Dean didn’t know you at all anymore.

But he couldn’t let that stop him. Especially not now, with your heart monitor going off the charts, and Sam being preoccupied trying to get the devil in his head to tell him what was wrong with you. Now it was Dean’s turn to step in, even if he didn’t know the way.

“Look, kid.” Dean’s voice broke, and he cleared his throat, glancing around subconsciously. “I guess you can hear me, I don’t know. I know I have no idea what you went through in the cage with Sammy, and I got no clue what you’re going through now. Maybe it feels like you’re back there all over again. But you’re not, you hear me? It’s not the same.”

The grimace had left your face, but the heart monitor was still going nuts.

“Back then, you thought you’d never get out, so you had nothing to fight for. But you do now, understand? You’ve got something to fight for. You’ve got me and Sammy, and we’re waiting for you over here. It’s not the cage, kid; this is your mind, and you gotta take control of it. You gotta wake up.”

The monitor continued to jump around, and Sam continued to talk to an enemy that Dean couldn’t see.

“You gotta wake up—because I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you don’t.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

Uncaged Taglist:

@redbird-tf @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @o-birdseed-o @hopefuldreamers-world @s0urw00lf @yasmin12312 @star-maker-rain-dancer

[writtenbyan-aries]

I was unsure if you had a specific way you receive/handle your requests so I'm sorry in advance. But, I've been in sort of an angsty mood recently and was wondering if you could do like an all angst, no comfort type thing for Sam or Colby, or both, it truly doesn't matter to me. I've been reading through fics and whatnot, none are angsting the way I want them too😭. Please don't feel like you have too, I just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask, and your such a good writer, I love your work!!💞

∶ Summary: reader deals with the breakup between her and Sam

∶ Warnings: angsty, fighting, arguing, swearing, sad!reader, happy ending.. kinda

∶ Word Count: 3.6k | unedited

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“Do you even remember being happy together?” You tilt your head, tears streaming down your face, “Because I do.”

Sam stands across from you, “I don’t even know why I came the fuck home.” He runs his hand over his face, “Fuck, y/n, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to stand here and lie to you, tell you that the last year has been a walk in the park or something?”

“No.” You shake your head, “I just can’t remember the last time we were together and it wasn’t spent fucking screaming at each.”

“Can’t tell you.” He shrugs, “I don’t know what you want me to say, y/n. I work, I have to travel for work. You have the complete ability to come with me, but yet you choose to stay here.”

“Because I have a job, Sam. A job that makes it so you don’t have to constantly have to pay for me. I know what you say to your friends, bitching that I can buy my own coffee when you and I both fucking know that I can.”

“I have never bitched about buying you anything to anyone, so who ever told you that is a fucking liar.” He laughs, letting out a groan, “Fuck, but it doesn’t matter, you’re not going to believe me anyway.”

“There you go again, blaming everyone but your fucking self.” You scoff, shaking your head, “Whatever. I can’t keep doing this. It’s fight after fight anymore. We’re supposed to be happy, and we can’t even spend five minutes together without one of us having some dumb shit to say that sparks an argument apparently.”

“I travel, y/n.” He stares at you, “You would how know hard that is if you came with me for once.”

“You said that already, Sam.” You laugh, sniffling as you wipe your face, “You know what, no. I’m not doing this.” You look around, grabbing anything that’s his and throwing it at him, “Just go.”

“What the fuck.. are you doing?” He catches his sweatshirt and throws it on the couch, “Y/n, what-“

“Maybe we’re just better apart, Sam.”

You stand there staring at him as he stares at you.

“Do you think we’re better for it?” He asks lowly and you shrug, “I know I can’t keep doing this. Being good to each other and then listening to my friends tell me just give it till summer, knowing one of us will..” You motion at the strewn objects on the floor, “fuck it up again.”

He nods, “Okay. Fine. We’re done.” He beds down and you walk into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you try to collect yourself.

He walks in and you press your hands into the counter, “Can you just fucking leave already?” You storm out and he follows, “Is there someone else?”

You stop in your tracks, “No, Sam. There isn’t anyone fucking else. If there was, why would I fucking put up with almost two years of fighting with you, trying to make our relationship work if I was just fucking you over?”

He nods, “Jesus Christ, it was just a question.”

You laugh in disbelief, “A wrong one to fucking ask, and you know it.”

“Right like I know all the answers to everything.” He walks into the kitchen, the sound of glass breaking makes you jump slightly and you walk over, “So now you’re breaking my dishes because you’re disappointed? Fucking great, Sam. That’s just fucking great.”

You bend down, picking of the large pieces of the broken plate and leaning over to put them in the trash.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He bends down, “But yeah, since you brought it up, I’m just disappointed in how much you couldn’t be there for me. You have time saved up to take off of work.”

“I’ll just take the blame, you can go tell your friends and the people that care about you that I broke up with you because I couldn’t-“ you stop, taking a deep breath, “Just go, Sam. Just get the fuck out of my house.”

“Why can’t we just work through this, we did times before.” He sits on the floor and you rest back on your calves, reaching over to dump the smaller pieces into the trash, “Because each time we fought before, you called, said you missed me, and I bit back onto it.”

You shake your head, “But now, I’m just starting to think that we’re just believing our own lies, forcing two pieces of a puzzle that won’t fit together.”

You stand up and walk back out to the living room, fighting back tears as your eyes scan his stuff on the floor in a pile.

You lay your hands over your face, turning away from him as you hear him walk out. You wipe your face, holding it together as you turn back around, “Lock the door when you go.”

You walk into your room and close the door. You rest your forehead against the wood, sniffling as the tears start flowing.

You hear shuffling and before you know it, the door closes behind him.

You open the door, walking back out. Your eyes scanning over the silent area. Your hand presses to your mouth as you sob, bending down to the ground.

You were cursing yourself, begging yourself to chase after him, but if you go, it’ll just make things worse.

You lift your head, your eyes moving to the couch.

“You didn’t start it without me did you?” Sam runs in, stepping over the back of the couch, “I love the beginning of this movie. It’s so funny.” You shake your head, “No, I waited for you. I know the beginning is your favorite part.”

He looks over at you, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for knowing me.” He smile and you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re welcome.” You cuddle into his side, pressing okay on the remote.

He pulls you closer, letting out a sigh, “If we could make money just by doing this, I think we would be set. It would be the best job in the world.” You look up at him, “Why, because you’d get to sit on the couch and watch movies all day?”

He shakes his head, “No because I’d get to spend all the time in the world with you.”

You walk over to the kitchen, peering in as you rest against the entry way.

“Oh my gosh, I love this song.” You reach over, turning the speaker up louder. You spin around, sliding over the tiles in your socks to Sam, “I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.”

Sam sings along, “Uh huh, that’s right.” He takes your hand, spinning you around, “Darling, you’re the one I want.” He dips you down, pressing a kiss to your lips as he stands you up, “Would you really accept a paper ring from me?”

You give him a shrug, “Depends on the kind of paper.” You smirk and he laughs, “I mean, yeah. It’s gotta be stuff that won’t rip or tear easy.” He snaps and points, “I know, I’ll laminate it.” You break out in laughter, “Not a bad idea.”

You can feel your body shaking as you reach up to lay your hand over your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you drag it down over your face, “Fuck.” You shake your head, “What the fuck is wrong with us?”

You walk over to the bathroom, staring at your red and puffy face in the mirror. You turn the water on, staring it as you replay yet another memory that Sam must have forgotten about.

Sam walks into the bathroom, stopping when he sees you relaxing in the tub, “So I’m just assuming that my invitation got lost in the mail or something?”

You laugh, “I don’t think we’ll both fit in here.”

He pulls his shirt up over his head, stripping down before walking over, “Um, we can make it work? Now scoot.” You laugh as you sit up, turning to watch him step in and he sits behind you, “Now lean back here.”

You lean back, your back pressing against his chest as his arms slide over your shoulder, and you let out a sigh, “Oh I could get used to this.” He runs his hand over your wet hair, pressing a kiss to your head, “So don’t let my invitation get lost next time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, small sobs slipping from your lips as you shake your head. You turn the water off, giving up the thought of trying to help the redness around your eyes go down.

You walk over to the bedroom, your eyes instantly moving to a dresser drawer that’s still half open from when he came over earlier today.

You walk over, pulling out one of his tee shirts and you clench it in your fists, pulling it to your chest as you sit on the bed.

The same bed where you have given yourself to him over and over again. The same bed that holds countless hours of deep and pointless conversation.

“What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t a ghost hunter, Sam?” You whispers, breaking the peaceful silence. He hums lowly as his fingers softly rake up and down your arm, “Mm, not sure. I know I’d still want you in my life either way, though.”

“Really?” You smile and he presses a kiss to your head, “I can’t picture my life with anyone but you.” You grab his hand and pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “I’m glad we feel the same way, babe.”

“Plus, I mean..” he laughs, “Not to brag, but I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. I had a big crush on you in high school.”

You cover your face with his shirt, using it to muffle your loud sobs. You pictured your future with Sam. Having a family with him. Buying a big house.

You sat up, pulling your phone from your pocket. You were hoping to see a text or something from him, but there was nothing. Just his face on your Lock Screen and that was just salt to the wound.

You locked your phone, tossing it behind you onto the bed.

Your eyes scanned over your room, gazing out the open doorway. You feel like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest was tight, and you were shaking like a leaf.

No matter where you looked, you were reminded of Sam. Every corner of this house was haunted and you wanted nothing more than to have him come back and tell him how much you loved him, how much you missed him, and just how sorry you were, how sorry you are.

You felt like it was all your fault. Doing long distance when you had the choice not to. Choosing making your own money over spending time with him in whatever place he was in that day.

Nothing happened the way you wanted, and for that, you were kicking your own ass, and you were kicking it hard.

You let out a gasp as your phone started to vibrate. You flipped it over, seeing it was an incoming call from one of your friends.

You hesitate, but decide to answer, “h-hello?”

“Hey I- wait, what’s wrong?”

“W-we’re over.” The words coming out of your mouth brought everything back, and you break down, “We.. got.. into it again..” you press your hand to your mouth, “I-I told him.. to just.. get out.”

You press your hand to your chest, “Fuck, it-it feels like.. I can’t breathe, Vee. I-I-“

“Okay, okay. I’m right here. I’ll come get you. I’ll stay on the phone until I’m there. Just get around, you can stay at my place tonight.”

“O-oh-Kay.” You lay his shirt down on the bed and walk over to grab a few items of clothing. You pack them into your backpack, sniffling and gasping uncontrollably as you stuff them inside.

“I’m coming onto your street now, okay. You still with me?”

“Y-yeah.” You grab your phone and walk out to your door. You grab your keys, stuffing them into your sweatshirt pocket as you slip on your shoes.

“Are- are you.. here?”

“Almost. I’m almost there.”

“Ok-ay.” You open your door and step out, taking a deep breath. The cool air calmed you down, but only for a second. You seen Vee’s car pull into your driveway and you walk down, running to her as she gets out and opens her arms.

“I’m so sorry.” She holds you tight, “You can talk about it if you want, okay?”

“I-I miss him..” you sniffle hard, “When- when we were.. g-good, we-we were.. good, y-you kn-know?”

She walks you around, “Come on. We’ll go for a drive.” She opens your door and helps you in before running around and getting in herself, “I was hoping you and Sam would work out. I really liked him for you.”

“It’s..” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down so you can speak, “The f-fighting. It was so-so, constant now.”

“Why were you guys fighting?” She glances over at you and you shrug, “I had standards for myself, o-or morals, fuck, I-i don’t know.” You lay your hand over your face, “I was focused on working, like that wou-would be what I would do while he’s gone, but he wanted-wanted me to go with him, and I fu-fucked up up by not going.”

“That’s not your fault. You like making money, there’s nothing wrong with that.” She shakes her head, “I mean, maybe you guys needed this. Maybe some time apart can get you guys to really think.”

You scoff, “I- doubtful. I just think t-that.. doing the long distance when we didn’t have to came between us and it’s my fault for that.”

“You did what you thought was right, and yeah, maybe working all the time wasn’t sufficient, but that’s what you are used to. I can’t remember a time you took off of work for anything other than being violently sick.”

