#also if I had a son I'd probably name him Dean

[zepskies]

I had this random thought today, that if I’ll have two sons in the future I’ll name them Dean and Sam. Supernatural shows such awesome bond between the brothers, they take care of each other and will literally die for each other. My heart overflows with emotion when i see the bond between the Winchester boys❤️

Awww, hun! I love that. I love that so much. ❤️😍

I think Supernatural has been able to connect with people on a wide variety of themes surrounding family:

Family don't end with blood.

Absent fathers and mothers.

Quasi-father, uncle, mother, sister, brother figures.

"Almost" sons and "almost" daughters.

But the central theme and relationship, of course, is that brotherhood, for better or worse. And there's been a lot of "worse" between Sam and Dean.

Ultimately though, their bro bond is more. It's quasi-father. It's protector. It's best friend. It's "the bad guys know you're my weakness." It's "I'll sell my soul for you." It's "I'm not myself when you're not in my life." It's "even when I hate you, you're my family."

Plus, I think objectively "Sam" and "Dean" are just awesome names. The French origination of Dean means "leader." Because of course it does.

Whereas Samuel comes from Hebrew, meaning "God has heard," which is an interesting irony, considering his arc in the show.

Dean's character was created to emulate the "James Dean" type, the Han Solo, the Indiana Jones, the Captain Kirk. While Sam was created to be the Luke Skywalker. The Sherlock Holmes.

The brawn and the brain. The swashbuckler and the cerebral hero.

But they're each so much more than those archetypes suggest, which is part of the reason why I fell in love with the show -- and why Kripke is a goddamn freakin' genius.

(And why I think Jensen and Jared are phenomenal actors.)

Anyway, sorry for my unsolicited Ted Talk/Sam & Dean musings. Thanks for dropping into my Ask box to share your thoughts with me! 🥰😘

[mercy-burning]

…I Wonder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!

———

ACT I: If I Had A Baby...

The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.

It was a start. A shot in the dark.

By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.

He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.

I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.

What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.

The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.

"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."

Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.

I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.

I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.

It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?

Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.

He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."

Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?

So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.

Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.

It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.

At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.

I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...

That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.

And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?

I hated even thinking about it.

And then there was the first paycheck.

Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.

Payment completely slipped my mind.

And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.

"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."

Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."

He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.

At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.

I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"

I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."

"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."

I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.

He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.

ACT II: If I Was A Lady...

The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.

Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.

It was a day, and night, I would never forget.

Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.

"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.

"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.

"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"

He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."

"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."

"Mmmm."

I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.

Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...

In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.

I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.

He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.

The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.

His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.

"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.

It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.

That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.

He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.

"We can't ever do that again."

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.

"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."

"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.

"You should go home."

"Okay."

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.

After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.

I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.

I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.

Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.

I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?

He texted back almost immediately; All is well.

It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.

Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.

I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.

Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."

There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."

"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."

"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."

"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."

"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."

Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.

I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.

"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.

I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."

"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.

I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"

He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night."

I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.

Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.

"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.

"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."

I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.

Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.

Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.

"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."

He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.

But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.

"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"

His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"

We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.

Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.

"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.

"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.

"Of course," I agreed.

"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"

Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"

"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.

"It really does! Do you want to come see?"

"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."

Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."

"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."

He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?

He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."

My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?

Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."

"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."

I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.

His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.

He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?

It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"

Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."

I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.

I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."

And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.

ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.

I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.

I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.

It scared me, but also deeply excited me.

Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.

Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Happy Birthday!"

He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.

"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"

"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.

As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).

"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"

I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.

So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."

I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"

The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"

"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."

As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."

The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...

To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.

I decided to spare him the wait.

"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."

"Really? No eggshells?"

I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."

Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.

Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.

He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.

I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.

"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"

He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."

"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."

I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.

"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"

"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."

"I love you, Auntie Y/N."

I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."

ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.

The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.

Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.

Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.

I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.

His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.

"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"

"My birthday was yesterday..."

He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.

"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."

I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.

"You're not my dad."

Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."

The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.

"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."

The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.

I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."

"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."

"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.

"Well?"

"I want to be yours."

He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."

And then he kissed me.

He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.

I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.

And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.

"God, I love the sounds you make..."

His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.

I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.

Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.

I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.

Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.

I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...

With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.

Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"

Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."

"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."

A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.

"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.

His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.

Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.

I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.

Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.

I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.

"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.

"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."

My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.

"Please."

The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Follow me."

And I did. I always would.

As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.

Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.

He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"

"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.

"You're not complaining are you?"

"God, no."

"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.

Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.

"Is this okay?"

I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."

Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.

No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.

Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.

His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.

"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"

My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."

"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.

Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.

"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."

All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"

"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.

He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...

"Never better," I responded earnestly.

"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"

"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.

"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."

I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."

"As you wish."

The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.

Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"

Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."

I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.

"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.

I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."

I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.

His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.

Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.

And he was making me come. Hard.

The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.

"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."

Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.

His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.

Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.

I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.

Oh, my God...

I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.

His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.

"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."

I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.

Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.

The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."

It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."

"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."

It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.

"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."

Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.

It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.

His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.

"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.

Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."

I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.

I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.

CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.

Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.

It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.

I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.

I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.

"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.

They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.

"Will you be my mom?"

Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.

Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.

Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.

"Yes."

THE END.

[lanafofana]

🎃Snippet Sunday🎃

Thankies for the tag @roguishcat 😘

Have a peek at the BG3 flufftober WIP(sfw)

There was no getting around it. The pumpkin was fucking ugly.

Tav stared at it, brows furrowed, frowning and trying to come up with something encouraging to say. Her companion sighed.

“Just say it,” Shadowheart muttered, slumped in self pity on her side of the picnic bench. “It’s awful.”

“No!” Tav blurted and then bit her lip when Shadowheart transferred her narrow eyed stare from the gourd in question to her. “I mean, it’s…” Adjectives, each more unhelpful than the last, flew through her mind. Hideous. Gross. Cursed. She tilted her head the other direction, hoping to stir a burst of inspiration from somewhere. A piece of pumpkin hanging on by sheer force of will abandoned its post and landed on the table with a wet splat. “It’s an honest effort.”

Shadowheart gave her a disgusted look. “OH thanks!” She glared resentfully down at her project. “It’s a fucking piece of work. What am I gonna do?” With the dull handle of her blade she prodded the gaping maw of her savaged creation morosely. “The contest is in two hours and Lae’zel’s going to be mortified I submitted this in her name.”

Lips pressed into a thin line Tav didn’t have a clue what to do either. “What was it supposed to be?” she asked delicately.

Her friend rolled her eyes. “You can’t even tell? That’s just, ugh! Whatever, it’s supposed to be a mindflayer, from that game she’s always playing?”

“Right.” Tav prodded a pile of pumpkin guts spilling out from the pumpkin monster’s maw, “and this?”

“A brain?”

“Okay,” said Tav gamely. Running through the options available to them in their limited time frame Tav puffed out her cheeks in thought before snapping her fingers. “Got it.” Her friend looked up hopefully. “Have you thought about hiding?”

“Tav!” complained Shadowheart, threatening to throw a pile of juicy pumpkin guts at her face.

Dodging away, Tav laughed. “I’m not joking! Your girlfriend scares me. But,” she added a hair more seriously. “Also, she like, loves you, right? Like love-love’s you. Like a lot. Have you considered she probably won’t even care?”

Shadowheart scowled. “The prize is a year-pass to all those mixed martial arts fights they do at the colosseum. She’ll care.”

Gathering up bits of pumpkin pulp into a pile Tav sighed and stepped away to throw it in the bin when an idea occurred to her and she froze.

“We could…no. It’s a bad idea.”

Shadowheart was out of her seat in an instant. “No, don’t do that, what were you going to say?”

Gathering the abandoned implements of pumpkin carving Tav considered her words carefully. “It’s a really bad idea but…I think I know where we can steal one.”

“Oh for the love of,” Shadowheart swore. “Is that always your first solution? Crime?”

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. Well don’t stop there, go on, out with it. Where is this pumpkin and how do we not get caught and how do you know about it and how do you know–”

“You remember that guy I told you about? Raphael?”

Shadowheart’s hands come down hard on the picnic table with a loud smack. “The Dean’s son?” she hisses, horrified at the direction this is going.

“Yeah,” confirms Tav grimly. She picks up the brutalized pumpkin and considers it for a moment before setting it back down with a frown. “I know for a fact he carved one and I also know for a fact he won’t be submitting it.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“He’s been using one of the art department’s studios after hours, I saw him working on it the nights I had life drawing. And last night I saw him having a row with his father in the quad by the Admin annex.” A twinge of something curled in Tav’s gut uncomfortably at the memory. “Anyway, he’s definitely not in the running anymore. We just have to break into the studio he’s been using and bing bang boom.”

***

Everyone's working so industriously on their kink/flufftober prompts I shant be tagging anyone but if you have something lurking in ur WIP folder I'd love to seeeee itttt. 👁️🫦👁️

[braveclementine]

Chapter 19

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞!" Harry's voice kept calling out the dead elfs name. I didn't even have a chance to say or do a single thing to save the elf. I could only sink to my knees by Harry's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Bill, Fleur, Dean, and Luna came over after some time, probably to assess if we were hurt since we weren't moving. 

Harry noticed them and said, "Hermione? Where is she?" 

"Ron's taken her inside. She'll be all right." Bill said softly. He glanced over at me, then back to the dead house elf in Harry's arms. 

Harry looked down at Dobby before pulling the sharp, sleek blade from his chest. He pulled his coat off, covering the small, childlike body with it. 

Bill made a few orders of the others. Dean helped Griphook into the house, Fleur hurrying after them. 

"We can bury him." Bill said gently to Harry. 

"Uh huh." Harry agreed, sounding distant. 

"Just give him a moment." I mumbled, wiping away the tears that were forming in my eyes. I really hated my pregnancy hormones. 

"I want to do it properly." Harry suddenly spoke. His voice was strained, full of pain, sorrow, grief, and guilt. "Not by magic. Have you got a spade?" 

Bill said nothing, only standing to go and retrieve the said spade, before returning to give it to Harry. 

