#and that? that tv has been here for like twenty five years we don't use it but it's there

[greektragedybitch]

being desi is knowing that half the stuff in your house has been there for longer than you have

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Five

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Angst. Word count: ~3.5k

Chapter summary: Aemond dwells upon the past while trying to live without her.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The flat door clicks closed behind Aemond and he lingers in the corridor for a moment. This was for the best, he was sparing her, so why does his heart feel so heavy? Every step towards his car feels as though he’s walking through quicksand.

He loads Vhagar into the boot, throwing his overnight bag onto the backseat and sits wearily behind the wheel, gripping it with enough force to turn his knuckles white. He screws his eye shut, attempting to will away the prickling sensation around the rim, alongside the lump in his throat.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing. 

**15 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond looks up at her from where he’s seated on the edge of the hotel bed, brows arched in pain and disbelief, as tears slip down his cheeks. “So that’s just it, you’re ending things?”

Alys purses her crimson stained lips, perfectly manicured nails of the same shade brush against his cheek as she stands over him. “Oh sweetheart,” she coos, “You had to know that our little arrangement wasn’t forever.”

His heart twinges at this, what could she possibly mean? They are made for each other, two halves of the same whole. He stares at her, confused. “But I love you…”

She laughs, green eyes crinkling with mirth and the sight and sound is a dagger to his chest.

“You don’t love me,” she says, her tone condescending, “You’re barely twenty, you don’t know what love is. You just like the idea of an older woman.”

He shakes his head, feeling himself become angry at her cold dismissal of his feelings. “Then why? Why bother with me?”

Alys sighs. “Look, we both got something we wanted out of this arrangement. You got to have a little fun, and I made sure I got the Harrenhal contract.”

Bile rises in Aemond’s throat, his eye narrowing hatefully as he stares at her, acrid warmth spreading throughout his chest.

She’d used him.

**PRESENT DAY**

Aemond’s own flat feels too big, too empty, too quiet, when he returns to it. The pitter patter of Vhagar’s claws against the hardwood floor as she potters towards her bed is the only audible sound.

He’s never stopped to consider his own living space much before, preferring functionality over comfort. He is out most of the time anyway, so what does it matter as long as things do what he needs them to do? 

It’s only as he leans against the spotless granite of the kitchen counter that he is struck by how lifeless and sterile it is here. He’s grown used to the warmth and cosiness of being at her place; the smell of jasmine that wafts delicately in the air from the incense sticks that her and Mysaria always seem to be burning, being pressed against her on the tiny sofa, her feet in his lap as trashy TV plays just a little too loudly, the tiny space is filled with laughter, comfort and love. Dropped back into his own space he feels as though he’s been set adrift, empty and hollow, yet he has no one to blame but himself.

The bed is too big, he has too much room, he misses the feel of springs digging into his back as he curls himself around her on her tiny mattress. This bed doesn’t feel like home, not anymore, not since he’d laid her down upon it all those nights ago, put her legs over his shoulders and…fucked it all up by leaving without saying anything the next day, just like he fucks up everything. She’d given him a second chance and he’d squandered it.

No, he did what he needed to.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing. 

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face and throws the covers off, walking to the bathroom. Rifling through the medicine cabinet in search of painkillers to dull the throbbing ache in his left eye socket, his fingers close around something cool and metallic.

He plucks it out, studying it carefully. It’s a bracelet of hers, probably left there accidentally from one of the few times she’s stayed over. He turns the silver bangle over in his fingers, remembering the first time he’d seen her wear it. He’d thought to himself it looked cheap, but now as he holds it it feels like the most precious treasure in the world. It’s all he has left of her.

How had he allowed things to go this far? It was only ever supposed to be transactional but he’d allowed it to evolve, letting her occupy a space in his heart and mind that left them both vulnerable. He ended things, not wanting to cause her unnecessary pain and yet in doing so has devastated them both.

Aemond doesn’t do love or relationships. Not even his own family can stand him, so how can he expect another person to feel that way about him, or open himself up to the possibility of having those feelings for someone else? It’s a path he’s trodden before and it doesn’t end well.

**5 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond leans in to kiss Floris, she turns her head and he catches her cheek instead.

“I’ve just put on lipgloss, Aem,” she says, her voice saccharine, “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“Mm. Was just about to leave, love,” He tells her, grabbing his keys.

“Forgetting something?” She says with a slight pout and tilt of her head.

“Ah, of course,” he fishes his credit card out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and hands it over to her, smirking as the diamond of her engagement ring glitters with the movement of her fingers, “I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“You too!” She calls over her shoulder, already walking back towards the bedroom.

It’s not until Aemond is almost at his car that he realises he’s left his phone in the flat and heads back upstairs to retrieve it. As he opens the front door he can hear Floris on the phone, only able to pick up on her side of the conversation, he pauses to listen in.

“...I can only put him off for so long. I have to do it occasionally, otherwise he’d get suspicious. It’s that horrible prosthetic eye, it gives me the creeps–”

“...only a few months until the wedding, then I can get a quickie divorce and take half of everything–”

“...no, he hasn’t made me sign a pre-nup, he’s too obsessed with me for that–”

Aemond’s breath catches in his throat as a dull ache spreads its way through his chest. He slams the front door hard enough to alert Floris that he’s home and strides towards the bedroom.

**PRESENT DAY**

The next few weeks are a miserable dirge for Aemond. He buries himself in paperwork at work, in an attempt to push away thoughts of her, yet finds his mind wandering to how she might be spending the working day, whether she’s finally managed to get the museum to commission the exhibit she’s been pushing for or not. He considers dropping by the museum, just to see if he can watch her from a distance, but decides against it. It was his decision to end things, it was for the best, the least he owed her was to stay away.

Aemond sits on his couch in the evenings, the cold, hard leather unwelcoming against his back, the space too expansive as he attempts to watch the same trashy TV on his widescreen that he’d watched with her on her TV. He finds he couldn’t give less of a shit about which couples are voted off of Love Island or who scored the lowest on Come Dine With Me, for him the experience was about being snuggled up next to her on the sofa, feeling her warmth, hearing her laugh. Now she’s gone, and none of the things that accompanied that seem to matter.

Family functions are unbearable without her. He misses the way she’d smile up at him when he placed his hand at the small of her back, misses how effortlessly she converses with his family, even the members he struggles to get along with.

Without her to keep him grounded, he bickers with Aegon, is aloof with his mother and Helaena and actively goes out of his way to antagonise his nephews. He hasn’t just reverted back to old habits, he’s worse, and it’s obvious his family have begun to notice too. He elects just to stay away entirely when invitations are extended.

That is until the night of Helaena’s birthday party. His only sister would never forgive him if he didn’t show up, so grudgingly he goes to the gathering his mother is having for her at her place. 

He stands out on the decking, the same decking where he’d shared his first kiss with her, the memory plays on a loop in his head, he can still taste the red wine on her lips. 

The cherry red tip of his cigarette as he takes a drag provides further illumination alongside the soft glow of the lights through the windows of the house, and the moon that shines bright in the night sky. 