“R-right.. I mean I know- I know you’re supposed t-to put your-your partner first, and for that, I’m paying the price for not doing it.” You groan as your hands cover your face, “Fuck, why am I like this?”

“Don’t beat yourself up. Sam could have pushed for you to come more, he could have called in for you, talked to your boss? He knows him right?”

You nod, “I just feel bad blaming him.”

“That’s because you love him, y/n, but even though we love someone, that doesn’t give them a pass at being not held accountable.” Vee looks over at you and you nod, “You’re the only one who supported me. Everyone else thought I was wasting my time with being with him.”

“As I said, I liked Sam for you, and a big part of me is hoping that you two find your way back together.” He reaches over, letting out a sigh as he squeezes your shoulder, “just don’t push it. If it’s mean to be, it’ll happen.”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear, “You’re right.”

She gives you a small smile, “I just got a big tub of ice cream, and right now, it has your name written all over it.”

────────────────────────

“I miss fighting in his old apartment.” You laugh slightly, “And I don’t mean big fighting, we’d argue over who was making dinner, what we were watching on tv, who’s hogging the blanket.”

“Um, didn’t you say I could have picked the movie for tonight?” He points to the tv and you furrow your brows, “Oh, did I say that?” You glance at the tv, “I think it’s a spooky movie kind of night.”

“Do you ever think that maybe I wanted it to be a chick flick kind of night?” He scoffs playfully and crosses his arms, “No, I don’t think you did.”

You sigh, “Fine, if you want to watch Mean Girls, we can.” He laughs, plopping down next to you on the couch, “No, I want you cowering in my lap when you’re scared.”

You snort, shaking your head as you hand her back the thing of ice cream, “Everything I know brings me back to us, to him.” You look up at her, “Do you really think he’s done?”

She shrugs, eating a spoonful of ice cream, “I wouldn’t say he’s done, I just think he knows that you both just need some time away right now. Simmer down before you guys end up going at it all over again.”

You nod, “Right, yeah.” You let out a sigh, reaching back for the ice cream, “I just.. I don’t want to leave him, we’ve been here before, but no one ever actually left, you know? Like we always found our way around it. This time, it just-“ you purse your lips, fighting back tears, “Feels different..”

“Everything is fresh, y/n.” Vee sighs, “Going through a breakup, especially with someone who you’ve been through so much with, is not easy by any means.”

“Yeah.” You bring your hands up to your face, sniffling into them, “Sorry, I-“

“Don’t be sorry.” She cuts you off, moving over to sit right next to you, “You helped me last year, so now it’s my turn to return the favor. I’m always here, you know that.”

The door bell rings and she perks up, “Pizza’s here, finally.” She gets up and walks over to the door. Your heart was racing, a part of it hoped it was Sam.

“Y/n.” Vee calls out and you jump up, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, but do you have change for a twenty on you?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. Here.” You bend down to your backpack and pull out your wallet. You walk over two tens and exchange it for the pizza.

“Thank you, have a good night.” The driver smiles and walks away. Vee closes the door and walks back over to the couch with you.

The rest of the night, you ate pizza, ice cream, and talked until what felt like you were out of tears.

The next morning, you woke up and went to the bathroom. You were appalled at how puffy and red your face was.

You splashed some cold water on, patting it under your eyes and dried off.

You walked out and Vee gives you a smile, “How are you feeling?” You give her a shrug, “The same, just without tears.” You laugh slightly and take the mug she hands you, “Thank you, for everything.”

She gives you a smile, “Anytime.”

After a little while, you got the urge to check your phone, but you were doing alright for right now, and you didn’t want to bring it all back.

So you left it go.

“Theres a new movie in theaters, a showing at six if you want to go?” Vee looks at you and you nod, “Yeah, sure. I’m down to see a new movie.”

She smiles, “I’ll get two tickets now.”

You nod, “I want to stop at my house first, I don’t want to go out looking like this.” She laughs, “Yeah no problem. I have a few things to do, I can drop you off on my way into town?”

“That’s fine.” You get up to gather your things and on the way home, everything hits you all at once, but you hold it together until you’re at your front door.

As soon as you open the door, you start to sob, seeing everything that you and Sam once shared slaps you in the face.

You pull out your phone, ignoring all of the built up notifications on your screen as you call into your job.

“Thank you for called Mistian’s Inc, Juliet speaking, how can I direct your call?”

“Hey, Juliet, it’s y/n. Can you patch me through to Dean?”

“Sure can. Give me one second.”

“Thanks.”

The phone rings a few times before Dean picks up, “Y/n, what can I do for you?”

You sniffle, “Hey, I had something come up. Can I use my time and take a few week off of work?”

“Are you okay? You sound upset.” He asks, “But yes, I’ll put that down right now for you.” You let out a laugh, “Um, Sam.. and I broke up again, and I just need a little bit of me time.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, y/n. I’ll put you down to return next month, say the fifteenth?”

“That’s good, thank you.”

“Of course.”

You hang up and let out a sigh. You check your texts, nothing from Sam, but one from your sister that says she has stuff to drop off for you.

You text her back, Just leave it on my porch. When are you coming? She instantly replies, I can drop it off in a few. You answer and walk over to the kitchen to get a drink.

As you stand staring at the floor, there’s a knock on your door and you sigh, “I told her just to leave it.” You mumble, angry that she can’t listen to a simple request.

You open the door, freezing when you see Sam standing there, eyes just as puffy and red as yours, “I miss you, I’m sorry.”

────────────────────────

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[luna-rainbow]

Thanks for your answer for the last ask.

What is wrong with the writers of the new MCU material? Do they just hate Bucky, especially the writer of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier (he's NOT the Winter Soldier anymore!)? Did Bucky kick their cat or something? This hatred and victim blaming is not justified! "Oh Bucky's just a cray-cray psycho killing machine with cool metal arm but probably belongs in a padded cell. Lol he says he had no choice such a lame excuse..."

Soo…I don’t know if people still remember the rumours from back in 2021 and I don’t know how much of it is true, but my guess at it is this: there were supposed to be two main writers on the series. Spellman was supposed to take Sam’s story, while the other guy wrote Bucky’s story. For whatever reason, the other guy quit before he finished, and didn’t give the writing team enough time to put things together.

From a story craft point of view, Bucky’s story in TFATWS reeks of first-draft-ism. It’s a scattered plot of events that don’t quite string together, and a self-contradictory characterisation that hasn’t yet been smoothed over (but was made a little more believable by Sebastian’s efforts). You can tell some central character themes had been planted in the first draft — the PTSD, the guilt, the messy way he’s trying to relearn how to interact with people (Yori, Sam and later the Wakandans), the struggle with breaking free of his past. These were all strong, interesting character beats for Bucky to work through, and it honestly could have been a good story. And I think that’s when the original writer bailed.

When Spellman picked up this draft, he was pressed for time, he hadn’t watched CATWS and he never thought he’d needed to know about Bucky’s story, so he reads TheMovieSpoiler summary of the movie and tries to piece the rest of the story together. But Bucky’s not his priority nor his interest. There’s already beats of the story that were planned and have to be there for IP reasons. So beyond what was already in the first draft as mentioned above, Bucky is made to be the fall guy to make the rest of the plot happen. Zemo’s release — well we can’t make Sam help break out the criminal that killed an African king so we’ll make Bucky do it, who cares if it makes no sense for his character. The counselling session — the show’s few moments of levity, doesn’t matter that it makes no sense but hey, forced homoeroticism is hilarious, isn’t it? The Wakandan three-way fight — I may be remembering this wrong but I think Skogland said it was one of the first scenes that she had planned for. That fight had to happen, and again Bucky was made to provoke the Wakandans to the point Seb had to step in and say, almost literally, “he would not fucking say that” to make them wind back the animosity between Bucky and Ayo. Sam’s suit — oh no we can’t have Sam asking for it himself that would be too egocentric, we also can’t have Wakandans offering because well, not like the plot actually made Sam a strong ally for Wakanda, so we get Bucky asking for Sam’s suit to be made minutes after he fixes his mistake of releasing Zemo. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense if it’s Bucky doing it, cos I really think by this stage Spellman didn’t give a shit about a character that wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility in the first place. It’s like when you’re doing group project and your teammate bails on you, you’re gonna do just enough to get that pass but you ain’t putting in the effort for a distinction cos just looking at the unfinished work is pissing you off. So then Bucky also becomes the token white male who pushes all the wrong buttons during the few token racism scenes cos we gotta make Walker have some redeemable qualities and he’s already a dick so we can’t make him racist too.

So instead of having a thoughtful story about a veteran trying to grapple with his guilt and PTSD and lack of agency and making some mistakes along the way, you get a weird disjointed plot of some guy…with some bad dreams…who randomly does things for no good personal reason…who gets made the butt of the joke for the stuff he’s experienced cos he’s got a metal arm and super soldier serum how hard could it have been he just needs to go and apologise for killing people while simultaneously having multiple poignant scenes portraying his lack of agency.

Every writer who tells you “a hero is only as interesting as the villain” just secretly wants to write a simpable villain. And when that writer isn’t very skilled, you get the disaster of TFATWS where a lot of effort is spent on making Zemo funny and personable, and Walker nuanced and sympathetic, instead of making either of the titular heroes funny or personable or nuanced or sympathetic. And yeah, I really don’t think Spellman ever cared enough about Bucky to want to make him sympathetic…or a hero. Remember when he said Bucky pulling open the van door was the first time Bucky has ever been a hero? Fuck right off with that.

[astridthevalkyrie]

Do you think the ck fandom downplays Miguel and Sam cheating on their partners? I don’t think it’s talked about enough, regardless of Whether sam was drinking

I may be a little biased because I HATE cheaters

i mean the fandom definitely doesn't downplay sam cheating lmao. at least not on tiktok or reddit. generally i think it's considered the worst thing she ever did. people hate her for that more than they hate the other characters for literally anything, including physical assault and attempted murder.

miguel maybe? the show and fandom both kinda excuse him for it because he pays the price during the school fight. mind you i think if sam had been the one who ended up paralyzed (fire fanfic idea btw) people would still probably hate her more than they hate miguel in canon.

the show downplays it by never really having sam or miguel apologize to tory and robby, but again. the reason they don't is because tory attempted to kill sam and robby came very close to actually killing miguel. like in juvie robby full didn't know whether miguel would make it or not and he doesn't seem to show remorse about it. did sam and miguel hurt them first? yeah. but tory and robby hurt them more, and i think it'd be hard for anyone, let alone teenagers with PTSD, to be the first to apologize in that scenario. by the time they're all on the same side, it doesn't seem like tory or robby want an apology either or care to have one (which. doylist explanation is just that the writers didn't care to have it).

frankly more than the cheating i wish they'd acknowledge how miguel helped to escalate the school fight for almost all its entirety. during robby and miguel's fight in s5, robby should've actually said the words "i'm sorry" instead of just "it was also the worst moment in my life" like bruh c'mon. why are you making this about you he got PARALYZED. and after that miguel should've apologized for escalating the fight when robby was trying to stop it. if the writers gave a damn about miguel and tory's relationship they should've apologized to each other too.

i think the actual words "i'm sorry" being spoken are also why almost everyone generally agrees sam and tory's apology scene is better. but notice how during that scene, tory says "it's not like you haven't tried to kiss my boyfriend before" but robby never says anything like that to miguel? sam will always hold the blame in the writers' and fandom's eyes for the kiss despite being hammered.

tory and miguel should've apologized to each other. sam and robby should've also apologized to each other. at some point robby should've learned that when the kiss happened, sam was reeling from learning that robby had lied to her (i have. thoughts about sam's feelings here but i won't get into them rn). sam's actions in s3 should've been more consistent. she went to the skate park everyday to look for robby and emails him all the time but never once tries to visit him in juvie? could make a watsonian explanation that daniel told her how angry he was and so she was afraid to see him or maybe she was mad about what happened to miguel but idkkk she does still email him. she clearly does still care for him. robby's actions are also weird i think him being this mad at daniel is just strange. way too many of robby's plot points are dependent on bad timing lmfao.

the writers didn't want to completely villainize sam but still needed to give robby a reason to join ck so that's why characters have to act super inconsistent. daniel not visiting robby in juvie even ONCE is insane considering he tells him he'll visit everyday. sure, robby was hanging up on his calls, but that shouldn't have stopped daniel. sam and daniel both had to be ooc to give robby a reason to fall into kreese's clutches. it's just weird.

i got very off topic but tldr it would've been nice to get proper apologies from miguel and sam for cheating. but it also would've been nice to get proper apologies from robby and tory for attempted murder 💀 the fandom doesn't downplay sam's cheating, but it does downplay miguel's, albeit for somewhat good reason

[scoobydoodean]

ok lol officially most annoying anon in the world (“mischaracterization” anon who just said they were abdicating from the convo 4 being high as balls which. is real and i should stop cuz atp im p sure the whole point of what ur getting at is going over my head lmfao) BUT in terms of what u said u were getting at in ur poll (like if the writers were cognizant of it or if it’s more a display of their own internal biases? again im stupid and high sorry if im once again missing the point by a mile)… BUT

I don’t have any strong inclinations either way but if I had to choose I’d have to say it’s more their own internal/personal bias’s coming out rather than something they were expecting the audience to pick up on and maybe think about. And the only reason I say this is because the identities/status of the people she killed were never really explicitly stated (at least from what i can immediately recall of the episodes) or brought up again.

like it’s notttt rlly brought up throughout the episode aside from just learning that those people are dead and she killed them? like idk nothing about it rlly inclines me to believe it was anything more than subconscious or latent beliefs in the writers because I do think we were supposed to empathize with her so it does make sense in that sort of lens that the writers chose “criminals” or whatever to kinda “soften the blow”, if u will, of her having killed people?

idk. i wanna know what what u think tho!!! like in terms of the poll u posted what would ur answer be?