I waited outside with Harry, the pregnancy spell having dropped since I was no longer apparating. I felt rather large as I sat there, on the rock, but I wanted to be here, since I couldn't help. Besides, I was going to have to sit through many more of these, I was going to have to get used to it. 

Eventually, Ron, Dean, and Trang joined us. Trang didn't have Remus in her arms, so I had a based assumption that my son was in the house. 

"How's Hermione?" Harry spoke the first words since Bill had left us alone. 

"Better, Fleur's looking after her." Ron responded, before the two young men simply jumped down into the hole with spades to help Harry finish the grave. Trang meanwhile, sat down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had never met Dobby, but she knew how much the house-elf meant to Harry and me. 

When they were done with the grave, Harry wrapped Dobby up tighter in his jacket, Ron gave him his shoes and socks, while Dean placed a hat on his head. I slowly undid the scarf that was around my neck, handing it to Harry, who helped put it around his  neck. Trang produced gloves, which were placed upon Dobbys' hands. 

"We should close his eyes." Luna said softly. I flinched a little, my back having been towards them. I turned to see that Bill, Fleur, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Trang were all there, Trang holding Remus in her arms. I felt a sudden, unwarranted stab of anger at Ollivander and Griphook. They should've been out here for Dobby's burial. 

Luna knelt down, her fingers moving Dobby's eyelids until they covered his glassy, unseeing eyes. I was suddenly struck funny by the realization that Dobbys' eyes were green. Maybe the universe had something against green eyes and they just all needed to die. 

Harry and Dean climbed out of the grave, looking down at the small body. I wondered if it would feel the same, looking at Dad and Tonks. . .  No they'll be fine. They'll be fine. I tried to convince myself, forcing myself to focus solely on Dobby. I had had a plan and Dobby simply had not worn the shielded clothes I'd created. Dad and Tonks and Severus would be different, I would deal with them directly, not second-hand. 

"I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?" Luna said, and then without waiting for a response, said, "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now." 

"Yeah. . . thanks, Dobby." Ron murmured. 

"Thanks." Dean followed. 

"Good-bye Dobby." Harry said in a tight voice. 

Bill lifted the dirt with his wand, letting it settle into the hole, forming a mound of sorts. 

"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked as the others started to make their way back to the house. 

"Sure." Bill murmured, patting Harry on the shoulder. 

I hesitated, looking down at the rock I had been carving into a headstone with words carved into it. When I had been writing the words on it, they had made sense in my head, painting me a picture of sadness and yet love at the same time. Now, staring at the words, they didn't make any sense: 

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝐸𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎

I scoffed silently to myself and dropped the rock in the dirt, walking past Harry, joining the others in the house, leaving my words to wear away for years to come. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 standing in the foyer of Griphooks bedroom when Harry came up the stairs with Bill, Ron and Hermione. I went to stand aside, but Harry shook his head. "I want your advice in here." 

I glanced over at Hermione, who gave me a small smile.

"In here." Bill said, opening up the door to his and Fleurs' room. It was a beautiful room, with colours that matched the sea and sand outside. I realized now that I had never actually been to the sea, though I had always longed to go. I supposed I could make the most of this visit, though I now wished it was with Severus and Dad as well. 

Hermione took a seat besides the dressing table, Ron sitting on the arm of the chair. Harry moved to the window, turning his back to the beautiful view outside to lean against the sill, his arms across his chest. The familiar flicker of pain in his eyes told me that his scar was hurting again. I'm sure if I had still been wearing our mums' locket, I would've felt the same pain against my chest. 

Bill came into the room with Griphook in his arms, gently putting him down on the bed and Bill left without another word. Now that Griphook was in the room, I decided to sit on the loveseat, the babies in my stomach kicking hard now. I put a hand against my stomach, rubbing it gently, hoping it would soothe them. 

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed. How are your legs?" Harry asked. 

"Painful. But mending." 

I looked at the Gryffindor sword that the goblin held in his hands, clutching it with reluctance, as though he already knew what we were asking for, though I knew that wasn't the case. 

"You probably don't remember-" Harry started, but Griphook interrupted. 

"-that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts? I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous." There was a long silence, where the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. I knew who won when Griphook continued, "You buried the elf. I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door." 

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I wouldn't regret. I wouldn't even have to feel that I needed to berate him for not showing up to the funeral if I had just been able to save Dobbys' life. 

"Yes." 

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." 

Harry rubbed his scar as he questioned, "In what way?"

"You dug the grave." 

"So?" 

Griphook didn't answer, so I did. 

"Certain ah, species don't expect Wizards to take the time for a proper burial for those we are supposed to see as 'below us.'" 

Griphook gave me a look that said he didn't like my way of explaining it, but it had been the nicest way of putting it that I had been able to see. 

"Griphoook, I need to ask-" 

"You also rescued a goblin." 

"What?" 

"You brought me here. Saved me." 

"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" I heard the impatience in Harry's voice. 

"No, Harry Potter, but you are a very odd wizard." 

"Right. Well I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault." 

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry like he had gone mad, while Harry's eyes flickered just a bit. I hoped he wasn't in too much pain, but that was a big hope. 

"Harry-" Hermione started, but was interrupted immediately by the goblin. 

"Break into a Gringotts vault? Impossible." 

"No, it isn't. It's been done." Ron quickly backed Harry up. 

"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." There had to be some sort of poetic justice to that. 

"The vault in question was empty at the time." The goblin snapped, clearly offended. "Its protection was minimal." 

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful. It belongs to the Lestranges." 

If Hermione and Ron hadn't been looking at him like he had a screw loose before, they most certainly were now, as they exchanged a glance. 

"You have no chance. No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours-" 

"Thief, you have been warned, beware- yeah I know, I remember," Harry interrupted "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?" 

"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers." 

"Wand-carriers." Harry repeated. 

"The right to carry a wand, has long been contested between wizards and goblins." 

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands." Ron replied. 

"That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!" 

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either, you won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never-" 

"It doesn't matter. This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature-

Griphooks laugh made the hairs on my arms stand up. "But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?" 

"We do! We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!" 

I felt uncomfortable with both her words and the way she sat up straight, her eyes bright and passionate. I physically cringed where I sat, feeling weird about it. 

"Don't call yourself-" 

"Why shouldn't I? Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys'!" 

I thought for effect she might pull her robe arm up, to show where Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. Considering that would've had greater effect to punctuate her words. Instead, she simply showed the thin line across her neck, not to deep, and already healed into a scab. 

And don't get me wrong, I'm sure that hurt like a bitch. But I feel that the dramatic effect would've been a lot better. 

"Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?" Ron fidgeted and I rolled my eyes. "You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!" 

True. I definitely wanted revenge for my parents and for ripping my entire family apart. 

"What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside of it is a fake. This is the real one. I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there." 

"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault is it? Perhaps you've seen the other things in there?" 

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers." 

He stroked the sword as he spoke, his beady black eyes darting between the four of us. 

"So young, to be fighting so many." 

"Will you help us?" Harry asked. I could hear a baby start to cry downstairs and knew that I needed to depart. "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblins' help. You're our one chance." 

"I shall. . . think about it." Griphook said. 

"But-" 

"Thank you." Harry said softly. 

"I think, that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me. . ." 

"Yeah, of course." Harry said, leaning forward and taking the sword of Gryffindor from where Griphook had laid it down. The four of us left the room, my skin prickling as I turned my back to the goblin. 

"Little git, he's enjoying keep us hanging." 

"Harry, are you saying what I think you're saying?" The crying grew louder. "Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault?" 

"Yes. Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about." 

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?" Ron asked. 

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts. He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him." 

He rubbed his scar. Trang came up the stairs, carrying Remus, who had stopped crying so loudly, but still whimpering slightly. 

"I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me. . . except for Hogwarts." 

"You really understand him." Ron said after a moment, as I took Remus into my arms. I bounced him just a little, before looking up. 

"Well, and also Bellatrix and him had a daughter together." I said nonchalantly, without thinking really. 

"He what?" Ron exclaimed vehemently and Trang choked out. 

"I thought it was obvious." I said, then cooed to Remus, "Let's go down and play with toys." I turned and walked back down the stairs, Trang tailing me closely. 

"What was that all about?" Trang asked. I explained the conversation to Trang as we made our way to the living room, before turning to other conversation as Bill came into the room. 

"I suppose you can't tell me what you're doing here either?" Bill asked. 

"Oh, actually, it's quite simple. You-Know-Who was going to be where Trang and I have been hiding out. We left hours prior to that visit, and I figured here was a good place. Sorry for the intrusion." I explained quickly, putting Remus down on the floor now that he'd stopped crying. I had brought a few of his favorite toys with us, and I put them down next to him now, which he immediately picked up and started to play with. 

"It's alright, I'm just glad you guys are safe." Bill said, still surveying me as I gingerly sat down on the couch, putting a hand over my stomach. "Er- Snape?" 

"Oh, uh yeah." I mumbled quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Twins, possibly." 

It was silent for a moment and then Bill said. "I get it. I mean, not Snape, hearsay, but uh, the love part. . . it's hard to stop loving someone who already had your heart." 

"Yeah, it is." I murmured. 

"Your rooms are upstairs." Bill said. "We put you and Trang in with Hermione." 

"Thank you, Bill." I said softly. "We appreciate it." 

Bill nodded and then continued on his way. 

"So what's the plan?" Trang asked lightly. 

"We pretend we're on vacation. Spend our days down at the beach, help cook and clean so we're not overbearing guests, and then a week before Harry and the others leave for Gringotts, we'll leave for Hogwarts. The future there is a little fuzzy admittedly, but it seems like a sound plan." 

"Understood. I'm going to go lay down, I'm pretty tired." Trang said softly, standing up. She squeezed my shoulder and headed upstairs. 

I continued to sit in the living room, lost in thought, until Harry strode out of the house, Hermione and Ron tailing after him. 

Flashes of visions played in my head. Severus was bustling down the steps of Hogwarts. . . meeting with Voldemort. . .Severus headed back up the stairs after Voldemort instructed him to do so. Severus would attempt to look out the window, see what the Dark Lord was doing, but he could not see him. . . he had casted a Disillusionment charm. And Harry was telling Ron and Hermione the same things I was seeing. Ron was bemoaning the fact that they hadn't gone after the wand. 