It’s quiet, save for the muffled bass of the music coming from inside. It gets louder as the French doors slide open for a moment, quieting once more as they slide closed.

Aemond rolls his eye, blowing out a tight line of smoke, his shoulders tensing. He wants to be left alone, he had hoped that escaping to the garden would have made that perfectly clear to everyone.

“It’s just me,” Helaena says softly, coming to stand beside him.

Aemond softens, glancing down at her, his gaze drawn to the bubbles that rise to the top of the glass in the gin and tonic that she’s taking delicate sips from.

“Happy birthday, Hel,” he says, facing forward again and taking another drag.

“It’d be happier if you’d actually come inside,” She nudges him gently with her elbow.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be,”

“What’s going on with you? You’re miserable lately.”

“I’ve always been miserable,” He throws his cigarette butt down onto the decking and crushes it under foot.

“You were less miserable when you had your girlfriend. I liked the guy that you were when you were with her,”

“She’s not my girlfriend, never was,” Aemond’s tone is clipped, he purses his lips as he feels irritation prickle at his skin.

“Why not?” Helaena taps the rings on her fingers gently against her glass.

“She deserves better than me. I’ve spared her the inevitable hurt I’d cause her,”

“Hm. You know, there’s only so many times you can use that excuse before it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy,”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve ended things because you don’t want to hurt her, but I bet doing that has hurt her, and you,”

Aemond scoffs, “I don’t do relationships, Hel,”

She huffs a quiet laugh, “No, I don’t do relationships because I’m aroace. You do do relationships, Aemond, you’ve just made crappy choices in the past and you’re allowing fear to dictate your future,”

He narrows his eye, glancing towards her again, “And how do you know so much?”

“I’m incredibly fussy about the insects I choose for pin-mounting, and those just go on my wall. I’m even more particular when it comes to people. I’ve seen how you two look at each other, don’t chuck this away,”

“Hel–”

“I mean it, Aemond. She’s your…your atlas moth! Pin mount her before somebody else does,”

“A truly horrifying metaphor, but thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmly, “You gonna come inside now?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to go. Do you mind?”

“Gonna go get your girl?” She asks with a grin.

“Perhaps,” he says with a bow of his head.

Helaena deposits her drink on the railing and claps her hands together excitedly. “Then of course I don’t mind, go!”

Aemond pulls out his phone as he gets into his car, seeing the Instagram notification pop up on his lockscreen.

mysaria_ww has started a live video

Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, he clicks on the notification and startles slightly as pounding music blares from his phone’s speaker. The camera sweeps shakily over a couple of obnoxiously lurid drinks before it lands on her.

Aemond feels his breath catch in his throat, his heart seems to skip a beat at the sight of her and he holds his phone in trembling hands as he makes a note of the location sticker. A cocktail bar not far from here.

He locks his phone and is starting the car before he has time to properly think about it.

The bar is dimly lit, the music not to Aemond’s taste and far louder than he’s comfortable with. It’s the type of place that has seemingly endless happy hours and serves drinks that are mostly ice. He bristiles uncomfortably as he descends the steps, but refuses to be deterred. He needs to speak to her.

He freezes when he sees her. Her elbow is propped against the edge of the table, her chin resting on her hand, an easy smile graces her lips as she listens intently to whatever Mysaria is whispering to her.

They’ve been apart for so long that he’s forgotten just how beautiful she really is. It’s like the first night he met her all over again, when he’d gotten out of the car to greet her and she’d stolen his breath away. He hadn’t let her kiss him that night, afraid she’d just be doing it for the money. He won’t make that mistake again tonight.

He walks slowly over to her table and the way her face falls when she notices him makes it feel as though his stomach is in free fall. She looks so shocked and unhappy, she’s never not been pleased to see him. He hates this.

“Can we talk?” He raises his voice to be heard above the music as he reaches their table.

She shakes her head, climbing unsteadily from her bar stool and grabbing her bag. “Oh, I am too drunk for this…”

He watches in dismay as she staggers away, flanked by Mysaria, before deciding to follow them both outside.

“Hey, wait–” He says, reaching for her, and she whips around, eyes wide and mouth tightened in anger.

“I’ll be right here,” Mysaria says softly to her, stepping to the side and pulling up the Uber app on her phone.

“No, you wait!” She shouts at him, “I have spent weeks trying to get over you. You don’t get to make someone fall in love with you and then act like that’s nothing!”

She’s in love with him?! 

He feels his chest tighten at the admission, standing there dumbfounded, he allows her to continue.

“I let you go,” She sobs, streaks of black mascara track their way down her cheeks alongside her tears, “I respected your decision, I didn’t reach out, even though I wanted to. I left you alone, so what gives you the right to ruin girls’ night?! You broke my heart and acted like you were doing me a favour, so why the fuck should I listen to anything you have to say?!”

Because I love you too.

He can’t say anything, as much as he wants to, his throat has run dry. His fingers flex uselessly by his sides, longing to reach out and wipe away the tears and make up that have run down her face.

She’s pulled away by Mysaria as an Uber pulls up to the curb and he can do nothing but watch helplessly as they drive away.

You���re losing her. Do something.

Sleep does not come for Aemond. The image of her tears plays over and over in his mind as he tosses and turns, tears from hurt that he’d caused her. 

He has experienced crying in relationships before; he’d cried when Alys ended things, but he was young and stupid and thought he was in love with a woman twice his age. Floris had bawled when he’d confronted her about what he’d overheard, but they were the crocodile tears of a desperate woman caught out for being a gold digger.

Aemond has never seen the real anguish of heartbreak before, at least not on another person, and he never wants to see it again. He has to make this right. It’s not until he feels the drip from his jaw onto his collarbone that he realises that after weeks of holding them in, his own tears have begun to fall.

It is almost midday the next day when Aemond has everything he needs prepared. The big white van he parks outside of her block of flats is cumbersome to drive in comparison to his sleek, black sports car, but he hopes the inconvenience will be worth it.

Come outside.

He texts her, relieved when the bubble displays as delivered, at least she hasn’t blocked his number.

He climbs out of the van, leaning against it, heart pounding as he looks up to see the curtains of her living room window twitch.

A few moments later she’s stepping outside, a look of confusion on her face. “What’s this?”

“An apology,” Aemond says, “Letting you go was a mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I fucked it up, it’s what I do, I fuck things up. But I’m sorry, and I want to be with you, whatever that looks like for you. I want to do this properly.”

“Why are you doing all of this now?” She asks, folding her arms defensively.

“Because I’ve tried to live without you, and I can’t. What we had was good, so fucking good, and I threw it away because I’m a coward. Just let me make this right, please?”

She sighs, “What’s in the van?”

He motions for her to follow him, and opens up the back, revealing a brand new mattress, still in its plastic wrap.

“A replacement, so I can stay over without feeling like someone has spent all night attempting to make balloon animals with my spine.”

“Presumptuous of you,” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.

