#also like he's already got an in with 911 folks

[bigassbowlingballhead]

Tzp in 911 playing another fireman when

listen LISTEN LISTEN

it's all i need in my life. his slutty little waist in a fireman's uniform, with his hand on his hips and fingertips nearly touching.

put him with eddie diaz idc, i'll forget all about buddie for ryan and taylor to be on screen together AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

Taylor's big hands on Ryan's big ass?????

my god

[thefixations-ofmine]

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard AU (911)

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: age gap, blowjob (m receiving), rimming, pet names

Summary: Former high school football star Evan Buckley navigates his new adult life. A broken down car takes him to the nearest body shop, where a very handsome 30-something mechanic catches his eye - and he's good with his hands too!

A/N: Yay, a new fic! This has been sitting in my head for a while and I finally put it down into words after seeing this manip photo of Oliver with longer hair. Sadly, I put aside some things I had already started, but I'm happy to get more work out there! Constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist

“Helping number 36!” A young lady announces over the intercom. A shared gasp fills the room at the loud intrusion, and everyone has a look at their ticket. Evan sighs finally! He walks into the service area and heads to where an assistant is waiting to get his ticket.

“36?” A short man in glasses questions.

“That’s me! I’m Evan,” he answers with a handshake.

“Great, Evan. What brings you in today?”

He goes on for a solid fifteen minutes about all the troubles with his car. From the screeching breaks to the clicking steering and so on. His folks couldn’t afford a new car for when he got his license, and with their money and his combined, a deadbeat ‘64 Buick Skylark was all he could get - while still looking badass. It got him from point A to point B, albeit all the times he had to stop to nudge something back in place or to make sure the oil level was still right. He was saving to get himself a car that was at least of the decade, but it was proving longer than initially planned with all the fixing and maintenance on this one.

“Well, we have a really great old school mechanic, and an open schedule, so we can actually get started today if you’d like!” The assistant states, and proceeds to give him a rundown of the costs. Evan nods and runs back to his car to back it into a garage spot.

“Little further!” He hears a voice call from behind the trunk, unable to see the face of the man in the mirror. “Alright!” He adds waving his hands, and Evan breaks abruptly. He gets out of the car and starts rambling about what needs to be fixed, until a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“We’ve got it, kid.” The deep voice says again, and Evan turns this time, getting a first look at his face. And what a face! He’s surprised at first that he has to look up at him (even for just a few inches), and he rapidly gets lost in his striking blue eyes. “We’ll take care of it like it’s our own,” the mystery man says, bringing Evan back to reality.

“Um, thanks. Yeah, that would be, um, great!” He’s met with a reassuring smile, crinkly nose and all. He smiles back, trying to act as cool.

“I see you play,” Tommy (Evan remembered he could read for a second and saw his name tag) tries to start a conversation, pointing at the high school logo on his t-shirt. He nods. Tommy laughs. “I also used to a few years back. Same high school. Didn’t stick though, I was good with my hands but for different reasons.” If the blush on Evan’s cheeks wasn’t already apparent, that last statement accompanied by a wink surely painted his face a lovely crimson shade. If anything, it keeps Evan from telling him he actually graduated last year, but that’s besides the point.

He lets his eyes wander on the man’s body as he walks around to the hood; he guesses he’s around thirty. His thick veiny hands run along the metal, and thicker, veinier arms struggle to stay contained in the white t-shirt, proving he did in fact play sports in his youth. He likes what he sees, and doesn't know how to act about it. There was one thing a small town high school couldn’t provide you with; a well diverse sex-ed class. Not that nobody talked about it, but it was more often in a bad light than in a supportive kind of chit-chat in the back of a locker room. He had only been exposed to “educative” material through dodgy websites - though he owed his quarter-back wrist strength to that!

Today though, Evan would be happy to learn and explore.

“I’m sorry, do you guys have any water?” He manages to blurt out, running a finger into the neck of his shirt and his other hand up the side of his jeans.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use the hose, kid.” Tommy points him to the side of the building a few feet away. Evan rushes to it, and almost drowns from the big gulps he’s inhaling, and doesn’t notice Tommy’s watching. Doesn’t see how he licks his lips at the sight of his own mouth pursed, and the sway of his Adam’s apple as he swallows vigorously. How Tommy’s eyes run down his arched back as he’s holding himself up with a hand on his knee. When he’s done drinking, some stray drops run down his chin and Tommy wants to lap at them. He clears his throat and goes back to examining the engine when their eyes meet.

A couple hours has brought the awkward moment to a well established conversation between the two as they exchange about cars and Fantasy Football predictions - both of them stealing looks every once in a while, silently eating the other up. When Evan runs his hand on his stomach as it growls, Tommy takes the opportunity to ask:

“Do you wanna grab a bite?”

“Huh?” Evan asks, his brain scrambled from the heat and the blood filling his semi.

“I think I’ll need at least another day before I’m done, and the last piece I took out will keep you from driving home,” he begins. “I thought maybe we could grab a bite and I can drive you back?” There’s another sensation added to the hunger in Evan’s stomach, one he had felt a long time ago when an exchange student from England had arrived at their school. He’d gotten Evan in a corner one day and kissed his lips, and Evan let him for several seconds before he pushed him away, embarrassed - confused. He told him he wasn’t mad, but that this didn’t have to happen again or be made known to others. He still hates himself after all those years for not apologizing before the guy went back home.

“I. Yeah, yeah. That would be great.” He finds the strength to answer.

“Awesome. Let me get out of these overalls and I’ll be right there.”

Evan guides Tommy down the streets of his neighbourhood after leaving the diner, where he had the best burgers of his life. Didn’t I tell ya, kid? He remembers Tommy had said when Evan moaned at the taste of the greasy patty. He turned red right there again, but when his eyes landed on Tommy’s, he realized they were both bothered and hot by the situation. If he was reading it right…

Kid. Evan can’t shake the hold that pet name has on him, a weird mix of adoration and degradation. He wasn’t a kid! He was 19! But then again, in contrast to the well-established, rugged man sitting next to him, as he watches his fingers drum absentmindedly to a Kiss song on the steering wheel, Evan can understand why he uses that word. He hopes it isn’t derogatory, but is willing to prove Tommy wrong. 

When they get to Evan’s house, Tommy drives his car into the empty driveway and turns the engine off with a content sigh. “I guess that’s my stop,” Evan jokes and clumsily goes to tap the center console, unaware that Tommy had leaned his arm onto it, the contact of his hand hitting the strong skin sends a shiver down his spine. Like a deer in headlights, he stays like this, not budging a finger until he hears Tommy chuckle deeply.

“You okay there, buddy?” That was a new one, Evan notes, and he’s sure now that he read the situation wrong because Tommy must see him as a bro, as his little brother’s friend who’s always squatting in the basement. But the second later, Evan is shoved into a new reality when he feels Tommy’s left hand come to cradle his chin to turn his head his way. He’s unable to tell if he’s still breathing, but that can be done manually so he should survive even in the confined space around them. There’s a tentative look in Tommy’s expression, a light smirk as his eyes volley in a triangle between Evan’s lips, his eyes, and the few bunches of curls that pop out of his cap. When the hand on his arm tightens instinctively, Tommy takes the plunge and crashes their lips together.

It’s hungry and unfiltered, and what Buck gives in clumsiness Tommy can redirect and show him he’s really into this. As if his grunts or the hand creeping to the back of Evan’s neck weren’t enough proof that Tommy wasn’t just trying to be nice. That’s when Evan realizes he’s kissing back, and grunting too, and he’s not going to have to feel sorry for the near future because of his stupid brain. He unfastens his seatbelt to try and kneel onto the seat until Tommy laughs into his mouth, now open from having been explored by a hungry tongue.

“Evan,” he begins, “are you sure about this?” There’s a frown on Evan’s face and he wonders what he did wrong, until Tommy corrects: “I mean, is this okay here in the car? Won’t anybody just walk by?” And then Evan smiles.

“My parents are out of town for the week, if you would, um. If you’d like, we can go inside.” It’s like the puffiness of his lips is keeping him from talking properly, but Tommy’s eager to get out of the car and follows Evan to the door, hooking one of his fingers into a loop at the back of his jeans, that way he can pull Evan against him as he shuts the door. They makeout in the entryway for several minutes, hands rushing to touch the other’s skin.

“Sit on the couch,” Tommy says firmly. Evan’s stomach flips again. He obliges, and sits awkwardly on one side of the couch, leaving room for Tommy, completely oblivious to his intentions. Until Tommy grabs both sides of Evan’s ass and manhandles him onto the center, and finds a comfortable spot between his legs on his knees, then Evan understands where this is going and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t send a sweat down his back.

“I, um,” he struggles. “This is um... Has never happened before.” He’s already a panting, sweaty mess even though he’d been in this position before - granted the subjects on the floor were much more petite, delicate and feminine. This was uncharted territory he definitely wanted to wander into, but he felt like he forgot his flashlight and was walking barefoot in gravel through the expedition.

“It’s alright, kid. I just want to take care of you for tonight if you’ll let me, no expectations.” It reassures him already, and he nods in approbation. “You stop me whenever, tap my shoulder and I’ll be gone.” He chuckles along with Tommy, and bites his bottom lip when he’s already working on his fly. He makes quick work of it; good with his hands, Evan thinks back.

And boy does he prove it fast. Evan’s not sure he even got to take three breaths in before Tommy was running his thumb along the bottom of his head, applying a faint pressure that had his blood pumping just right, filling his length the rest of the way, causing him to hiss sharply through his teeth. There seems to be a surprised excitement in Tommy’s expression, and he’s not sure if it’s at his size or the way he’s pathetically putty in his hands already, but he’d let that live in the back of his mind forever.

“Breathe, baby boy,” Tommy encourages as he pumps him now. It’s not the usual technique he’d use on himself, but Tommy found that one to be a safe bet most of the time. He feels Evan relax under him, his legs falling a little further apart and Tommy takes advantage to creep into the new space. His arms are holding Evan’s hips down, his left hand wanders under his t-shirt onto the tight, soft stomach of the sweet boy before him. He’s in pain, straining the zipper of his jeans and he curses himself for wanting to look nice rather than throw on some sweats. But it’s not about him. He hasn’t had dick in his mouth for way too long now, and when that buff twink walked into the garage, he knew there was something to play with in those hugging blue jeans.

“That’s it,” he praises, kissing the tip and sucking the bead of precum that had threatened to glide down. “You taste so good.”

“Than- Thank you sir,” Evan moans from deep in his chest. Tommy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he sucks in just the tip, then maybe an inch or two, then three, until Evan is a shaking mess under his grip. He sucks his cheeks in on his way up, trying to wet him as much as possible, before connecting their gaze and sinking down fully in a single movement, his nose poking the taunt pubic flesh. Tommy could almost come in his pants at the sight of Evan’s reaction. He can only imagine nobody had gotten that monster down fully without struggling before, and Tommy secretly thanks his first busy years out of the closet for the practice. He pops off after a few seconds.

“Is that okay?” He’s teasing, of course. The wet sounds of his hand pumping with purpose already answer his question.

“Is that… Are you, are you fucking kidding?” He throws his head back with a punched laugh, sending his cap to fall onto his lap. Tommy grabs it and puts it on backwards, and Evan has to shut his eyes or he’ll embarrass himself in the next seconds. The look makes Tommy pass for one of his team mates, and there’s a jolt in his stomach at the idea of fooling around with him in the lockers in high school. Though the age difference dynamic is still strongly present; he can confirm from the tricks Tommy is pulling on him. “It’s, it’s so good Tommy.” He pulls out his name in a high pitched moan. Tommy knows he doesn’t have that many pulls left before he’s tipping him over the edge.

He pulls the coffee table behind him a little closer, until his body is slightly nudged underneath it, and he gently lifts Evan’s feet so they rest on it, spreading him just how he intends. He doesn’t waste his time plunging in, dragging his nose along the crease of Evan’s thigh, then the other, pushing into his balls in the passing. His hands have found a safe place just under his knees, so his dick can get a break as he explores him, smells him. He digs a little lower, and gives a trial lick to Evan’s taint, reading his immediate moan as a sign to keep going until he’s fully making out with his asshole moments later. Tommy groans into him when he feels the curious drag of the boy’s fingers into his hair,  the cap long discarded, asking him to stay right there just a tad longer until he’s a writhing mess and Tommy knows he’s gotta take action. Evan’s legs are burning, his stomach feels stiff and he’s not sure whether the pressure in his head is from an upcoming aneurysm or simply that he’s never had his soul sucked out of his body this expertly.

Evan doesn’t even realize Tommy’s lips are back around his dick until he teases his teeth along the top of his tip, soothing it immediately with a pass of his tongue, ellissiting the loudest, most embarrassing sound he’s ever let out in his - numerous - sexual experiences. His fingers are going numb into the fabric of the couch, his nails threatening to strip off. But he’s not close to putting a stop to whatever Tommy had going on; he hasn’t peeped down in a few minutes, scared that the sight of Tommy looking back at him would have him spill way too quickly. He’s biting his tongue now, because he’s just as close and doesn’t know how to let Tommy know.

There’s no actual moment to think because the next second, Tommy’s nose is up against his pubes and he swallows around him once, and twice. And maybe a third time for good measure. And Evan has to let him know he’s about to coat the back of his throat before he’s making a fool of himself, but Tommy’s deadly grip onto his hips is acting on his ability to enunciate anything.

“To-” He’s at least going to try. “Tommy,” he adds. He brings a hand to venture into his curls again, tugging a little hoping he catches the clue. But Tommy is urging on and has his mind set on the goal. He looks up, winks at Evan and takes one last breath before sinking back down fully, swishing his tongue on the bottom of Evan’s dick and managing to bring it out just enough to give his balls some attention.

Evan’s ears start ringing, he’s seeing white. Am I fucking dying? Then Tommy pulls back and tugs on him a few times until the string snaps and he’s emptying himself into the cup Tommy formed with his tongue, moaning and screaming and gasping for air and he’s panicking at the never ending ropes. He’d come again if he had any energy left when Tommy retrieves his tongue and swallows his load with a deep groan of satisfaction.

“I knew you’d be fucking sweet,” he states. Tommy runs his hands along Evan’s thighs, soothing the downfall of such a high.  He kisses along the muscles of his stomach and up to his neck, where he lays a long, open-mouth kiss to the sweet spot behind his ear. “Was that okay?” He’s genuinely asking.

“You’ve gotta stop doubting yourself, sir.” Evan puffs out a laugh. “This, um - This was the best fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.” He leans back into the couch and runs a hand into his hair, still unsure if the light from earlier wasn’t the end of the tunnel. But the warmth Tommy radiates around his body proves he’s still very alive..

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time, baby,” Tommy answers, daring a quick peck to his lips. He gets up and extends his hands to help Evan up also, making the poor boy realize the big problem he’s created;

“Do you, um. Should I-” He looks down.

“Oh, kitten, no. Don’t worry about me, okay?” Tommy deflects his intentions, hoping to buy himself a separate alone time with the pretty boy. “Plus, I’ll see you tomorrow for your appointment, huh?” He winks. Evan makes a mental note to be refreshed and energized for the day, already planning his undeniable turn for the deed. There’s a light stress in his chest at the thought of having his first experience as a giver with a man be so soon. But he’s on fire standing in front of the most handsome man he’s ever seen, who’s more than likely going to ravish him as soon as he lifts a finger, so he’s not going to fuck this chance up.