But everything would work out somehow. I could see the vague image of a person finishing Voldemort inside Hogwarts. Which would most likely take place in June although I didn't know the exact date. It could even possibly be late May. I was only predicting June since all of our other escapades had happened in the last month of school. 

I stood, gripping the couch arm as I felt the dizziness of doing so. Black dots danced across my vision and I waited until they were gone to move again. I made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Trang was fast asleep and I saw that Bill had fashioned a makeshift crib in the corner for Remus. I laid my son down in the crib, putting the small blanket over him, tucking his favorite stuffed animal in with him. 

"Goodnight sweetheart." I murmured, before climbing into the bed closest to him. 

I fell asleep quickly, big green eyes imprinted against my eyelids and Dobby's voice echoing in my ears. 

⬅️➡️

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 22

We're at the Season 1 penultimate episode for both of these series (and I guess the next Sherlock episode I watch is ALSO the Season 1 penultimate episode, but like...that's a three episode season. We won't even SEE Jim til almost March :( )

"Salvation"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: If the first five minutes are just sitting through a recap of the last 20 episodes? I can survive sitting through that (but I won't be happy about it). Nevermind, seems like we're getting a real first five minutes. Know what? I'd let Meg kill me. If she's gonna do it anyway, might as well make it my choice or something.

I relish Winchester infighting. There's been so much of it this season and it's so good even if a little pointless. And now there's three to fight with each other??

What a wonderful name for a midwest town to wrap this season up in: Salvation, Iowa. Damn.

So, I think I'd be more...invested in this whole "Pastor Jim is dead and that's hitting too close to home for the Winchesters" if, you know, the first time we met him it wasn't when Meg slashed his throat open.

It's kind of convenient that Sam has psychic visions at just the right times.

I'm. No. SIR! NO. Disrespectfully, no. You fucking DISAPPEARED, you don't get to tell Dean that if something weird starts happening with Sam, that you need to be told IMMEDIATELY. Fuck that noise. Stop it. Do not make me laugh. I'll fucking do it.

I paused before Dean got his say in, and OH MAN. YES, Dean!!! Nah, bitch, you don't get to abandon your kids and OCCASIONALLY leave cryptic messages, but then tell them you don't like the tone they're taking with you. Nu uh.

Oh. Okay. Her picking off John's friends one by one is, frankly, delicious. I should not be this attracted to her right now. I really do just love when villains

I...am truly heartbroken over what John wants for his sons. He wants Sam to be able to go back to school, which is nice and fine. He should get to follow his dreams. But then he says "I want Dean to have a home." And that's one of those moments you realize how much Dean has lacked for so much of his life. Sam had Stanford for all the time he was there, and he would have likely had a settled life, but DEAN? (I'm shifting into my "Being Broken Hearted Dean and Touya At the Same Time For Similar Reasons" mode)

I *DON'T* like the boys (*coughsamcough*) trying to say good bye "in case something happens," even if I do get it.

John IS smart though. Smart even if he's reckless. The boys, a little less so. Or the father of the family they're trying to protect is also...very protective, as he should be. Two guys in their mid-twenties just broke into their house in the middle of the night. Usually, they build a better rapport with whomever they're trying to save. Guess they didn't really have the time today.

Oh shit. Dean got that baby out not a moment too soon.

I mean, we had to know they weren't going to get the demon tonight.

Dean just doesn't want to lose the only two people he has, and those two people seem to be a-okay with just throwing their lives away, sacrificing themselves for this cause. I'm distraught.

"Been On My Mind...": No. And I didn't expect to with all plot that's happening

"Bad Wolf"

This is such a fun and weird way to enter the episode: the Doctor being sucked into some future form of the show Big Brother. And Rose is on The Weakest Link (does that even exist anymore?? Does it have actual new episodes on the Game Show Network or is it just reruns? Do they even have reruns of it anymore?)

You gotta love Jack's confidence "Ladies, your viewing figures just went up"

I think this bit would have been maybe funnier back in '06? Now it's just...I dunno. It's not hitting like it's probably supposed to. It's probably supposed to be a mix of funny and horrifying? But the whole Weakest Link part is now just horrifying....seventeen years later.

Don't tell me she gets vaporized too...wtf.

Finally. Some development.

(I feel bad because I remember liking this episode a lot more in the past.)

I shouldn't laugh because it's not actually funny (or it is in a grim way). But the actual news getting shut down and then governments collapsing because of that and the rise of all of these inane yet extremely dangerous game shows and reality tv shows...feels poignant for some reason.

Rose's disintegration doesn't hit as hard when you know she's not actually dead. Or at least she comes back.

I even SAW the daleks in the preview the other day and forgot they were coming back for this episode.

This episode was what would have been a lot of confusion in the first half (if this weren't a rewatch) and set up in the second half, so there wasn't a lot to say, sadly.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 5

Look who's back with a 5k+ word count chapter?! Me!

I was planning on posting 1k+ at a time but stuff happened and I'm posting it all at once!

Enjoy and I'd appreciate it dearly if you reblog! Thank you!

Edit: Reached the 250 block limit so... The inevitable decision had to be made! Part 5 has a total of 3.42k words! The rest will be in a separate post <3

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, brief mentions of blood and injury.

Overall SFW (but 16+ for language)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 Part 6

*

The walk back to the school building was quiet.

Or so I thought.

Because it wasn't. At all.

Whispers, mutterings, echoed from the rooms as we passed by.

Are they doing it on purpose, or is my hearing sharper than usual?

"Hey look it's that girl."

"You mean the freak who sat beside the orc—"

"First day of school and someone already got killed. Should've expected him to be a savage."

"You think she wears a mask to hide her identity? Maybe she's a criminal-"

Probably the latter.

I shrugged. There stood a decent amount of distance between us anyway. So it's likely my hearing.

Students were watching us with weird suspecting eyes from a distance behind the windows. Sensing apprehension and outward hate when they saw Tai'chi next to me, his face in a neutral expression. But with my nose at this proximity, he smells pretty annoyed.

Just— why are there so many people,— humans–garnering these feelings towards someone they don't even know! And to even mock him like that! How dare —

"Pearl," Tai'chi called. His rich voice resonating, making the gossips of the students stop for a brief moment before they continued. Most likely slandering my name now. I didn't know I was standing still. Looking up, Tai'chi was a decent 9 meters away, with the staff members further ahead of him. He gave me a wondering look, worry along with his natural fragrance, drifted through me, carried by air.

I straightened up and took long strides, Tai'chi beside me, to catch up with them.

"Yeah, just thinking. I'm okay." Replying, not looking up to him. He didn't ask, but I felt like he would.

************short pov shift************

He was a bit bothered by the change in your scent and looked back when he noticed you weren't beside him anymore. There you were, standing in the middle of the wide hallway, brows scrunched up in aggravation.

He called out to you, probably a little louder than he meant to, but you looked up and hastily made your way beside him, both of you catching up to the rest towards the dean's office. He didn't ask, but you answered, only making him worry even more.

**********first person pov**************

As soon as we entered the main office of the center building, we were greeted with the sight of the dean and David, together with Miss Holson. He was a white fat man, though a bit taller than me, wearing a light grey suit with a few buttons open revealing a white undershirt, and a silly yellow, violet polka dot tie. I barely held back from snorting at the sight.

Mr. Silverstone was fussing over his son, his voice raised in slight panic was heard by everyone.

They went ahead of us then.

"My son! My dear, dear David! Who did this to you?!" he cried out. Once David, that son of a bitch, spotted me, he flashed me that blasted grin of his. He was acting, pretending to be hurt.

I hardly even left a scratch on him for fuck's sake. How I regret not punching him straight in the face.

Reverting to his fake, frightened, and miserable state, he pointed at me. "I-I-It's her father! She is the one who attacked me! Along with that thing with her."

Thing?! That sick bastard!

The dean whipped his head in my direction, eyes scanning me up and down before he diverted them to Tai'chi.

Well, it seems I'll ve packing up sooner than I thought.

My shoulders sagged.

Some professors were alarmed by this, frantically pushing forward to grab his attention.

"Mr. Silverstone, we still do not know what's for certain. We must interrogate them properly and listen to each of their sides before we make a decision." Mr. Dulrik asserted, his voice strained and close to animosity. He was not pleased with what the student had said.

The elder professor from earlier followed up.

"Listen to Mr. Dulrik, sir. We cannot take any risks and ju—"

"Silence!" the dean shouted. "I will not hear your reasoning. My son has told me everything I need to know. Miss Holson supported his claims and that's enough to decide what to do with these criminals."

Criminals?!

"The girl and that orc shall be expelled from this institution immediately. We do not need any murderers or barbarians here. I have always suspected why that Ernestine brat even allowed these monstrosities to be with us. To breathe the same air and walk the same land as we do, endangering our safety no less! A pathetic excuse of a founder she is! If it were me I would've—"

"You would've what?" Words came out before I stopped myself, my voice low, but it was heard still, drawing their attention to me.

"What did you just say?" He demanded, his anger slipping out more. The room was silent, except for the subtle ticking of the wall clock behind me, and the movement of air around us.

I lifted my head and looked at him dead in the eye. "You would've what?" This time, I replied, louder.

Before he could retort I went on, emotion fueling my words as I advanced with every question asked.

"Would've banned every single, non-human race from the university?

"Would've taught every human that they are greater beings and the ones that were different were meant to be stepped on?

"Would've ordered and tolerated bullying on anyone who was unnatural and weird looking?

"Would've put them in their place?

Isolate them? Degrade them? Despise them for being alive?" No-one stopped me as I approached him, the teachers separating and making way. Even Mr. Dulrik was regarding me curiously.

I scoffed. " 'If it were me' you said. You think I wouldn't notice how everyone else, that isn't human, was oppressed and treated like shit in this school? It seems to me that you already did what you would've done, didn't you? You are no dean, you are a clown, a pillock, a dumbass, and you call yourself human? You are more monster than any of us in this room."