Aemond shrugs, “I’m all in,”

She runs her hands through her hair, eyes flitting between him and the mattress. “How the fuck are we supposed to get this upstairs?”

He smirks. “There are removal people coming in an hour, they’ll take your old one away and bring this one up,”

“And what happens if I say no?”

“Well, that’s why I told them to leave it an hour, so I’d have time to cancel in case you did,”

He can see her fighting against the smile that tugs against the corners of her mouth. “I’m not letting you off that easily,”

“I know,” He says, taking a step towards her.

“So what do we do for the next hour?”

“We could give that old, lumpy thing on your bed upstairs a final send off,” he reaches for her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re pushing it,” she whispers.

“Hmm,” he runs the tip of his nose against her cheek, “I’ve missed you,” he presses a soft kiss to her cheek, “none of it matters,” he kisses her other cheek, “not the money, not anything,” he kisses the corner of her mouth, “not without you,”

When their lips finally meet it is slow and soft, and a contented sound rumbles within Aemond’s chest. It feels like he’s taking his first breath of air in weeks.

They waste no time in helping each other out of their clothes as they hurry upstairs. He smirks to himself as he lays back against the bed, feeling the familiar springs dig into his back, he pulls her to straddle him, allowing her to set a pace she’s comfortable with.

He moans low as she sinks slowly down onto him, the tight wet heat of her enveloping him causing his balls to tighten in a way that builds steady pressure at the base of his spine.

Gazing up at her with reverence, fingers digging into the plushness of her hips, he watches transfixed as her breasts bounce softly with each undulation, committing to memory every breathy moan and gasp. She feels like home, and it has never felt better to return.

When she eventually collapses against his chest, tightening and spasming around him as she falls apart, she takes him with her and he grunts as he feels himself pulsate and spill deep inside of her.

He strokes her hair as he holds tightly, gratitude and love overwhelming him. “You forgive me?” he asks, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m working on it,” she whispers back.

“I can wait,” he reassures her, “I’m all in.”

Chapter four || Epilogue || Series masterlist

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 27-Be Positive

CONTINUATION OF 12-BETRAYAL

"Are you sure it's okay to have a watch party here at your place, Alya?" Lila questioned.

"Are you kidding me?" Alya cried out, "It's not every day we get to see your boyfriend, Damian Wayne, on TV!"

"Did you really invite the old class?" Lila asked.

"It's like a mini reunion!" Alya giggled, "We still don't know where Marinette is, so she won't be here, if that's what you are worried about."

Lila remained silent. Marinette hadn't gone to high school with the rest of them. The class had asked her parents, but they just said she transferred elsewhere. There wasn't any reason to bring the baker's daughter into the mix that day. No one had seen her in years and as far as they knew, she never went home.

"I'm so glad we can watch it togther." Lila smiled, "I would have been there, but I have to fly with my mother to Italy tomorrow so I couldn't go."

Soon, everyone arrived. They got snacks and drinks, ready to watch the Wayne Christmas Gala on the TV.

"The Wayne family is finally here!" the announcer declared, "It seems we have the whole family in attendance! Bruce Wayne and his fiancée, Selina Kyle. We have Dick Grayson and it seems his wife and daughter aren't here this time. It seems a miracle is upon us; Jason Todd is in attendance. We also have the Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprise tonight, Tim Drake."

"It seems Damian Wayne decided to join us tonight." the announcer continued.

"I can't wait for you to see him!" Lila cooed, "I wish he had more free time so he could come to Paris and meet you all! He's so handsome!"

Damian appeared on the screen.

"Oh, he is cute."

"Not really my type, but okay."

"He looks like this dad."

"Is it me or does he look pissed off?"

"Oh, it seems he brought his newly announced fiancée, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" the announcer declared.

Lila's jaw dropped.

"Marinette!"

"Woah! She looks completely different."

"She grew her hair out! It's so long!"

"Remember whn she wore pigtails?"

Both Damian and Marinette stopped in front of the cameras for pictures.

"For those of you who don't kno the story behind Gotham's couple, it all started when Marinette Dupain-Cheng joined Wayne Enterprises at the age of eighteen." the announcer spoke, "At the age of twenty, she was running their fashion department and that is when Damian met her. Damian Wayne has stated in several interviews how he was , at first, determined to close down the department. That desire is wheat led him to meet her. We have learned that she did not cater to the Wayne ego and told him to leave her alone. Over time, Damian kept a watchful eye on her and even went as far as accusing her of seducing him. When he confronted her, months later, she punched him and quit. Bruce and Timothy Drake-Wayne begged her to stay, even attempting to raise her commission price to $200,000 for every design her completed."

The room was silent as they listened to the couple's tale.

"In the end, Marinette only desired Damian to apologize." the announcer laughed, "Our local Ice Prince then confessed he had found her attractive and distracting. It has been five years since that fated day when they started going out."

Across the screen showed pictures of the out on dates, walking in the park, eating at resturants; both cute and fancy.

"Just last month, Damian Wayne proposed." the announcer spoke, "Let's see if we can get a word in. Mr. Wayne, Miss Dupain-Cheng, there's a question viewers are dying to know."

"Maybe, we can answer." Marinette replied.

"Aside from her beauty, what drew you to dating Miss Dupain-Cheng?" they questioned.

Marinette covered her mouth, but the audio picked up a slight snort.

Damian blushed, "I was raised by my mother who taught me women were meant to be valued by thir strength, not their appearance. Marinette showed me how strong she was; that day I asked her out after she punched me in the face. Marinette is kind, smart, strong, a leader, and confident. I couldn't imagine anyone else by my side."

"Thank you for you answer, Mr. Wayne." the announced replied, shcoked, letting them walk off, "Well, there you have it folks. Out Ice Prince was dethawed by some heated words and a heated punch by Gotham's very own Sunshine!"

The TV cut to commercial and all hell broke loose.

"Lila, what the hell was that?"

"Didn't you say you were dating Damian Wayne?"

"Yeah!"

"Why is he with Marinette?"

"Why is he engaged to Marinette?"

"Are you 100% positive that you're dating Damian Wayne?"

"You think she's lying?"

"I just want to make sure before we blast Damian Wayne online as a cheater!"

"He cheated on Lila and deceived Marinette! The media is saying he's been with Mari for five years! Lila said they've been together for two years!"

"Do you have any pictures? We can use that as proof!"

"Knowing Marinette, she may just say that you're 'lying again'. She wouldn't believe you!"

Lila gulped, "I-I was lied to."

"Huh?" questioned Nino.

"The person I was dating said he was Damian Wayne, but he doesn't look like the guy on TV. I was too speechless when he came out on the screen to say anything. I'm sorry for the confusion." Lila admitted.

"Well, you better call him and tell him you just saw the Wayne Gala and know he isn't the real Damian Wayne!" shouted Alix.

"Wow! I can't believe that Marinette has been in Gotham!" spoke Nathaniel.

"Are your kidding? She's engaged to one of the world's billionares and is and is a fashion director for their company!" Kim exclaimed, "I wonder when she is coming back."