“I’ll be there on time, sir.” He nods, walking with Tommy to the front door. He owes him at least a decent goodnight.

“Bring that cute smile of yours.” Tommy has Evan blushing effortlessly, but he’s feeling a little bold. Before Tommy’s hand can turn the handle, he’s got him plastered to the door, and rushes to kiss him silly, moaning and toying with his tongue until they’re both breathless again - and as a preview, lets his hand cup at the slowly dying erection in Tommy’s jeans, earning a playful bite to his bottom lip.

“I’ll bring more than that.”

[littlerosetrove]

HOLY SHIT!!!!! 🩷💜💙 I have a lot to say.

My initial Spoiler Thoughts for 7x4 in no particular order.

The Bachelor stuff, as expected, was cringe. In a fun way, but still cringe. Chimney definitely has a little crush on Joey (hello bi Chimney? 👀), and clearly Maddie and Josh are huge Bachelor fans. I learned that it was Jennifer LH that loves the show and so pitched this crossover to the writers. Good on her since she helped create Madney and Buddie. <3

Eddie gave Buck a look at Buck's comment of, “Sorry, I have a rule that I don’t date anyone I meet on a call.” 

Bobby could tell something was off with Harry… from the waffles? Also, was that the same actor who plays Harry? It’s been a couple years, so no surprise he’s grown a lot and looks a bit different since we last saw him I think in maybe season 5A.  

That has to be a low-key dig at Buck with Eddie saying “...it’s like that thing when you meet somebody and you just, click.” A reference to the cemetery scene and Buck saying the nonsense about how Natalia, after talking twice, sees him. As Eddie should. 

Ravi is back! He looked fantastic and beautiful. Heh, loved the brief comedy bit of him asking who was gonna go into the sewer. 

Eddie had Marisol babysit Chris twice in one week? ……..I feel mixed about that. I know Eddie is in a better place than he was with Ana, but for him to leave his kid with his, as far as we can tell, casual girlfriend? What confuses me and makes this harder to even analyze for why Eddie is comfortable with this is that, hi. We still know jack shit about Marisol. We just know she and Eddie are casual boyfriend and girlfriend, but not serious. And because we don’t know anything about Marisol nor their relationship, there’s too much to guess why Eddie is, again, cool with having Marisol babysit Chris. I’ve also seen some Latina folks, in the past few days, comment on the stereotype of people like Ana and Marisol playing “the perfect” girlfriend, being motherly and such, and there not really being anything else there. I have no further comment on that, but something to put out there I guess.  

Buck complained to Maddie about Eddie having a new friend. And Maddie saying that Buck probably kept digging at Chris for questions. Buck is definitely feeling very insecure that Chris finds Tommy cool, and has some kind of connection with Tommy already (though we know nowhere close to what Buck and Chris have or will ever have). I feel for Buck, I do. Cause y'all, this guy is going to have abandonment issues probably the rest of his life. Yes he should know his place in Eddie and Chris's life by now, but....idk, it's still hard for Buck to trust his place in peoples lives. Buck go back to therapy, please.

Oh so Eddie has wanted Buck to hang out, like with the basketball games, but Buck has passed on that. Thus Eddie invited Tommy. And Eddie had looked so excited at the prospect of Buck getting to come watch the fight as well. 

Ohhh really interesting scene with Athena and Harry. Harry even brought up the incident of years ago, of a cop pulling over his dad and pointing a gun at Harry. Harry in this scene was asking, basically, which is more important being a cop or my mom. Harry has the impression Athena cares more about being a cop and………. well………. history shows she does “”understand”” the cops side. 

Honestly? I really think Eddie was talking to Tommy on the phone at the station. Given the episode, it probably was. Some may say it could be Marisol, but given how miniscule a role she’s played *gestures* in everything? Nah, it was Tommy. Even from his dialogue I could catch, idk, I still say Tommy. And goddd Buck was trying So Hard to get Eddie’s attention. Buck honey…. you’re embarrassing yourself. 

The scene with Athena and the mom who accidentally shot her son got me. Well done, I cried. Let me also just say I’m so happy to have 911 calls that aren’t longer than necessary, but more so just right. Season 6 had an issue of dragging out the calls. 

Ha! Chimney covering for Buck at the court and calling himself a beard. Chimney knows something is up, especially with Buck. 

Can I just say, I loved seeing Eddie look so happy?? Being more at ease looks fantastic on him. <333

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddie act so broey with someone. Tommy really brings out Eddie’s “hey bro man dude what’s going on” side. Interesting interesting… But I am glad that Eddie has someone to connect with about the army, his interest in fighting, and apparently cars???? Stuff like that. 

Tommy called Buck Evan, the entire episode. *squints* I’m not mad about it, but I’m a little ?????? about it. I don’t recall any past girlfriends of Buck who called him Evan. Always Buck. And Buck always introduces himself as Buck to everyone, sooooooo what? The only people to ever call Buck Evan is his parents, Maddie, and Eddie once in the memorable and iconic Will Scene. Like having Tommy call Buck Evan certainly sets him apart from everyone else and definitely past love interests…...

Good on Maddie for rightfully being pissed at Buck for, even though he’s not sure he did it intentionally or not, but for hurting Eddie. I’m a bit pissed at Buck for that too. Like Maddie said, you don’t hurt the people you care about. 🤨

Well I’m glad that Athena stuck by Harry’s side through the whole process, buuuut I still think Athena needs to retire. (we know she won’t, especially with the confirmed 8th season, and who knows how many more. maybe in the last season.) 

Eddie feels bad? Nah see it’s explained in this post by @bihoebuck about how neither Buck nor Eddie are right or wrong. It’s a quick post, read that and it’ll make sense. 

I can't wait to see and hear more from Eddie next episode. Buck may now be focusing on his queer awakening instead of figuring out his feelings about Eddie (spoiler: he's in love with Eddie, we know this), but all of this must get Eddie thinking too. And not just "oh Buck was feeling left out, and I feel like I may have left him out too." Nah there's gotta me more to shake loose in Eddie's head, you know??

BI BUCK IS CANON BABYYYYY!!!! I gotta say the build up to the kiss was really good. And? Like y’all. I really liked how confident Tommy was. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, saying a lot of right things to clear the air about Chris (that Chris couldn’t stop talking about Buck) and Eddie and such. Tommy even admitting that he’s a bit jealous of the family at the 118, since we know it was Not like that when he worked there. I’m guessing it’s not like that even at the station he currently works at. Now. Once again though we have another case of Buck Misunderstanding the mother-effing Assignment. And I do feel sorry for Tommy because Buck is… basically pivoting in his jealousy about Eddie - feeling like he’s losing Eddie and Chris because Buck will probably forever have abandonment issues - and instead of continuing to really think about why he’s feeling jealous in any regards about Eddie, he’s now thinking, “Oh. I was just wanting to spend time with Tommy. And oh holy shit I’m into guys? Yeah. Yeah I am!!” And so Buck’s queer awakening is kinda clouding his judgment and perspective. Don’t get me wrong! Buck is definitely bi, BLESS, but now he’s going to focus on this part, focus on Tommy, instead of figuring out his feelings about Eddie. I think Buck is still afraid to truly look close at his feelings for Eddie and untangle what it all means. I really wonder just how long Buck will consciously and subconsciously avoid thinking about what Eddie really means to him. I just hope Tommy doesn’t get hurt along the way. =|

PHEW. I got most of my thoughts out, but I’m sure I missed some details. Another really good episode in my books. Not perfect, but pretty dang awesome. 😎

[slootpoot]

Longhorn - Chapter Two

02 | False Accusations Longhorn Masterlist

The door opens to show a woman Dean is most definitely gonna try to sleep with. She’s got straight, blonde hair and light brown eyes. 

She also has a vagina, so that aids him. 

“Sam!” she gasps. “Oh my God!” 

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” 

The way he says her name makes your brow jump, but you don’t say anything. 

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.” She smiles, wide and white, and she hugs Sam around the shoulders. 

“I got your email,” Sam says when Becky backs up a little bit. 

She shakes her head, saying, “I didn’t think you would come here.” 

Dean takes a step toward her, extending his hand with his award-winning womanizing smile. “Dean, older brother.” 

Becky doesn’t let him see, but all women can tell when another woman is interested in a man. She shakes his hand, looking at him through her lashes. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he coos. 

You click your tongue, not-so-subtly shoving him aside. “I’m Y/N. Sam told me about you and Zach on the way here. We’re here to help and do whatever we can.” 

“Oh, Sam told me about you!” she gasps. “You’re the one that convinced him to go through with Harvard!” 

You wince - it’s still a touchy subject between you and Dean. All those years ago, Sam came to you to vent, to ask your input on what his father said. You had told him what you so desperately wanted to hear all those years ago: “Do what makes you happy, Sam. Don’t go based on what your father, or Dean, wants. Your life belongs to you, nobody else.”

“Yeah,” you cringe. “That’s… me.” 

“Come in, come in!” She doesn’t let go of your hand as she drags you in, Sam and Dean following. 

“Nice place,” Dean mutters, neck craning to view the home as he shuts the door behind him. 

“It’s my parents’,” Becky says. She leads you to sit down in the living room, but the others remain standing. “I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off, and I’m staying until Zach’s free.” 

Sam moves to stand at the arm of the couch you’re sitting on. “Where are the folks?” 

It is a nice ass house, let’s be honest here. Some rich motherfuckers own this place. 

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.” 

There it is. 

She starts walking to the kitchen, and you stand to follow. “Hey, do you guys want a beer?” she asks. 

Dean immediately perks up, smiling ear to ear. “Hey -” 

“No, thanks,” both you and Sam interrupt. 

“Tell us what happened,” Sam says. 

Rebecca sighs, her shoulders drooping. “Well, um, Zach came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Slow, quiet tears roll down her face, her crying only apparent by the slight trembles in her voice. “So, he called 911, and the police - they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zach could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police - they have a video. It’s from the security tape across the street. And it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.” 

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene,” Sam starts. You can see the lies slipping into place already, like a shitty puzzle. “Zack’s house.” 

“Why?” Becky frowns. “I mean, what could you do?” 

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” 

Dean laughs. You’ve seen this move before, his facade falling onto his face like a glove on a hand. “Detective, actually.”

Cocky dickwad. 

“Really? Where?” 

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty right now.” 

Becky’s head swivels to look at you. “And what do you do?” 

“Oh,” you hum. “I’m a journalist. But I’m not here for that. I had vacation time saved up for the road trip and, well, here we are.” 

She smiles. “You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just - I don’t know.” 

“Bec, look.” Sam steps closer, his hand on her arm in an effort of comfort. “I know Zach didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove he’s innocent.” 

It’s visible in her face when she finally relents. Her chin stops wobbling and she sniffles just once. “Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” 

She walks away and Dean scoffs, looking at Sam from the corner of his eyes. You’re standing between them. “Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shot with your friends.” 

“Look, Zach and Becky need our help.” 

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem,” Dean pushes, turning fully to face his brother. 

“Two places at once, Dean?” 

“We’ve looked into less,” you chirp, laying a hand on Dean’s bicep. “Come on, Dean, let’s just get this over with. And if it isn’t our kind of problem, we can call it a… vacation. I think.” 

Dean sighs, shoulders sloped. “Fine.” 

“Don’t forget the arch, Dean.” 

“I know.” 

“Seriously.” 

“I know. Shut up.”

Chapter Three

[anyfight]

NAME:  Raefer “Riff” McClellan SPECIES: Human ORIENTATION: Closeted Bisexual GENDER: male BIRTH DATE:  February 13th 1934

APPEARANCE

A man can only get kicked in the teeth so many times before they crack. A man can only pretend they are whole and pearly white for so long. He’s all arms and legs, a scar through his left eyebrow, sad and angry behind the eyes.

face claim:  Mike Faist

RELATIONSHIPS

FAMILY:  Aidan ( Father / unknown) , Sophie ( Mother / deceased) ; Daniel ( Uncle / deceased) ; Rachel ( Aunt );  Saoirse (  Older Sister) ;  Joseph ( Younger Half Brother)

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Velma ( ex-girlfriend) ; Graziella Rossi ( Girlfriend)

CHILDREN:  Verse dependent

PERSONALITY

He’s all rage, all anger. He is distrusting and very protective of his own.

NEED TO KNOWS

Riff’s home life has been chaotic and full of strife. Whether or not the father was in the picture, Riff can’t recall, he only remembers that his father was not there. There was a brief period in his memory of things being good with just himself, his older sister, and his mom, but most he remembers things going bad pretty quickly.  His mom being pregnant with his younger brother after a suspicious trip down to the police station with his sister to go get his mother happened right after things got bad. She died in child birth and the kids were split up among relatives.

As far as he’s aware, Saoirse stole a considerable sum of money from family and ran off with a boy when she turned 16. he’s pretty certain he’s got a niece or a nephew somewhere. Joseph joined the military at 17 and nobody has heard from him since. He is biracial.

 Riff hated living with his Aunt and Uncle. He really only remembers his uncle drinking all the time and beating on his wife, or Riff himself, and   Riff started fighting back against his Uncle as soon as he could form a fist.His ideology on what it means to be a man as well as how to be tough comes from being abused by his uncle. His Uncle died of a heart attack while beating Riff with a leather belt, of which Riff has a scar through his left eyebrow from the buckle.  he didn’t bother to run out to a payphone to call 911 until after he was certain his Uncle was dead. His Aunt kicked him out of the house after the funeral. He was 14.

Riff and Tony were friends throughout all of this and Riff moved in with Tony and his folks soon after ( 1948 - 1952).

Riff loves Polish food.

Riff is a racist.  This is mostly aimed toward men he does not know and is generally amiable to women and children regardless of ethnicity or religion. It takes a long time and a lot of effort, but Riff can come around to people he doesn’t like. he has potential for growth, he just normally doesn’t initiate it.

He’s the one who maintains the code against violence to women and children within the Jets. He can, has, and will, beat any of the Jets within an inch of their life for violating this. 

His feelings for Tony are incredibly complicated in that he loves Tony and can’t imagine his life without him, but also views him as a brother. He’s pretty convinced he only needs Tony and Graziella to be completely happy.

Riff used to work as a mechanic at O’Conner’s automotive, but after  the building was torn down he mostly works odd jobs and  does a lot of house calls to fix whatever needs fixing.  He’s often mistaken for the land lord of his apartment complex with how often he fixes everything in the building.

Riff has severe depression and has on several accounts tried to kill himself. The first time was after fighting with a teacher at the local high school ( he had already been expelled from the Catholic school, which did not go over well at home) and he just hit a breaking point and climbed out the window and jumped from the third story. he hit his head off the chain link fence and broke his back. he’s lucky he can still walk.

[miraclesabound]

Baby, It’s Happily Ever After

Summary: Charli has a health scare that puts things into perspective for her and Max’s future. 

Pairings: Max Phillips x Charlotte “Charli” Moore, background Frankie Morales x Rose Morales

Notes: This is it, folks! I know I had a lot more Kinktober entries I could have filled out, but this is the story I had always wanted to write, so I figured it was time to get it out there! This is set approximately three years after the last Kinktober story, so Max and Charli have been together for about four years. Frankie and Rose have now had a little girl whose name is Lily.

Warnings: Medical issues/procedures, mentions of periods/pregnancy, discussions of death, blood drinking. It’s a happy ending, I promise!