I breathed heavily as I stood a couple of feet in front of him. His face grew to a crimson hue, my ears catching the sound of smoke seething out of him. At the back, David and Miss Holson were dumbfounded, shocked into place, shaken like ugly statues.

Finally, the dean spoke, his fists clenching hard as he faced me, almost drawing blood.

I am so gonna beat him up. Hell yeah, I will.

"Keep out of trouble if you can." Well, shit happened Mama, forgive me.

"How dare you speak to me like that! I, a pure-blood Silverstone, a line of royalty! If we were still at war I would've had you executed from where you stand—"

"How about you do it yourself then, oh mighty Silverstone jerk?" I mocked and gave a toothy smile, then I remembered he wouldn't see it. That was all it took to have him launching himself at me, the professors running to the sides to avoid his wrath.

His hands were balled tight, a fist aiming for my face, eyes filled with deadly intent.

Oh, he really wants to kill me.

Before it connected, I sidestepped, causing him to stumble forward. Even so, he immediately regained his balance and reached to grab my hoodie. I didn't dodge this time, but before he touched me, I used my right hand to slap it away. With my other hand, fitted with my crimson knuckle dusters, I met his fist with mine. Almost instantly, he stumbled back and crouched down, his left hand holding his bloodied one.

"You bitch!!!" he screamed in agony.

I think I broke his hand.

I glanced to my brass knuckles, some of the blood covering them, merely visible because of its color.

Shattered it perhaps.

"I will have you killed you insolent brat! I'll kill you!" he cursed.

"Now, now, Silverstone, you will do no such thing." A feminine voice cut through the large room. We all turned to the door to see a slim, tall, tanned woman who seemed to be in her 40s, her slightly wrinkled face showing it. She was wearing a black high-waist pencil skirt paired with a black one-button suit and a baby blue undershirt. The lady also wore classic white loafers and white hand gloves made of leather, with her ebony hair tied up in a bun.

Everything about her screams 'important'. I scented an intimidating yet reassuring aura around her.

I met her eyes and a sense of familiarity fell upon me. I know her and I've seen her before.

Wait. Could it be— she's—

"Madame Ernestine!" A professor exclaimed.

That means she's, "The founder," I said out loud.

She began sauntering in my direction, each step clicking on the floor, carrying herself with grace.

"M-Ma-Madame Ernestine!" The dean, shrieked as he stood up, shaking, his busted hand in his chest, his back facing me. "I didn't expect you to visit this year! We could've prepared for your arrival—"

"You shut your mouth now Welmir." She spoke out, her voice firm and borderline hostile. "I've had enough of your blabbering mug. I made it so that my arrival is unexpected. Leaving my outside duties rather early and rushed this year when news got to me that you, the dean, were neglecting your duties, or so, doing it wrong. Not to mention I had my assistant install extra cameras in... certain places last year and because of that, I saw what you did in the shadows. Maybe not all, but it confirmed my suspicions of you, and so," She clapped her together, "I decided to visit you today. And what a surprise it was to see you get beaten up by this lovely young lady behind you."

Me?! Lovely—

My face warmed from her comment.

"Listen here, brat." he regarded the founder. The founder. "I do not know what you are talking about. I have done my duties and more for this university. I made it so that everyone here is safe and this girl,"— he spat— "harmed me, my precious son, and his friends!"

"And all of you deserved it, severely," she responded flatly. "You put my dear students at risk and antagonized them with your schemes, tolerating the behavior of treating other races like animals, disrespecting even the professors who are different in kind," she glanced at Mr. Dulrik and the others. "You even forced a minotaur, an elf, and a dwarven student to act the part of being in a student council, hoping people wouldn't notice the crimes you did behind our backs. Did you expect me to turn blind eye to this?"

It was all pretend?!

The mere thought of what he did to threaten them to it makes me wanna puke.

"I am furious, Welmir Silverstone. To think I believed you'd change your ways after my father's death with the renovation of the institute. Trusted you to do your job as dean and make the students comfortable, welcomed. But, no. You chose to follow his footsteps, became selfish, blinded by greed and pointless hate. You are a disappointment to all of us."

I smelled her rage under that near non-expressive facade of hers. It was spicy, like fire having an odor of its own.

"You are but a child! You know nothing of this world! This world of ours needs to be purged off of those rats. You cannot tell me what to do!" He yelled as he brought up his uninjured hand to hit her. I was about to step in when Madame Ernestine grabbed his arm and threw a right uppercut, blood spilling out of his jaw. The punch sent him a few steps back, he would have landed on me if I didn't move out of the way before he collapsed on the floor groaning and holding his mouth.

Ooh she's strong! Nice! I grinned.

"You are hereby stripped off of your job as dean along with all of your titles, properties, and henceforth banished from these grounds, together with your son and Emma Holson, whom I found out laid with him, and the abusive acts they had engaged in." Her words laced with poison, disgust and anger as she gave the final judgement.

"Never show yourselves. Ever. Again," she spat. "Take them away."

Out of nowhere, men in black suits came in and apprehended the young instructor, who twisted her heel trying to escape. She yelled at them to let her go, saying she has done nothing wrong. David, the bastard, was held in place by one of them as he struggled in their grasp. The dean— or should I say, Mr. Silverstone, in pain and bleeding, was dragged up by two others and headed straight out of the door. He shouted ;

"Mark my words, brat! I will—"

And the door slammed close.

With my gaze following them, my eyes landed on Tai'chi. I took off my dusters and waved, tucking them back up my sleeve.

He is smiling! And oh wow he's damn gorgeous— wait what?

My attention was drawn away to the lady in front of me. I got distracted by Tai'chi that I almost forgot about her.

"Oh my God I uhm— hello Madame Ernestine." I took one step back before bowing. "It's an honor to meet you. I—"

"Oh dear, please raise your head. No need for such formal gestures. I am Valerie Ernestine, founder of the new Ernestine State University." She stated as she beamed at me.

"I uh- Yes ma'am I know of you. I'm quite a fan actually— I mean! My name is Pearl Blackbell, ma'am."

Oh God, that sounded so stupid.

Then she hugged me.

"Ma'am?!" I squeaked. My arms went stiff, nervous to even touch her. Before I could, she pulled back, a gentle expression on her face.

"Nice to meet you, Pearl Blackbell."

"I- nice to meet you too Ma'am Ernestine!" I stammered, praying my face and ears isn't as red as I feel them to be.

"Please, call me Valerie."

"Ma'am Valerie."

"Just Valerie, dear."

"I'm so sorry ma'am but I can't— my mother will hit me in the head with a frying pan if I forget my manners."

"Very well, then. It brings me joy that you were raised properly by your parents."

"Thank you ma'am, I really am happy to have them, and I only hope for them to be proud of me— oh wait. Uh, ma'am Valerie?"

"Yes?"

"Am I gonna get punished or expelled?" I shrunk, expecting the worst.

"Why ever did you think of that?"

"W-Well you see, I did harm uh, students and they're probably in the infirmary right now and—"

"Oh, Pearl, no." She let out a light chuckle. "You won't be punished or even expelled for that! In fact, I saw how you defended yourself and your friend from them. They did attack you first, sweetie. And what you did was impressive!" She clapped her hands. As I stood there in relief, I couldn't help but shot up when the words sank in.

"Oh, thank you. But how...?"

"Apparently, I had my assistant install some cameras in the forest area for particular reasons. I watched you from the monitor as I made my way here," she replied.

"Oh. Oh, wow. That's actually pretty awesome," I sighed.

"Indeed, it is," she smiled. "Excuse me for a bit."

******pov shift to 2nd person (two characters)*****

Madame Ernestine turned and walked towards the remaining teachers to talk about important matters at hand.

"Greetings, my friends." She beamed at the staff and looked at Professor Dulrik and the woman who supported him earlier. "Hello, Roldo and Amila. I have missed you dearly." She bent down to hug the two of them before she went on. "I apologize for not taking action immediately. To think he did this to all of you right under my nose! Why didn't you contact me Roldo?"

"My apologies, Madame Ernestine. I didn't have any proof to show his plot against you and the others. He was very elusive and kept us very busy in our own offices for the past year with you away. That was until today, with the young lady over there standing up against his son, he snapped."

"It really is a good thing she came here, didn't she?" she whispered.

"Indeed, Madame," Amila replied.

There was a brief silence, before Valerie spoke up again. Her gaze locked at the dwarven professor.

"Roldo, my old friend, I want you to take your place as the new dean of this university. I trust you to do your duty a hundred percent better than that impudent man ever did. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"I- Valerie this is-"

"Roldo, you are wise and have seen things most of us here have not. I will not force you on something you do not want, but I put my faith in you, to help me, along with the rest of the staff, to teach everyone here that all of us stand in equal ground, and that we must respect and acknowledge each individual, regardless of their kind. No one, no student, should ever feel uncomfortable in this haven of mine."

"I understand, Valerie." The dwarf took a deep breath and vowed;

"I, Roldo Dulrik, son of Grol II, son of Frerin, accept the responsibilities given to me as dean of Ernestine State University. I will do my duty to the best of my abilities, and remain loyal to you and to this institution." He responded as he thumped his right fist against his chest.

"I know you will, my friend." Valerie grinned at him, her eyes full of trust and hope.

While they were occupied with discussing certain issues, you tried to sneak away, only to be called back by Madame Ernestine.

"Pearl, my dear."

"Yes ma'am?"

"Thank you."

She had a soft smile, emotions clear on her face, directed at you. The founder, Valerie was thanking you for your bravery, kindness and overall honesty. You simply nodded and grinned from ear to ear behind your mask. You were, however, suddenly nervous when Valerie and the two professors approached you. No, actually, all of them were, but the others are heading out of the office, perhaps to go back to their respective classrooms and start working, they gave their thanks as they went out.

"Pearl Blackbell, a wonderful name!" Professor Dulrik remarked. "May the Gods bless you and shine upon you in all your days," he grinned. Before you could reply, Professor Amila hugged you and whispered. "Thank you, for beating up those idiots," —which made you giggle— "It was the right thing to do, and also I had to defend myself. and thank you, Professor Dulrik."

"Nonsense, call me Professor Roldo, lass." He patted your shoulder as he went past you and out of the office, but not before he slapped Tai'chi's forearm.