I have mixed feelings about it, because I think the previous associations the writers have made with Sam and class (as well as Dean and class—for example—in 2.20 "What Is And What Should Never Be") make it very possible it's intentional. Sam justifies Amy's actions partly based on class, and Dean condemns her actions partly for the same reason—that she doesn't get to kill people and get away with it just because they're beneath her on the social ladder. It seems so obvious that one wants to assume it's very intentionally and purposefully done.

At the same time, you are right that the presentation of the story—told through the mouth of a cop and a few newspaper clippings—is heavily biased against the victims. The cop says the third victim deserved it because he had been in and out of jail for petty offenses, and Sam calls him a "low life". You have to work very hard to capture the story of the second victim in the newspaper article. You really can't capture the story on those pages without really sitting down to read, paused on the correct frames. A prominent part of the article is focusing on the victim being a heroin addict who had relapsed and was high when he went to the park. He was vulnerable and "in the wrong place at the wrong time". What gets me the most though is the prominent headline for the first victim: "Body found in park, victim known to police". What a gross way to poison the well. The barely visible subheading reads: "Man had been arrested multiple times, had outstanding warrant". (Again—these multiple arrests indicate petty offenses rather than felonies—probably another addict). When Amy makes an attempt on another victim in the park (only to be stopped by Sam), the target is drunk and fumbling with his keys, trying to get into his locked car. So in every case, the presentation not just from Amy and Sam and the cop but the episode as a whole attempts to bias the audience against the victims, trying to paint them as people who shouldn't be missed, who deserved what they got, and/or whose vulnerability was to blame for what happened to them.

Amy seems to target people who are high or drunk in the park at night because they're vulnerable and alone. I think some fans jump to frame her choice of targets as vigilantism that helps assuage her guilt, but none of those people deserved to die—and it really isn't vigilantism—she's simply following her own mother's shrewd M.O.—you target people who are alone and whose situational awareness is impeded by substances and whose deaths the cops won't put much effort into investigating because they don't see them as victims.

I also think this episode tries very hard to paint Dean in a negative light even prior to him killing Amy. Bobby insists Dean's concern over Sam's well-being isn't warranted when it is perfectly warranted. (We've seen Bobby brush off Dean's reasonable concerns before in 6.06). Then Sam pops off, cutting Dean off to throw a bunch of nonsense in his mouth, and conflating himself with Amy in an absolutely ridiculous way. Dean's voice is suppressed (which is also imo—a prominent feature of the Dabb era in general later in the series). On top of that, this certainly isn't the only episode where Dabb and Loflin's most overt messages try to bias the audience against Dean.

[jemgirl86]

I don't wanna defend thunderbolts but to be honest, the movie has a really complete team behind the scenes... the writers, the director... they're all better than cap's imo 🥴 I kinda see why it is well written, as people are saying... they're also saying the vfx/cgi/cinematography is really good but to be honest, I blame marvel for that because it's literally the same vfx/cgi department for all movies 🙄🙄 the cinematographer is different ok but not the other technical stuff

The thing is, nobody gave Brave New World a fair shake. People have been shitting on the mere idea of it since before it was even announced. From the moment Steve handed Sam that shield in Endgame, people have been saying that a Sam Captain America movie would be bad. Fans and critics alike never even gave themselves a chance to like it, because they were always sure they would not. They went into the theater expecting it to be bad, and then decided it was bad - not based on the merits, but based on some shit they felt, and have been feeling for years.

I don’t care who wrote or directed a movie, whether it was my favorite director or the man on the moon, I’m going to judge the movie based on what I actually saw.

And I’m sorry, but it is unreasonable to believe that any objective person walked out of Brave New World thinking it was poorly written or that it looked bad. Even if it’s not their favorite movie, it’s not a bad movie.

Look, y’all can make all the excuses you want, but people aren’t claiming Thunderbolts* is excellent simply because of the team behind it, and we all know it. They’re claiming that because it has some of society’s current favorite actors/actresses in it, and they don’t think it’ll be “woke.” 🙄 By that same token, Martin Scorsese could’ve written and directed Brave New World and half of the fans and critics still would’ve said it was bad, because they want it to have been bad, and we all know that too. In fact, it’s weird to pretend like people aren’t biased against Sam, and Anthony, and even the concept of the character in general and that actor in particular wielding the shield.

Listen, it actually does make a difference whether the general public wants a movie to succeed and be well received and when they don’t, and people want Thunderbolts* to be great, whether it actually is or not.

On the other hand, a lot of people wanted Brave New World to fail and be poorly received by the general public, whether it was actually good or not.

See the difference?

[msfbgraves]

It’s sad seeing all the upsurge of hate CK6 is getting along with Johnny but tbh, I feel like it’s deserved. Daniel deserved better, so much better. I’ll die standing on that hill. I’m still watching it since I’ve watched everything else KK and CK, but I doubt I’ll like it. I’m honestly here for whatever Silverusso crumbs I can gather, if any, since I don’t care about anyone else. Oh well. I’ve been brutally disappointed in other shows and book series before, so this’ll just be another brutal disappointment. I’m sorry I invested several years of my life into this series. Daniel will always be special to me, and I do love Terry, Robby, and Sam too. Johnny and Kreese can both suck it. Well, at least there’s fanfic.

The first two seasons were good. Flawed, very much through the male gaze, but good. And then the third season showed these men's true colours: no. We're not going to take any responsibility. Johnny's is not going to grow at all. We're going to show Robby the right way of aggression in Juvie. Robby almost bested Miguel, who is some sort of karate prodigy, and we've seen Daniel get the better of several grown thugs using Miyagi-Do, but we're going to make it that, without any character motivation, Robby can't hold his own in Juvie. Against untrained kids. Because he has to learn to strike first.

Why S3 still grabbed me was that they'd promised a dark side about Daniel and Ralph delivered an in canon, in character reason: Daniel has always had a murder switch. As early as his first All Valley. And then they brought it out in CK. It was always there and you don't have to assassinate his character for it. Daniel could kill a man, with enough motivation. Isn't that what we wanted, Cobra Kai? And then Terry. OMG, what brilliance. Thomas and Ralph wrote Silverusso together and I am sure that Thomas sat these boys down and said: "You can't write Terry for shit. You will take my notes. No, I didn't stutter. I am a better tv writer than you." But Johnny also deserves better. They've erased his entire arc. If they'd wanted to tell the story of a Johnny who'd literally had the growth choked out of him by Kreese, that too would have been a brilliant story. A Johnny who was so drawn to Daniel because he represented Johnny's own good side he could no longer access. A Daniel that would have told him: Kreese is a monster and he hurt you. And he'd know because he himself had been deeply hurt by being taught Cobra Kai. He wouldn't say that to Johnny because that would be too vulnerable. But the seeds were there, it's a story they could have told, and Johnny's moment to shine could have been realising how terrible Cobra Kai was by witnessing Daniel's reaction to Terry after having seen what a positive impact Daniel had had on Robby. But they didn't go there. Their message was always that there is nothing wrong with Johnny, he never needed to grow up and their character assassination of Daniel was not due to incompetence - they just don't get him - but design. They do get him. They hate him. And now they're coming for Miyagi who they hate even more. And Ralph can play so much without words, mitigate the damage, advocate for Daniel. Billy and Marty advocated for Johnny. But Pat cannot defend Miyagi anymore. They're coming for him to rescue their own ego. Simply because these little boys in a grown man's body cannot accept that Johnny Lawrence and what he stood for was wrong, and the fact that Johnny is an interesting and ultimately good character is that when it really mattered, when it really utterly mattered, he understood that his sensei was wrong, that Bobby was right (something we subconsciously see in him naming his son after him - CK didn't do everything wrong) and that Daniel's victory was deserved. "You're alright, LaRusso!"

That is what made Johnny compelling. That is the first thing these writers came for. Don't blame Johnny. His character assassination was even worse than Daniel's. And Billy fought it. We know he fought it. We have the gag reels to show for it. And now they got him, and they got Daniel, and they're coming for Miyagi because like Kreese, they could never grapple with the simple truth that Johnny learnt: bullying is wrong and another way is possible. They're so hurt by a film that showed them they were being assholes that they have to destroy it. Because they can't do what Johnny did. Admit they were wrong. They have to kill a whole franchise that brought comfort to literally millions of people, because they need to kill the message that kindness is possible. Poison it, rather than admit to themselves they are wrong, and maybe stop being an asshole? It's never too late. But no!! Daniel made me feel bad!!! He has to be destroyed!!!!

Honestly they would have made Dutch the ultimate reformed tough guy if the actor had returned. Probably made him unearth the evidence of Miyagi stealing that medal of honor by beating Daniel in a fight.

And they're not even trying to hide it anymore. They are openly attacking the legacy of a dead man. Pat's most beloved character. Pat wasn't Miyagi, he certainly wasn't faultless, but he gifted the world something and they're coming for him to soothe their egos. Billy and Ralph had the chance to walk away. Not the obligation, but the chance. They haven't, maybe they can't for contractual reasons. But Pat has no choice, no influence, and they're coming for his legacy.

That's straight up evil. And they're boasting about it in print!

[1d1195]

Bestieee hi!! It’s once again been forever 😭 genuinely hate that our pen pal letter have been basically every two weeks😭 missed you!! Before I start yapping I wanted to say…

HAPPY TEACHER APPRECIATION WEEK💕💕💕💙💙💙 my love you deserve so much love and admiration for being a teacher! It’s not an easy job to do so I’m so proud of you that you continue to guide these kids on their journey! I know you have a fear of being forgotten but Sam you’re literally a teacher!! Probably one of the more memorable jobs in my opinion! You have no idea how much you truly touch your students, I have no doubt that you’re probably a fan favorite with them with how kind carrying you are! Whether they may stay quiet or not about it, you positively impact those kids and I know you’ll continue to do so for your further students! Hope you know that all your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed💕

Anyways back to rambling away lol and honestly didn’t think grad prep was this hard! Like why do I have to do I have to send in a request for my diploma??? I’ll be having my ceremony the second week of June! Super close which is terrifying lol also evil that I have to take a final the day before!

I’ve grown very fond of Monica! just by seeing the attention to detail when it comes to giving feedback to the writers on here I think it’s very sweet!

Slayyy to the pedicure! Hope it was fun hanging out with your friend! Also hope that the dip powder helps with your nail strengthening goals!!