FAN ART BY @miranhas-art

Tag List: @writeforfandoms, @clydesducktape, @cinewhore, @hopeamarsu, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @littlemisspascal, @mswarriorbabe80, @princessxkenobi, @thirddeadlysin, @recklessworry, @readsalot73, @max--phillips—phillips, @fictitious-little-stitious, @lowlights

Join my tag list here!

“Cuz, I appreciate you and Max keeping me company while Frankie and Lily are away, but are you sure you’re all right?” Rose asked.  “You’ve been wincing ever since we finished dinner.”

Charli leaned into Max, who was sitting next to her on Rose’s living room couch. “I’ve been having these rotten abdominal cramps,” she said. “It’s been like this for about a week.”

“So, not period stuff?”

Charli shook her head. “Nope – and not pregnancy stuff either.” Max wrapped an arm around Charli’s shoulder, using his thumb to rub soothing circles into her skin. “We knew that was probably impossible, but we checked anyway. Lily’s not getting any little cousins from our side of the family.”

Rose got a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well, if it’s not those – you think it could be your gallbladder? Gran was your age or so when she had to have hers out.”

Charli stood up, trying to stretch out a bit. “Yeah, but she’d already had three kids by that point.” She let out a hiss and clutched at her gut. “AAAGH, that’s gonna be the death of me, I swear…”

“Baby, please sit back down, you’re making me nervous,” Max said. “Rose, I think we should get on the road before it gets too – ” He heard the slowing of Charli’s heart, and half a second later, she fainted. Max caught her before she hit her head on the floor, but the panic in his voice was obvious just the same. “Shit! Shit shit shit – Rose, call 911!”

At the hospital, Charli’s doctor confirmed Rose’s suspicion – Charli’s gallbladder was absolutely riddled with stones. As Charli was also starting to get a nasty fever, immediate surgery was recommended. At the crack of dawn the next morning, she was being wheeled into the operating theater – all Max could do was wait.

--

The procedure was straightforward, and when Charli woke up in the recovery room, she saw Max right by her side. “Hi handsome,” she said weakly. “How long was I out?”

“Hey baby.” Max leaned in and kissed her forehead. “It was about three hours ago that they wheeled you back. Doc said the surgery went well – and I can tell. You smell so much more like yourself than you have the last few days.”

“How bad did it get?” Charli asked. “Did I offend your vamp senses?” She giggled slightly.

Normally, Max would have joined in her laugh, but as he sat down on the bed next to her, his face was deadly serious. “It was enough that I should have insisted that we get to a doctor two days ago. I just…didn’t want to seem paranoid. If I’m honest, I was glad that Rose said something too.” He took her hand, making sure not to jostle her IV line. “I’m sorry.”

Charli shook her head. “This is not your fault, Max Phillips. I’m a grown woman, and I was the one not listening to my body. And speaking as a grown woman…” She turned his hand and began kissing his fingertips. “There’s something I’ve decided – I want you to turn me.”

Max was quiet for several seconds, and Charli dropped his hand, terrified she’d done something wrong. “Honey?” she asked timidly. “Max…please say something…”

Max shook his head and seemed to come back to himself. “I just…I believe you mean it, but why? We’ve been together four years now and you never seemed interested.”

“I hadn’t wanted to turn because I didn’t want to leave Rose and her family behind – but I heard the doctors talking just before the anesthesia kicked in,” Charli said. “I was nearly septic – if things had been different…” Her eyes started to well with tears. “I could have left you.”

Max pulled her into a hug, holding her gently but securely so he wouldn’t aggravate her incisions. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. We’ll talk more about it when you’re recovered, ok?”

“Ok.”

--

The recovery month wasn’t much fun, but with Max helping her stay on track, Charli got her pain management and diet figured out. After her final surgical appointment, she came home in high spirits. “I’m all clear!” she called out. Shucking her scarf, she hung it on the coat rack. “The surgeon said I can get back to normal activity whenever I want.”

She turned around and saw Max leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, his smile warm. “Did she say what that actually means?”

Charli nodded. “She did – she’s comfortable with me turning.” She walked down the hallway and into Max’s waiting arms.

“I mean, I’m game for it when you are,” Max said, kissing her hairline. “I just didn’t want to rush. I know we were both pretty wound up when we talked about it after your surgery.” He rubbed a soothing hand down her back. “How about I make you some dinner and then we both change into something comfortable?” After a nourishing meal, Charli and Max went upstairs – Charli pulled on a large sleep shirt that covered part of her thighs, and Max opted to just wear sweatpants.

Max got downstairs before Charli did, and when she descended the steps, she was surprised to see that he had pulled her grandmother’s antique silver-backed mirror out of its storage place under the stairs. “Honey, I thought that thing gave you the creeps?” Max was standing in front of the mirror, and his reflection was gone.

“Usually that’s true, but…I had an idea. C’mere, will ya?” He signaled to her, and she joined him in front of the mirror. He started kissing her neck, and since she couldn’t see what he was doing, it made her jump more than usual. “If I turn you in front of the mirror, you could sort of get a visual of the process. Whattya think?”

“Is that how it happened for you?” Charli asked.

“Nah, the staff at UBB were more pragmatic. We finished our degrees, got our diplomas, had our parties – and then a week after the ceremony, we met up at the Dean’s house and he turned each of us.” Max rested his chin on Charli’s shoulder. “Not that romantic, as you can guess.”

“And me in a sleep shirt is peak romance?” The lilt in Charli’s voice was sarcastic. “You wouldn’t prefer I buy a red dress for the occasion?”

“After you turn, I’ll buy you as many red silk dresses as you want,” Max promised. “But trust me, you need to be comfortable for the next few hours.” He turned Charli’s face to look in her eyes. “Do you trust me?” His face was getting more vampiric by the second, and his fangs clicked open.

Charli’s pulse began to race, but she nodded. “Always did, always will.”

“That’s my girl.” Max pulled her in tight and kissed her hard, wrapping his hand around the back of her head.  After he disengaged, he quickly lifted her shirt and kissed her three surgery scars. “This should be pretty straightforward, but just in case – I love you.”

Charli smiled. “I love you too.” She turned to the mirror again. “Is it easier if I sit?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Max helped her to the floor, having her sit between his legs. When she got comfortable, he sank his teeth into Charli’s neck without any warning.

“Oh FUCK!” Charli shouted. She could tell that if she’d been standing up, she would have fainted – the pain was that intense.

Max took a deep drink and then disconnected so that he could place a soothing kiss on Charli’s cheek. “I know, baby, I know – just hang on…” He wrapped an arm around her belly to keep her upright. “You’re gonna be getting spasms for about ten minutes as the change works through. Watch the mirror, it’ll help.”

Charli clung tight to Max’s arm, and as she watched in the mirror, each pulse seemed to wash her out – like getting a stain out of an old cloth. In the last minute, a wave of exhaustion hit her, and as her eyes closed, she felt Max lay her down on the floor.

--

Charli could tell she was coming back to herself, but what really woke her from her stupor was Max’s voice, sounding richer than it ever had before. “You with me, baby?” he asked.

Charli blinked hard, and Max’s face came into focus above her. “Hey,” she said weakly. “Yeah, I’m here…” She blinked again, trying to get her bearings. “Was I…gone?”

“Just for a few minutes. How do you feel?” Max stood up and then helped Charli to her feet. “I remember being twitchy after I turned.”

She nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I haven’t had nervous energy like this since high school.” Rolling her shoulders, she said, “I see why you wanted me to wear something comfortable – this shirt is cotton and it’s still itching, especially on my surgery scars.” She ran her tongue along her teeth, wincing when she found her fangs. “Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to.”

“You’ll figure it out in a few days,” Max promised. “For my graduating class, they let us run wild up in the mountains that first week so we could start gauging ourselves. I know we don’t have mountains, so…what do you want to do instead?"

"I dunno!" Charli said. The realization of how big her world was now was a little daunting. "Anything? Everything? Running could still be good if we had enough space somewhere, and I- baby, what are you doing?"

Max had walked over to a nearby cabinet, and he pulled something out of the top drawer. "I have an idea," he said, and pulled Charli into his arms. He opened his hand to reveal a ring box and popped the lid. Inside was a gold ring with a perfectly cut ruby. "Getting married counts as "anything", right?" From the way Charli tackled and started to kiss him, he assumed her answer was yes.

[dudski]

Tagged by @succdale who did not think I would do this based on twenty years of observed behavior BUT CURVEBALL I'M DOING IT ANYWAY

Three ships:

1. Buck/Eddie 911, THE FIC FIXATION DU JOUR. Sometimes I find a son and I say "my boy needs a LOVING FAMILY" and then he meets a single dad who becomes the person who knows and trusts him best in the entire world, and whose kid he loves like his own, but the showrunners are COWARDS and CRIMINALS and it's just not going to happen, hence: the fic.

2. Buck/Taylor 911. Sometimes cowards and criminals make some points? BUCK/TAYLOR...IT FUCKING RULES ACTUALLY. I am extremely high on them this week because @succdale just watched S5 and Finally I Am Understood. It's fandom and we all know this but HAVING A FRIEND TO SHARE THESE FEELINGS WITH IS A BEAUTIFUL THING!!!!! Listen. I watch 911 with a heart full of love but also rage, constantly keeping a mental tally of a) Who Is Supporting My Perfect Son Buck Who Has Literally Only Done One Wrong Thing Ever And It Wasn't Even That Big A Deal, and b) Who Is Inexplicably Not Supporting Him And Needs To Answer For This At The Hague. AND TAYLOR SHOWS UP! SHE'S DOING THE WORK, FOLKS! IT'S GOOD! IT'S EXTREMELY GOOD!

3. Rich Joe/Poor Joe from 2 Joe 2 Millionaire. (It's not called 2 Joe 2 Millionaire but it should be.) I don't need more people to watch this show for the sake of having there be conversation around this show, because the show is whatever. I need more people to watch this show so that THE WORD CAN GET OUT THAT 2 JOE 2 MILLIONAIRE AUs NEED TO BE A STAPLE OF EVERY FANDOM WE'VE GOT. THESE NEED TO BE THE NEW COFFEE SHOP AU. The Joes can't be 100% honest with anyone but each other? They keep going on group dates with all these women where the Joes have to step away for some alone time so that Rich Joe can talk Poor Joe through an absolute meltdown brought on by this one woman that Rich Joe wishes Poor Joe would see isn't any good for him? They start and end every episode in quiet domestic bliss at THE GENTLEMEN'S QUARTERS? I don't care if anyone else ever learns these men's names but I need that one breakout hit AU to exist so that other people can be like "okay, this is exquisite" and it can become a common premise.

First ever ship: I'm going to say this was Rachel/Tobias from Animorphs. Nine year old dudski lived for that shit.

Last song: Last song I listened to was Liz Phair - Why Can't I, last song added to the rotation was Travis Tritt - Bible Belt aka the end credits song from My Cousin Vinny.

Last film: 12 Angry Men! I said it in tags already but THAT MOVIE FUCKS? Like I knew it was a classic but I was WILDLY invested the entire time.

Currently reading: I'm reading a book a week this year! I'm about to start Blood Sweat and Pixels by Jason Schreier bc the ebook was (and still is) on sale for 1.99. I read Of Mice and Men the other day because it was the end of the week and I hadn't read anything and needed a quick gimme.

Currently watching: Weekly: The Righteous Gemstones, The Gilded Age, The Amazing Race, Abbott Elementary, Joe Millionaire: For Richer or Poorer. Just finished Yellowjackets yesterday, starting My Country: The New Age this week.

Currently playing: Adding this in! I'm in the middle of three games right now which is usually a no-no for me but eh, with these three it works. I take a break between cases in The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles so I don't burn out, Slay the Spire has no story so it's easy enough to balance with other games, and I'm like two thirds of the way through A Night in the Woods.

Currently consuming: Cinnamon raisin English muffin and iced coffee...the breakfast of champions.

Currently craving: I don't really do food cravings BUT I NEED A NEW PHONE

I'm not tagging anyone this is where those years of observed behavior come back in

[bluefirewrites]

Juke headcanon please 🥰

Alright folks, here you go:

Luke stands guard outside of Julie’s room every night. 

She doesn’t know he does this, but ever since the stamps disappeared and the boys were free, Luke is terrified that Caleb is going to come back and do something horrible. 

Especially since Caleb has come to the studio before and knows where Julie lives, it’s Luke’s greatest fear is that Caleb would sneak up on them when they least expect it and harm Julie to get his way. 

Ghost don’t sleep, so every time Julie tucks in for the night, Luke sits outside on the porch ledge right under her window, eyes peeled for anything suspicious. 

He doesn’t even listen to music, his ears sensitive to hear the telltale sign of a ghost poofing just in case... 

He always has a can of salt with him. He knows it’s practically useless, but Carlos has promised him that he’s still looking into a more viable source of protection. 

He just... feels better having it on him. It makes him feel like there’s something he could do. He already feels so powerless...  

(The guys eventually figure out where he goes to every night, but instead of telling him to quit it outright, they end up taking turns to watch over Julie- all of them afraid for what Caleb might do.)

Julie eventually finds this out when she tries to sneak out of the house to meet up with Flynn ( she had sent a ‘911′). She climbs down the lower level roof and scares both her and Luke who had been sitting on the porch while on watch. 

She asks him what he’s doing there, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse. 

And she sees the can of salt and she puts two to two together. 

She doesn’t call him out on it because she likes knowing that he’s close by. 

And if Julie does ever need him all she has to do is whisper out her window and he’ll poof by her side. 

Julie studies up on ‘90s culture and history to better connect with Luke

I see a lot of instances where Julie catches the boys up on what they missed out in the past 25 years, helping them acclimate to 2020′s culture. 

But I’d like to think that Julie wants to make it more like home for them, knowing that all these changes could be so overwhelming and hard to take in. 

Especially for Luke, who she catches appearing self-conscious with how slow he’s getting it. 

She goes to the library during her free time and pores over magazines from the ‘80s and ‘90s to get a feel for the time, maybe see what TV shows Luke might have liked or the celebrities he might recognize, and maybe the language he uses. 

Julie often goes thrift shopping anyway with Flynn, but she spends more time around the electronics section and she ends up coming home with tapes and toys from the ‘90s. 

She gets her dad to dig through their stuff for one of those TV’s with the built in VCR and she plays him the movies he liked to watch and also reruns of ‘Double Dare’ and ‘Beavis and Butthead’

She gets so caught up in ‘90s mode though, that she doesn’t realize that she’s using ‘90s slang casually around him: 

“Hey Jules, how was your day?” 

“Ugh. Got in trouble today in history which was totally bogus,” 

“’Bogus’, huh?” he smirks. 

“Like Mr. Johnson went postal today for like no reason,” 

Luke is trying so hard not to smile real big hearing her say stuff like that, but then she says she’s “totally ‘buggin’” with a straight face and he just... 

He just loves hearing her talk like that and is moved that she would go through all this trouble just to make him feel more at ease. 

Quick ones: 

Luke makes cutoffs for Julie to not only wear but also design. He purposely finds old T-shirts of his that are blank or have plenty of space for her doodles. They share and Luke wears Julie’s works of art with pride. 

Julie gets ‘music history’ lessons from Luke, where he schools her in bands that he likes. Only fitting since he’s the one to have originally introduced her to rock. 

Julie gets them a dual headphone adapter so they could listen together. They often lay down on the ground right next to each other, just vibing with the music. 

Luke doesn’t like it when other people mess with his hair. Julie’s the only who can run her fingers through his hair. He learns that he loves getting his hair played with. 

She hums or sings songs quietly when she does play with his hair. He closes his eyes and it’s the closest thing to sleep he could get as a ghost. 