"You best protect her if you can, lad. Even so, it is obvious she won't need protecting!" He laughed, and went on, quietly, as if whispering. "...Be her friend, my boy. Her eyes...they show the pain she had gone through. You saw that in her, didn't you?"

Tai'chi simply nodded in response. He knew what he meant.

"Then do what you must. If word ever comes to me that you hurt her, I will hunt you down with me battle axe hidden in my office, you hear?"

This time, he chuckled. "I hear you, Professor. I won't. I swear on the the name of my clan, no harm will befall on her." He told him, his voice firm and true.

"That's what I'm talking about, lad!" He replied as he finally exited the room.

Tai'chi shifted his gaze to you. You and the dean were still talking so he stood there, patiently.

"We best be on our way. We still have a number of things to set straight. We will see you around, Miss Blackbell. Don't get into trouble now." The founder giggled.

"I will try my best, ma'am."

"Oh sure you will, sweetie. Goodluck. And oh, the two of you should start going back. It's past lunchbreak afterall." She said as the two ladies sauntered past you and went out.

"Thank you, we will." You said, mostly to yourself.

**************************************

Part 6 will be posted shortly! Like, shortly shortly. Like, an hour or so shortly. Stay tuned! Thank you for reaching this point uwu✨

Tags: @crackinanutshell @kokokatsworld @mitchiesdungeon <3

[allexteriordark]

Can I just ask why you're so interested in the john/dean dynamic? I just never found it interesting, John wasn't in the show enough for me to grow an interest, so I'd like to hear it from your pov :)

@ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty let me start off by saying i cannot possibly explain or phrase this in a way that's better than what others have said.... refer to nikki fearlastyear and bug familyhorror for real 🥴 but i get that you're asking why i'm like this so

i'm gonna put a read more since i'm incapable of being succint. i just rambled on and you'll have to take it because that was enough time spent on this. and like, i might not be satisfied, might not feel like i conveyed what i wanted to, but i don't feel like i can pull anything better out of myself lol and that's okay

and the answer, the relationship i have with my dad is certainly something and i'm projecting 💗 no but the key to dean and john is that a lot of it is off-screen. we're told about the night azazel paid a friendly little visit, about john being a vietnam vet, an ex-marine who just wanted to settle down, about sam and dean's childhood, about dean's problems with identity and self-worth. the show tells us a lot of things about them, just not outright. a lot can be deduced imo!!

the appeal is this: dean was devoted to his father, served him as well as he could, idolized him, despite john being absent and despite how he treated his sons. like,, john was his god. (i don't see this kind of intense devotion often in media when it comes to fathers - or it doesn't do it for me?? why i latched onto them probably has something to do with john's character. anyway,)

i feel like i was shown enough of john to... find him interesting enough to make me think about him and how he raised his boys? from very early on, john was dean's hero. as @familyhorror said, the night mary died intertwined their lives, not just because trauma, but because from that point on they were sharing this mission: protect sam, avenge mary and the sanctity of family.... i'm interested in dean's space in this family, in this unit, when the three of them were together (especially with me having a shitty family like i had to raise my sister and protect her from my parents sometimes. relatability points!!)

i wonder how dean and john operated when sam, the disobedient son, the one who didn't put family first, left them. that was a shared pain, shared betrayal to an extent. and from when sam left to when john went missing, it was just the two of them. that's all dean and john had 🥴 i'm probably definitely underestimating how many friends and acquaintances john had (pastor jim was definitely in the picture from early on..) but the stanford years couldn't be insignificant!! their relationship must have intensified. so they were sergeant and soldier, but also john, broken man on a revenge mission, and dean, his only true companion and provider of comfort.... tugging at john's coat when he was sad (above the clouds of pompeii by bear's den is actually about them just so everyone knows) and telling his dad it'll be okay after he came home from a hunt. dean did that, when he was small o_o i doubt he stopped wanting to care for his dad

sam wasn't elevated to the level in the family dean was elevated to. because dean's the oldest. the parent's supposed to provide the comfort, children can't possibly make good friends for their parents, no matter how much the parent needs a supporter. "i put too much on your shoulders, i made you grow up too fast. you took care of sammy, you took care of me" !!! dean turned into his dad's partner, in a way, because john needed one. total coincidence that my mom also thinks i can care for her like a friend and forgets that i'm her daughter ahaha <3

with mary dead, someone also needed to do the tasks traditionally assigned to like, the mom. i just doubt john always did the laundry and cleaned up when there was a mess and acted as a health care provider and did the dishes, it makes more sense to me that he passed most of the khmm ""duties of a mother"" off to dean... i mean. john definitely didn't do a lot for the comfort of his boys, in the name of nurturing them.... but dean had a baby brother, he had to make things better for his brother, i feel like when john left a spot empty, when something wasn't done, he stepped in. sometimes. this doesn't mean dean was a good wife replacement or that he was the only one who cooked or anything like that lol i'm just saying that dean definitely took on more responsibility than a kid's supposed to and his relationship with his father existed mostly so john's needs would be met. he wasn't just a son to john, that's what i think of them

also once sam left i think john could just, pull dean even deeper, have him be more obedient, on the same page as john - i'm doing this for your perfect angel of a mother and for family and for sammy, i'm doing this to you for your own good, because the world is a dark place and i love you so much. and isn't it interesting, dean thinking the abuse is justified? that john was right to leave them to go on hunts and to move them from motel to motel, eradicating any chance of connection they could've had outside of family and any chance of feeling like they have a home? and of feeling safe.. that's another thing: when dean's a kid all he knows is something killed his mom, there's monsters out there, but dad's gonna make it better :) of course he clung to a perfect image of his father and he stayed with john and modeled himself after his dad. (of course that's interesting to me)

dean loved like his father, learned love from him, because he learned everything else from him too actually, and he became his father. isn't that level of devotion insane. i don't just mean the music, the jacket, the car, or the lifestyle, or the alcoholism and violence later on, i mean more like, the very foundations of who dean is. his morals, his being is based on john. so his entire life his father never left him :) there's something religious about this, and also something that reminds me of platonism: john being the idea of absolute good and true, that dean wants to take inside himself,,, as much of john as possible. he could never be good and heroic enough though (the american hero he was trying to measure up to is like. not real ofc). dean sold his soul for sam, even though that's what john did for him and it was a terrible burden, to be saved, through sacrifice, but he couldn't help it :) and he comes back from hell and is told that his father lasted longer, could withstand more, he'll never be the hero john was.

so, the abuse was passed on (dean violating sam's autonomy because he can't live without sam, and, other stuff like that. i couldn't list everything dean did that was fucked up <3) and the selling your soul for your family, for your kid, was passed on!! horrific, turning into your parent and fucking someone up the same way they fucked you up. i'm very compelled by the winchester family and what they do to each other, because, that's family, to me at least, it's horrendous and the only thing that matters :/

and this is the part where i talk about my dad 🤪 so get this: i fucking hate him. i despise him, i want him dead, the intensity of it scares me. he turns me into something ugly! i can't forgive him and there's really nothing to salvage here, in what i have with him, and i've thought about it a lot. for a while i thought, okay, then i just let him go, see, it's done, i don't care about him, no more pain!! he's nothing to me he can't hurt me! but then turns out that i can't do that, because now that he's dead to me, i have to mourn him. i can't let go, family doesn't work like that! haha silly me!

so i miss the father i never had, and will never have, so much. it's worse that i have no connection to him, in a way, than if it was a love-hate thing. i think it makes sense that i'd latch onto dean winchester's intense connection to his father. i'm envious as fuck :)) <3

i hope you got a bit of a look into what compels me about dean and john. if you have any questions though, if something wasn't clear, i'm happy to explain anything!!

[the-trashy-phoenix]

Supernatural season 1 review (part 2)

Link to part 1:

The good thing about deciding to rewatch a show that I started five years ago is that I barely remember what happens in the first seasons. I know of course the big events, but if you asked me how each episode ends I wouldn't know how to respond, so watching it for the second time, in some ways, has been like watching it for the first time. What really changed about it is the fact that now I know what happens later in the other seasons, I know who the protagonists will become and what they will struggle with and I myself am different from the 15-year-old I was while watching it for the first time.

Five years ago I liked season 1, but I couldn't say it was one of my favourites, mostly because of the lack of interaction the two brothers have with any other important character. Yes, they have their father (who I'll talk about later) and in the last episode there's also Bobby (at that point, during the rewatch, I thought he would have never made an appearance in the first season, fortunately I was wrong), but besides them they just have each other throughout the entire season. As I rewatched it the feeling remained the same, but I think I have enjoyed this season more than I did before. Was it because I was already passionate about them? Or because I know it sets up the basics of the show and introduces some links to the next seasons? Or because, knowing already what would happen, I could focus on each episode more? One thing I noticed indeed is that these first episodes have a good storyline, besides the main one (which is not that complex if you compare it with the ones that come next): the little plots are interesting and quite original, and even if I already knew that the two boys would make it I'd still be very anxious about what would eventually happen to them. Later in the most recent seasons I couldn't get the same feeling about the episodes that revolved around a specific case, but I think the main reason why I couldn't get as involved is because the main plot becomes way more important than the single case and obviously the attention of the show is totally shifted to it (but I still think there are lots of great single episodes in the most recent seasons).

Now I feel like I need to talk about the characters. When I watched the show for the first time I didn't really love John Winchester, but now that I rewatched it, supposedly more conscious, I can't stand him. You can see he has good intentions: he loves Sam and Dean and he wants to protect them. The thing that just makes me dislike him is the fact that he does it in the wrong way. He's not a good father, even if he cares about them: who would let their children by themselves to go hunting and maybe to never come back? Who would let his oldest child become the father and mother figure for his younger brother just because they couldn't do it themselves? Who would let his child start hunting when he's too young to even hold a weapon? Who wouldn't answer the phone when they know their children might think they're dead? And who claims they want to protect their children and yet sends them on hunts? The fight he had with Sam before his son went to college seems the least disturbing thing to me.