Having a cute math professor is a win! I’ll take anything this point lol also bestie have realized that he also has a distinct nose shape which just further proves that I have a thing for noses 😔(though I’m kinda into his things and just want to chomp on them since he wears shorts all the time😭) I know git can’t relate to the math part and I fear you are just so lucky to genuinely appreciate for what it is! I really do love for passion for it too!

Is it time for another cleaning?! I’m sure every time you do clean it probably looks spotless! And bestie I did see you posted twice in a week, crazy but good!(my reviews for them will obviously be in the second part🙂‍↕️) it’s okay to not being able to focus on reading like even the most frequent readers get a bit drained! Hopefully you’ll be able to pick up a book you’re excited about soon :)!

I know how May is typically such a stressful time and I hate that for you :( I’m also so sorry your bf and family have been not good either :( we’ve talked about how despite loving our family they can be ROUGH! Especially when you have to use your eldest daughter skills! I’m also so sorry you feel like you can’t talk to anyone one about it :( I honestly get that feeling too, it’s hard to always being the one to be there for others and when we need someone our minds trick us into thinking that it’s “not that serious” or that it’s just not something worth expressing. But it IS worth it because your feelings are valid! But the thoughts/inner voice that thinks otherwise is NOT real! Also it sounds soooo cliche but it’s okay not be to okay! Allow yourself to feel like no one expects to be perfect and you shouldn’t either! I hope you know that I would never judge you and that I hope that even if were literally across the country, you have someone who gets you and is willing to be there for you no matter what💕💕💕

I’m glad that your student isn’t stressing you out too much anymore! How exciting he’s almost done soon!! And that’s so great he got into college!! And you’re genuinely the sweetest getting him a shirt😭 also you have about a month left?? YOU GOT THIS!!! I’m hoping that you’ll be able to get that beach vacation! Even if it means that you have to teach summer school this year but girl in this economy I don’t blame you!!

Rookie art gallery night will forever haunt me because I fear if I was her the story would have taken a FARRRR angsty-er turn! I’m just insane and have issues 🤪 but I do love everything you write(and I love you duh lol) so in no way was I mad at you! And I just realized I love shit talking Traditional Harry! He’s actually fucking insane but I can’t help but to genuinely LOVE this man and realistically I would take that chance without second guessing!! Niall punching him would be so entertaining I fear I would enjoy this too much lol

Don’t be sorry for reporting too much! Literally I love to know whatever you’re willing to share even if it’s mundane things! Anyways how has these weeks been treating you? Have you’ve been able to do something fun for yourself or even a little treat?

I miss you loads and I hope that things get better my love 💕💕💕-💜

That's okay if it's two weeks or two months! I'm so happy to hear from you 💕 I've missed you tooo!!!!

Omg you're too kind 💕 Thank you so so much. I'm a lucky girl because I def have students who really love me and I'm very lucky

SECOND WEEK OF JUNE WILL BE HERE BEFORE YOU KNOW IT!!! SO EXCITING!!! I can't wait for you to have your break, final before graduation or not!!!! So happy for you bestie 💕

Yes, this is a Monica fan blog for SURE. She's the best 💕 It's our mini book club in the tags 💕

I love hanging out with my friend. She's super lowkey and easy to chat with. I love my pedicure, didn't make it to my manicure, but I've been filing my nails regularly so they're naturally doing okay right now. But I'll consider it for next time I do a manicure!

I WAS GOING TO ASK ABOUT HIS NOSE BUT I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO THINK I WAS EXTRA SINCE I ALWAYS ASK ABOUT IT!!!! But I love that for you. I have A Thing™️ for thighs. I 100% get it. I would love biting them. I just bought calculator earrings actually I'm so excited about them 😅 my students think I'm silly.

I feel like I'm always cleaning. YES. TWO IN ONE WEEK. But I really should have saved it because this weekend is going to offer 0 minutes of writing. But alas. I'm excited to read your review 💕

I'm hoping to have a new baseball bf by the end of the weekend as the Windy City series is FINALLY coming out with the last book in a couple weeks which means I won't have to wait forever to enjoy the last bit. I've been DYING to read this one!

I'm doing okay overall. It's just I have my moments and I'm overwhelmed and trying to do to many things. My brain looks like Spongebob when he threw out his name. It's exhausting.

You are genuinely the best kind of person 💕💕

Just about a month!! The kids have a countdown on the whiteboard and I think it's 34 days if I remember correctly. It's less for my favorite one though 😅 I'm usually good about not crying in front of students but I always write my faves a special little note for graduation and idk if I'll be able to handle it 😅

Shit talking Traditional Harry is a vibe. Such a control freak and insane 🤭I think it's good you remind me that the Harry's I write in the right light would be considered stalkers and serial killers. Like they're so weird, tbh. It keeps me grounded. (I'd still fall for it too, but) 💕

I think May is just destined to kill me slowly from the inside out. We'll see what the weekend brings. I'm spending it on a bachelorette trip that I'm really not looking forward to tbh. It might be relaxing, maybe but it's with people I went to high school with and I know we're all adults now but "the ax forgets and the tree remembers" and all that jazz. So. I also just have too much to do this month to be spending it doing nothing but spending $$$ AND the weather is NOT looking so good which is going to add a layer of stress to everyone I fear. Little treats? Do you mean the excessive amounts of coffee I buy for myself to make me feel something? Yes. I've been treating myself a lot 💕

ANYWAY. I hope you're doing well 💕 What are you learning in math rn? Is your fam still good? Anything fun planned in the next few weeks? LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! 💕

xoxo

[whatislovevavy]

WC: 4.4k

Synopsis: An exploration of why Bucky decided to cut his hair

AN: This has been in my Google Drive for about two years and finally got around/had the motivation to finish this. This piece was technically my first ever piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. My writing mostly pertains to Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick so this was a nice little brain break from that. I thought I'd include the original author's note I put together, having never written fanfiction at the time, just for nostalgic sake and if anyone wants to know just how new to this I was lol. Also this divider is not mine and I was unable to tag the account that made it since it was deleted. This work will be posted on my side blog @sophs-writing-nook.

Original Author’s Note: Hello everyone :) This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written and I really hope you guys like it because I’m a bit nervous about it. I’ve had this idea since I saw the first promotions for the Falcon and Winter Soldier series and didn't really do anything about it for a variety of reasons. I haven’t seen a lot of fics exploring this concept so I decided to write this on a camping trip in my notes app where I didn’t have reception so I apologize if there is bad grammar, spelling errors, etc. If there happens to be a similarity to another fic, it is purely coincidence and I don’t intend to plagiarize anyone. Please let me know if it does appear I have. I have a lot of respect for fanfic writers and don’t want to disrespect anyone and steal anyone’s work unintentionally. 

Warnings: Blood, Trauma (PTSD), sadness with some bittersweet moments sprinkled in, supportive Sam because that’s a warning in itself. 

None of these characters are mine. Read at your own discretion.

Bucky had tried finding a routine after coming back: Get up by 7, go on a run make breakfast, try to keep in touch with his friends he had made since coming back, try a new recipe, maybe try online dating, catch up on what he missed the past 70 years, try to forgive himself for all the atrocities he didn't have a choice in committing, make dinner, shower, and sleep by 9.

That's what his therapist, Darlene, told him to do at least.

She wanted him to write in a journal the names of the people and families he wanted to make amends with, things he wanted to explore and try out, and good things he remembered before he was the Winter Soldier.

Darlene had kept encouraging him to keep referring to the Winter Soldier as if he were his own separate person, and not affiliated with James Buchanan Barnes.

It helped a bit with passing the blame, but not by much. He, naturally, chose the last remnant of Steve he had- his journal- to hold these thoughts.

Steve saw the best in him when he couldn't. 

He made an effort to try and forgive himself for everything he did, for Steve’s sake. 

Why Steve had left him, he didn't fully understand. 

It didn't make the "forgiving himself" part any easier. 

If his lifelong friend, who had been with him through thick and thin, decided to leave him now in this time of his broken, mutilated life, what did that say about him? 

Was he wrong about him? 

Did he truly believe he was worth being fixed and forgiven? 

There were small moments of hope that he could be fixed, but they were few and far inbetween.

His nightmares had gotten worse.

If Darlene would ask, he’d tell her, “no, they haven't", "they've stopped", or "I haven't had one for a while.” Bullshit excuses that anybody who saw the dark circles under his eyes wouldn't believe. Darlene knew he was lying and would try to reassure him that their space was safe and it would help him to get his nightmares out in the open.

He didn't think so.

This woman didn't know what it was like to have the same horrific scenarios play out in his mind every time he went to sleep. 

To see himself killing innocent people like he was in the backseat of his mind. 

The blood. 

Their faces, some close friends and others strangers. 

Their pleas and calls for mercy were what always broke him. 

He was forced again and again to witness himself taking their lives and couldn't do anything to stop himself. Forced to use any part of himself for Hydra.

Nothing was spared.

He felt unforgivable, these nightmares were a sign of the Winter Soldier still being in his head, buried and ready if Hydra got their hands on him again. 

He was tired of fighting and worrying, only wanting lasting peace and a full night's rest.

He had started renting an apartment in downtown Brooklyn near where his family had lived during the 40's. It was near the church cemetery his mother, father and sister, Rebecca, were buried. They were placed in the row closest to the street behind the church his family frequented during his youth. 

His parents had passed from old age when he was imprisoned by Hydra. 

A small part of him was thankful for that. 

They never had to learn that their son had done such horrible things.

They lived with the good memories of him.

His sister had passed during the time half the population was gone, the Blip people called it, from Alzheimer's. He visited her once before, but she was in the late stages, and was a shell of who he remembered growing up. 

His little sister Rebecca, whom he protected, opened jars for, teased, and made sure the boys she liked would be good to her, was now unable to remember him. He was told she passed peacefully in her sleep a few months after he disappeared.

Darlene thought that buying an apartment so close to his family's resting place might be overwhelming for him, but he wanted to be close to them and the memories he had.

The apartment consisted of a basic floor plan; kitchen, bathroom with a shower and bath, living room, bedroom, closet. However, he only used the kitchen, bathroom, and living room.

He didn't have many things when he moved in, and didn't feel he needed all the space allotted to him.

He had invested in a modest tv set, a microwave, blender, and a camping mat, courtesy of Sam's encouragement. 

He had tried sleeping on a mattress, but he felt that he was going to sink through into the floor with how soft and marshmallow-like it felt. He always slept on the floor with a few blankets and sheets. 

Sam had the same experience when he came back from Afghanistan.

Sam had tried to help him adjust to things since coming back, and had done a lot for him, including to help him find his apartment and encourage him to try new things.

There were times he had trouble getting out of his headspace to return Sam's calls and initiate with his friend. Darlene had been saying that for a person who allegedly had no one left, he seemed to have a safety net in Sam. She pushed him to call someone other than her and initiate with him. It was another case where he felt she didn't fully understand how difficult it was for him to build relationships, and "get his nightmares out in the open" since coming back.

He had gotten home late that night from the store, buying ingredients to make a recipe Darlene recommended: chicken tikka masala, he thought she called it.

He was amazed at the amount of change he had missed, especially from a grocery store. His family would boil everything with what minimal spices were available, other than the usual salt and pepper. He found solace in trying new recipes and exposing himself to the technological wonders of the 21st century, including learning how to use a DVD player and the iPhone he recently bought. He tried online dating but found it was too overwhelming and made him feel like a fish out of water. Asking people on dates and seeking relationships came easily to him when he was younger before the war, but everything felt so different now. 

He felt so different and foreign to himself. His arm. His mind. He felt like a shell of the person he was before the Winter Soldier.

His groceries were unloaded into the fridge and he started to prepare his dinner. He placed a bowl on the counter for mixing chicken marinade and marinating the soon to be cooked slices of chicken. The chicken slices were placed into a pan on a low heat to begin cooking. They wouldn't take long since they only had to cook halfway through initially. He gathered the spices for the marinade.

The soft smells of turmeric, ginger, cumin, and garam masala reminded him of the evenings he spent helping his mother cook during the summer. His mother would rummage together some cash every once in a while to buy a few sachets of spices from the local grocery. It was an indulgence she took part in that, compared to now, seemed simple and less of an everyday luxury. 

Sure, the spices she would bring home were more mild and less "exotic" than what he had available to him now, but it was the familiar memory of being taught to cook and the soft smells of his mother's cooking.