Julie finds random hair ties in her hoodie pockets that she definitely doesn’t remember putting in there. But what she does remember is complaining to Luke about never having any hair ties on hand when she goes to dance class. 

Luke has terrible handwriting, so before letting the rest of the band run a song, Julie would rewrite the lyrics and copies for the boys. She may have left some cute heart drawings on Luke’s copy, and Luke secretly loves it. 

Julie runs her essays by Luke, who is insanely good in English. He proofreads it and leaves good notes. 

Luke likes to bike, and Julie lets him use the one in the garage at night in the park (so no one can see a bike pedaling by itself). She goes with him sometimes and she gets to ride on the handlebars. 

They both cry during movies. They make sure to have a box of tissues for them to share. 

Although Luke’s Spanish is terrible, Julie loves hearing him try to say things. 

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #911: Santa, Baby~ (Sonic)

8:45 a.m. at the Rabbits/Chaotix's Household's Living Room.)......

Espio: ('Sigh') It looks like Vector still hasn't answer my calls.....(Puts his Phone on the Coffee Table in Front of Him)

Silver: (Removes his Two Fingers From his Forehead While a Aqua Color Aura Disappers From his Body) And I can't seem to sense his presence anywhere. You think he must've went to the store to get something?

Blaze: (Places her Hand Under her Chin in a Thinking Like Manner) Perhaps.....

Charmy: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) But isn't most of the store are like....closed for the holidays?

Blaze: Most are. But there are a few gas stations and pharmacies that are still open for this time of year.

Cream: (Looks Up to the Window in Worry) I hope he isn't too lonely out there......

Cheese: Chao Chao......

Vanilla: There's no need for you two worry, everyone. Wherever he might've gone off to, I'm sure Vector will come back home sooner then-

'Door Opens'

?????: HO HO HO! MERRRRRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!

Cream/Charmy/Cheese: (Gasps Loudly at the Sight of....) SANTA!~/CHAO CHAO!~

Espio/Blaze/Silver: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Santa?

Vanilla: Sant-

Vanilla's eyes starts to widened a little as she suddenly starts noticing a few interesting (and very familiar) details present on "Santa's" current appearance. It wasn't long before she ultimately decided to play along with the charade.

Vanilla: (Smiles Brightly) Santa Claus!~ You've finally arrived to our humble home~

Espio: Wait. (Turns to Vanilla) You.... actually arranged for him to come here, mother?

Santa (?): (Smiles Brightly) Yeeup! She called me last night to come visit here in Christmas Morning. All while you kiddos were already fast asleep.

Vanilla: (Happily (And Quickly) Nodded) Mmhmm. I-It wasn't really an easy task mind you, but I'm so glad it paid off in the end.

Espio: (Starts at the Duo Unconvincingly) Hmmm.......

Silver: (Smiles Softly) Hey, if you're here, does that means you're gonna give each us our presents?

Santa (?): You guessed right! (Opens the Door While Bringing a Jolly Red Bag Filled Inside the Room) I wouldn't be known as the Great Saint Nick if I didn't.

Cream/Charmy: (Eyes Begins to Sparkle at the Sight of the Red Bag Filled With) Presents.....

Santa (?): Pretty neat, huh? And it's all just for you kindly folks here. (Starts Looking and Digging Inside the Bag) Cream, for bring the nicest little girl all year long, I took the liberty of getting you.....(Toss the Gift to Cream)

Cream: (Catches the Gift Before Gasping Loudly at the Sight of.....) SAILOR MOON PLUSHIE!~

Santa (?): (Chuckles Lightly) Yep! Your mother told that you've been taking a liking to the show as of late. So I figured who's better suited to look after the Sailor Guardian of Justice & Love then the bravest little bunny I know.

Cream: (Takes a Look at the Plushie With Determination in her Eyes) I will do everything in my power to protect her. (Happily Hugs the Plushie) Thank you, Santa!~

Santa (?): You're very welcome, kiddo. Oh! And Cheese! (Takes Something Else Out of the Bag) I got you Plushie too. (Toss the Gift to Cheese) It's your favorite JoJo Stand or.... whatever they call it, Star Platinum!

Cheese: (Gasps Loudly at the Sight of the Plushie Before Hugging it Happily) Chao Chao Chao Chao Chao!~

Charmy: (Excitedly Raises his Hand Up) Oohoohoh! Me next! Me next! I Whaddya got me, whaddya got me!?~

"Santa" toss Charmy's gift to him.

Charmy: (Gasps Loudly at the Gift he Got, Which is None Other Than....) NARUTO ULTIMATE NINJA STORM 4!?

Santa (?): Heard you those kind of ninja shows. So I thought a game involving around would be fun. Also, I'm not sure how far you are in the series. So do be warily of spoilers I guess.....

Charmy: (Salutes to.the Man in Red) Yes sir, Mr Santa Claus, sir! (Happily Hugs the Game) Thank you!~ (Points at Espio) Better be prepared, Espio the Chameleon! One if these days, I'll show you the essence of my OWN ninja power! BELIEVE IT!

Espio: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face While his Lovers Softly Giggles Right Beside Him) Joy.....

Santa (?): Heads up, Love Birds! (Tosses Gifts Towards the Trio Respective)

Silver: (Catches One Gift Before Putting on a Bright Smile) Sweet! I got the Latest Clockwork Book!

Blaze: (Catches the Second Gift Before Gasping Softly at it) Is this scarf is really for me? It's so pretty.....

Espio: (Catches the Last Gift Before Widening his Eyes a Little at it) You....got me a cooking apron?

Santa (?): Word has it that your cooking skills are top notch. So what better way to show it off then wearing the part?

Blaze: (Turns to Espio) We didn't know you have a talent for cooking.

Espio: Yes. I...(Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) learning how to cook for years now actually.

Silver: That is so cool.

Vanilla: Ooh! Could you wear the apron for us, dear? We wanna see how it looks on you.

Espio: I don't know......

Everyone: (Immediately Gives Espio the Puppy Dog Look) PLEEEEEASEEE!?~

Cream: We promise not to let Charmy make fun of you for it.

Charmy: Yea- Hey! I mean, I promise, but still!

Santa (?): (Gives Espio a Playful Smirk on his Face) I'm pretty sure you don't have to heart to say "no" to their faces now do you?

Espio: (Glares a Bit at "Santa" Before Sighing in Defeat) Alright....I suppose I should give the apron the proper wear.

Espio puts on his newly owned apron which has the "Do Not Disturb the Cook" Sign on the front.

Espio: (Shyly Looks Away While Rubbing his Arm) So....How does it look?

Vanilla: (Squeals Happily at the Sight of her Son) Oh my goodness, Espio, you look so wonderful!~

Charmy/Cream/Cheese: (Happily Nodded in Agreement)

Espio: You.....really think so?

Silver: (Smiles Softly) Yeah, man. You look great.

Blaze: (Smirks a Bit Seductively at the Chameleon) And handsome as well~ (Kisses Espio in the Cheek Along with Silver)

Espio: (Starts Blushing Before Changing into a Different Color and Sighing) Thanks for that......

Everyone: (Giggles Softly)

Santa (?): And last but certainly not least.....(Gives Vanilla her Gift) This is a gift just for you, milady~

Vanilla: (Opens the Tiny, Rectangular Shape Box Before Gasping at the Slight) A Heart Shaped Necklace!?~

Santa (?): It's not just any heart shaped necklace. It's a necklace that symbolizes the love, care, and passion you have for me- I-I mean!....The one you love and cherish.

Cream/Blaze/Silver: Awwwwwwwwwww!~

Santa (?): (Starts Whispering into Vanilla's Ears) Between you and me, I'm pretty positive that amazing boyfriend of yours wanted me to give that to you for your gift.

Vanilla: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness as a few Tears Starts Falling Down on his Face) You're right. ('Sniff') He really is amazing~ That's why I love my Vector-Kins oh so much~ (Happily Hugs "Santa" Lovingly) Thank you for helping him deliver this wonderful gift to me, Santa.

Santa (?): (Chuckles Lightly Whuoe Blushing) Ho Ho! Think nothing of it, miss. I'm just doing my work as always.

Vanilla: And you're doing a wonderful job at it.....Although.....

Santa(?): Hm?

Vanilla: I've been wondering This for quite a while now, but.....you don't happen to have a gift to give to Vector-Kins, now do you?

Santa(?): (Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened) Oh! I uhh...('Clears Throat') Funny you mentioned him, cause I....(Chuckles Awkwardly) kinda forgot to get him something last night....My mistakes.....

Vanilla: (Smiles Softly) Oh it's quite alright. (Picks Something Up From the Coffee Table) I already got him one a few days ago to be exact.

Santa(?): Oh really? What is it- ('GASPS') You got him The Greatest Adventure of Sherlock Holmes Book!!!?

Vanilla: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm. I figured since he's such a talented detective, I would give him a book of one of his greatest role models as one of his gifts.

Santa(?): Wait. There's ANOTHER gift you wanna give him!?

Vanilla: Yep. But....it's a lot more personal if anything.

Santa(?): Oh, well.....(Rubbing the Back of his Head Back & Forth with a Sheepish Smile on his Face) I-I'm...sure it wouldn't be too much of a problem to tell Santa. I'll definitely keep it a secret.

Vanilla: (Smiles Brightly) Oh, you will?~ God bless!~

Santa (?): Yeah..... Bless.....

Vanilla: Well if you insist on knowing, then the second gift I will give to my darling Vector will be.......

Vanilla starts whispering the details into "Santa's" ear and each word that she comes out from her mouth causes the man in red to blush in a crimson like color.

Santa(?): O-Oh! So......T-T-That's gonna....be your gift to him?.....

Vanilla: (Nods While Having a Seductive Smirk on her Face) Mmmmmhmmm~

Santa(?): (Quickly Looks Down at his Arm) OHO! Would you look at the time!? (Looks Back at the Gang) I would LOVE to stay here with you all a little longer, but...I gotta get going now. (Made his Way Back to the Door) The Elves, reindeers, Mrs. Claus are expecting me to come back to the North Pole and-

Cream: Wait! I know you're in a hurry and everything, but....(Starts Frowning in Worry) I need to know. Have you seen Mr. Vector on your way here? He's like a daddy to me and I wanna know if he's coming back home safely.

Santa(?): (Felt Pure Happiness in his Heart as He Kneels Himself Down to Cream's Level) You have nothing to worry about, kiddo. Your old man will come back sooner than you think.

Cream: You think so?

Santa(?): I know so. He's the strongest, most cleverest crocodile I know!...Or...(Smiles Sheepishly While Blushing) At least that's what I've heard he's supposed to be. (Starts Getting Back Up on his Feet) But in the meantime....(Gently Ruffles the Top of Cream's Head) Just be a little patient for him, yeah?

Cream: (Nodded in Agreement) I will. (Smiles Softly) Thank you, Santa.

Santa(?): (Smiles Brightly) Don't mention it, kiddo. (Makes his Way to the Door) Now, if you folks don't mind, I got a bunch of cookies and milk waiting for me all the way to the Northern Pole. Until then.....(Waves Goodbye to Everyone) MERRRRRRRRRY CHRISTMASSSSSS!!!! (Immediately Rushes Out of the Door)

Everyone: (Happily Waves Goodbye to Santa) Goodbye, Santa!~/Have a Merry Christmas!~/ See ya next year!~/ Chao Chao Chao!~

Vanilla: (Stares at the Door With a Bit of a Smirk on her Face) 3.....2.....1.....

'DOOR OPENS'

Vector: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Smiles Brightly) I'M BACK!

Everyone: VECTOR!~

Cream: (Happily Rushes Over to the Crocodile and Hugs Him) You're back!~ (Gives Vector a Big Kiss on the Cheek Before Pouting at Him) Where have you been!? Do you have ANY idea how worried we were about you!?

Charmy: Yeah, man. You missed A LOT when you were gone! Santa-

Vector : Came by here? Yeah I know. I just saw him flew in the skies not too long ago actually.

Silver: Huh. Neat.

Blaze: (Places her Hands on her Hips) But that doesn't explain why you were missing this entire time.

Espio: Yes. (Raised an Eyebrow) We would love to you hear your explanation in all of this.

Vector: (Starts Sweating Bullet) I uhhhhhh.....

Vanilla: Now, everyone. I'm sure Vector will explain everything once we have our Christmas Breakfast. In order.

Espio: Ah! Right! It's my turn to make Breakfast. To the Kitchen everyone!

Everyone clears in rejoice as they follow Espio to the kitchen, leaving Vector and Vanilla behind.

Vector: ('Sighs in Relief')

Vanilla: Close one, wasn't it?

Vector: (Turns to See Vanilla With a Teasing Smirk on her Face) .........You knew I was Santa, didn't you?

Vanilla: Yep!~ It was pretty easy to tell in hindsight.

Vector: ('Sighs Heavily') Yeah.....I figured the costume wouldn't fool you that easily

Vanilla: Exactly. (Playful Pouts at her Crocodile) Still!~ You should've told me you were planning to do this from the getgo! Do you have any idea how amazing it would've been if I play the role as Mrs. Claus?

Vector: (Raises his Hands With a Sheepishly Smile) I know, I know! I'm sorry. Didn't mean to leave you out of the dust like that. It was last minute thought. So I just....went through with it on my own, you know?...I....did play the role as Santa pretty well, did I?

Vanilla: (Happily Hugs Her Boyfriend Lovingly) You have. And I couldn't be any more prouder, darling~

Vector: (Happily Hugs Vanilla Back) Thanks, 'hon~......S-So uh.....About the second gift.....Is it still happening? Y-You know! Once the kids are out for the night and everything.

Vanilla: (Giggles Softly) Of course it's still happening, dear ~ (Starts Snuggling onto Vector 's Embrace) You just need to be a little more patient until the time comes, okay?

Vector: Oh alright. (Kiss the Top of Vanilla's Head) Merry Christmas, Vanilly~

Vanilla: Merry Christmas to you too, my sweet, handsome, crocodile~

@rechicken-and-waffles

@keyenuta

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@chompycroc

@ma-lemons

[morganaspendragonss]

For the bad things happen bingo: Suicide attempt and 911 lone star? :o

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: suicide attempt - so sorry that this took so long, anon! hopefully you see this, and i hope you like it! 

also written for two anons who requested 48 -  “Hey! Hey, wake up! How many of these did you take, huh? No, no, don’t go back to sleep, you need to stay awake for me.” from this list

@911lonestarangstweek day 5:  Mental health + “I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

trigger warning for: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, drug addiction and drug abuse, overdosing - this is not a happy one folks, stay safe out there

ao3 | 1.9k

TK stumbles through the streets, one hand twitching anxiously at his side, the other clenched around the bottle of pills in his pocket. He’s getting strange looks from the few other people out at this hour, but he doesn’t care, he just - he just needs to find somewhere. A quiet place where he can lie down and let it all end.

He thinks he’s made his way out of the boundaries of Carlos’s regular beat now. He can’t be certain; he’s not really been paying attention to where he’s going, but he’s been walking for long enough, he hopes. If there’s one wish he has, one last prayer, it’s that Carlos isn’t the one who has to respond to this. TK knows he’s going to cause a lot of pain tonight, but if he can spare his husband this, then it’ll all be okay.

His wedding band rests heavy on his hand, it has for a while now. He’d contemplated leaving it at home, but he hadn’t quite been able to bear the thought of dying without it. It’s selfish, as is everything he’s doing, but TK doesn’t have it in him anymore to not be selfish. 