"Why would she come back here?" Adrien questioned, "Paris may be the fashion capital, but why would you lose a really good job like that?"

"Marinette's about to become Mrs. Wayne!" Rose cried out, excited.

Lila stood up, suddenly.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alya asked.

Lila had tears in her eyes, "I-I need to make a call."

"Do you need one of us to go with you?" Mylene asked out of concern.

Lila just shook her head.

Lila left the room, sobbing. After all she had done, Marinette had still won. Marinette had moved on. The baker's daughter had left the losers behind and rose the ranks to glory. She was on the verge of being fired from Gabriel. Adrien wasn't dating her, still, and was dating some other model from Shanghai. She was positive that Marinette hadn't thought of her in years. She had ruined her own life by turning Marinette against her. She had turned the person who would be the richest into her enemy and she knew she would never get a chance to have the life she desired.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[fandomtherapy44]

Castiel x reader Chapter 15

Summary: SEASON 5 WHOOOO!!!!!!!! LET's GO! So I am so excited for this season so many great episodes. There are going to be a lot more Cas and Y/n scenes. And more chapters too. I do recommend that you read my first book so you get the full Y/n Winchester build-up. Okay with out further due enjoy the second book of Love War and Grace.

Paring: Castiel x reader

word count: 3,506

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season five of Supernatural, Y/n getting hurt emotional and physical.

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

Chapter 15: Sympathy for the Devil POV (Y/n) 

All my life I believed in what I could see and what I read because that led to what I could see. Getting all my information from my Dad, Bobby, my brothers, and lore books. I never would believe in a million years that I would be standing here in an abandoned convent at age twenty-four with the Devil ascending from Hell and my best friend being an Angel who I would slap silly for making me leave.

The whole building shook more and the light beaming more bright as he approached the surface more and more. “COME ON GUYS!” I shook them out of the staring gaze and we ran to the doors that of course slammed in front of us. “Oh come on give us a Damn break!” The three of us slammed our hands on the doors. Trying to get it open. It was no use the force was trying to keep us here. “I LOVE YOU GUYS!” I shouted over the shaking. “WE LOVE YOU TOO!” I closed my eyes to not be blinded before my death but it never happened. 

“What the devil is your name” “Sa-Sa-Sa-Sa-Yo-Yosemite Sam.” “Is that freaking Lonney tunes?” I opened my eyes and on the little TV was indeed Lonney tunes. “What the hell?” Dean questioned and rightfully so. We were on a fucking plane. “Folks, quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore—” “Guys we were just in IIchester.” “So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to—” The pilot was starting to say but then the light beam came up almost crashing into the plane. The masks came down and we all grabbed one I was in the window seat and I was forced to look out to the world and the horrors that were about to unfold.

We had rented a car that we were probably never going to give back. And it seemed the whole world had seemed imploded in five minutes. “—saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown.” Never say never. “Change the station.” Dean said not wanting to hear. “—Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area—” Again changed. “—announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear—” Again. “—a series of tremors—” “—swine flu—” I reach forward and turn off the radio.

“Dean, look—” Sam didn’t even address me I don’t why. “Don't say anything.” “It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?” Pause. Sam looked like a scared kid caught he kind of was. “All right, well, first things first—How did we end up on Soul Plane?” “My guess angels right it has to be of course Cas would save us.” They both looked back at me unsure maybe it was it wasn't that was what made it scary. “Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas.” Dean finished eyes focused on the road. And then a feeling came over me like it had never come before, extreme worry.

We arrived at Chuck’s house and we slowly arrived inside our guns raised. “Chuck…” Everything had been thrown around like a tornado. Sam was turning the corner when Chuck came around and hit him with a toilet plunger. “Geez! Ow!” “Sam.” Chuck said happily. “Yeah!” Sam responded with a little sarcasm. “Hey, Chuck.”  Dean and I greeted. “So...you're okay?” He asked Sam cautiously. Sam held his head in pain. “Well, my head hurts.” “No, I mean—I mean, my—My last vision, You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black.” Dean and I were both shocked to hear that. “Your eyes went black?” Dean asked. “I didn't know.” Great that's just great. “Look let's just talk to Cas bout this I'm sure he has an answer, So chuck where he is.” I asked sounding so sure.

“He's dead. Or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry.” As soon as the words left his lips it felt like the world had titled and that the words speaking were fuzzy. “You're sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something.” Before Chuck could answer I interpreted. “Chuck… where is your bathroom?” He pointed upstairs. I slowly made my way upstairs kind of in a zombie-like state. My brothers looking at me worryingly. I entered the bathroom and just stared at the mirror. “Cas you stupid motherfuc-” I breathed in deeply trying to keep everything in but it didn't work.

The more I stared the more I got angry he was gone and I let him go. I punch the mirror and it shatters in big pieces I pick it up and look down at my broken image and end up cutting my hand. “Shit, fuck!” The pain reminded me that this was real not a nightmare. That I couldn't wake up and call for him and he would be there. I didn't have time to wrap it before I heard voices downstairs that were not there before.

But one, in particular, caught my attention fucking Zachariah. I walk back to it looks like the Angels threatening them. “You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was— —all our faults and move on. 'Cause like it or not— —it's Apocalypse Now.” They then notice me. "Ah, Y/n finally joining us I see.” I was seething with so much rage that I couldn’t muster out any words all I could do was just tighten my fucked up hand. “Huh usually you have a comeback. Aww your bestie dying really upset you huh now that's adorable.” “THATS IT” I jumped to do what against an angel I don't know what but I was going to do something. Before anything, Sam held me back. “LET ME GO!” I threw back my head hitting Sam. “Fuck- Y/n you can't touch them!” “I can try!” Zach looked very happy to see my reaction.

“NOW that’s the Winchester fight I was looking for!” “Now Dean back to you, we're back on the same team again.” Dean heavily scoffed at that. “Is that so?” “You want to kill the devil. We want you to kill the devil. It's...synergy.” “And I'm just supposed to trust you?” “Cram it with walnuts, ugly.” Zach started to look annoyed. “This isn't a game, son. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast—before he finds his vessel.” It makes sense he is well was an angel. “His vessel? Lucifer needs a meat suit?” Sam questioned.

“He is an angel. Them's the rules. And when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies— the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean, but you need our help.” “You listen to me, you two-faced douche. After what you did, I don't want jack squat from you!” Yeah, Dean! Stick it to the Angel. “You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?” I then noticed Dean’s hand and realized his plan. “You're bleeding.” Zack now realizing. “Yeah fuck head it's in case you of you showed up.” I pulled the door sideways and slammed my hand. a burst of white came through and the angel's screams went with it. “Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch.” I looked around with tears still stinging my eyes. “This sucks ass.” “Yes Chuck it really does.” I wiped my eyes and started to walk out.

We had found a shitty little motel where probably more dead people had been here than alive but it would have to do for now. I was going over any Lucifer lore I could find which was a lot while Dean meticulously cleaned his gun which was his way of doing dishes to keep something off your mind. Sam had entered throwing something at Dean. I looked and it was a hex bag. “Here. Hex bags. No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either, for that matter.” I stood to get closer to it. “Where'd you get it?” I questioned seeing the details. “I made it.” Dean and I both gaped at Sam.” like no offense but how” Sam timely glanced down and answered. “I...I learned it from Ruby.” He answered hesitantly.