Talking about Sam, I think he's the one I like the most in this season. First of all he doesn't give a shit about his dad's opinion and we love it, second of all he has all of the good reasons to do it: why would he listen to someone who had prioritised his desire for revenge over his love for his children? I also adore the fact that he doesn't follow his father's rules until he knows their purpose, almost as if he doesn't trust him completely, meanwhile I feel like he would follow Dean's plans more easily without questioning them. The separation from his father seems to me a good thing for Sam, since I feel like he has also detached from some of John's principles that I wouldn't agree with (I'm mostly talking about the boss-attitude he has towards the boys and the extremely masculine side he priorities for himself and for his children, but there could be other things we don't necessarily see that have shaped his most attached child's personality and prospective, just saying). Overall you can tell this first season was more focused on Sam than on Dean. He is the different brother, the rebellious one, and the one who also has psychics ability (which I totally forgot about by the way, as long with his justified obsession for Jessica's loss, which apparently is a thing that still goes on in the last season). Dean at first on the other hand could seem like the ideal child for a person like their father.

Since I've watched this show Dean has always been my favourite character. I don't really know what made me fall in love, since I usually can't stand people who have his type of personality (especially the personality he has in the first season). I think what makes me like him the most, apart from his beautiful appearance, is the fact that, while Sam's character is already exposed and has already shown a lot of depth, Dean’s one is kept somehow in the surface (probably because Sam seems the real protagonist): we see him as the classical masculine guy who just wants to go hunting, drive his car and fuck some ladies (which, I mean, isn't entirely wrong, and I think nowadays the last point, portrayed as it was in Supernatural, would be considered extremely rude and with every right to do it), but at the same time there are tiny moments when he lets us see his others sides which he tries desperately to hide deeply. And what he tries to hide the most are, of course, his feelings: his love for his brother and his family, his fear of losing the people he cares about and even his love (or deeply affection) towards Cassie (a girl I completely forgot about, again, and that I really liked, especially for the name). I feel like what sculpted Dean and made him the boy he was in the first season was mostly his father: he was the man Dean has always tried to copy and follow, and it's not surprising at all that this is who he became. He pictures himself as a soldier who has to hunt in order to please his father and as a big brother whose only purpose is to make sure his little brother is okay. Don't get me wrong, these traits are important to this character, but I think there is much more to know about him.

And this is what really intrigues me about Dean; his complexity, his contraddictions and his constant torment between what he thinks he should do and what he really wants to do. Speaking of that, I really love when, during his dad and Sam's fights, he tries to calm them down, showing his care for them, but at the end of the day he stays on Sam's side, proving he will eventually always protect him.

And that leads us to the last thing I want to talk about in this already eternal review: the two brothers. They're what carries most of the show and all of season one (because, let's be honest, when you understand their father is being a dick you stop to care about what happens to him).

I love their relationship; it's not perfect at all, especially in the first seasons. They lie to each other, they fight, they keep secrets from themselves, they prank each other (which is the best thing they do), but they love each other endlessly, and you can tell it from the start: they would do anything for the other one (that doesn't mean I ship them though) and the other's well-being is the first thing that matters to them. After all you can already tell this show is mainly about the two brothers' relationship (although I think there is also much more to look forward to).

- Carly 💚

[sunflwrsjustdied]

Chapter 2 - The Phone Call.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I did not write this story as a way to fetishize children having children. It is not about that. I wrote this story because I wondered what it would be like if Harry had a son, who also became a celebrity during Harry’s career. In order for the age of Harry’s sons to fit the career timeline I had to lower the age of Harry. I do not believe that children having children is a good thing nor do I try to fetishize it. I understand that this topic may be disturbing or disgusting to some people. If you do not like the idea of this story, then you don’t need to read it.

[Harry Styles sitting next to Ben Andrews (Lux’s cousin]

October.28.2012 London, England

•Harry• "Hello, Benjamin." Noah greeted Lux's cousin, Ben looked up shyly before mumbling a hi and then looking down.

"You're quite intimidating." I chuckled, seeing he made Ben, who was talking to everyone go quiet. He had the same effect on the hostess.

"Good." He mumbled, sitting down in the seat, he loved that feeling. No one wanting to talk to him out fear. Just a 9-year-old boy who made everyone terrified and thrived off of it.

I never understood why, but there were many people who got highly intimidated of him. For years people told me that 'the way he stands screams danger'.

He's been like this ever since primary school, daycare even. A real tough guy that got every girl attracted to him, even if they were just 4-years-old.

His first fight was at 2-years-old, it started off as a yelling match, until Noah threw punches at the boy who was a year older then him, all over a simple wooden block. The fight result in Noah getting a "red card" from his disturbed daycare teacher and a 3-year-old with a bloody lip.

If someone were to come between him and his persona, something so powerful will arise in him. He'll curse at them, throw things, anything to show them who they've messed with.

That made Noah who he was.

It showed how much he needed to like and trust you in order for vulnerability to show. Some people called him mysterious after this trait.

What a great combination, mysterious and dangerous. Described the 142 centimeter boy perfectly.

I never encouraged, nor discouraged his hunger for being persuaded that way. But it was never an act either, it was truly how Noah was, he's always been like that and he always will be.

I may not understand other peoples perspectives of him, but I could see where they were coming from in a way.

He was the most stereotypical boy you could ever meet. He looks at every girl, he runs around without a shirt on, he swears, he fights, he played every sport he could think of when he was younger. His most favourite sport of all time being baseball, followed by ice hockey. And he played both from when he was a toddler until he was 7. Anything boys "typically did" he did it all because it was the way of his personality.

Noah took a seat in-between Tom and I, he rested his elbow on the table and ran his hand throw his hair, I noticed his eyes would glance over at Ben with almost a look of jealousy in his eyes.

Oh.

Ben was sitting to the left of me. Ever since Noah was a baby, he always sat to the left of me at restaurants. Everyone in our family knew it and consciously never sat there, but a 4-year-old boy wouldn't know that.

"Noah!" Lux giggled, pointing to him trying to get out of Lou's lap, Lou gave Noah a look asking if she could go to him. Noah nodded and Lux ran over to him.

"Hello Luxie," Noah smiled lifting her into his lap.

Everyone talked waiting for the waitress.

She came eventually, but when she got to Noah, she stuttered, almost taken aback. "Wow, you're eyes are so blue. Oh God, I'm sorry. I've just never seen that before, " she said mesmerized.

"Thanks," Noah stared directly into her eyes, on purpose. "Sorry, um what can I get you?" "Fish and chips please."

• • •

"Dad, hide me please," Noah whispered, panic in his voice. "What, Why?" Harry frowned confused by his sons actions, "That waitress, I know her, now hide me! Don't draw attention."

"Who, her?" Tom nodded to the woman who was walking over to the table, specifically right behind Noah's chair.

Noah nodded, sinking in his chair and cover the side of his face.

"Hello, Noah." She smiled, her British accent was thick, "How's it going?"

"It's going great," Noah swallowed hard, his knee starting to bounce up and down.

"My daughter's still waiting on that call from you," She said, "And I'm still waiting for my phone to get fixed Lucy," Noah said with gritted teeth.

"It's been almost 2 months, how long can it take?" Lucy raised her eyebrow.

"As long as it needs to be fixed again." Noah replied, jaw clentched.

"Here's her number again, just in case you forget it," She immediately took out her pen and pad, writing on it fast, and handing it to him.

"Never- never in my life have I seen someone try to get their daughter to date someone so bad," Noah grunted, taking the paper and shook his head,

"Some parents want what's best for their children Noah, and I see that your are. Or to you, I'm a bad mother for that right?" Lucy frowned at Noah, trying to make him feel bad.

"We're nine- That's not even- I don't even remember her name Lucy." Noah sighed trying to argue but giving up, "It's Sabrina, Sabrina McCullen." Lucy smiled knowing she was breaking Noah to say yes.

"Just give my daughter a chance, she's a model too, maybe that'll somewhat change your mind." Noah's eyes did perk up hearing the information, "I told you, when the phones fixed," he smiled fake and widely, "Now have a nice day."

"We'll be waiting," Lucy walked off, and that's when Noah groaned, slouching down in his seat, about to crumple the paper.

"Keep it son, you'll need it." Noah looked up to his father with discomfort in his eyes, before putting it in his pocket.

"Who was that?" Tom asked, "I met her here a few months ago and a few times after that, she wouldn't shut up about how her daughter was my age and that we should date."

"She gave me her daughters number, so I told her my phone was broken and when it got fixed then I'd give her call."

"But Noah, your phone works perfectly, why haven't you?" Harry questioned, earning a glare from Noah, "Not what she thinks is it? If she knew that, she would probably try to get mine and I don't want that."

"Just call her, you never know," Harry suggested, "Yeah, if she's anything like her mother, I'll know for sure," Noah shook his head sighing.

"I'm surprised, I've never known my son to give up a chance with a girl," Harry chuckled, "Well almost every girl I don't meet through her annoying mother."

"Wait, are you saying, Noah is scared of someone? The Noah Styles, scared of someone?" Lou said in a some what genuinely shocked voice, earning an eye roll from Noah.

"No, I'm not scared of her, it's called avoiding someone you don't have an interest in someone."

A phone then started to ring at the table, "Oh Noah, it can't be yours. Yours is broken." Lucy said walking with the drinks our table ordered prior to our last order, along with another waitress.

Noah took in a deep breathe through his nose and let it out the same way, a look of annoyance on his features as he looked at a smirking Tom.

"I'm sorry, I need to take this." John apologized, looking at his phone and excusing himself and walking away from the table.

"You see what I mean," Noah said through gritted teeth, after she left, "Imagine having to see and hear that every time you visit your girlfriend."

"God I can hear it now. 'I'm the one who put you two together'. Probably trying to use my modelling career to make her daughter famous." Noah

"Then if you're not scared why don't you tell her that? Say you're not interested." Tom asked, intrigued, "Because I'm not that much of an asshole." Noah responded bluntly, "Hey, watch it," Harry scolded, knowing there was a much younger child sitting next to me and he nodded to him.

You'd think Harry would scold his son for swearing in general but boy did he give up on that a long time ago.

"It's fine, Harry," Dean, Lux's uncle and Ben's father laughed, "He's heard worse."