Carlos will be okay without him. He’ll be better, even; after all, who wants a husband who can barely get out of bed most mornings and never wants to be intimate anymore? 

He’s just so tired, and he knows that he’s hurting people. Carlos’s smiles are all forced these days and he has constant worry lines around his mouth and eyes, looking at TK as if he’s going to shatter at any moment. Captain Vega had told him in a gentle tone that still brooked no argument to take time off until he got his head back on straight, after a series of bad calls led to him breaking down in the middle of shift. His dad keeps hugging him, the tightness in his body when he does so telling TK everything he needs to know.

Even his therapist had said she was worried about him; TK knows that’s her job, but he still balked at the idea of being worried over.

It’s better this way. 

For everyone.

There’s a mercifully empty alley to his left and TK ducks into it, pressing himself against the brick and sliding to the cold ground. He pulls the pills out of his pocket, turning the bottle over in his hands, the rattling cutting through the air like a knife.

It steals TK’s breath, his body starting to tremble. There’s a part of him, still, that doesn’t want to do this. Or, not like this, at least. There’s a part of him that wants to hold onto his sobriety, the one thing in his life that he hasn’t managed to screw up yet. But… But this is the easiest way. He’s an old hat at overdoses by now; he knows how they work, what to expect. It’ll be the peace he’s been craving for so long.

He feels weirdly calm as he shakes the pills into his hand, staring at them for a brief second before dry swallowing them, a couple at a time. The overdose probably won’t kick in for a while, but that’s okay. He can wait.

Time blurs around TK as he starts to drift, his mind wandering down the well-trodden paths of how he’s not good enough, how he’s a terrible husband and son and friend, how he should just go ahead and relieve everyone from the burden of him already.

I know, he thinks irritably. What do you think I’m doing this for?

His mind, of course, doesn’t listen. Figures.

His body starts to list sideways and TK doesn’t fight it, letting himself droop until he’s half-sitting, half-lying on the ground. Any other time, it would probably be uncomfortable, but it’s not like these things matter anymore.

It won’t be long now, he thinks. His brain has gone all foggy and it’s getting harder and harder to string coherent thoughts together. His eyelids droop, sleep tugging at him, and TK goes gladly towards it, sparing one last thought for Carlos, holding his face in his memory for a moment before he lets go for good.

He loves him, so much. He wrote as much, in the note that’s folded up in his back pocket - he hadn’t wanted to risk Carlos coming home from work and finding it, finding him, before it was time - and he just hopes that the words will be enough. Carlos will probably hate him for a while after this, but that’s okay, too; TK deserves no less for everything he’s put his husband through recently.

Distantly, as though underwater, he registers the slamming of a car door, too close to the entrance of the alley for comfort. TK prays they won’t spot him - he just needs a little more time - but then a light falls on him, and a voice he’d hoped not to hear reaches his ears.

“TK?” Carlos’s voice trembles, and a few tears slip down TK’s cheeks. He can’t see his husband, his back turned towards him, but he knows so well the expression that’s probably gracing his face right now. He wants to tell Carlos to turn around and go home, but his tongue feels like it’s made of lead, and Carlos wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

TK doesn’t hear him come closer, but suddenly hands are on him, turning him over and manhandling him until he’s lying in Carlos’s lap. Carlos’s face swims above him, appearing and disappearing as TK’s blinks turn slow. He looks frantic, speaking into the radio on his chest; the last thing TK wants right now is an ambulance, but he just has to hope they won’t get here quick enough.

It seems likely, as his eyes shut and he finds he doesn’t have the energy to peel them back open. Carlos’s hands on him are more like a memory now; he feels like he’s floating somewhere outside his body, drifting further away with each second, each breath.

“Hey! Hey, wake up! How many of these did you take, huh?” Carlos’s voice has risen in pitch, roughly shaking TK until he cracks his eyes back open. He’s never been able to deny Carlos anything, after all.

TK doesn’t answer the question - he couldn’t even if he was able to form words. Instead, he attempts a smile, wanting to reassure his husband that it’s okay, even if he can’t say it out loud. The smile barely lasts a second before it drops, his whole face going slack and his eyes sliding shut again. 

And, this time, TK’s sure they won’t be opening again.

“No, no, don’t go back to sleep, you need to stay awake for me,” Carlos begs, something warm and wet hitting TK’s face. “Please, TK, the ambulance is nearly here. Just hold on, you’ve got to hold on.”

He can’t, though.

And it’s okay. 

It’ll all be okay.

*

It’s been four days.

Once upon a time, Carlos had thought that watching as his almost-boyfriend was whisked off in an ambulance, bullet wound in his chest, would be the worst moment of his life. Then TK had been kidnapped, and Carlos had spent hours not knowing where he was, if he was alive or dead, and he thought - this is it. Nothing can top this.

But, having to perform CPR on his husband, having to hold him as he slipped away in his arms?

That was worse than even his nightmares.

At least, worse than the nightmares from before. His nightmares now are filled with that night, except this time, TK is already gone before Carlos gets to him. Every night, Carlos clutches his cold body to his chest, and every night he startles awake with tears on his face, fresh ones appearing when he catches sight of the empty space next to him in bed.

He’d sleep at the hospital if he could, but apparently there are restrictions surrounding the ward TK’s been placed in. Carlos doesn’t really understand it and the nurse had looked apologetic when she’d explained, but that’s just the way it is, Mr. Strand-Reyes.

He hates it, but there’s nothing he can do, save for being there as often as he can. He’s spent almost every waking hour at TK’s bedside ever since it happened, and it’s been excruciating.

It’s been four days, TK awake and lucid for three of them, but he hasn’t said a word. Carlos has tried getting him to talk, Owen too, but he just won’t. It’s wearing on them all, and Carlos has begun to hate the sound of his own voice, though he infinitely prefers it to the crushing silence that otherwise envelopes the room. He talks about anything he can think of - work, their friends, the soccer game playing on the television even though TK hates sport. The only topic he avoids is the future, because none of them have any idea what that future looks like anymore.

The doctors won’t even tell them when TK might be allowed to leave. Carlos gets it, he does, but it kills him inside. 

He just wants TK to be okay.

“I’m sorry that you found me.”

Carlos’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at TK. His voice is empty and rough from disuse, his gaze turned blankly to the ceiling, but he - he spoke, which is something Carlos has been praying for for days.

“I’m not,” Carlos says softly, hardly daring to breathe for fear of upsetting whatever it is that’s caused this change. He reaches out hesitantly to caress TK’s face and is rewarded when he doesn’t flinch away, though Carlos isn’t sure that TK even registered the touch.

“You weren’t supposed to. No-one was.”

Carlos feels those words like a punch to the gut and he can’t help the gasp that escapes his lips, nor the tears that begin to obscure his vision. He’s done his fair share of crying over the past few days, but now he just wipes his eyes impatiently, desperate to keep talking.

“You’re going to be okay, TK.” He forces a wobbly smile, moving his hand to TK’s hair. “You’ll be home before you know it, and everything will be okay, you’ll see.”

“You can’t promise that,” TK fires back, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Then, just as quickly, he deflates, all the life going out of him again. “I’m so tired of feeling like this, ‘Los.”

Carlos’s already shattered heart breaks a little more, choking back a sob as he searches his husband’s face. “Then we’ll help you get better,” he asserts, trying to sound strong, like the rock TK needs him to be. “Me, your dad, the team - we’ll all help. I promise.”

TK slowly shakes his head. “I don’t want to get better. I don’t want to have to start all over again.” He curls up, turning on his side until his back is to Carlos, Carlos’s hand falling away to the mattress. 

TK’s next words are muffled by the pillow, but they seem to echo around the room, lodging deep in Carlos’s chest.

“I just want it all to stop.”

And, when the silence returns, Carlos doesn’t try to get rid of it. There’s nothing left for him to say that means anything; nothing left for him to do, except watch over his husband, and hope that they can make it through this.

He’s not ready to let go yet.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

breathe in breathe out

Prompt: delayed drowning

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt

Fandom: Grimm

hey folks what’s up!!! brief fun announcement from me i finally got my drivers license today (only about two years late but shh) and i’m very happy ab that!!! anyway i hope that you enjoy this fic, it’s set right after the events of la llorona  and i did a Lot of research about delayed drowning for it!! (did you know that they no longer refer to it as things like ‘dry drowning’ or ‘secondary drowning’? i did not you learn new things every day up in here) anyway yeah i hope you like this fic!!!

They’re both fairly exhausted after the day they’ve had. Teaming up with a not-really-FBI agent to find a murderer, learning that ghosts might actually be real, saving the lives of three kids, and losing their would-be killer tended to do that to people. But it’s Halloween (sort of), and the both of them could do with a little winding down and trying to make sense of the events of the day. 

So they’re in Hank’s living room, talking about ghosts while a scary movie plays on the TV, muted. There’s a small bowl of Halloween candy on the table in front of them, and Hank is eating a kitkat. Nick is decidedly not hungry - his throat feels sore, which he supposes is a byproduct of his time in the river. 

He coughs, suddenly, startling Hank, who drops his candy. “You good?” he asks, and Nick nods. 

“Probably just a leftover from-” he starts, but cuts himself off with another harsh cough, and then another.

“You’re sure?” Hank asks. “Those don’t sound good. Do you feel sick?”

Nick waves him off. “I’m fine,” he says, and reaches for his glass of water. He takes a sip, hoping to calm the coughing, but instead nearly chokes on it, and feels, briefly, like he’s back in the river, fighting la llorona, watching her slip away…

And then the feeling fades, and he feels Hank thump him on the back. “I’m good, I’m good,” he assures him, discarding his glass in favor of putting his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. 

“I don’t know, man,” Hank says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Hank,” Nick insists. “Probably just swallowed some water earlier.”

Hank doesn’t look convinced, but he stops talking about it, and Nick settles back into the couch, leaning his head against the cushion. He blinks and feels his eyes fight to remain closed. He checks the time - nearly one a.m.

“I think I should head home,” he says to Hank, who turns away from the TV and looks at him.

“You alright to drive?” he asks. “You don’t look too great.”

“I’m fine,” Nick says, for the hundredth time. “Really, I promise.”

He yawns, and once again feels his eyes slip closed for longer than they should. On the other hand, maybe he’d just fall asleep right here...Hank wouldn’t mind, right?

He decides that the answer to that question is no, and brings his legs up onto the couch, curling up as best as he can in the small space. 

“Hey, what’re you-” Hank starts, but he stops upon seeing that Nick has already fallen asleep. He sighs, muttering about how Nick better not get any dirt from his shoes on his couch. 

He doesn’t mind, though, really. Especially when he takes a good long look at Nick’s sleeping face - though being asleep has lessened the effect slightly, it’s clear Nick is absolutely exhausted. His face is paler than it normally is, and there are marks under his eyes. He’s long since changed into dry clothes, but his hair is still damp, curling slightly against his forehead as it dries. Hank gives him a smile and locates a blanket to drape over him, then turns off the TV and the lights and heads to his own bed.

--

Nick wakes up an hour or so later with a burning pain in his chest. He tries to take a deep breath to get the pain to stop, but feels it catch in his throat. He breathes in again, and feels the same result. 

A panic starts welling up under his skin as he continues to struggle to breathe - his lungs are burning and there’s no air in his body and he’s dizzy because he cannot breathe. He tries to shout for help but chokes on the words, and then coughs, and then he’s coughing again, like before, only unlike before because he can’t stop. He keeps coughing without a breath in between, and every cough feels like it’s tearing its way out of his lungs and his throat, and he can taste the river on the back of his tongue, and he doesn’t know what this is or why it is happening and he still can’t breathe. 

He tries to stand up, knowing that he has to get somewhere, find someone, but the second his body leaves the couch he’s pitching forward and he’s still coughing and he thinks he is never going to stop, and then - 

Then there is a pair of arms wrapping around him, easing him to the floor, and he still can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’tbreathe, and he reaches out a desperate hand which wildly misses its mark. 

He hears, over the sound of his own coughing, Hank’s voice, and he is saying something but not to Nick. He can’t understand what it is Hank is saying, and he can’t see him, either - the force of each cough is making his eyes water so badly the world is nothing but a fuzzy blur, so he knows Hank is there, but he doesn’t know where and he can’t think or process what is happening, but he is afraid and he can’t stop coughing and his chest is on fire. He wants Hank, and tries his best to call out for him. 

And then Hank is there, and his hands are on Nick’s shoulders and he’s saying something to Nick this time, but Nick still can’t hear, still can’t see Hank beyond a vague smattering of colors and light. Cough after cough tears its way out of him and he reaches out a hand yet again. 

This time, it hits its mark, and Hank’s hand wraps around his own, steady and warm, and he says something against the side of Nick’s head which Nick still can’t hear, and then Nick is aware that he is being moved, and then something thumps him in the chest and he coughs somehow even more harshly than before, and then his body instinctively turns to the side and he coughs up a small amount of water which burns horribly, and then he coughs a few more times, and then, all of a sudden, it stops. 

He takes a shallow breath, and then another. He feels himself being moved again, and something in his brain recognizes the motion - recovery position, he thinks, and then there is a hand between his shoulder blades and Hank’s voice, again, and Nick can actually hear him this time. 

“It’s okay, Nick, you’re okay,” he is saying, but he sounds scared, and Nick is scared, still unsure of what exactly had happened to him and why it had stopped and if it was going to start again. He feels himself start to cry, his eyes which had just been starting to clear up fogging over again, and he takes a shuddering breath that burns but doesn’t make him cough. He wants to ask what happened, but his throat feels like he’s swallowed a bucket of nails and crying is already aggravating it enough. 

He feels the hand leave his back then, and makes a completely involuntary noise at the loss of contact, feeling the pain in his throat spike. 

But just as quickly as it had left, the reassuring contact is back, in front of him this time. He feels Hank lie down next to him, feels a hand on his face, hears Hank say those words again: “You’re okay, Nick, it’s alright.” 

But it’s not alright, he is still scared and in pain and confused and so, so tired. His hand reaches out for the third time, and Hank knows exactly what it means, without Nick needing to say the words. He moves an arm to wrap around Nick’s body as best as he can in their current positions, and he pulls Nick gently towards himself. 

Nick leans his face into Hank’s shoulder, relaxes ever so slightly, and breathes.

hi idk if this was any good or not but i had a good time writing it!!! i am gonna be honest the stuff about whacking him in the chest is pure bs from me but i Wanted to include it so i did lmao. the rest of the stuff is pretty true to how delayed drowning happens tho!! its pretty wild like you can be fine for several hours and then boom. also i didn’t say this in the fic but dw hank was calling 911 and nick will be fine!!