“Well, at least she was somewhat useful instead of just being a lying snake bitch.” I tried to lighten the convo well in my way. Dean just asked Sam the question that we had both been wanting to ask. “Speaking of. How you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?” “I-it's weird. Uh, tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever...put me on that plane cleaned me right up.” Well that’s… convent. “Supernatural methadone.”

“Yeah, I guess.” “Guys-” “Sam. It's okay. You don't have to say anything.” Dean answered but I really didn’t know what to say. “Well, that's good. Because what can I even say? "I'm sorry"? "I screwed up"? Doesn't really do it justice, you know? Look, there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right—” “So why do you keep bringing it up?! Look, all I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope? We made a mess. We clean it up. That's it.” Sam nodded but I knew there would be more to come. “All right, so, say this is just any other hunt. You know? What do we do first?” “We'd, uh, figure out where the thing is.” I suggested. “All right. So we just got to find...the devil.” Yeah super easy.

I was still looking through lore and Sam was rereading Dad’s journal for like the thousandth time while Dean had the news on that was reminding us that the world was ending. “How would you then explain an earthquake, a hurricane, and multiple tornadoes, all at the same time, all around the globe?” The guy that was the scientist was trying to make sense. “Two words. Carbon emissions.” “Yeah, right, wavy gravy” Dean scarasacally replied. There's a knock on the door and we weren't expecting anyone so Sam goes to open the door with his gun ready. But uh there's someone there that we definitely did not know.

“You okay, lady?” “Sam...is it really you?” Sam looked back at us confused as hell and a little scared. This Becky steps in the room bewildered to be looking at Sam holding him tightly. “Uh, do I know you?” She let him go. “No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're—” She looked to Dean and was Disaponited. “—not what I pictured. I'm Becky.” Then she saw me. “And you are Y/n Winchester let me just say that I aspire to be as badass as you every day.” She shook my hand hard. “Uh thank you.”

“I read all about you guys. And I've even written a few—” A few WHAT? Maybe I don’t want to know. “Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were.” “Chuck?” “He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels. Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.” I wish I could pick which monsters I fight day to day. “Right. Just, um...what's the message?” Sam questioned. “He had a vision. "The Michael sword is on earth. The angels lost it."” She repeated dramatically.

“The Michael sword?” Dean asked. “Becky, does he know where it is?” “In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs.” “Becky, what the Fuck does that mean?”   “It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said.” Becky stepped closer again to Sam. “I memorized every word. For you.” She hugged Sam tight again. “Uh, Becky can you stop hugging me?” “No” “Okay Becky thank you.” I grabbed her but she had a bit of a death grip. “Becky Let go!” “Never!” 

We had finally gotten Becky outside but holy shit she could be a contender for a strong man contest. There’s another knock on the door and thankfully it wasn't a crazy fangirl. “Hey Bobby” It was good to see him especially after... Cas. When I went to hug him something felt different maybe it was the situation but it felt muddy hugging him. “Good to see you kids all in one piece.” “You weren't followed, were you?” Dean checked with Bobby. “You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?” We all chuckled. “I heard, Romeo. So...sword of Michael, huh?” “You think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?” “You better friggin' hope so.” Bobby opened a lore book to a picture to the Archangel Michael.

“That's Michael. Toughest son of a bitch they got.” “You kidding me? Tough? That guy looks like Cate Blanchett.” Dean committed. “Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me. He commands the heavenly host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword.” “So if we can find it…” “We can kick the devil's ass all over again. All right. So, where do we start?” Sam finalized. “Divvy up and start reading—try and make sense of Chuck's nonsense.” I go back to the lore while Bobby asks Sam “Kid? You all right?” “No, actually. Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry.”

Dean and I look at each other In what’s about to happen. “Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal.” “Sam-” “I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.” “You what?” Bobby was confused. “You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on” Oh Sam. “You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant.” “I'm sorry.” “Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off...I want you to lose my number. You understand me?” What the Hell!? I understood that he messed up but he’s Sam our Family I would have to talk to Bobby later. “There's an old church nearby. Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there.” “Yeah. You do that.”  “Sam I'll come too.” “You sure?” “Yeah let’s go.” 

The church was kind of abandoned everyone had gone home to their families with all the horrible shit going down. The books had dust covered all over them. “Um I'll start here and I'll start here.” Sam pointed a direction for me but I think he needed a different one. “Sam what Bobby said he didn't mean it.” “Yeah sure he didn't.” We sat on a table. “We just all are scared.” “Y/n why haven’t you said anything to me about Ruby?”

“Well, I don’t think me saying I told you so would help anything.” “But aren’t you angry at me? Hate me.” I was shocked at that. “Sam of course I'm… angry but I could never Hate you.” “Really?” He stared at me tears welling up. “With Dean dying last year and… Cas I don’t think we have time to hate. Why would I waste time hating when I could love the people who mean the most. Sam, you're human you made a mistake now you get to make up for it.” I smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “You're the best sister a brother could ask for.” “And you're the best big brother a sister could ask for.” We hugged. “Okay let's actually look.” Sam sniffled and went to the books.

While I somehow made my way to the front of the church sighing and sitting on the pew. “Ha, I can't believe I'm here again.” “Look, God, I know me talking to you is kind of insane you know I didn't even believe in you until a prayer was answered. By an Angel who saved my life.” The tears came rolling down. “Castiel you can't be… dead there I said it you can't because I'm still here because of you so you have to be too.” I wiped the tears. “Y/n you okay?” “Uh yeah let's go”

We walked into chaos Bobby was on the floor bleeding out. “NO!” “Heya, Sammy. You miss me? 'Cause I sure missed you.”  A woman demon said. “Meg?” FUCK “Hey N/n I heard you had an angel on your shoulder where is he?” She tilted her head in amusement. “Oh, you asked for it Bitch!” I punched her square in the nose. “I see you got better at fighting good I like a challenge.” She kicked at my feet but I dodged it and threw her against the wall. The three of us cornered her and she smoked out like a coward. “Bobby!” I applied pressure to the stab.

We had gotten to the storage room after dropping Bobby at the ER even though we wanted to stay. We entered and there were two dead demons on the ground. “I see you told the demons where the sword is.” “Oh, thank god. The angels are here.” “And to think...they could have grabbed it any time they wanted.” Zach peered at Dean. “It was right in front of them.” “What do you mean?” “We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us.” I glanced around seeing no sword.

“I knew you were ugly Zach but not blind.” I practically spit out to him. “We don't have anything.” “It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword.” “What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one.” “What do you mean, I'm the sword?” “You're Michael's weapon. Or, rather, his...receptacle.” “I'm a vessel?” “You're the vessel. Michael's vessel.” “How? Why—why me?” “Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean.” Zach is being a huge ass. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks.” “Joking. Always joking. Well...no more jokes.” Zach raises his hands like guns. “Bang.” And suddenly my leg is broken. “AHH” So is Sam’s.