"But Noah, give her a chance, so what? Like you said you're just nine. It's not it will be long term and you're going to get married next week." Dean said, "Well to Lucy is it!" Noah grunted, "Aw, come on Noah. You never know," I smirked, "I'll think about it." Noah mumbled.

"Now can we please take about something else? God knows she listening or spiked my drink." Noah groaned, "Yes," Tom said and began talking to him about football.

•Harry• I saw John walk towards my chair, "Harry, I need to talk to you," John said quietly into my ear, I nodded "Sure," and followed him to the foyer.

"That was a call from a director, it was for Noah." He said to me, his demeanour serious.

I nodded, listening. "The director wants to meet him, and maybe cast him for a lead role. This is very important for Noah and his career," He explained. "But we both don't want to schedule a meeting unless you, Rose, or both of you give permission for it to happen."

"So Harry, would he be allowed to go to the audition?" He asked, "Well of course," I told him, without hesitation, "If it's something he'll want to do." Who I was kidding, Noah loved acting, and his first lead role in a movie would be amazing.

"Schedule it right now." I told him

"They said we could pick the date, but within now or next month. No later." "Where?" "New York." "Ok, ask if they're available for November 12."

"We'll be there around that time, and then we're leaving the next day. That's a good time to do it." John nodded and began to call the director back, telling him the details as well as listening to the directors.

After saying goodbye, he hung up the phone, "It's settled then. New York City, November 12. I'll talk to Noah later."

We both walked back to the table.

• • •

Dinner was finished, everyone was either talking or on their phones. Noah chose to be on his phone, what a mistake that was.

Lucy walked by the table, "So Noah," Noah jumped in his seat, startled by her sudden presence behind him, "Guess you got that phone fixed?" Noah swore he could just scream and yell at her, he was about to, so close to, until-

"It's actually my phone," Tom looked at her, grabbing the white iPhone 4S from Noah's hand, Lucy huffed and walked away.

"Oh my God, thank you. I was close to strangling her,"

• • •

It was late. Harry and Noah had just got home.

Noah was in room, emptying his pants pockets, and pulled out the stupid piece of paper. throwing it on the bed.

After brushing his teeth, Noah sat on his bed, picking up his phone and the paper. He sighed, looking in-between both objects. Fighting himself if he should just call her or not. Noah sighed going into his contacts and putting her name and number into his phone.

"Maybe one day," he mumbled tossing the note into his nightstand drawer.

[distrackles]

Resistance: Part 2

Dean Winchester x OFC

MASTERLIST

Loathe /verb/ : feel intense dislike or disgust for.

- B o -

My wrists were raw, and my arms finally stopped buzzing with pins and needles and have gone to no feeling at all. Except for the fact that the dead weight of them felt even heavier. Any blood on my skin was now dry and crusted into patches. The room was silent, but it made me feel less alone than I would with sound. I guess it turned out that Sam and I were slightly underestimating how many vampires were in the nest. I can briefly remember sneaking into the old home with Riley slightly behind me. I can still hear her yelling out for me when I had my back turned. I still feel the scrapes around my waist and the grip marks up and down my torso from where I struggled against the son of a bitch. Despite all of that, I am unable to shake the anxiety of not knowing if Riley is okay. Without being able to resist the pain surrounding me, my brain decides to end its thought process, and it's lights out.

- D e a n -

I didn't know what time it was when Sam was repeatedly pushing me to wake up. At first, his voice sounded muffled and far away, but as the words started to comprehend in my mind, I was wide awake.

"What did you just say?" I bark out at him with the gruff voice sleep tends to give me. Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes, he must have figured I hadn't been totally aware the whole time he was speaking.

"Bobby called," He gives a pause to see if I'm really listening this time, he continues when I give a nod. "The girls, Bo and Riley, haven't called him back since before going into the vamp nest." I make a hand gesture to give off a "what is your point here?" message.

"Jesus Dean, he's worried about them, it's been a few days and he wants us to check everything out since we're closer." After that, it takes us about fifteen minutes to get on the road and back towards that small, dreadful town. Sam rattles off directions here and there to get us where we are supposed to be, and we are at our destination by the evening.

By the time we get ourselves quietly into the house we both know that there has to be multiple vampires in there just by sound. I gesture for Sam to go one way down the hall and I point towards the downstairs doorway that I am going down.

- B o -

I don't know how many hours or days I was out for, but when I wake up it is to the sound of clashing and a familiar voice yelling something along the lines of  "suck on this, you son of a bitch!". It was the first time I felt relieved to hear that voice. And it was also the first time I cracked a bit of a smile in however long we've been here.

I give several attempts at screaming, but it takes me a minute of swallowing a bunch before my throat is wet enough to speak. As soon as I get the chance, I yell out Dean's name. There is more crashing after I hear him call back to me. While I could only wait, I hoped that Sam had come along too, and that he was taking care of Riley because that would give me a second chance to get out of here. Not that I didn't believe Dean could handle this at all, but you never know. When the door finally creaked open, it happened so slow that I thought it was gonna be a vampire instead of Dean. But then I saw his face as he came closer, and it didn't look like the same cocky Dean that was content with himself that I had met days ago. His features were taut, eyebrows frowning at me, and his jaw protruding with how tight his teeth were clenched. In addition to that, he had the glistening crimson blood down the side of his face in contrast to his fair skin.

His hands go up to the ropes around my wrists, with a machete in one, and he cuts my arms down. I almost fall to my knees as soon as my feet hit the ground, but he was ready to catch me before that could happen. Wrapping one arm around the bottom of my back, he holds me up against him so he can untie the remaining rope attaching my hands together. Once they are separated and I have gained my footing back, he looks me over the same way Riley would do. His angry eyes search for any evident injuries that are in need of attention, but luckily none are visible, which saves me the extra embarrassment. He moves himself partially behind me, and rests a rather gentle hand on my back, nudging me to walk out of the room and up the stairs. His hand doesn't leave my back until we are outside and in sight of Riley and Sam.

Riley immediately leaves Sam's side and pulls me into an embrace that speaks louder than any words can describe. We both can tell each other that we're okay just by a single pat of the back or a squeeze of a shoulder.

"You're alright." Her statement comes out with a questioning undertone.

"We can talk about it when we get home." I say quietly to her. Riley nods and turns back to Sam and Dean. As she proceeds to thank them both, Dean is looking at me over her head, and I can't bring myself to look away. The only reason I do is because I hear Riley utter something about inviting them to stay at our house for the weekend.

"Yeah, that sounds easier than going all the way back to Kansas right away, Dean?" Sam asks, and the pressure of Dean's gaze is removed from my head. His reply is a simple shrug and nod. Our house was about an hour and a half away from the town that the nest was in, that's why Bobby called us about it. I figured the boys just heard about it from news articles. Riley parks her car in the single garage of our home and lets Dean park in the driveway. We head in through the door connected to the garage and I let Riley take on assigning Sam and Dean a place to crash, as I head upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. After ten minutes of me standing in the mirror with a sports bra and my dirty jeans on, someone knocks on the door. I straighten out from my twisted position that I was in from trying to see all of the scratches, and open the door.

Dean scratches the back of his neck and gestures behind him towards the stairs. "Sam offered to help Riley patch herself up and she let him, so I was wondering if you needed uh- help?" He shifts his weight from one leg to the other as I blink at him.

"I think I'm okay, thanks." I turn back towards the inside of the bathroom, and he sucks in a breath at the sight of my back. And I know he didn't do that because he was particularly attracted to my back, but because I could feel the dry feeling of old blood somewhere on there and he got the first view of the wound.

"How do you plan on patching that up on your own?" He questions amusedly and I shoot him a dark look.

"I'll figure it out." I say defensively and he laughs, taking a seat on the lidded toilet.

"I'd love to see that." He smirks, and I'm temporarily back to loathing him. I twist back around to try and position my back into view of the mirror, but also not too far to where I won't be able to turn my head to see it. With a quick glance in the glass, I can see Dean looking back at me, face still smeared with blood, but a goofy smile forming his lips.

"It's not funny." My voice is stern and offended at the same time. Dean stands up, goes to the counter-top, and picks up some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad.

"Didn't say it was." He defends himself, lifting the contents in his hand questioningly. I sigh and straddle the toilet seat, so he now has access to my back. First, he presses a wet washcloth to the wound to wipe away the blood, but when he starts applying the alcohol soaked cotton to it, I wince and hiss. Dean mutters an empty apology, and his arm comes over my head to the open cupboard above the toilet where the stitching material is.

"Need something to bite on?" He teases and I shake my head, and he starts stitching the wound together. It took a good ten minutes of whimpers held back in my throat until he finally finishes. I sense his lingering pause before he gets off his knees, and puts all of the medical supplies away.

"Thank you." I say quietly, only slightly hoping he didn't hear me, but he did. And when I move to leave the bathroom, he blocks me. Our bodies are very close to touching, they might as well be since I can feel his breath and body heat radiating off of him. I look up at him with a questioning look.

"That could have been an even closer call than it was, you know?" His amused face has changed back to the serious one he had hours ago. My head nods in agreement before he continues.

"I know that I already said we have some things in common, and not asking for help is probably the worst thing we got."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we have Bobby in common too, yeah?" I give a small smile, before slipping past him and into the hallway. When I get close to my bedroom, I glance back to see him still standing by the bathroom. After taking a quick second to make my next decision, I nudge my head in a welcoming gesture. Dean makes his way towards me, as I disappear into my bedroom he follows behind.

"Instead of making you sleep on the couch, we can share the bed, I trust that you're not gonna kill me in my sleep." As I rotate a pillow so that it is vertical on the mattress, to create a small barrier between one side of the bed to the other, I think what sleep? Dean had chuckled lightly at my comment and shook his head. He strips off a couple layers of clothes until he's in a black t-shirt. When he goes to get onto one side of the bed, I clear my throat loudly.

"What?" Dean asks, pausing his actions.

"You are not getting into my bed with those nasty ass pants on." He puts his hands up defensively and has no issue pulling his pants off, before getting in bed. I won't lie, it wasn't a bad sight to see.