[max--phillips]

I'm not sure how to feel about this pandemic comedy movie Pedro is doing. It's awesome he's doing a comedy with a great cast but like covid comedy maybe not yet? 😕

That’s valid! My knee jerk reaction was that I’m looking forward to it, but I’ve also seen a lot of very good criticisms of it from other folks. I feel like given the premise of the movie, it’s not going to be particularly relatable to “normal people” as it were, and I can see that being either a fairly good thing or a fairly bad thing. Obviously the pandemic has affected your every day working class family a hell of a lot differently than the upper class (yes, even our boy Pedro) and if they address that properly in the movie this could be pretty good! Just because it’s a comedy doesn’t mean it can’t be a good vehicle for a critique of how the US and the rest of the world handled and continues to handle this situation. But if it’s just a movie starring a bunch of rich people complaining about how terrible it is to be holed up in a 5 star hotel with all the accommodations for DAYS 😢 then yeah, we have a problem. BUT, given we know Pedro is going to be in it I sort of doubt it’s going to be the latter. At least I sure as fuck hope it won’t be. As for not yet, that’s probably also valid, but from what I can tell from my quick scan of that article, it’s not gonna start filming for a bit, so by the time it comes out we could be fully in the upswing (at least, with the vaccine and everything coming out, I hope to god it will be). That being said, other shows like SNL and sitcoms like Superstore and others like 911 have already made plenty light of the situation, and in my opinion, some of that is needed. Yes, this is a terrible situation, and yes, I understand that hundreds of thousands of people have died because of our incompetent governments and selfish upper class. But I feel like at some point if you can find any halfway decent lemons to make lemonade out of, you should. I don’t know if that makes any sense, and I’m not sure it totally got across the nuance of how I feel about this, but I hope it? Sort of tracks? Ultimately: yes, it’s definitely a mixed bag and it’s completely reasonable to have mixed feelings about it, because same

[whenimgoodandready]

(patriotic music plays) In 1777, Lafayette was commissioned by General Washington to lead his troops in the American Revolution which led them to victory! This alliance between the French and Americans was what brought the holiday, The French-American Friendship Week🇫🇷🇺🇸. (record scratch) Okay, so it’s not a legit holiday cuz it was strictly made up for plot purposes on the show, but the events did happen as Americans and French are allies. History repeats itself so let’s see if our French heroes can ally with the American heroes in this very first Miraculous World trilogy of traveling:

Miraculous World

•New York – United HeroeZ-We start with a big damn intro that Thomas was probably inspired by other movie productions such as the “20th Century Fox” with its spotlights, “Universal” with its globe and even “Disney” with its Enchanted Castle. They even had an orchestra with the “Miraculous Ladybug” theme song playing (they went all out!). With the millions this show made it’s no surprise am I right or am I right!? Huh? Huh? Huh? HUH!? There’s a lot that went on in this special, and I know you’re all informed by it, even with the side stories, but I’m not gonna type all that went on and just put in the Pros and Cons so it can be faster. Let’s go:

Pros:

•The Space Powerups-Meet Cosmobug and Astrocat! Finally! We got to see their space forms and they looked pretty alright. Except they never really went to space and I would’ve preferred they did while battling some alien akuma, but it was still nice to see it. I liked Ladybugs space look best.

•The Native American Miracle Box-The final treat of the special and we see another miracle box and it’s guardian! Our first look is the Eagle miraculous which is a talon necklace that has an eagle like Kwami named Liiri who grants the user the power of liberation (which can be used for both good and evil). This was given to Sparrow who got promoted from sidekick to an independent hero! Congrats Sparrow! Fellow miraculers, I give you, Eagle! (trumpets sound). There was no eagle in the Native American zodiac, but I guess it’s part of the five pack and not the main duo like the Chinese Miracle box with its zodiac. There’s always the basic 12 zodiacs, the five elements and the two most important good/bad luck miraculouses. The guardian for the Native American miracle box was a chief like man who was stern, protective, and serious, but with a sense of understanding as he allowed Sparrow to keep their miraculous and start a new generation of supers with the rest thanks to Uncanny Valley.

•New York Heroes/Villains-Get this folks, Majestia, that superwoman Alya is a huge fan of, is real! Yeah! And Knightowl, Principal Damocles hero, is real too! Yeah! There’s barely any fiction in the Miraculous Universe and all we see, is real! These supers are amazing! There’s other heroes too, such as Snowflake, a snow elemental hero, Hurricane, a weather hero, Doorman, a portal traveler, Victory, a patriotic hero and Hot Dog Dan!? (record scratch). He’s uh, uhhhhhhh, a temporary power bestower through magic hot dogs?.............riiiiiiiiiight (clears throat). They’re enemies are a pirate themed technopath named Techno-Pirate (we already have Captain Hardrock for that, but I guess this is their American equivalent of it, so okay. (mutters under breath disappointedly) Wanted something more unique, but okay). Unlike the French heroes, the United Heroez don’t fall under the cliche of secret alter egos bulls*** and everyone in New York knows who they are (even the villain). I guess it’s cuz they’re mostly composed of courageous and righteous adults whereas Team Miraculous, are a bunch of insecure and awkward teenagers. Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! Not giving teens a bad name! The sidekicks of Majestia and Knightowl are Uncanny Valley, a robot girl, and Sparrow, a gadget wielding/combatant masked hooded youth, respectively. They’re the only ones who have to hide their identities (minus Knightowl for spoilers below) cuz they’re just children, but still badass cuz Aeon (aka Uncanny) figured out who Ladybug and Cat Noir were and reunited them to help save New York and Sparrow earned their wings to fly solo as a real hero.

Cons:

•Mr.Pigeon-(face palms) Hawk Moth, do you seriously want your wife back? Or are you just f**king stupid!? 51 TIMES!? (groans loudly and exasperated) You ARE mad and desperate! I understand it’s a kids show and some would find it funny that he keeps showing up, but older kids (and adults), would not! It’s no wonder we’ll be getting a new Hawk Moth in the future. One that actually creates formidable villains and not constantly recycles their old ones!

•Unnecessary Drama-So the plot said Marinette “convinces” Gabe (he had villainous intentions) to let Adrien go to New York, but Ladybug told Cat Noir to stay in Paris to watch out for any akumatizations while she’s “away”......well, we know that’s gonna be an issue, but there was no need. Adrien thought he had a plan to solve this by using his Akuma Alert app to check up on any danger in Paris and fly back quickly as Astrocat to signal Ladybug with this tiny black cat alarm she left him to come and help. Really? That’s the drama Hawkdaddy put in to spice up the special? Why couldn’t Ladybug just download the same app and use the Horse miraculous, which grants the power of teleportation, and fix the possible emergency herself!? If anything, she didn’t need to tell Cat to do jacks***! I understand the Akuma Alert back in “Riposte” cuz that happened during the show where the Parisians were getting accustomed to these attacks, but now, after what’s been a year already (in-universe), you’d think Marinette/Ladybug would be prepared to have that app like Adrien/Cat Noir, but no! She didn’t! Instead, we get this ridiculous, utterly ridiculous little black cat gadget that’s used for a dumb joke! Did Astruc not remember what he did on the show in the past seasons? Look back on your work, honey! IT’S CALLED RESEARCH! Ugh!

•New York stereotype-Like I mentioned up there with the United Heroez, Hot Dog Dan iiiiiiiiiiiiis not the most useful of supers cuz he sounds too stereotyped what with the setting being in New York where you can find a hot dog vendor (there’s even a hero named Captain Redlight who controls the traffic signal lights!) and he uses his powers for fun. That’s not all! Alya romanticized the theme of New York for Marinette and most of the time, we don’t picture that when we think of The Big Apple. When most Americans think of New York, they think crime, honking traffic jams, (911), big corporate businesses and the whole, “Hey! I’m walking here!”. Guess since this is a kids show, they didn’t wanna plant that idea in their young developing minds and just put in the “fun” aspects of New York! I get it. Don’t poison their heads.

That was our first Miraculous World special people. It was “interesting” and I’m sure you’ll agree with it too. I’m gonna elaborate more on the pros and cons of this and then mention the side stories in it. Now that we’ve seen the Native American miracle box, I think we’ll be seeing the American one next. Possibly in the Brazil special. Wonder how they’ll work with that since we have people and an object for our signs. Hmmmmm. I was real glad to see Sparrow cuz we all thought they’d be a scrapped character from the Quantic Universe, but no! They exist! (this was so much better then Felixs introduction). Mercury was even there too! Wow! We got to see the concept art come to life with members of the Quantic Kids! (wonder if Kid Mime might show up later?). Perhaps the whole United Heroez team is what inspires future Ladybug to create her own future Miraculous Justice League from “Timetagger”! What really surprised me was the LGBT Representation! The reveal that Knightowl was a woman along with Sparrow being a girl and that she (Knightowl) and Majestia are life partners with Aeon and Jess (Sparrow) being their children! For the longest time, we the fans thought Knightowl and Sparrow were male when in fact, they’re female! Nice twist there Astruc! The Knightowl and Sparrow are actually legacy heroes where the sidekick would take over for Knightowl and find a new Sparrow all with regardless of their race/gender/sexual orientation. I like that. What I didn’t like was the whole Mr.Pigeon running gag (it’s actually becoming a literal gag! >:P) there’s gonna be a moment where he’ll get called out on it, wait for that! However, it transitioned from overused creators favorite to super anarchy and nuclear war! What a dramatic climatic change! Like I mentioned, Ladybug didn’t really need to involve Cat in the whole emergency situation, but just to emphasize the trust issues between them and input drama into the special (ignoring the plot holes), Astruc gave us a near death scene with poor Uncanny Valley and thank God she was a robot or Cat would’ve gotten a can of whompa** from Majestia. Knightowl wanted to confiscate the dynamic duos miraculouses, but I don’t think they had any jurisdiction to do so. They’re an American super and they’re Parisian supers. However, since this does take place after Season 3, and Ladybug is now the guardian, it’s her choice whether they should or not and her idea was just for the two to run. This also brought the headscratcher of fans on how Ladybugs powers work? She said her “Miraculous Ladybug” power only works on a specific villain and not all villains (like the sentimonster that was shown during Techlonizers attack). Does her power not bring back the dead (that aren’t robots?), can it only fix a cataclysm power from Cat Noir? (shrugs). Unlike “Syren”, Cat quits for real this time! (for about 5mins) It hurt Marinette/Ladybug thinking she was all alone now. A Yang without her Yin. Not a good sign. What Marinette/Ladybug needs to understand is that Cat has a double life too, she shouldn’t assume it would be a breeze for him to watch Paris by himself and that he might have friends and family he can’t explain why he can’t do this and that and make up insane excuses like she does all the time. This wouldn’t be “Miraculous Ladybug” if we didn’t have shippers trying to make Adrienette happen, Alya tries to get Marinette to confess and Nino tries to get Adrien to open up. They get double ship help from Aeon and Jess, but even with the Americans allied with the French on this, Hawk Moth still co*kblocked it. Course with all the major plots involved, they added in several sub plots just to expand the special and fill the gaps such as Ms.Bustier revealed to be pregnant (who’s the daddy?), Ms.Mendeleiev trying to win over the class, Adriens Bodyguards fear of heights and Sabrinas love interest. The special foreshadowed that Marinette/Ladybugs conflict for Season 4 will be learning to move on (same w/ Adrien/Cat Noir) now that it’s strongly implied that Adrigami and Lukanette are canon. See ya all in 2021!

[movieguy50]

Hey everyone,

I just want to give everyone a quick update as to what's going on with the scams or what's called operation drain and run out of the 200 that were arrested the other day most have been released must have been very forthcoming and giving information some of them have been detained further pending for their interview and or their charges are going to be dropped or reduced law enforcement agencies have confirmed that there are some more smaller cell operations of this type going on here in the United States and in Canada they are now getting in with the Canadian authorities to help with the investigation up there I can't tell you that 75 of the 200 people arrested the other day were members of Tumblr so basically yes they were right under our nose and we did not know it but I knew it.

I can also tell you that information from this point forward is going to be very slim because they are wanting to Big Cheese the people that are actually masterminding all this and they're going to have to start being careful what information they let out and that's totally acceptable to me I totally understand that and they did say the other thing about passing the info. on to you guys as much as they can. They said that I have been a big help in this there's been a few other people that have come forward they've also been assisting and helping out but I still need some more help so anything y'all got if it if it means you got scammed don't worry about being embarrassed you're not going to be judged or you're not going to be treated like shit just because you fell for it.

So now if you've noticed that I changed the format of my blog it makes it look like it's in a daily or weekly episodic TV show it's still called a slice of my world but it's also episode 1-18 this is starting to become a daily or actually it should say it bi-weekly thing of me posting and I have enjoyed it don't get me wrong but the title of this is called oh how things have changed and it's basically going to be a lot of difficult reading from this point forward but stuff that once you read it you'll understand why it has been so difficult I I'm going to Chronicle the night of January 20th of last year through the morning hours of January 21st which is what I considered the moment my life changed forever.

So we begin on January 20th 2020 I had to go to work I walked 4 miles to go to work because I didn't have a vehicle anymore and we were living in a motel so I had to you know make sure one of us is working until a lot of times where I was staying even hard for me to get a ride. So I work the 3:30 to close shift which basically meant I left between anywhere from between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning I worked at a movie theater which by the way was probably the best job I had ever had in my life I I love that place I would love to go back to another one like it. So basically I got off work about 12:30 that night and normally I would have a ride to work on Monday nights this week it wasn't possible because of something that happened at the theater the manager got behind on his paperwork on and couldn't get out on time like he normally does I had to go to the store that night because we didn't have very much food so I went to store I got about 2 or 3 nights worth of food with enough till I get to my day off from work to go to the store and get more. That was a common occurrence so by the time I got done with the store and got home about 2:30 in the morning my wife was asleep she had been sick for about a month before this which now I have directly linked into being one of the first cases of COVID-19 in the united states'.

I came home and like I said she was asleep and I gave her a kiss like I usually do sometimes it wakes her up sometimes it doesn't this time it woke her up we start talking for a little bit I went outside and I did my usual ritual I go outside and smoke a little weed you know kind of relaxed a little bit for about 20-30 minutes yeah I went inside and cooked dinner now for a little background my wife had been sick for a while she had a heart attack November 8th in 2018 and then she had a stroke Easter Sunday of 2019 a stroke that she refused to go get taken care of even though I begged her and had other people beg her to go to the hospital she would not do it when she had the heart attack the doctor was not able to fix all the blockages to her heart because some of the arteries were too small so he told me privately that if she had another heart attack she wouldn't survive it I knew that I told her that about 3 months later so she knew but on this night I never had any dream or knowing that 2 hours after I got home from work she would be dead she had a massive heart attack I was just getting ready to start cooking dinner when she started really screaming about chest pain and I've never heard her go off like she did and even though I called 911 it still took the damn people 20 minutes to get out there otherwise I still think she'd be alive but then again maybe not so to try to make a long story short they would not let me ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital she was still coherent but when they did the ekg in the room where we were staying at I could tell the guy's eyes that she wasn't going to be much longer and I think the reason why they told me I couldn't ride with them was because for the same Theory I think that they didn't want my last memory of her to be of her fighting for her life and dying and I am thankful for that because I've had horrible nightmares about this whole thing and so after I made all the notifications and everything that day I went back to work two days later and I was told I could stay out as long as I needed to they were really really super awesome and amazing to me hell they were even responsible for giving me the money to get my wife buried because they donated money they put a pool in together to help me. The thing about it was is I don't know what upset me more the fact that I wish there was something more I could have done or the fact that I had to have a fucking cop show up to my door to tell me that she was gone even though I had already known it. So when I went back to work two days later it was very very hard because she used to work there too and she used to work at the podium on the weekends where she took the tickets and everything and told people where the theaters were and everything else and I wasn't there for 2 hours and I just doubled over it was just like a big flood of emotion but I made it that night but the hard part was with the weekends because those were the nights that she worked the most everybody loved my wife it worked up there and so I mean I didn't feel like I was so alone then the pandemic came I lost my job I lost my place where I was staying I had to go to my sister-in-law's house which was the biggest mistake of my life cuz I really found out what kind of people they were plus that's when I developed a curiosity for methamphetamine and then I met the bitch from hell not even 2 months later and keep in mind she was just supposed to be a companion we weren't like going to be boyfriend girlfriend cuz I still way too broke up about my wife's death that's all I wanted cuz I couldn't stand being lonely anymore just like I can't stand it now but she got me hooked on meth and I say she got me hooked because she kept bringing it around me knowing that I found something new that I really liked and I didn't ask her to bring it around I could have said no but this has to do with that 28 day period from June to July where she was drugging me putting the dope in my food in my drinks that's why I blame her.