His conscience told him to use the spices sparingly despite himself being confronted with a substantially sized grocery aisle complete with spices from almost every corner of the world a mere few hours ago.

Maybe it was his upbringing during the Great Depression and watching his parents worry about where the next paycheck would come from.

Or maybe it was his instinct telling him this small semblance of peace he had found in his Brooklyn apartment would be snatched away, and that he needed to savor every new experience in stride. 

Because if he let himself enjoy them too much, it would make the snatching that much more painful.

He couldn't decide.

He finished the marinade and would have to wait an hour or two to start the sauce and cook the chicken. He placed it in the fridge and made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

The warm water felt nice on his warped, scarred flesh around his arm on his left side. The area would often become sore and plagued by knots. Sam recommended warm showers, aloe vera, a massage and spa place nearby, and Advil. The thought of people he didn't know touching his scarred flesh made him feel nervous, so the rest of his suggestions were his go to. 

His scar tissue and long hair were the last physical mark of Hydra on him. 

He was thankful he didn't have to see the red star that had branded him for so many years when he looked in the mirror anymore, since leaving Wakanda.

But there was still his hair.

His hair that had blood, dirt and grime stained into it for his 70 years of service. No matter how many times he showered, he knew the blood would never leave his hair or his hands. His mind would drift through waves of hopelessness in quiet moments like these more often than not.

He dried himself off with a soft towel, changed into a pair of boxers, and began to gingerly apply aloe vera to the junction where his arm met his shoulder. His shoulder was still a bit sensitive after all these years despite the enhanced healing from the serum. Shuri theorized it was because the metal cavity of his arm continuously tore through the underlying tissue. She was able to remove the bits and pieces of metal embedded in his shoulder. His arm was in the healing process, but it would take a while after years of damage even with the serum. After he finished rubbing in the aloe vera, He put on a dark t-shirt and made his way back into the kitchen to finish the sauce.

He carefully prepared the onions, garlic, and spices for the sauce the way his mother taught him to. 

He couldn't help but think about how his parents and sister would have loved to have tried this recipe with him.

He could almost hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to "cut the onions a bit smaller" or "don't let the garlic and onions burn in the pan".

Rebecca's eagerness to try the sauce prematurely with a perfected pout and whines of protest when denied so.

His father's quiet yet strong presence at the kitchen table reading the daily paper and soft scolding of his sister.

Steve drawing in his journal at the dinner table on evenings when Sarah Rogers would be working late at the hospital.

The radio softly playing in the background as a soothing ambiance.

The kitchen window opened to let the aroma of the Barnes’ family dinner wander through the back alley of the apartment building, and let in the sounds of the neighbors' soft conversations, clothes oscillating in the wind on the clothes line, and car engines humming as people made their way home at dusk.

All qualities of his family's evening routine and upbringing he longed for, but took for granted in his youth.

The stark smell of overcooked onions brought him back to the task at hand, pulling him from his thoughts but leaving his buildup of emotions he felt were about to rupture. He added the heavy cream, spices, brown sugar, and let them stir with the marinated onions and garlic. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. Letting the sauce thicken, he turned the pan onto a low heat, and added the marinated chicken to finish cooking. 

He placed the spatula down on the counter top with a shaky hand, placing his hands on the counter to support himself as he let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.

God, he wished they were here with him. Steve. His mom. His dad. Rebecca.

He wished he had somebody who knew him before the Winter Soldier that could help him to pick up the broken pieces of himself and to become the person he was again.

He wished he could have said goodbye to his parents, Rebecca, and that Steve hadn't left him.

He wished he could've held his parents one last time before they passed, met the man that Rebecca fell in love with and had a family with, and fought harder for Steve to stay with him and help pick up the pieces.

All things that he couldn't do anything about now.

He wiped his tears away and returned to stirring his chicken masala. Thoughts of his family blending with the thoughts of his recipe like the spices and heavy cream in his pan as a cope. Darlene had mentioned that the recipe goes best with garlic buttered rice or naan, so he had bought ingredients for both, but opted for the naan. He turned on the oven, placed some naan from the store on a baking sheet, and into the oven before returning to stirring the contents of the pan. 

He remembered Sam wanted to come over and check in on how he was settling into his apartment, sometime the next day. Maybe he would want to try some of his dish. 

"Initiate, take small steps to initiate". This counted as initiating, right? He hoped so.

His chicken masala was well blended and deemed done. His naan close behind. He placed a bowl and plate on the counter, served up his recipe and naan, and sat down at his two person dinner table, and prepared to eat. Darlene had told him that making a makeshift taco with the naan tasted good if he opted to not make the garlic butter rice. He took his first bite and let himself experience each incredible flavor. 

He would definitely be making this recipe again.

Maybe he could make a batch for Sam. 

It would be a small way to return the favor.

He made his way through his dinner, and would start heading to bed soon. It was almost 9 anyway. Shuri told him that consistent good sleep would also help him heal mentally along with his therapy and the treatment she provided.

He made a mental note to try making the garlic butter rice, thank Darlene for the recipe, and ask her if she had any more favorite recipes he should try during his next session.

He brought his dishes to the sink, moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and shed himself of his shirt. Sleeping shirtless was normal for him both during the war and after getting the serum, finding that he would warm up easily and end up tossing and turning in the night. 

His escalated body heat helped him to survive the frigid Siberian winters during his imprisonment, but not the mild to warm summer nights in Brooklyn.

Laying on the hardwood floor with the lights out left him with his thoughts. He remembered the nights he and Steve spent laying on couch cushions on the living room floor of his parents apartment. 

The nights he and his sister would read The Hobbit under the covers of his bed when they were younger, while their parents thought they were sleeping. 

He liked to sleep with the TV on at a low volume and the window opened so he wouldn't be lost in his thoughts for too long. 

He didn't have as much trouble falling asleep as before. Darlene told him to take deep breaths while resting his eyes and had gotten better at it since seeing her. 

Breathe in for 5 seconds, exhale for 10, and repeat till he felt calm enough to drift to sleep.

He steadily awoke hours later, feeling warm and groggy.

 It was quiet. 

The TV was off and the window was shut. 

He was none the wiser in his hindered state of being as he lifted himself off of the floor and trudged to the bathroom, the soft sound of his bare feet pattering on the wood floor like rain drops on a window, encompassing his apartment in a soft echo.

He turned on the soft bathroom light and twisted the cold faucet on, leaned down and scooped cold water in his hand, and poured it on his face. Supporting himself by his forearms, he closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of cold on his face and cascading down his neck. 

The water felt warmer now and had a distinct iron smell to it.

He opened his eyes and was met with his hands drenched in blood. Blood flowing into the sink from the tap. 

He slowly turned to meet his reflection. Met with the cold, dark, blank eyes of the Winter Soldier. The blood stained leather vest, black muzzle, and the long brunette hair stained black from blood falling over his face. 

He was there with him, as clear as day. 

He felt a stark and deep rooted sense of fear awaken and burrow itself in his chest as he quickly retreated from the sink, pressing himself against the opposing wall. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, he felt the walls of the bathroom constricting him.

The Winter Soldier reached out his metal arm, severing the separation between the mirror and his bathroom, and brought it down onto the counter top with a resounding crack, small remnants of the cheap countertop tumbling to the floor. He lunged for the door and twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperately, he tried to break down the door, knuckles bleeding and eyes teary. He could feel the Winter Soldier getting closer to him and was too terrified to turn back and face him. He broke through the door with a splitting crack, splinters in his hands. Awaiting on the other side was a long dimly lit corridor lined with bars and cold concrete walls. 

His heart stopped. 

He knew this corridor. 

He would always know this corridor. 

He didn't want to go forward, but he had no choice. Breaking into a sprint, not looking back and praying he didn't trip over himself, he felt a sudden, strong grip on his leg, pulling him backwards. Landing on the hard concrete with a groan and turning himself to face his captor: Two dark, army clad figures awaited him. He shuffled away from them as fast as he could but couldn't get to his feet fast enough to avoid being dragged to by his feet towards the bathroom. His screams echoing off the walls, and hands burning from friction against the cement floor at his attempts to escape their grasp.

He couldn't believe what was happening, he thought he was free from Hydra. 

Free from these corridors. 

Free from the chair.

He felt his nails fruitlessly catching on the small ridges of the cement floor as he was mercilessly dragged. The hallway enclosed in darkness behind him and the bathroom light ahead of him, serving as a beacon of pain and suffering. 

He was left on the bathroom floor, shaking and crying, accentuated by the sound of the slamming of a steel door. His teary eyes searched for the figures but found none. Instead, his eyes landed on the dull gleam of the worn metal frame in his bathtub, tinged with small droplets of blood, smoothed down edges, and strained leather straps.

If he wasn't sobbing before, he was now. He felt so trapped, his heart beating out of his chest; his lungs made of tin, unable to expand.

His shaking frame was folded on the floor by the bathroom door. A few moments of silence flooded by the drops of his sink tap and his attempts to catch his breath. 

Abruptly, a handful of his hair was grabbed, his body dragged to the chair as he let out seethes of pain and cries. 

He was held down in the chair as he was strapped in by faceless, dark army figures. Soft whispers and murmurs of pleas for mercy and forgiveness settled around him, originating from every vent and faucet in his bathroom, nestled their way to his ears. 

They grew louder and droned out the sound of leather going through buckles and the mechanical "wrrrrr" of the head plates assembling towards the top of the chair. 

He struggled and screamed, but it was no use. 

Trapped in the chair, no chance of escape; Limited by his mind and not his body. 

He anxiously waited and dreaded for the excruciating pain of electricity to course through his body, to hear the words Hydra spent so much time and care to drill into his mind.

But both never came.

He awoke with a startle, eyes wide, body and blanket soaked with sweat, lungs gasping for breath. 

His window open, letting in his neighbors everyday routine squeeze into his apartment. 

The TV on a low volume, playing auctions for nic-nacs and heirlooms people didn't find use for. All drowned out by his racing thoughts and attempts at breathing.

The blanket pooled around his waist as he shifted to lean against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing. 

He needed his hair gone. 

Like a wounded animal, he made his way to the bathroom with shaky breaths and uneasy strides. He flipped the bathroom light on, feverishly opening and closing drawers to find what he needed most.

A pair of scissors.

A raspy sigh left his lips as his hands met the plastic frame of the twin bladed tool.

His eyes shifted from his reflection to his hold on the scissors. 

Carefully, he brought his metal hand to his hair, extending one of his many locks of hair.

His eyes drifted from the lock of hair to the metal blades that almost fully encased it. 

Snip.

He watched as the lock frayed till it was severed completely, feeling the freed lock in his hand and watching it fall to the counter.

A sigh of relief left his lips as tears pricked his eyes as he met his reflection in the mirror. 

Snip.

Snip.

Snip. 

His tears were flowing fully down his cheeks as almost the entirety of his left side was covered in frayed, unevenly cut hair. 

He gingerly ran his flesh hand along his head, relishing in the short tufts of hair, and began repeating the same frenzied cutting on the other side of his head, and towards the back

If the tears weren’t flowing before, they were now. 

He placed the scissors onto the hair ridden counter with a clang, keeping his relieved gaze on himself, feeling his chest wrack with sobs, body slowly crumbling against the sink and to the floor.

He had never felt such relief in his life. 

His hands ran over the chopped hair, savoring the uneven patched of hair, his head laying back to rest against the wood cabinet below his sink,  eyes fluttering shut.

Muffled knocks softly rose his mind from the depths of sleep. 

He let his eyes adjust to the bathroom light, feeling his neck ache from how he slept against the drawers of the cabinet. 

Sam. 

He rose up to his feet with a groan, trudging to his front door.

His front door opened with a click.

“Hey, man-woah.”

He rose his eyes to meet Sam’s wide ones, giving him a small smile, “Hi, Sam.”

Sam swallowed.

“Late night hack job, huh?”

He gave Sam a tight-lipped smile, nodding. 

Sam’s lip quirked. 

“I, um, I made something for you if you’d like to try it.”

Sam watched as he rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand.

He moved from the door, leaving it open for Sam to come in.