Going to the bathroom, I take clothes to change into for bed and brush my teeth, wrapping my hair up in a knot on top of my head. When I get back to my room, Dean is already out cold. I leave the bedside lamp on as I get in bed beside him.  For the first time in what feels like my whole life, I fall into a deep, and comfortable sleep.

[mittensmorgul]

I can't respond to your reply directly for some reason, but thank you. I saw that post after I'd sent you the ask, and have reblogged a few iterations of it, including your addition now. It's exactly the kind of meta I've been wanting to see. I am hopeless at meta-ing myself, but I always appreciate your perspective. Thank you so much for taking the time to respond to this.

Note: this reply is regarding this post:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/167142803515/about-anger-and-reality

Excellent! Yeah, I’d been meaning to write something, and most of what I’d been seeing did seem too extreme for me one way or the other. I was hoping to find something more balanced and objective, and I know we’re going to have more to say on the subject as the season goes on, just like we did with Mary last season.

Season 12 started with “Mom?” and s13 started with “Father?” It only makes sense. :P

One thing I haven’t really seen commented on yet is this:

Sam: Dean, what's up with all the orders, you're starting to sound like Dad.Dean: Is that a bad thing?Sam: You're saying his drill sergeant act worked with you, but it didn't with me. And that's not the way we're gonna get through to Jack.Dean: Look, you wanted the kid here, he's here. Alright? But I'm not gonna hold his hand and tuck him in at night, pass. I'm not gonna be his mother and neither are you. And the kid can dig, so I give him that.

And I really should... because Sam specifically accuses Dean of sounding like Dad, and Dean counters with a jab about not being his MOTHER. I think that’s pretty significant here, and in addition to the different ways that Sam and Dean experienced John’s parenting (and the fact that Sam doesn’t seem to recognize that the way Dean most frequently treated HIM was not as a father figure, but as a MOTHER figure, and THAT is what Sam is continually pressuring Dean to do for JACK, despite Dean’s repeated insistence that he is not willing to do that again).

(heck at this point typing I realized I’m actually writing that meta, and will probably end up posting this instead of just replying privately again... >.>)

I think part of Sam’s failure to engage with Mary AS A MOTHER is that he doesn’t understand that that’s the role DEAN filled for him for most of his life. I mean, you can hardly blame him, but his whole life what he thought of as a BROTHER had also been serving the role of MOTHER and FATHER to him. He has a difficult time adjusting to the fact that some of the emotional labor Dean provided for him as a child is just not normal brother stuff.

And Sam doesn’t understand that he’s STILL reacting to Dean the way a child would to a parent. He knows John’s “drill sergeant” routine, but in a VERY DIFFERENT way that Dean experienced it (touched on in that other post). And Dean (to me, and outside observer) Dean didn’t seem particularly “drill sergeant-y” there, just emotionally detached. Jack wanted to help, Sam wanted to find a way for Jack to help, so Dean gave him something to do that would help. That’s how Dean’s seeing the situation.

But to Sam, if Dean’s “parenting style” doesn’t match the sort of care and investment Dean showed HIM as a kid, he’s seeing it as some sort of brother-level failure, while Dean sees it more as a refusal to provide all the emotional labor of a MOTHER to Jack... and really, good on him for standing up for himself.

So while I said it’s not Sam’s FAULT that he doesn’t understand the burden of “motherhood” he’s attempting to shovel onto Dean (because again, he thinks of all that stuff as “brother stuff”), or why Dean is fighting so hard against taking that emotional burden on for not just a complete stranger but a being with an undefined and potentially terrifying set of powers at his disposal IN ADDITION to being (in Dean’s mind) the primary cause of Cas’s death... I mean, Dean’s got A LOT of extremely valid reasons for wanting to stay the hell out of that whole situation.

Meanwhile, SAM is the one who (throughout 13.03) was displaying some pretty startingly John-like behavior toward Jack... if you want to see some genuine drill sergeant behavior, just rewatch Sam’s “training sessions” with Jack. They’re complete with emotional manipulation, insensitivity, and a complete lack of empathy. Thank heck Sam finally saw what his demands for results were actually doing to Jack and apologized, but it took Dean breaking down and calling Sam out at the end of the episode to make Sam see the full extent of what he was doing with Jack (we didn’t lie, we avoided certain truths to manipulate you).

I know there’s also been a lot written on the fact that Sam has largely failed to build and maintain his own relationships with people outside of Dean’s “primary relationship” status with anyone, and that it’s been said he doesn’t trust his own ability to make good choices in relationships and therefore doesn’t even try anymore... but I don’t think Sam is entirely blameless in this (nor is he entirely at fault).

He was deceived and manipulated by Ruby, so that’s not a particularly relevant comparison, but his two primary relationships shared one shocking commonality. With both Jess and Amelia, the entire relationship was built on a lie. Sam never told EITHER of them who he was and what he’s done. He’s never tried to build an actually HONEST relationship with someone on his own, outside of Dean. It’s why I was so freaking thrilled when he came out with the “something, with someone, someone who understands the life” in 11.04. Because YES Sam, that’s how you build a relationship with someone. Not by cutting out 90% of who you are and never revealing any of that to the other person.

I feel like I’ve wandered really far afield here... but heck, I mean, talk about a John-like behavior. John’s whole hidden relationship with Adam, keeping that entire life separate from Sam and Dean and hunting. But again, that’s kinda the same move Mary pulled with hunting regarding her entire relationship with John. Sure, it was all done in the name of keeping their loved ones “safe” and “out of that life” that they felt trapped by just by KNOWING about the monsters and demons and all the horrors they lived with... but really that’s the sort of burden you can’t carry through a healthy relationship with anyone.

Obviously that wasn’t standing in the way of Sam developing the sort of relationship he wanted to with Mary, and Mary had a lot of the same issues with relationship maintenance that Sam does (plus their whole mutual fear/guilt/loss thing), but I think a lot of Sam’s personal issues stem from the fact that he just doesn’t understand how much of his relationship with Dean actually falls into a Mother/Son dynamic and not a normal, healthy brother dynamic.

I’m just relieved that DEAN is beginning to understand it. It’s progress.

[charlie-minion]

Also: The camera switches to Dean's face. During the "I love all of you" Cas' voice is a lot more steady, he looks up to Sam (I think), but his eyes dart straight back to Dean (who seems to be trying to say something). One other thing! Cas' didn't say "I love you. All of you", she made two independent sentences, as though he tried to show that he was talking about two different things. But I am no meta writer, so I'd love to know what you think about it.(sry for any English faults btw) 2/2

Hello,dear! I believe you sent me two messages (because of the 2/2), butunfortunately I never received message number 1. However, let’s talk about theinfamous “I love you” you mentioned in this message.  

In someoneelse’s post about that specific scene that I reblogged probably a day after theepisode aired, I said that when Cas first said “I love you”, I understood it ashis way of expressing his feelings for the three Winchesters present. However, WHY INTHE NAME OF CHUCK DID CAS FEEL THE NEED TO CLARIFY HIS “I LOVE YOU”?

The momenthe said “I love all of you”, I had to stop and think for a moment. That simplesentence completely changed the meaning of the first one. It’s obvious that Casfelt he needed to clarify because the first “I love you” wasn’t clear enough.That was an incredibly ambiguous scene because there are three ways in which wecould read the whole thing:

Interpretation1: When Cas said “I love you” he meant the three of them, but he thought thatbecause his history with Mary is very brief compared to the one he has with thebrothers, she wouldn’t think his statement included her. That’s why he wantedto make sure she understood that he loves HERas much as he loves her sons.

Interpretation2: When Cas said “I love you” he meant the three of them, but he thought thatboth Sam and Mary wouldn’t think they were included there because of the moreprofound bond he shares with Dean. That’s why he wanted to ensure that allthree Winchesters knew they mean a lot to him, not just Dean.

Interpretation3: When Cas said “I love you” he said it for Dean, but then he wanted to extendthe feeling to the rest of his family because he wanted them to know the threeof them were important to him.

Theaudience was in charge of deciding which interpretation they preferred. Thepeople who can’t pick up on any kind of subtext probably thought the first “Ilove you” was for Dean and Sam and the clarification was meant to include Mary. On the contrary, the biggestDestiel shippers probably picked the third interpretation, the one inwhich the first “I love you” was meant for Dean.

Althoughthe three interpretations are equally valid, the first one makes more senseonly in text. When you watch the scene, though, the third interpretation ismore logical. Why do I say that? It’s just that when Cas starts giving hisspeech, he has no trouble looking at the three Winchesters. His eyes go from Sam to Dean to Maryand over again. He doesn’t keep eye contact with any of them for too longbut looks at the three of them. Even when he says, “You’re my family”, he looksat Sam, then at Dean, then at Mary, but then he does this:

He can’tmeet anybody’s eyes! Why does Cas avoid eye contact?

Besides, asyou pointed out, the camera immediately switches to Dean. Why? Why would theydo that?

When Cassays “I love all of you”, he doesn’t look at the three of them as he did whenhe said they were his family. He just briefly looks at Sam and then keeps eyecontact with Dean like this:

And Dean’sreaction? He looks like he just figured out what Cas meant (just as the rest ofus did):

If we justread the transcript of the episode, we may interpret Cas’ lines differently. Thething is that the camera shots, Misha’s and Jensen’s acting choices, all thatcontribute to a Destiel-friendly interpretation of the whole thing. 

Let’s alsoremember that only two episodes before, Dean was kinda established as Castiel’shuman weakness (AGAIN). Just two episodes before we learned that angels canhave feelings for humans.

In conclusion, we’re notdelusional. We’re just reading the signs that the writers, directors, actors,and editors are putting there.

If peopledecide they prefer interpretation 2 that I mentioned above, it’s stillDestiel-friendly. It still means Cas himself thinks that if he says “I love you”when Dean is present, people won’t include themselves in the statement because theywill think that Cas means only Dean. Cas feels he needs to clarify who he meansbecause people will associate Cas’ I love you to Dean for default.

Personally,I’m OK with interpretations 2 and 3, but I’ll stick with the third one becauseit’s the one that makes more sense when you’re actually watching the scenewithout wearing heteronormative goggles.