“You son of a bitch!” “Keep mouthing off, I'll break more than their legs. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?”  “How many humans die in the crossfire, huh? A million? Five, ten?” “Probably more. If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive.” “There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me. You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin.” “Unfortunately, yes.” “Well, there's got to be another way.” “There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written.” “Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand... Eat me. The answer's no.” “Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again.” “No.”

“Then how about we heal you from...stage-four stomach cancer?” Dean doubles over spilling blood. “No.” “Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how...Sam does without his lungs. And Y/n no heart.” He snapped his fingers and I felt my body stiffen up. “Are we having fun yet? You're going to say yes, Dean” “Just kill us.” “Kill you? Oh, no. I'm just getting started.” There was a burst light then talking but I couldn't make it out. Then the pain stopped I looked up and It was Cas standing over me putting his hand over my heart. “Cas….” Then everything went black.

“CAS!” I woke up in a hospital bed. “Woah woah take kid take it easy your heart literally can't take it.” It was Dean. “Dean, what happened?” “Uh, Cas came in saving us he healed you.” “Where is he?”I dont know.” “The doctors said that you probably wouldn't have made it if you had not the CPR aka the Angel healing. But they want to keep you for observation.” “How's Bobby?” “About to find out you just rest kid we have lots to tell you after.” “Kay” He left and I am left to think. But I knew whatever what was going to happen it was going to be okay. With Cas alive everything was okay.

AN/ Ok everyone that was the first chapter in season 5 I hope everyone is as excited as am for the future. And don't worry we will have a proper Cas and Y/n meet up next chapter. Thank you for reading! see you yawl xoxo Gossip Girl ;);)

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (31 Mar-6 Apr 2024)

lady constance is a seven foot tall badger and knows acab

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

pretty much nothing! It was a rough reading week! The first part of the week I was fairly consumed with the D20 I was watching & not reading much. Then I spent FIVE DAYS reading a little over half of a 258K fic before finally accepting that though it was pretty well written and not bad, I just wasn't into it and the thought of fighting thru another 120K was appalling, so I bailed.

and I did read about 20K of shorter stuff but nothing I want to shout out so.

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

This Is Going To Hurt - s1, e1

QI - series S, ep 10-12

Death In Paradise - s11, e2-3

D20: Mice & Murder - "The Stabber of the Evening" (s9, e4)

D20: Mice & Murder - "The Eye of the Storm" (s9, e5)

D20: Mice & Murder - "Busted" (s9, e6)

D20: Mice & Murder - " I've Been Here the Whole Time" (s9, e7)

D20: Mice & Murder - "Outfoxed" (s9, e8)

D20: Mice & Murder - "The Belly of the Beast" (s9, e9)

D20: Mice & Murder - "Unfinished Business" (s9, e10)

D20: Adventuring Party - s4, e4-10 [Mice & Murder]

D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Infernal Conflict" (s21, e13)

D20: Adventuring Party - "All Pulp, No Juice" (s16, e13)

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

What Next: TBD - The Psychological Toll of Mars

Working - How a Magician Designs Original, Mind-Blowing Tricks

Hit Parade - The Bridge: Like a Revamped Stone

Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #7: Kahuna

WikiHole - Greek Easter (with Ellie Kemper, Josh Sharp and Aaron Jackson!)

Welcome to Night Vale #245 - Fridge-worthy

Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep7 "Kahuna"

Today, Explained - Making taxes less taxing

I Said No Gifts! - Tig Notaro Disobeys Bridger

⭐ Switched on Pop - Cowboy Carter: This Ain't Country

Consider This from NPR - Measuring The Economic Impact Of Baltimore's Port Closure

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter

⭐ Vibe Check - This Ain't Texas, This Is Vibe Check

Better Offline - Wikipedia Is All The Web Has Left ft. Molly White

Wiser Than Me - Julia Gets Wise with Bonnie Raitt

Short Wave - How To Make The Most Of Next Week's Solar Eclipse

Ologies with Alie Ward - Heliology (THE SUN/ECLIPSES) with India Jackson and Michael Kirk

99% Invisible #576 - Chambre de Bonne

Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #8: The Catch

Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Untranslatable Words

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Ripley

Song Exploder - Shania Twain - You're Still The One

Off Menu - Ep 238: Katy Wix

Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep8 "The Catch"

Choice Words - Live in Fear or Love? (with Karamo)

What Next: TBD - Truth Social’s Rocky Week

Short Wave - The "Barcodes" Powering These Tiny Songbirds' Memories May Also Help Human Memory

⭐ Pop Culture Happy Hour - Monkey Man And What's Making Us Happy

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Nevada Week: The Martin

Endless Thread - Nerd Fight

Strong Songs - "The Way" by Meshell Ndegeocello

Today, Explained - The Sephora kids

It's Been a Minute - Is DEI a slur now? Plus, control & basketball

Radiolab - The Moon Itself

Choice Words - Choices We Made: Stay Silent or Sue the Cops? (with Eric André)

Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me! - Chris Pine

Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #9: The King of Cups

Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep9 "The King of Cups"

Under the Influence - Cheeky Advertising

In Defense of Fandom - Season 2 Episode 1: What makes a TV ending?

Dinner’s on Me - Kristen Bell

Dinner’s on Me - Dax Shepard

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Louis Jordan

Ozzy Osbourne

Meshell Ndegeocello

Cowboys + Queens

[emawinslow]

HIIII CARMEN 😁😁😁😺

1, 6, and 12 for the ask game pls

HIIIII TALIA!!!!🤓

what are three shows in your watchlist that you've been meaning to get to?

only three. well freaks and geeks has been there for literal years. succession and I'm not just saying that because it's you I've been meaning to I promise. and the bachelor season 24. which is next on my list and I don't care I love trashy reality tv sue me

what do you use to keep your place when you're reading a book?

well I mean anything really. generally a sticky note but I do have an actual painted bookmark I got from somewhere for free. the other day I was straight up using a hair tie tho it's the wild wild west

what's something about your best friend that you love?

im not just gonna say one thing that's criminal and insulting to her. I met her in senior year english class and we happened to be in the same choir class and she was new to the school because of some truly insane circumstances and there are a million different universes where we didn't meet but I'm so beyond fucking happy we live in this one. I've had best friends before but nobody has truly been here for me like she has. no matter what you say to her she handles it with grace. she doesn't make me feel judged for anything I say or do. I say this with love but she's an absolute ditz but she doesn't take herself seriously so we can just laugh and laugh about the things she says. she's one of the funniest people I've ever met in my life. her instagram stories are some of my favorite things ever. she's always willing to give people a second chance. but somehow she still talks shit with the best of them. she's such a generous person and has amazing tastes in movies and she can bring up the same joke twenty times in a day but still manages to make it funny. she's always down for some ridiculous bullshit adventure we decide to do on a whim. she loves live music and has this hilarious intense one sided beef with dua lipa. she manages to tease me in a way that doesn't ever feel insulting. she cuts hair and is really fucking good at it even though she only goes to class when she has to. she's the most talented makeup artist (that makes it sound like she's licensed or something) I've ever known in my life like I'm serious. she's incredible. she's so confident and never afraid to just be the most honest embarrassing version of herself possible. she literally has a five nights at freddy's themed car. even in the face of the most dire circumstances she always has the faith that everything is gonna work out. and it does. she has a lifetime of ridiculous anecdotes and she attracts weird people and always has some new story to tell of some completely bullshit thing somebody said to her the other day. she got hit by a car one time before we even met but she always laughs when we talk about it. she loves metal music but her favorite song is no hands. she has a beautiful voice and she isn't afraid at all to scream songs in the car. she's obsessed with hummus. she has great style I'm always obsessed with every outfit she wears. and well I could go on but I love her a lot🫶