Sam carefully stepped into his apartment, taking in the rumple of blankets on the livingroom floor. 

“It’s chicken tikka masala, my therapist recommended it.”

Sam took the plastic container he held out for him.

“Thanks for this…We should go get you a haircut. You can’t be walking around Brooklyn looking like you had a blender cut your hair.”

His lip quirked, nodding.

After a few minutes, he met him back at the front door in jeans, a t-shirt, and his bomber jacket, and glove.

“Ready to go?”

He wordlessly nodded, closing, and locking the door behind them. 

—

“Alright, what do you think?” 

The hairdresser adjusted his chair so he could see himself fully in the mirror. 

He could feel his eyes glaze over.

His previously poorly chopped locks were no where to be found, replaced by almost buzzed cut hair with a bit of length towards the top. Barely enough for anyone to get a good grip in.

“It’s perfect, thank you Melissa,” he muttered to the woman that gave him a kind smile in return. 

He tried to hand the man at the cashier station some cash, but Sam interjected with his card.

He looked at Sam with slight bewilderment.

“You’ll cover me next time.”

His lip quirked, as Sam nudged his shoulder as they made their way to the exit.

He stopped in front of a window for a store on the way back to his apartment, seeing his reflection in the storefront.

And for once, he didn’t have a deeprooted distaste or fear of what he saw. 

It almost made him cry.

He needed this.

His long hair gone. The last remnant of his time in Siberia, of the shackles that held his mind down under water like an anchor, gone. 

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Sam stopped a few paces ahead of him.

“You wanna stop in?”

Sam’s voice broke him from his trance.

He gave Sam a small smile.

“No, just taking it all in.”

Sam gave him a comforting smile as he caught up with him.

They continued on to his apartment to give Sam some of his chicken tikka masala, running his hand through his hair periodically with a smile on his face. 

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Jump the Shark

Welcome to “Adam is the New Dawn Summers: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e19: Jump the Shark

The boys answer a call on their dad’s old cell phone, and the caller claims to be John’s son. FRAUGHT. They go to meet him, Sam ready to see what’s what, Dean *certain* that this is some monster laying a trap. But all signs point to Adam really being John’s son and therefore the boys’ younger half brother. Adam’s mother has disappeared, and while Sam and Dean try to find out what happened to her, the three brothers have all manner of moments of strife and snipe and hurt and grump. (Dean is especially grump.) Turns out, whoops, that Adam IS a monster (a ghoul) laying a trap, but the ghoul has taken the form of the real Adam, who is very dead but was also very much Sam and Dean’s brother. Ooof.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Lor:

oh fuck off, John

jeez, Dean

Mace:

sammy brushing his teeth is hot don't ask me why i don’t make the rules

Lor:

"but I'm hungry now" me and Dean are the saaaaame person

LOL it is adorable

Mace:

HA

Lor:

omg Sam also has mouthwash

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

our poor boys

Mace:

yeah

dean is PISSED

Lor:

yep

and underneath his anger iceburg is a whoooole lot of hurt

Mace:

yeah

don't just throw the silverware on the floor, Dean, you’re better than that

Lor:

right?

I will forgive him a lot right now, but still

Mace:

poor Adam

Lor:

yeah

"a car fell on him" DEAN

Mace:

“a car fell on him”

you’re being a turd

Lor, slap him upside real quick

Lor:

yep. we've crossed over into "no pie for you"

nah he enjoys that. and then I get all....

Mace:

yeah right, you would never

Lor:

yeah, I wouldn't. not enough that he'd feel it

Mace:

i meant deprive him of pie

Lor:

oh that.

I meeeean. maybe for a minute or two

what diner has real silver on the table?

Mace:

Lor. we just watched Dean switch them out and throw the diner’s stuff on the floor

get your head in the game

Lor:

oh yeah! I was... distracted

oh Dean, honey

Mace:

oh man, Dean. poor thing.

 his head is near asploding

Lor:

yep

and his heart

Mace:

admit it, Dean, your dad was a DICK

Lor:

as if he could hate John more AND dammit he'd thought the man had run out of ways to hurt him

YEP

oh DEAN. he needs a hug. maybe he should pray to Cas

Mace:

that’s the problem - i don’t think he does hate john and he really needs to

Lor:

well not enough anyway

Mace:

he hates himself for not being a better son instead of blaming john for being a shit father

Lor:

sloppy, John, getting your pic in the paper. terrible hunter

oooof YEP

Mace:

so this is going right into the I Must Be a Shitty Son because He Loved This Kid More

Lor:

ooooof

see, he needs pie

lololol Dean

stop throwing scissors!

Mace:

omg the spazzing

Lor:

(course, maybe he's doing it on purpose to protect Sammy from having to go down there)

Mace:

(maybe)

Lor:

(I can never decide which I think it is)

Mace:

EWEWEW

Lor:

ick

oooo you clean that gun, Dean, you clean it good

Mace:

HA

Lor:

I mean. Dean is

just not for a JOB

Mace:

yeah

oh Sam

always steps up with the logic

Jesus, Dean, sitting as far away as he can

Lor:

"nobody just says okay"

YEP

Mace:

Dean. It’s not HIS fault.

Lor:

nope

Dean is SUCH a whirl of emotions

Lor:

omg both of them yelling "no" at little brother

Mace:

YES

“welcome to the family”

AHAHAHA

poor Sammy

Lor:

poor Sammy. welcome to being the middle kid, Sam

Mace:

Somehow he’s always been the middle kid

Lor:

HA!

YES

(do you remember how this goes?)

Mace:

(i do not)

Lor:

(oh HO. very good, then)

Mace:

(well, I mean, Adam ends up as Michael, if that’s what you mean)

Lor:

(that is not what I mean)

Mace:

I love that little bracelet on Sam’s wrist

Lor:

it COULD have been over if the writers hadn't dropped the ball all the way to the center  of the earth at the end

YES

Mace:

YUP

Lor:

nnnnnggggg Dean crouching by the car

Mace:

is he wearing…italian boots?

Lor:

he is wearing SOME kind of very special boots that he did NOT buy at Macy's, that's for sure

pets him

this is why you never park over top of shit

Mace:

Ha!

Lor:

lol poor Bobby. "MORE of you snot nosed Winchesters to look after? I'm gonna resurrect your son of bitch father so I can shoot him myself"

Mace:

AHAHAHA YES

oh WAIT I THINK I REMEMBER NOW WHAT HAPPENS

OOOOOO

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Dean is STRUGGLING with stuff

Lor:

he REALLY is

Mace:

wants to hate the kid but also wants to protect him

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

Big Brother pull is strong with this one

Lor:

yep

oh Sam

Mace:

“i think it’s too late for us"

oh DEAN WINCHESTER

they are beautiful boys, but DAMN they are messed up

Lor:

they REALLY are

"well then I'll look again"

Mace:

stubborn

Lor:

his little hufflepuff heart can't handle not caretaking his little brother

Mace:

ha!

“sloppy Joe” DEAN WINCHESTER NO

Lor:

lol I love that he makes his quips when there's no one to hear them though

Mace:

I prefer when he says “son of a bitch"

Lor:

ditto

oooof Dean

Mace:

yeah

oh he’s got his thinking cap on

Lor:

lol

EW

Mace:

agreed

EWEWEW

STOP CUTTING MY STRINGBEAN

Lor:

RIGHT?

ooof Dean you can stop now

Mace:

Jesus, Dean.

Lor:

you probably wanna raise them higher than that too Sam

Mace:

yeah

Lor:

"Adam's in a better place" not for looooong

Mace:

i don’t remember how he comes back

is it because dean says no to michael?

Lor:

the angels bring him back when Dean says no, yeah

Mace:

stop insulting sammy, dean

Lor:

"you take it any way you want" ooooooof

The Fraught Brothers Ride Again

Mace:

cripes, boys

[tigerlilynoh]

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

Thank you @ambersock for the nudge/inspiration to reflect on things I'm really proud of.

Job & Family This one is definitely top of my list because it’s dear to my heart in so many ways.  I spent 26 months writing this 600k beast.  It has several of my favorite original characters and fight scenes.  I love that act one starts pretty straightforward, then it jumps the rails with the second act (and I love the inherent trust of any reader who is willing to hang on).  The story gave me so much room to world build across multiple planes and dive into the politics and culture of Hell in particular. It’s simply the sandbox I could play in forever.

Beyond the End, There is a Season I often describe this fic as “Job & Family was several seasons of a tv show.  Beyond the End is a movie.”  My goal with the fic was to really dig into pacing and tension to play with suspense.  The main inspiration were 28 Days Later and A Quiet Place— with the added priority of a really mess interpersonal dynamic (post-canonical-betrayal Sam and Ruby).  It’s like 100k with the first 80% being almost entirely just Sam and Ruby having to work together.  Both in that character/relationship study and in individual moments, it lingers in a way I love.  I’m so proud of how it turned out.

Time for a Lesson My version of a dark fic.  It was for a dark fic bang and part of my challenged to myself was not relying on sexual violence to do the heavy lifting of danger.  I wanted to make the most unnerving, menacing Demon!Dean I could, one that would inevitably flay the canonical one.  Sam’s character arc in this one is something I’m very pleased with.  And I delight in this dark fic’s inspiration being Treason by the Book (a historical account of a failed incitement to treason, and specifically the poor bastard who got a target on his back because someone tried to incite him).

Cybernatural I don’t blame anyone for not giving this one a chance; it’s an odd one, but it has a lot of things that I’m so happy with.  The inspiration was, “If I could write a spn spinoff, what would the first season look like?”  This was my attempt at noir (it’s actually neo noir because it’s set in the future with some minor sci-fi tech), a genre that I actually didn't really like prior to writing this, but I studied it as part of the challenge to myself and grew to really appreciate its style.  It was also my attempt at writing an old version of Sam, particularly one struggling with passing the torch and his own insecurities.  I dig its case fic/noir vibe, and I cackled wildly at making readers read through a sex scene involving elderly people… because I often think of myself as your antagonist, here to put you where you never thought you’d be.

The Uncomfortable Adventures of Sam in Law School (WIP) Despite the fact that it is incomplete, this is another instance of world building that I’m so deeply proud of.  Stanford-era Sam getting caught up in the magic subculture of the San Francisco Bay Area.  Magical realism, drugs, lots of sex, Sam having anxiety and major illness, a chapter that delves into hunter culture and Sam’s relationship with his dad and Dean— that chapter is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. It's a piece that's so special to me that what holds me back most from completing it is fear of letting it down, but I hold out hope that with time and renewed practice (and maybe a couple vacations or ADHD medication to reboot me) I'll grow braver. Time will tell.