Then after my ex got murdered at a house party I lost my sister-in-law and nephew and then my step daughter called me one day two weeks before Christmas to tell me that she lost her fiance her baby's daddy after he had a heart attack from A congenital heart defect that he had for 6 years the only bright spot of 2020 was my step daughter had a daughter of her own and that to this day that baby is my love bug

As where I'm at right now I'm going to be homeless by next weekend again unless I can come up with $250-300 dollars by Friday night it doesn't look like it's going to happen folks unless I can get some donations and get them quick I am taking donations right now if you can help I don't care if it's 5 10 15 20 $25 whatever it is it will help I don't expect nobody to give me the money all at once cuz I know a lot of people don't have that kind of money right now so just little donations will help right now I had to actually go to Walmart today and steal food God I hate myself for doing it I didn't get caught but still my conscience was getting the best of me for much of the evening I got enough food here to last me for 2 or 3 days if I end up getting to stay here but like I said it's not looking very good at this point I've tried local resources I've tried all kinds of Charities help and all they want you to do is hurry up and wait and I ain't got that kind of time and I told him that so I I'm asking for any help that anyone could give if I don't get if I can get at least $250 out of 400 I can go get me a motel room for the week and I'll get me by until I can come back here when my roommate comes back cuz then he'll have the money for the rent and everything else so I can come back here so I just need to really get by for a week I have not had any dope in nine days I'm going crazy but I need a place to live first before I can be doing that shit so I'll just have to deal with it if you want to help I'll give you my cash app I will put it at the end of this post for everybody so the last 18 months has not been fun I went to six suicide of Temps and I just been existing when before I had it all anyway so that's basically going to end this episode of a slice of my world I'm sorry if this was such a downer for a lot of people but you know I the more and more I feel like I tell my story easier everyday gets for me cuz I don't feel like I'm burying myself with all the emotion and having to keep it bottled up anyway I will talk to you y'all whenever I talk to you I may be on Hiatus for a little bit because I won't have a phone here after tomorrow unless I go someplace that has Wi-Fi and depending on my living situation I mean like I said I'm I'm hoping and praying somebody will be able to help out by donating a little bit of money to me so I can keep a place over my head somehow someway anyway y'all. I love you take care of yourself and I'll see you on the other side

Cashtag $jojo091069

PayPal

Venmo

Google pay

Message for those tags I left blank as I don't know them by heart yet

Love,. Sean

[abusybuzzingbee]

Skin | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 6 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader

A/N: this gif is SAUCY i should not find it as attractive as I do

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other TW: shifter calls the reader some pretty terrible things that may be triggering to some readers. if you tend to have self-deprecating thoughts, you may not want to read this episode. also, heavy topics mentioned in a fight between Dean and the reader

Word Count: 7,547

Summary: The boys and the reader head to St. Louis, Missouri when Sam gets an email about one of his college buddies. Tensions continue to rise between Dean and the reader following their dispute in Toledo, Ohio. 

Series Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

Click here for the series playlist!

Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” 

Sam did not respond to him. 

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” Sam answered, never looking up from his phone as he scrolled through it.

“Busy doin’ what?”

“Reading e-mails.”

The older brother got out of the car and began to fill up the Impala’s gas tank. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.”

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?”

“Why not?” Sam shrugged.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.”

You picked at your nails as you sat in the backseat. “What else is he supposed to do? Say, ‘Hey, I’m hunting ghosts’?”

“I get why he’s lying, I’m not tellin’ him to tell the truth.”

Sam looked over to Dean. “So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

Dean shrugged.

“You’re serious?”

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean answered.

“Oh, whatever.” You flopped back onto the leather seat.

"You’re kind of anti-social, you know that?” Sam told his brother.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean shook his head.

The younger Winchester went back to his emails.

“God…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?”

You scoffed. “Really, Dean?”

“I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack,” Sam explained. “She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

Dean paused. “Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?”

"No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

Dean leaned down into the passenger’s side window, chuckling, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem,” Sam argued. “They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, guys.”

“So?” you questioned.

You and Dean exchanged annoyed looks before he got in the car and pulled away.

***

“Dude, this house belongs in the Hills,” you told Sam as you took in the large two-story house that sat on a beautifully manicured lawn. 

He chuckled at your comment. “This one’s no big deal compared to some of my other friends’ houses. You should’ve seen Jess’s parents’ house.”

You smiled faintly. “I bet it was beautiful.”

Sam nodded, mirroring your expression. He knocked on the wood of the large front door which opened to reveal a pretty girl with blonde hair.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she exclaimed.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” he replied.

‘Little Becky?’ you thought.

“You know what you can do with that ‘little Becky’ crap,” she grinned. The two of them hugged.

“I got your e-mail,” he explained to her.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she said.

Dean took the opportunity to step in. “Dean. Older brother.” He extended his hand to her.

She shook it. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m (Y/N), I’m a family friend,” you said, effectively pulling her eyes away from Dean as you shook her hand. You were not about to watch him eye-fuck one of Sam’s friends.

“We’re here to help,” Sam told her. “Whatever we can do.”

“Come in.”

Becky led you three into the house.

“Nice place,” Dean commented as he looked around at the tall ceilings and seemingly expensive furniture.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.”

“Where are your folks?”

“They live in Paris for half the year--” Becky replied.

‘Of course, they do. Wasps.’

“--so they’re on their way home now for the trial. Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked as she led you into the kitchen.

The older Winchester smiled. “Hey--”

Sam cut him off. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to tear up. “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene,” Sam suggested. “Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?”

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.”

Dean laughed. “Detective, actually.”

‘Oh, great.’

“Really?” Becky’s eyes sparkled. “Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona,” he lied."But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know.”

Sam tried to convince her. “Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She walked away from you three down the hall. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Dean turned to his brother. “Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.”

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam countered.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean still was not completely convinced.

“Sounds a little bit like our gig, Dean,” you pressed further.

He said nothing but looked defeated. 

You and Sam smiled at each other.

***

You and the boys stood next to Becky by the Impala. You stared out at the small, white house blocked off by yellow and black tape.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Becky asked Dean.

“Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” 

You rolled your eyes at Dean’s unconvincing tone. ‘Good grief.’ 

Dean led the way up to the house, ducking under the tape, followed by you and then Sam.

Despite how frequently you work jobs, the sight of a gruesome crime scene always made you sick to your stomach. 

Blood was splattered everywhere. It stained the newspapers on the coffee table, the knocked-over lamp in the corner of the living room, and the picture frame that hung tilted to the side.

“Bec, you wanna wait outside?” Sam asked her as she stood on the other side of the tape.

You looked over at the young woman. She had one arm wrapped around her stomach and one hand over her heart. The blonde steeled herself despite her obvious discomfort. “No, I wanna help.” 

“Tell us what else the police said,” Sam prompted.

“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in,” she started tearfully. “They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about a plea bargain.” Becky looked around her, more tears rising to the surface as she did so. “Oh, God….”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?”

The blonde shook her head, but then a look of remembrance crossed her face. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” 

Sam and Dean walked away from you and Becky. The blonde followed after Dean as he went to the front door. Apparently, he was looking at the neighbor’s dog as you gathered from what Becky told him next.

“You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.” She looked over his shoulder at the barking animal.

“What happened?” he asked.

"He just changed.”

“Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

Dean looked back at her before walking away. 

You went to the kitchen to meet Sam. He was looking at something posted to the fridge door.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you asked the boy.

He gestured the picture in front of him. It was of himself, Zack, and Becky.

“You were really close to these guys, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded sadly.

“I’m sorry you had to leave all this behind,” you stated.

He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Dean walked up behind you and his younger brother. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’,” Dean affirmed.

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

“You just can’t admit when you’re wrong, huh?”

“Nope,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Becky walked over to you. 

“So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction,” Dean told her.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she explained.

The older brother laughed.

“I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

“Right on,” you grinned.

***

Once you got back to Becky’s parents’ house, the four of you sat down to watch the security footage.

The screen showed the front of Zack’s house lit up in the dark night by the lights on either side of the door.

“Here he comes,” Becky said just as Zack appeared on screen.

Dean noted the timestamp. “22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.”

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam questioned.

“Oh, sure,” she answered. She got up from the couch to go to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam stopped her. “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she joked with a grin. She left the room shortly after.

“I wish,” Dean chuckled. “What is it?”

“Check this out.” Sam rewound the tape and replayed it. One of the frames showed Zack looking right at the camera, but his eyes had an unnatural silver color to them.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean pointed out.

“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam began.

“Right,” you affirmed. “Remember how that dog completely freaked? Maybe he could sense this was some sort of a dark double of Zack’s.”

“Like a Doppelganger,” Sam added.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.”

***

Despite how you and Dean were not verbally attacking each other constantly, the tension between the two of you was stronger than ever. He did not trust you, and you were still pissed at him for what he said to you. 

Back at the motel, you hoped a shower would help clear your mind. You turned the water on and began to sing to yourself. 

‘Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and

Wouldn't you love to love her?’

You used to love listening to Fleetwood Mac with your mother. “Rihannon” was one of her favorite songs.

‘Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and

Who will be her lover?’

Both you and your mother had beautiful voices. The two of you loved to sing to one of her cassette tapes together. “Rihannon” was one of those songs that when you sang it with her it would make you feel genuine peace. With the life you led, moments of peace were few and far between. 

‘All your life you've never seen

A woman taken by the wind’

One of your favorite memories with your mother was riding in her beat-up station wagon on a highway in West Texas. The sun was just beginning to set, the windows were rolled down, and the wind whipped through your hair. The shadows of the dense trees on either side of the road made shapes appear on your face with patches of light shining through the holes in the shadows. You were sixteen at the time. The two of you took this rare moment alone to sing together, simply enjoying each other’s company. 

‘Would you stay if she promised you heaven?

Will you ever win?’

You scrubbed your scalp as you rinsed the soap out of your hair, closing your eyes in an attempt to bring yourself back to that day. 

‘She is like a cat in the dark and then

She is the darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark and when

The sky is starless’

If you could have your mom back, for even just a moment, maybe you would be able to feel that same peace again. You would feel safe and protected. The day before her passing was the last time you felt truly at peace.

‘All your life you've never seen

A woman taken by the wind’

Tears clouded your vision and your throat constricted as you continued to sing. 

‘Would you stay if she promised you heaven?

Will you ever win?

Will you ever win?’

***

A loud knock on your door pulled you out of your deep sleep.

You jumped, grabbing for the gun you kept under your pillow. You cocked it, walked up to the door, and pressed the muzzle of the gun against it. You opened it with your opposite hand just a crack. To your surprise, it was Dean.

You slammed it back in his face.

“(Y/N), open the damn door,” he demanded unenthusiastically.

You did not, but put the safety back on your gun and threw it on your bed. “What do you want, asshole? It’s almost five in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. Look, I don’t wanna be up either. It was Sam’s idea,” he explained. 

You opened the door just a crack. “Okay, what does he want at almost five in the morning?”

“I don’t know, he just had a thought, I guess.” Despite the fact that you were asking completely fair questions, his tone showed he was clearly agitated. “Get dressed.”

***

“Alright, so what are we doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning?” Dean questioned. He leaned against the hood of the Impala which was parked outside of Zack’s house. 

“I realized something,” Sam stated. “The videotape shows the killer goin’ in, but not comin’ out.”

You walked over to the younger of the two brothers who was across the street from the car. “So, he came out the back door?” 

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“‘Cause they think the killer never left, and they caught Zack inside,” you added.

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

Both you and Sam chose to ignore him as you looked around outside of the building. 

“Blood,” you noted as you looked at a smear on a wooden telephone pole. “Somebody came this way.”

“Yeah, but the trail ends. I don’t see anything over here,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee.

An ambulance blared its sirens as it sped down the street that separated you and Sam from Dean. 

You looked up at Sam, who exchanged a knowing look with Dean.

Dean drove the three of you over to where you assumed the ambulance was coming from. He parked a few houses down from a house that was surrounded by police cars. One policeman was covering the house with yellow and black tape.

You got out of the Impala, watching as a man in a suit was handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car. 

Dean walked a few paces ahead of you, stopping next to one of the onlookers. She looked as if she had been going for a jog when she stumbled upon the crime scene, as her hair was tied back and she had an MP3 played secured to her arm.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her,” she informed him.

Sam tore his attention away from the house and turned to the woman.“Really?” 

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say ‘hello.’ He seemed like such a nice guy.” The young woman shook her head. 

You watched as the cop car with the supposed killer in it drove off. 

The three of you decided to stay at the scene of the crime to dig around. You and Sam walked around the back of the house, looking for any sort of a clue. Sam lifted the lid on one of the two blue garbage cans behind the house. 

“Why are you dumpster diving?” you asked Sam. “I don’t think the killer’s hiding in there.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “I don’t know, I’m just looking for... anything. I don’t really know what to look for.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you told him as the two of you walked around to the front of the house.

Dean came up behind Sam a moment later. “Hey.”

The two of you turned around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

“What’d you find out?” Sam questioned.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” he informed you.

“So, he was two places at once,” Sam affirmed.

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nutjob.”

“Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way.”

“Could be the same thing doin’ it, too.”

You thought for a second. “Shapeshifter?”

Dean shrugged.

“Dude, bear with me on this one. It’s something that can make itself look like anyone.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” he replied.

“Every culture in the world has shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men,” Sam added.

“Right. Skinwalkers, werewolves,” you continued.

“We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood,” the younger brother went on.

“Shapeshifters aren’t exactly known for flying--” you started as you headed off back behind the building, “--so I think it’s safe to say that I found a trail back there. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way.” you pointed down the street.

“Just like your friend’s house,” Dean told Sam.

“Yeah. And, just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared,” you noted.

“Well, there’s another way to go—down,” the older Winchester pointed out.

You looked down to where the trail ended to find a manhole. 

The three of you climbed down the ladder into the hole, looking around the dark cavern. 

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam commented. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You went to take a step but stopped yourself when you looked at what you were about to walk into. You bent down, examining the pile of what appeared to be blood and skin. 

“Is this from his victims?” Sam asked as he, too, bent down.

You took out your pocketknife, picking up some of the skin with the end of the blade. “Gross.”

“You know, I just had a sick thought,” Dean piped up. “When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.”

You looked back to see Sam’s nose scrunch up further as he thought about what Dean had said. “That is sick.”

You shook the skin off of your knife, wiping it off on Dean’s jacket.

“Hey!” He swatted your arm away.

You snickered. 

“C’mon, you two,” Sam commanded with a groan as he made his way up the ladder. 

Sam and Dean followed close behind you as you headed to the car. You leaned on the side of it as Dean popped open the trunk. 

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” Sam nodded. A moment later, his phone rang. “This is Sam... We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out...” He mouthed Becky’s name to you to let you know who was on the phone. His expression changed a moment later to one of confusion. “What are you talkin’ about?... Why would you do that?” Suddenly, he seemed irritated. “Bec—... We’re tryin’ to help... Bec, I’m sorry, but—” He was cut off when she hung up on him.