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Defiled

(Just me torturing my oc Silver some more to vent some feelings. Tw: this story has some clear SA allegories. Nothing explicit but yes it's intentional. Warning for homophobic and sexist slurs).

Boys will be boys.

Kids will be kids.

It doesn't matter if they're in their twenties. It doesn't matter if they are old enough to drive, to drink, own property or even have kids of their own. Some men will always be boys, the world little more than a playground for their amusement, rules there to be broken.

The five of them are on a stag weekend. Johnny boy is getting hitched to the barmaid in town, who he also happened to knock up a year ago. Tied down already but might as well make it official for tax benefits. His last few days of freedom, him and his pals are doing an epic crawl across Surrey, grabbing any taxi they can and crashing the nearest pub to drink themselves stupid, annoy the country bumpkin locals, and then move on.

No taxi rank at the last place, so they're taking the journey on foot, hiking across woods and fields in the dead of night. Simon and Chris are using their phones as torches to light the way, though everyone is stumbling and falling arse over head every seven steps.

"SWEET CAROLINE! WOAH WOAH WOAH!" They croon, ducking their heads to not bump into the branches of the trees. "GOOD TIMES NEVER SEEMED SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD!"

"Oi, ain't we near that fancy golf hotel? I 'ear they got a members bar, bet they do shots!" Kyle pipes.

"It's half ten, ya numpty, they ain't gonna be open are they!" Chris slapped him on the back of the head.

"Posh arse place like that won't let the likes of you chavs in anyhow."

"Ey, who you calling a chav? I earn more than you, ya prick!"

"All about style, not money, bruv, and that's where some of us got class and some ain't!" Simon swaggered, while the others made mocking hoots as he tilted the stripper's police cap on his head.

They decided to cut across the golf course to reach the main road, very little in the way of fencing. A few decided to relieve themselves on some of the holes and bunkers, writing messages in the sand for the greenkeepers.

"Clean me." "Thanks mate!" "Hole in 1!"

Along with some dick images of course.

"Sure you don't wanna try breaking into that members bar? Ain't a good stag do unless the groom to be ends up in jail."

"Sod that. Let's just get on the coke already. Ey, look, some benches near them trees." Pointed Kyle.

"You wanna do lines off a bench, you scummer?"

"Think we're gonna come across another surface soon? You got us kicked out the last place by grabbing that waitress. She weren't even fit! Who ate all the pies, ey?"

Laughter from their group sent the squirrels running into the trees and the deer to their dens. But the boys had enough sense to keep the volume down enough not to be picked up by the hotel, all the way across the course.

Only a few lights were on in the building, mostly upstairs for the residents watching TV.

An hour later, the bench is covered with white powder as if it had been snowing in July. The boys are daring each other to climb trees and pose for stupid pictures, Simon trying to chase a poor deer to make Johnny try to snog it.

"Ey lads! Check this out!" Kyle called them over, rubbing his nostrils.

"What the fuck is that?"

They gathered around the weird ass shrine. Lots of flowers and little statues set up as if around an invisible coffin.

"This a grave? In the middle of the woods? Who does that?"

"Maybe it's for someone's dog."

"Nah, look here." Simon pointed to a sketch on the tree, above a plaque; "Some bird who croaked here. Silver Ravenstar. What kind of fucking name is that?!"

"Check out all the symbols. Must have been some hippy, tree hugging witch bitch."

They'd all attended good, Christian schools, not that it would be easy to see, or that any of them seemed to give a shit until tonight.

"Says in brackets 'Louise Smith'. Died about twenty years ago."

Kyle whipped out his phone; "Give us a sec." Quick Google search, though he misspelled a little in his coked state; "....Fuck. Only one newspaper from years back about a girl who was found here dead. No suspicious reason. Suspected....Ha! Suspected drug usage but most likely natural causes. Bitch was some crazy little junkie."

"Fuck that! My old man gets his leg blown off in Afghanistan - he kills himself two weeks later and gets fuck all 'cause we can't afford a decent funeral for him. But this devil worshipping cunt who no-one heard of gets this set up?!" Johnny spat against the picture.

The boys shared similar looks. Anything that made Johnny boy think of his dad was a touchy issue.

"She was probably the daughter of the hotel owner. Or some rich golfing twat who comes here." Despite not being anything close to poor, the lads were middle-working class enough to hate on both those above and below in wealth.

Simon laughed and lay atop the flowers, on his belly.

"You reckon she's buried here? She probably died a virgin! Reckon I can pop her cherry in the afterlife?!" He unzipped his flies, as if ready to begin humping the ground.

Johnny kicked his sides; "Nah, look at that sket. Bet she had already been with all sorts before she snuffed it. I met some freaky Pagans in college, d'you know they do all their spells naked? Sometimes even have orgies? It's manic!"

Chris grabbed at the little bisexual pride flag hung up; "Of course she was a fucking dyke as well!"

He laughed as he crumpled it up and threw it to the dirt.

"Let's make this little memorial more fitting, shall we lads?"

Simon tossed Johnny a can of spray paint. He shook it up, the contents light as they'd used most of it on the bus stops in the village.

Kyle picked up a rock and scratched the name from the engraving. Simon then sprayed over the tree with the more appropriate name.

No hammers or knives. But they found what they needed in the Earth around them, ironically.

False idols were to be broken, Johnny remembered from Sunday school, though Chris made a show of snogging and pretending to thrust into the statue of some goddess welding a bow, the crescent moon as her crown.

A few more lines snorted on the log chair set up close by. More words carved into the trees.

And then Johnny boy struck the match.

"BURN THE WITCH! BURN THE WITCH!"

"Fuck yeah, burn in hell, you little slut, you fucking nobody!" Johnny dropped it upon the mound of flowers.

The alcohol from the cans of beer they'd been swigging as they danced and trampled over the site made the flames spread rapidly. Within three seconds, every bit of colour, every petal and stem, had been devoured. The boys stepped back as the smoke rose into a thick pillar escaping through the tree tops.

"Shit! Put that out! Before someone sees, then we're really gonna be in it!" Simon hissed.

The boys stomped their boots on the ground until every flame was snuffed.

"Get them fucking embers, man!"