[songbirdtana]

Glee (for the send me a show ask)

The first character I fell in love with:

That’s definitely a tie between Brittany and Santana! I still remember it pretty well - I had just joined tumblr in April 2011 and had started to see Brittana gifs everywhere (it was after Sexy but before Rumours I think) I immediately became obsessed with knowing who these adorable cheerleaders were (should have realised then and there I was gay lmao), started watching the show for them and ended up being consumed by all of it💕

The character who is my ‘baby’:

When I tell you that I will put my life on the line for Brittany S Pierce, that is a cold hard fact😌

I don’t think Brittany gets the recognition and love she truly deserves by the wider fandom and anyone who sees her as just the ‘dumb blonde’…it will be an on site fight where I will in fact win

The character who I do not understand:

Basically any of the Glee project characters (all except the powerhouse that is Unique/Alex🙌🏻) Like can someone honestly tell me that if Rory was completely removed from the plot of Season three, that anything would significantly change?? lmao Also I don’t remember much of season 4 (forced amnesia to forget it lmao) but Ryder/Blake can choke😌

I just don’t understand why they did all that and I’m only thankful for it because it brought us the talents of Alex Newall

The character that I think the show ruined:

Most of them?😅 like honestly, I think the show suffered a bit from ‘too many characters’ syndrome so there were characters who got forgotten about, got reduced to one stereotypical trait, or just got screwed over because the writers didn’t know what to do with them

One I think could have been so much more is Quinn. She was a pivotal part of season 1 and then as soon as she had her baby it was like the writers were at a loss, and by season 3 were throwing the most batshit, yet short lived, stories at her to see what would stick?? I think if they really stuck with one thing and had a long term vision for her, she could have continued to be a major player for the whole series

The most attractive male and female character:

I’m gonna say Santana (almost tied with Brittany, but I see myself in her too much so it gets weird for me lmao) because…it’s Santana, duh😌 she is just…if I could place blame on my lesbianism anywhere, it would be on Santana Lopez’s shoulders lmao

And I may be a lesbian but I still know that if there’s a chance I wasn’t, Sam Evans could get it lmao

The character death that was the worst for me:

I don’t wanna say too much because it was also a real life death, but obviously the Quarterback episode about Finn is still a really difficult watch😢

The character that is the most like me:

Oh Brittany 100%🥰 I’ve always seen myself in her in many ways. Maybe it’s fact we share the neurodivergence idk lmao

I just really relate to a majority of Brittany’s personality traits, so it makes her even more of a special character to me💕

The character I think the writer(s) love:

Like Santana said in season 3, episode 4: “this year it’s going to be the Blaine and Rachel show”👀 You cannot convince me that those two weren’t the writers golden children

The character that I just want to be happy:

I mean, as a Brittana supporter before anything, I have to say all I want is for Brittany and Santana to be the happiest married couple🥰 I want them to still be married, with their own home (maybe with a kid or two as well) and completely smashing it in their respective careers💕

My four favourite characters, past or present:

Brittany, Santana, Kurt, and Mercedes💕 (shoutout to Quinn, Unique, and Sam though, I love them a lot too🥰)

My four least favourite characters, past or present:

Blaine, Puck, Will, and Artie I guess? Purely just because I either never cared for any of their storylines or they actively started to grate on me as the show went on😌

[autisticandroids]

watched 1x14 nightmare today. so there's this moment in that ep that everybody talks about, at the end. this one:

SAM: Well I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad. DEAN: (Looking astounded...and pleased) Well I never thought I'd hear you say that. SAM: Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. I little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him. DEAN: (Turning back to look at Max's house) All things considered.

it's a moment people pay a lot of attention to. because the thing is... dean's face falls, here. he's clearly put off by what sam's saying. he's bothered. and the common reading of that is that there was some degree of abuse more like max's that sam never saw. and that's like. that's DEFINITELY a legible reading of this episode.

however! i actually think this is a place where paying attention to authorial intent leads you interesting places.

so, first of all, what was the overall thesis of nightmare? i would argue that it's sam needs to stop being a pussy and whining about his childhood, some people have real problems. that's why the abuse max experiences is so cartoonishly bad, why the final conclusion is that max will always be miserable and is better off dead, why sam walks out of this experience more willing to empathize with john: the point of nightmare is that sam needs to learn that he could have had it way worse, that in fact growing up a hunter was the best option.

sam and max have a conversation in the middle of the episode that cements this point:

MAX: He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death. SAM: Why would he blame you for your Mom's death? MAX: Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault. SAM: (Looking shocked) She died in your nursery? MAX: There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!

the point being made here is that sam is lucky. both mary and max's mother died in insane ways. john responded to this by accepting the insanity and getting obsessed with hunting demons. max's dad falls deeper into drink and blames max instead. this is the way to present the miserable demon hunting child soldier lifestyle as the better option.

(it's also useful to talk about how john was probably not intended to be perceived as an abusive father (though of course he obviously is, the writers just don't think anything that isn't what max went through counts as abuse); @restlesshush has a point she likes to make about how no one bothered to tell jdm that john's relationship with salmondean is fraught so he just doesn't play it that way.)

so now that we've established the overall point of nightmare, let's get back to the original point. now, i specifically want to talk about what i think the intent of the text is.

now, the basic formula of supernatural season one is that sam and dean get in an argument at the start of the episode, usually about their father, and it continues throughout. and when one of them fails to argue back, the other notices. look at this moment from 1x11 scarecrow:

DEAN: Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life. SAM: Are you serious? DEAN: You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy. SAM: I don’t even know what to say.

dean fails to fulfill his narrative role, and sam notices. this is the same kind of things as when for example dean becomes more and more obsessed with clinging to sam because he has to in order to maintain the format of the show (i.e. two brothers). character flows from format, instead of the other way 'round.

and here, in nightmare, dean is unsettled by sam's change of heart, mostly because it breaks format, but also because, due to the format, sam (at least in dean's perception) has the character trait of "dad-critical" and it unnerves dean when this changes. that is i think as far as we can definitively say authorial intent goes. nightmare is a sam episode, so any deeper meaning is probably imo between jensen ackles and the fans.

but, if you'll permit me to go a little deeper than authorial intent while still using it as a baseline. here, in nightmare, the tendency to notice sam failing to fulfill his role becomes a lot more interesting. look at that scarecrow quote:

DEAN: You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy.

dean's disquiet when sam fails to fulfill his role as john-critic is both intriguing and unsettling. it's layered. dean isn't just reacting to sam not following the script. he needs someone to play the role of john critic in his life, because he can't do it. he is, consciously or unconsciously, relying on sam to do it for him. and that's why he makes that face outside the millers' house.

[mirajaneswritingshenanigans]

Fandom(s): Supernatural

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Past!Reader

Summary: A vamp case leads the boys two towns over from Jody’s hometown. Dean gets a case of deja vu when they ask the friend of the victim what they saw. The moment he hears a familiar voice the past comes flooding back.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fanfic. The writers, directors, producers, and the CW network own the characters, I am simply borrowing them for this Fanfic.

A/N: Y/N-Your Name. This is a repost from 2018. I had deleted, although I don’t remember the reason. But, I’ve decided to bring it back.

Warning(s): Out of character moments? Heartbreak. Dean getting angry.

Word Count: 3,476

Dean couldn’t help the feeling of Déjà Vu he was experiencing as he walked silently next to Sam. They got word of a case two towns over from where Jody lives. From what Sam said it was a vampire problem. Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out why he would have this feeling. The two of them were currently walking towards the front door of a house. Earlier in the day they questioned the town officers of the most recent attack. They gave them the information about the victim and what they knew of the attack and also gave the boys an address. The address belonged to a friend of the victim.

Sam knocked on the door when they reached it. Dean turned away to look at the yard. “Dean?” He immediately recognized the voice and turned to face them. It hit him hard on why he knew this place. Old memories and feelings resurfacing. “Hey, Y/N.” Dean said nervously. “You’re kidding, right?” Your voice now laced with anger and pain. “Um, you two know each other?” Sam questioned with a puzzled expression. “I wish we didn’t.” You looked away from Dean to Sam. Completely missing the hurt expression Dean wore when you said that. Though he couldn’t blame you for how you reacted. He remembered he didn’t say goodbye five years ago. Never even picked up the phone during those years to let you know how sorry he was. Never even explained why he left the way he did.

“You must be Sammy. Dean told me a lot about you when we did know each other. Care to explain what you two are doing here?” You stepped outside, closing the door behind you. You weren’t in the mood to invite either one of them into your house. You gestured to the table and chairs that were setup on the porch. They followed your lead as you took a seat at the table. “We’re here because we heard what happened to your friend. We’d like to hear what happened that night from you.” Sam stated nervously. Dean sat quietly not saying a word. He focused on his hands in his lap instead. You glanced to Dean and sighed. Sam could see the conflict of feelings in your expression. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” You turned your focus back to Sam.

“Try me.” Sam stated calmly. “All right. It happened two nights ago. We were walking home from the bar. They were drunk, I was sober. I had the feeling that we were being followed. I mentioned it to them. They told me to stop being paranoid.” You spoke quietly. Recalling the nightmarish scene in your mind. “This guy came out of nowhere. His teeth weren’t normal. They attacked my friend. I tried to fight them off. When I realized I couldn’t, I ran to the closest house like a coward. The house happened to be a cop’s house. He was off duty but called it in.” Your voiced cracked towards the end.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Dean finally spoke. You glanced over to Dean. He looked back at you. Sam looked back and forth between the two of you. “I’m going to give the two of you a moment. I’ll be in the car.” Sam said as he stood up. Leaving you alone with Dean. Not exactly what you had planned for today. Dean was the last person you had ever expected on your doorstep.

“Why’d you do it?” You asked. Several emotions flooding you at once. Dean looked down to his hands. He knew he needed to explain everything to you. “Dean, I swear to God. If you aren’t going to talk, you need to leave.” Your voice was cruel as you began to stand. “Wait.” Dean grabbed your wrist. “Like I did for the last five years?” Tears began to blur your vision. “I left because I had to deal with something.” Dean explained. “You couldn’t even call me? Tell me that you left and aren’t even coming back?” You yanked your wrist away from him. He had no idea the pain he caused when he suddenly left without an explanation or even saying goodbye.

“Right now. You’re explanation is the vaguest thing I’ve ever heard.” You choked out. “My time was running out okay? You and I had the best three years together back then. I won’t ever forget that. You were the best thing I ever experienced.” Dean stated, his voice cracking. “What the hell do you mean you’re time was running out?” You asked coldly. “Cross Roads Demon. Ever heard of the legend behind those?” Dean asked impatiently. “Of course I have. I’ve seen it in books and movies, and the Folklore class I took in college covered it also. Those are supposed to be legends.” You stated flatly. “Sweetheart, they aren’t just legends. They’re real. Sammy and I know from personal experience.” Dean began to explain.

You looked over to the impala. Sam was sitting in the passenger seat. Your heart ached when your mind began to flood with memories. The times Dean would take you on late night drives when you both couldn’t sleep. His music blaring as he drove down roads less traveled. You sighed sadly and turned back to Dean. “Monsters are real?” You asked softly. You felt fear creeping up on you. You knew that was a normal reaction. You did have an open mind but you didn’t expect to be this accepting of his truth or the truth of monsters.

“Yes. Sammy and I hunt those monsters. We really got into the business when our dad disappeared.” Dean said. You stood next to your chair, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort. “It’s a family thing?” You questioned. “Yeah. At least for us it is.” Dean looked down to his hands again. You sat down again and glanced to the impala. Sam waved awkwardly when you made eye contact. You waved back just as awkwardly.

“Do you believe me?” Dean asked so softly he thought you couldn’t hear him. “On one hand I just want to slap you hard and call you a liar. Tell you that I never want to see your stupidly attractive face again. On the other hand I can see the truth in your eyes. You’re eyes tell me that I can believe you. What happened two nights ago says I can believe you.” You told him. Dean couldn’t speak. “Dean, a part of me still loves you.” You confessed. Dean looked up and into your eyes. He saw several emotions flash through your eyes. “My life is too dangerous. I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. I can never have the apple pie life that I talked about all those years ago. I can never have you, not again. It’s too big of a risk.” His heart sank as he spoke.

He stood up quickly and handed you a card. “We’re going to solve this case and leave again.” Dean said. He couldn’t even look at you as he spoke. He knew if he did, he would break. “Goodbye, Y/N.” Dean choked out as he began to walk away. “Goodbye, Dean.” You said softly, your voice filled with pain. You looked down to the card. It had Sam’s name and number on it. The fact that Dean didn’t leave his number stung. A tear dropped onto the card.  You dropped the card on the table. You set your elbows on the table and rested your face in your hands. You couldn’t stop the sobs that began to escape.

Dean’s heart ached as he heard your sobs. He was only two feet down your walkway when you began to sob. He fought the urge to turn around and comfort you. He walked silently to his impala. He made the mistake of looking back when he reached the impala. His heart ached even more at the sight before him. You were still sitting at the table. Your arms were crossed on top the table now. Your face resting on them. He couldn’t hear your sobs anymore but he could tell by the way your shoulders shook that you hadn’t stopped. “I’m sorry.” He whispered sadly before getting in the car.

The car ride was silent. Sam was surprised that music wasn’t even playing as he stared out the window. Dean took them back to the motel they were staying at. Castiel popped up after an hour. “You called?” Castiel questioned. Sam’s brows furrowed when Castiel asked that. “I did. I need a favor Cas.” Dean stated. Sam raised a brow at Dean. “Okay?” Cas sat down on one of the beds. “I need you to wipe me from Y/N’s memory.” Dean choked out.