“What was that all about?” you asked. 

“She found out about Dean.”

“What, how he’s not a detective?”

“Yep.”

“I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” Dean jumped in. “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just--it’d be easier if--”

Sam understood where his brother was going with his statement. "If I was like you.”

“Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He held up a gun with a smirk.

***

The three of you headed back down the manhole, walking down the cavernous hallway with flashlights and guns in hand. 

“I think we’re close to its lair,” you told Sam.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you grinned.

“Oh, God!” he cried as he turned to see skin and blood on the pipe not two inches from his face.

Dean noticed a pile of clothes in the corner. “Looks like it’s lived here for a while.”

“Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away with?” Sam shook his head.

You heard a small splash in a puddle behind Dean. You whipped around and aimed your flashlight at the sound, seeing the shifter in the form of the businessman. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted.

He wheeled around only to get punched in the face by the shifter. Dean toppled to the ground as the shifter ran away from you and the boys. 

Sam shot after it a few times, but he missed. You tore down the corridor after it, not even once taking a look at Dean.  

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean yelled after you.

“That’s the idea, jackass!” you called back. You watched as the shifter climbed out of the manhole you and the Winchesters had used to get into the sewers. You scrambled up the ladder as quickly as you could, popping out of the ground and gazing out into the dark night.

You could just barely see the shifter at this point. You followed where you thought you had seen him turn. You held your gun inside your jacket, eyes focused on the alleyway you saw the shifter turn into. You pressed your back against the brick wall of the shop on the right of the alley before turning into it. You shined your flashlight down the dark alley, walking into it a few paces. The all too familiar smell of coconuts and tobacco filled your nose. When the beam of light hit the wall of the building along the back of the alley, you turned around, only to see the shifter in the form of the businessman staring directly at you. Before you could so much as aim your gun at it, it hit you over the head. Your vision went completely dark.

***

You woke up to an unfamiliar sight. The shifter had taken you to his lair; a cold, damp, dimly lit room in what seemed to be a house. You groaned before attempting to stand up, only to get choked by a rope that had been secured around your neck and pulled back by ropes around your hands. The shifter had tied you to a wooden post. 

‘Brilliant,’ you thought.

You heard muffled voices behind you, one that sounded like it was Dean’s. 

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not--” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan. 

“Dean” walked over to you. 

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post. 

“Dean, the rope around my neck, it’s too tight,” you lied, struggling against the ropes. You pretended like your throat was constricted by making your voice strained. “Help me, please,” you begged.

The shapeshifter chuckled. “How stupid do you think I am?”

You dropped the act. “It was worth a shot,” you mumbled.

“You act like Dean-- I’m sorry, I-- would help you anyway,” he said as he walked away from you.

You looked up at him curiously.

He turned back to face you. “I’m so ready to leave your sorry ass in the dust,” the shifter laughed coldly. “All you’ve done since we met you is cause more trouble for us. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another. 

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what happened in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. 

He turned away from you once more. “Sammy... that’s another thing. I hate how close the two of you have gotten. I mean, you roll up in your stolen car and immediately have him wrapped around your finger. He’s so ready to defend you against me. Maybe that’s why I hate you so much. You’ve replaced me. And sooner or later, you’re gonna take him away from me. Hell, everyone else in my life’s left, why wouldn’t he?”

The shifter took a deep breath, his frustrated expression leaving his face. He replaced it with a smug look as he continued on berating you. “Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

With that, the shapeshifter disappeared.

You heard Sam mutter something, and then someone coughing. 

“That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature,” you heard Dean call from somewhere in the cavern. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sam confirmed.

You steeled yourself, trying to push the shifter’s hurtful words out of your mind. “Sam, that thing went to Becky’s carryin’ Dean’s face,” you informed him. 

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” he told Sam.  

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to wiggle your way out of the ropes around your wrists. 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you,” Sam continued. “Or he was becoming you.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.”

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind-meld?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam suggested. 

You heard shuffling behind you, which you assumed was Dean walking over to Sam.

“Hey, jackass, you passed me up,” you yelled at Dean.

“I know,” he called back to you. He went back to his conversation with Sam. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” 

“Hands,” Sam ordered Dean. “Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

“I’m still stuck here!”

Sam came over to help you get the ropes undone. However, Dean could care less about the state you were in.

You found all of the guns the shapeshifter had stolen off of the three of you, and you tossed each of the guns to their respective owners. 

Sam boosted you up to a window high off the ground in the room you were in.  You climbed out, “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam started to head down the street. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean effectively stopped his brother. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

“Sorry,” Sam grimaced.

“This way.” You took off down the street. The neighborhood you sprinted through was dark, the street lamps so scattered and dimly lit that you could hardly see your feet hit the pavement below you. As you came up on a block full of shops, you slowed your run to a walk as to not draw too much attention in the well-lit area. 

You almost headed past a shop with a bunch of televisions set to a news channel in the window, but you stopped when you heard what the reporter was relaying to the audience.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

A sketch of Dean appeared on the screen next to the reporter. 

“Man! That’s not even a good picture,” Dean piped up from next to you.

You looked around, making sure no one heard Dean’s loud exclamation and got suspicious.

“It’s good enough,” Sam muttered. He quickly walked past the shop to get back in the cover of night on the other side of the strip of stores.

“Man!” Dean grunted as he followed his brother.

“Hush, you big baby,” you snapped. 

Sam turned down an alley with you and his older brother falling behind. 

“Come on,” Sam urged the two of you quietly. “They said attempted murder. At least we know--”

Dean cut him off. “I didn’t kill her.”

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right.”

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

“Dean,” you started, “We have no weapons. No silver bullets.”

He stopped, turning to face you. "(Y/N), the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal. I wanna find him.”

“Okay. Where do we look?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

The older Winchester paused for a moment. “Well, we could start with the sewers.”

“We have no weapons, genius. He stole our guns, we need more.” 

“The car?” Sam offered.

You shrugged. “He probably drove it over to Rebecca’s.”

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

"The thought of him drivin’ my car,” Dean snarled.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright, come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” the older brother whined.

“Let it go.”

***

As you walked up the street on the right side of Becky’s house, you noticed the silhouette of the car outlined by the dim light of the street lamp.

“Oh, there she is!” Dean exclaimed happily, the relief in his voice evident. “Finally, something went right tonight.”

A police car appeared around the corner and parked next to the Impala.  

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. You turned around, beginning to run away, but another cop car was parked across the street at the intersection you had come from.

This way, this way.” Dean headed toward a fence.

“You go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you and his brother.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you,” the older Winchester said.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight,” the brunet urged. “Meet me at Rebecca’s.”

“You got it, chief,” you called back.

 Dean was the first to hop the fence and you followed. You stumbled upon landing in the backyard of the house you happened upon.

The voice of a police officer broke through the silent night as you and Dean started off to the fence on the backside of the yard. “Don’t move! Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”

You climbed over the fence into the backyard of another house and ran around the left side of it to head down the street the cop car was parked at the intersection of. The two of you stayed out of the glow of the lamp lights that lined either side of the road as you ran along. 

When you had gotten several blocks over from where you had that run-in with the cops, you and Dean stopped to catch your breath. You both sat down on the street corner, chests heaving. The older Winchester went to lay back, but you stopped him.

“Hey, stay sittin’ up,” you directed.

“What? Why?”

“You’re gonna pass out if you do.”

“Uh, okay.” He looked at you as if you did not know what you were talking about but still followed your orders. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. 

“So, what now?” you questioned. 

He shook his head. “The cops are probably still snoopin’ around Rebecca’s house. Can’t go get the car ‘til they’re cleared out.”

“Yeah, so, what now?” you asked again.

“I don’t know, man,” he grumbled annoyedly. “You got any ideas, Einstein?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you, dumbass,” you responded snippily. “What time is it?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t have a watch on me.”

“Great,” you sighed, standing up. You brushed your hands off on your pants and dusted the back of your jeans off. 

“Could go get some burgers,” Dean piped up from his seated position on the grass.

“Your brother just got arrested, and you’re a wanted man, but sure, let’s take you where everybody in the joint’s gonna be able to clearly see your face.”

“Jeez, calm down. It was just a suggestion.”

“Yeah, a dumb one.”

“What’s your deal, (Y/N)?” Dean stood up, and you turned to face him.

“My deal? What about yours?”

“I don’t have one! But you’ve clearly got a stick up your ass.”

You shook your head in frustration. “Dean, don’t lie to me. You have a deal. With me, specifically. The shifter told me all about it.” 

The young man tilted his head to the side in question. “What?”

“Yeah, he told me what you really think of me,” you continued. You took a step toward him with each sentence. “How much I annoy you. How much I exhaust you. How much of a burden I am to you.”

His face dropped out of its angry expression as he took a step back.

“He also told me how you think I’m gonna replace you in Sam’s eyes.” You laughed coldly. “Is that why you hate me so much? Because you’re so insecure about your relationship with Sam?”

The fact that Dean did not respond showed you that you were correct.

“I gotta be real with you, that’s pathetic.” You regretted what you said instantly.

The anger returned to his face. “Still think you don’t have a stick up your ass after you say something like that?”

“I’m sorry, I--”

“No. Just shut up.”

He walked off down the street.

Your frustration replaced your guilt in an instant. “Seriously? I say one thing that cuts slightly below surface-level insults and you get butthurt?”

Dean turned around. 

You walked up to him. “What I just told you was fucked up, sure. But it wasn’t half as bad as what you said to me back in Toledo. That I probably drove my family crazy enough that they'd kill themselves over it? Does that ring a bell?"

“What do you want me to say, (Y/N)?”

“I want you to apologize, for starters!” you shouted back. Your tone changed to dripping with sarcasm. “Now, I know that would require you to humble yourself and get past your superiority complex, so I understand how difficult that’s gonna be for you.”

“I’m sorry, okay!” he yelled, throwing his arms out to his sides. “And I’m sorry about what that shifter said to you.”

“Thank you!” You took a moment to collect yourself. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“Thanks.”

You looked around at the houses that surrounded you on either side of the road the two of you stood in the middle of. “Now that we probably woke up half the neighborhood, let’s bounce.”

Dean chuckled, walking down the street away from you. You caught up to him.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going, we haven’t exactly decided what we’re doing.”

“I’m goin’ back to Becky’s. The cops probably cleared out by now,” he replied.

‘Okay, way to fill me in on what the plan is,” you scoffed. 

“I didn’t realize I had to share every little bit of my thought process with you,” Dean clapped back.

“Well, it’s kinda helpful to know what you’re thinkin’ when we’re working together,” you told him.

“Whatever,” Dean brushed you off. “Why does it bug you, anyway? That’s such a stupid thing to fight with me about.”

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “Your face is just annoying.”

“Gee, thanks,” he retorted dryly. 

As you approached the car, you noticed the sun had begun to rise.

“I guess that answers the ‘what time is it’ question,” you noted. “It’s probably somewhere around five in the mornin’.”

Dean popped open the trunk, shrugging on the navy blue canvas jacket he found on top of the gun compartment. You grabbed your duffel bag out of the trunk before Dean opened the hollowed-out bottom of the trunk. 

You grabbed more silver bullets out of your bag and loaded them into your gun as Dean filtered through the weapons in his trunk.

“Doesn’t look like the shifter took anything,” he told you.

“Alright, to the sewers.” You headed up to the passenger’s seat after haphazardly throwing your bag over Dean’s head back into the trunk.

“Watch it!” Dean scolded. “You almost knocked me out!”

“But I didn’t,” you smirked, ducking down into the front seat. 

***

You and Dean pointed your flashlights and guns around the sewer as you walked down the corridor together. 

You walked into a chamber filled with candles and chains hanging from the ceiling. You aimed your flashlight at the ground, noticing many piles of shed skin and blood all over the floor. You even noticed a few teeth and fingernails near the pile.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you grimaced, looking up at Dean.

“(Y/N)?” you heard a muffled voice call from the far right corner of the chamber.

“Bec?” you responded, rushing over to a curled up figure covered by a tarp. You pulled the cover off to reveal a disheveled Rebecca, her hands and feet bound with rope.

“Thank God,” she sighed when she saw your face as you began to untie her. The blonde’s face was red, and tears had dried on her face. 

Dean came over to the two of you, coming up behind you. “What happened?” 

Rebecca started crying again as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“It’s okay, you’re okay now,” you coaxed her as you finished untying her binds.

“Come on. Can you walk?” Dean asked as he helped Becky stand up. 

She nodded.

“Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”

***

You jumped out of the car before it had even stopped rolling into the half-circle shaped driveway, rushing into Rebecca’s house behind Dean.

You held your gun out in front of you, Dean doing the same and yelling “Hey!” as he entered the living room. 

You saw the shifter in the form of Dean jump off of Sam, whom he had previously been strangling. Dean shot the shifter in the chest twice, and it dropped to the ground dead. 

You ran over to Sam. “Hey! Hey, are you okay?” you questioned as he slowly sat up, grasping at his neck. 

The younger brother groaned, nodding in response. 

You blew out a puff of air. Rebecca came running over, crouching down to yours and Sam’s level, looking him over. 

You looked back at Dean and watched as he ripped the necklace he always wore from around the shapeshifter’s neck. He looked over at you, giving you a knowing nod. His jaw was clenched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. 

You stood up, leaving Sam and Rebecca on the floor while you walked over to Dean. His eyes followed your face as you got closer to him 

“So, what are you gonna do with... you?” you chortled, trying to make light of the situation. 

He scoffed at you. “I guess have Becky call the cops once we get the hell outta dodge.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded, glancing down at the shifter. Your movements tensed as you remembered the awful things he said to you. Things that had apparently been on Dean’s mind; the reasons why he hated you. Despite the fact that Dean had apologized, you were still hurt. 

“You okay?” Sam asked you when he walked up behind you. 

You turned around to face him, noticing Dean had left his crouched position next to the shapeshifter.

“Yeah,” you lied, “I’m good.”

He gave you a knowing look with a tilt of his head.

You smiled half-heartedly. “We’ll talk about it later.”

***

You and Dean were packing up the car while Sam said his goodbyes to Rebecca. You looked on as the two friends shared a hug. When they pulled away, the blonde waved to you and Dean. You smiled at her, waving back. 

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked as soon as Sam walked up to the car. 

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam smirked. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before he got into the car, leaving you and Sam chuckling to yourselves. 

***

Dean broke the silence in the car that you three had been enjoying the entirety of the ride up until that point. “Sorry, man.”

You looked away from the trees that flew by outside of the Impala’s window over to Dean.

“About what?” Sam inquired.

“I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are,” the younger brother laughed.

“Aw, isn’t this sweet,” you piped up from the backseat.

“Shut up, (Y/N),” Dean responded, making you snicker. He paused. "You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” 

Sam turned his head to his brother. “Miss what?” 

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

You snorted, curling up against the window while the car went quiet again. The shapeshifter’s words swirled around in your mind, causing the corners of your lips to turn down. 

Were you really a burden to Dean? Or was the shapeshifter just saying that to get under your skin? 

‘I mean, he never denied feeling that way when we were fighting,’ you reminded yourself. You huffed, crossing your arms. 

‘I’ll talk to Sam about it next time we stop,’ you told yourself. You closed your eyes and decided napping was a better idea than being in your own head at the moment. 

One final thought made its way into your head before you could suppress it. 

‘He can’t really think that badly of me... could he?’

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Series Rewrite Babes:

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Dean Girls:

@akshi8278

[arabellaflynn]

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was. 

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any. 

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys. 

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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