“Whoa, wait a minute. They should be able to make that decision.” Sam said quickly. “Dean, I agree.” Cas looked to Sam. “You didn’t see them today. You didn’t see the damage I caused by showing up.” Dean’s voice rose. “Dean, that doesn’t give you the right.” Sam stated sadly. Dean stood up quickly and threw his beer at the wall. “I was head over heels for them. In fact the moment I heard their voice, EVERYTHING came flooding back. The feelings, the memories, EVERYTHING!” Dean yelled, his voice cracking. Cas looked over to Sam, not knowing what to do.

“It may hurt right now, Dean, but you should hold onto those memories.” Cas stated kindly. “Why, so I can long for a life without them?” Dean’s voice was laced with anger. Anger that the pain of seeing you sob had brought on. “No. The way I see it, is you now have a bigger reason to rid the world of monsters.” Cas explained calmly. Dean let his words sink in and he knew Cas was right. Dean sat back down. “Let’s just solve this case. Make this place safer for them.” Dean stated. “So, get this. When I did some investigating online. I found out there is an abandoned house a mile away from the most recent attack site. I think that may be where the vampire nest is.” Sam pointed out to Cas and Dean.

Dean grabbed his coat and keys. “Let’s go kill some vamps.” He said as he walked out the door. “Do I ride along or do the Angel thing and pop myself over?” Cas asked curiously. “Ride with us.” Sam said as he led the way out of the room. During the car ride the three of them went over the plans of attack.

“The drive way is one half mile long. I think we should park at the end of it. That way the impala doesn’t give us away.” Sam said. “That sounds like a good idea.” Cas pointed out. Dean nodded but didn’t say a word. “Y/N was lucky enough to get away that night.” Cas said after Sam filled him in on the current events. “That’s not how they feel.” Dean deadpanned. “Survivor’s guilt?” Cas questioned. Dean began to slow the impala as the driveway of the abandoned house came into view. He didn’t want to talk about you anymore. He needed to focus. Focus on making your town a safer place. Making your life a safer place. He wouldn’t be able to do that if his mind was distracted with how you felt and are feeling.

Dean parked the impala and quietly got out of the car. He popped the trunk. Sam followed him to the trunk. Dean looked around for several of his favorite machetes and long knives. “Cas, you know how to kill a vamp?” Sam questioned. “Yes, cut the head off.” Cas stated proudly. Mainly proud of the fact that he knew the answer. Not proud of the fact that he has to kill. “All right. Let’s get this over with.” Dean stated. “Hold up.” Sam said. He reached into his back pocket because his phone was vibrating. “Hello?” He questioned. Dean watched Sam’s eyes widen and his face go pale. “Cas, pop over to Y/N’s house. NOW!” Sam ordered.

Dean’s heart dropped when Cas disappeared. “We need to get these vamps now!” Sam began to run towards the house. Leaving no room for Dean to argue. Dean followed Sam. Dean and Sam jumped into action the moment they made it to the house. Between the two of them they killed nine vampires. Dean was holding a tenth one in a head lock. “How many of you are there?” Sam asked angrily. “I’m the last.” Dean tightened his grip when the words left the vamp’s mouth. “You’re lying.” Dean growled out.

“Fine. There is one more. Went after the one that got away.” The vamp gasped out. Dean let go and pushed the vamp towards Sam. In a swift move Sam cut the vamp’s head off. Sam felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He immediately reached for it and answered quickly. “Cas?” Sam questioned. “That’s fantastic.” Sam sighed in relief before hanging up. “Cas made it in time. Y/N isn’t injured, only shaken. Cas is helping her clean up the mess he made when he cut off the vamp’s head.” Sam told Dean. Relief flooded his entire system at Sam’s words.

Dean glanced to the corner where a kerosene lantern was lit. He noticed a bottle of kerosene beside it. He walked over to the bottle and the lantern, grabbing both items. He began to empty out the bottle around the room he stood in with Sam. The moment Sam understood what Dean was doing he walked out of the house. When the bottle was emptied he threw it into the house. After doing that he threw the lit lantern into the house too. Right on the kerosene trail he made. The trail quickly went up in flames.

After about ten minutes the entire house was engulfed in flames. Dean turned away from the house and began to make his way towards the impala. Sam silently walking beside him. The town was safer now. No more vampires would be bothering anyone ever again. Dean blared his music once they made it back to the impala. He drove quickly to the motel room. He didn’t even want to drive to your house. He just couldn’t bring himself to do that, no matter how badly he wanted to see you right now. He had a plan when he got to the motel.

When they pulled up to the motel room they saw Cas waiting by the door. “Cas, how are they?” Dean immediately asked. “They were sleeping when I left.” Cas stated. “That’s good.” Dean said as he walked towards the door. He let Cas into the room first. “They were hiding in the closet when I got to the house.” Cas said as he sat on one of the beds. “They called my phone the moment they heard their door crash open. They were upstairs at the time.” Sam told Dean. Dean sat across the table from Sam. He was currently writing something on a sheet of paper. “Nothing happened to them though?” Dean looked up to Cas. “No. The vampire was taunting them to come out. But they stayed quiet and hidden. He was about to open the closet when I showed up. I cut his head off before he even touched the closet doorknob.” Cas stated.

“Good.” Dean turned his attention back to the paper. “They told me to send their thanks.” Cas told Sam. Sam nodded. “Well, I guess we can leave first thing in the morning.” Sam said as he stood up. “Yeah.” Dean muttered. “We’ll head back to Bobby’s in the morning.” Dean stated as he folded the paper. Sam took off his shoes and settled into his bed. Exhaustion taking over the moment he lied down. “Cas, I want you to take this to Y/N’s. Make sure it’s the first thing they see when they wake. Understood?” Dean’s voice was filled with urgency. Cas nodded in agreement and disappeared. Dean took off his shoes and walked over to his bed. He sighed heavily as he pulled the blankets back before lying down. He fell into a heavy sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

You startled awake the next morning. The events of the past few days flooding your mind. You knew nightmares would be a thing for awhile. You sighed and looked over to your alarm clock. Your brows furrowed when the time was blocked by a sheet of paper. You threw your feet over the side of the bed and reached for the paper. Slowly unfolding it. A lump formed in your throat as you recognized Dean’s handwriting.

Dear Y/N,

I regret saying that I should never have gotten involved in the first place. That was harsh and untrue. I don’t regret nor will I ever regret spending those years together. I will forever wish that you were with me once again. But as I stated before, it is too high of a risk. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I’d lost you. Or if you got killed under my protection. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t still love you. I know what I said before may have been harsh. I just can’t take the risk of losing you. I’ll always remember the good times.

My favorite memory will always be our first late night drive. The one where we sped down that dirt road that had a beautiful scenery. You know exactly which one I speak of. It was your favorite place because you could see the stars clearly. That night you were sitting on the door, holding tightly to baby. The wind flowing through your hair. Of course I slowed baby down to thirty miles an hour. I remember glancing over and seeing pure happiness on your face. You whooped loudly before sitting back down in the passenger seat. Your hair was a mess as you gave me a huge smile. Then we both began to sing off key to your favorite song just because we could.

I regret the day I left without a word. I could tell when I saw you that I did a lot of damage by doing so. I hope one day you can forgive me. Even if I won’t forgive myself. Seeing you again made all the feelings and memories come flooding back at once. Memories I had thought were long forgotten. I hope that you will find love again, as much as it pains me to say that. I just want you to be happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me.

The vamps have been taken care of. Your town and you are safe once again. I’d say keep in touch but that seems like a bad idea. Even though I want it so badly to be that way. Maybe one day I can retire from this life. That seems like only a dream. Until then I will continue to keep the world safe from the things that go bump in the night. Keeping you safe.

Now. This is my final goodbye. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I want to keep you safe and it seems this is the only way. If you ever need someone call Sheriff Jody Mills. She’s a hunter too. I’m sorry it has to be this way. I hope this will bring closure to the wound I caused five years ago. I love you, Y/N. I hope one day you will be the happy person I knew you to be, again. Goodbye.

Love Forever Dean Winchester.

You silently folded the letter and held it close to your heart. Tears steadily streamed down your face. “I will forever love you too.” You whispered sadly as your head hung low. Unbeknownst to you Cas stood in front of you. Using his Angel grace to hide his presence. He had listened to you read the letter aloud to yourself. His heart clenching at the words being said. He now understood why Dean was so upset. He didn’t know the full story but he got the gist of it.

Cas sighed heavily as he popped up in the back seat of the impala. Dean glanced into the rear view mirror. “She got your letter.” Cas stated. Dean nodded as he kept his eyes on the road. Sam glanced over to Dean and then to Cas. Sam hoped that one day Dean would tell him what went on between the two of you. Dean turned up the music as he continued down the road. The three of them heading for Bobby’s place. “Goodbye.” Dean whispered when they passed the sign that announced they were leaving the town. He didn’t look back like he wanted to. Instead he continued on.

Supernatural Masterlist~Main Masterlist

[stilltrails]

How do I phrase this--I know there’s a common complaint about the interpretation of the Kidnap Family being too happy. There’s an implication that people don’t acknowledge how complex Elrond, Elros, Maedhros, and Maglor’s relationship, or are just not aware of it (or worse, not capable of understanding the complexity of their relationship)

And I have two thoughts about this--

The first being that there actually is a lot of media that does portray a realistic take on their relationship. It’s out there. Most fanfiction that starts from the twin’s childhood, at least from what I’ve read, has acknowledged the complexities and fear and anger that Elrond and Elros have towards the Feanorians. 

Fandom media especially portrays Elros as being distant to the Feanorians, even as an adult. 

I think it’s a bit insulting and offensive to fans and writers to assume that there’s no complex takes on their relationship, and that all takes are 100% lovey dubey when writers and fans and artists who are a fan of the kidnap fam have spent a lot of time pouring complexities of their relationship into their work. 

Myself included. 

It’s like saying “these people have never ever delved into the dark relationship between these four and just want it all to be 100% happy” when we’re sitting here with long stories, metas, comics, etc. about the darkness you’re talking about. We put in the hours and did the work. 

It’s there, but I think if you’re someone who’s not a particular fan of this family, or the Sons of Feanor,  you’re not going to be looking deep enough in the first place. And that’s one of the spaces I see the criticism from. From people who don’t really like this dynamic. And that’s fine, but please don’t assume that writers, fans, and artist haven’t been making the most complex kidnap fam content when you haven’t looked, or when you’re admittedly not a fan of it. 

That’s a bit insulting. 

Secondly, it’s fanfiction. The Silmarillion itself tends to hyper-focus on agony already. Why would fans dedicate their time solely to reproducing the agony that already exists. For almost everything sad that happened in the Silmarillion, I’ve seen at least ten happy portrayals in fanfiction, because fans don’t just want sad things.  And that’s fine. 

That’s like saying, “Don’t make Sam and Frodo happy together in Valinor because realistically in canon Frodo probably deals with a lot of PTSD and Sam is probably still hooked on his wife.” Like maybe that happened, maybe it didn’t. But don’t blame fans for wanting a happy ending.

 The purpose of fanfiction is to delve from canon, especially if that canon makes you sad. It’s escapism, especially if you relate to these characters. That’s why i’m always particularly bothered by, “Why are people always portraying the Feanorians and Elrond and Elros in a happy relationship, they canonically did this”. 

Because we can? Because these are characters people relate to on somewhat personal levels, and being able to write them in a way that makes us feel good is allowed. What’s the point of fanfiction if we’re criticized for how we write it? 

And again, the idea that no fan of the kidnap family is aware of the complex, dark relationship is both infantilizing, hurtful, and dismissive to the writers, artists, and fans in this corner of the fandom who have dedicated time to exploring the dark complexities of the relationship. 

But we also don’t have to 100% fixate on the sadness. 

From the words of Arwen herself, we choose both the bitter and the sweet. Let us be XD 

[charred-angelwings]

glad I’m not the only one who sees or hears the word “rebar” and gets angry heartbreak flashbacks and sees red because SAME!!

also now any time in movies/games/shows when they kill off a hero character in a crazy unsatisfactory way I say “they Dean Winchestered him”

So Ellie at 14 keeps Joel alive after a rebar incident in a post apocalyptic world with little to no resources, what excuse does Sam have for letting Dean die with emergency services available to him