All any of them had in the way of non-alcoholic liquid was a half-full can of Monster Monarch, which Kyle tossed on the last few glowing specks.

"That all of them?"

"Think so. Quick, let's get the fuck out of here."

"Where to next? Wanna piss on Stonehenge?" Chris asked, to which all the lads laughed, their arms around each others shoulders as they stumbled into the night.

Many people had barbecues this time of year. Burning was such a common smell that Robin paid little attention to it. His nostrils flare as he enters the woods, noticing it's getting closer. But there's no sign of any flames that would be easy to spot on a night like this.

And yet, there is smoke....

"Sorry me late!" He called out, sure she had to be awake by now. The sun had set nearly an hour ago. "Got too into Stompy's horror movie 'bout creepy clown....Moonah girl?"

Had she already gone off to the hotel? Wait. He sniffed, smelling her close. No trail. He was in the right direction.

And then, a tiny sound. A snuffle. A cry.

"Moonah girl?!"

He rushed forward. Then he saw.

"Oh...No...."

The mound of blue flowers surrounded by Alison's added lilies and roses was now a large patch of grey ash and black, shriveled stems. Fragments of smashed white resin and porcelain and glass littered the site. Sketches and flags had been shredded and now became caught by the night breeze. Across the tree barks surrounding the bed, sprayed in red, were the words...

Whore. Slut. Dyke.

Burn The Witch. Burn in Hell. Burn. Burn. Burn.

And there, laying upon the ash, was the witch herself. Sobbing, curled into a fetal position around the smashed framed sketch of...

Robin's fists curled at his sides, knuckles turning white. His jaw clenched.

How. Dare. They.

Silver continued to weep, her body racked with aching sobs, one hand next to Alison's drawing of Mary.

"....Who?" Was all Robin asked.

Static fizzled between his fingertips.

"Who?! Who did it?!"

She didn't answer. She didn't care. Not really. They were most likely gone now. They were nobody. Just as she'd been nobody to them. And yet the mere idea of her enough had encouraged such cruelty. Such perverse abuse upon a girl already long dead.

Her gods. Her bed. Her...Her Mary. Destroyed.

The caveman gingerly reached his paw to touch her arm. Only then did she finally scream.

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s01ep13 “Clara's Folks” Review and Commentary

Previous episodes linked HERE

In this episode: Clara and the boys are at risk of being wiped from existence because Marty doesn't know how to say no to a nine-year-old.

And just like that, here we are at the last episode of season 1.

Doc begins his broadcast by carrying in a box and explaining that Clara has been urging him to do some serious cleaning and get rid of all the junk he's gathered over the years. One particular item catches his eye, and he pulls it out to show us, explaining that it was his entry into the 1932 Hilly Valley Junior Science Fair (which would have put him at 10 years old according to his birth year in the animated series).

Doc: "A videotape recorder with full 14-day programming capability. It worked perfectly! Too bad there weren't any TV sets around."

So, yeah. That's something Doc did, evidently.

The next thing he finds is one of my favorite parts of these live-action segments. Doc retrieves a videotape from the box and tells us that he was tight on money a few years back and had to resort to selling some of his inventions on the home shopping network. He pops the tape into the VCR, and we get to see a clip of one of his infomercials featuring the new and improved mind-reading helmet he's perfected. It's wonderfully silly.

Now I want to know about these financial issues Doc was having? What's the story there? Did he not have any ethical qualms about selling a functioning mind-reading device to the general public? How is such powerful technology being sold for only TWENTY DOLLARS?

The Back to the Future universe it truly a strange place.

Doc also shows us a net, which he says belonged to Clara's father, Daniel. Doc speaks very highly of the man and says the two met back in 1850, five years prior to Clara's birth. This little story then brings us into the cartoon to hear the full story.

While Doc is doing some work on a giant robot, Jules and Verne enter, having just arrived home from school. Jules tells his father he "discovered two new elements in chemistry class," to which Doc replies, "Everyone's entitled to a slow day now and then." Verne, however, had a horrible day and is majorly bummed out about something.

Meanwhile, Marty—who is also at the Brown residence—is playing his guitar that always makes me annoyed to look at because it has these two pathetic little strings on the body and then zero strings going up the neck.

It just. It makes no sense. How is he playing this thing? It makes appearances in multiple episodes, and it never has strings on it. Is this supposed to be some kind of ultra-futuristic guitar that Doc bought him? If so, couldn't they have at least mentioned that in passing so that my mind could be at peace? (It's like they weren't even considering me in this decision at all. Rude.) Is it that terribly difficult to draw a few strings on a cartoon guitar?

Verne storms into the room and tells Marty why his day was so bad. Turns out a classmate, Roland Culver, was bragging about his grandfather's accomplishments, which upset Verne since he never had a chance to know his grandparents or any of the cool things they might have done in life. Marty points out that Verne does know some stories about Clara's parents and directs him to a frame on the wall. It contains a piece of buckboard from Martha and Daniel's wagon, on which their wedding announcement was burned into the wood.

Verne goes on to recite some of the story he's heard a hundred times, informing us that Martha and Daniel met on the Oregon Trail and married that same day.

Wanting to get solid proof of his grandparents' love story, Verne announces that he's going to travel back in time to meet them. I'm glad to say that Marty, who is typically a major enabler of the boys' shenanigans, does warn Verne about the dangers of going back in time and meeting relatives. Verne doesn't see the big deal.

"Don't get your shorts in a wad," he tells Marty. "I'm just gonna take a stinkin' picture." Verne is such a little smart-mouth, and I love the dynamic he has with Marty.

Unfortunately, even the plethora of bad things Marty experienced as a result of messing with the past isn't enough to motivate him to put a stop to Verne's plan. He ends up tagging along with them to 1850.

One neat detail in this episode is that we actually get some of the BTTF part III music in the 1850 scenes. In the one pictured above, we hear a few seconds of the music that plays as Marty walks through the town after leaving Seamus' house. And a few seconds later, as the boys are all running from a buffalo stampede, we hear the music that plays when Doc and Marty are attempting to get the horses to pull the DeLorean up to 88mph. It's very cool.

Marty, Jules, and Verne are saved from the stampede by none other than Clara's mother, Martha, who falls in love with Marty the moment she sees him. Marty is not thrilled by this development.

I mean, I don't know, McFly. Maybe you should simply stop being so ruggedly handsome and irresistible to every woman you come across. Have you considered that?

A whole line of wagons show up then, with Clara's father being the last one to arrive. He causes a collision because he's too busy reading a book to pay attention to where he's going, and we're obviously supposed to get the impression that he's a nerd.

"That's Grandpa? I hope Roland Culver never hears about this," Verne comments, ashamed of his bowtie-wearing, bookworm of a grandfather.

Poor Daniel Clayton.

The group plus Marty and the boys continue along the trail, and Jules laments that he now has to repair the damage done to the DeLorean during the stampede, along with figuring out how to undo the damage to their family tree. The future isn't looking too good for Clara's side of the family. Martha has tied Marty up and is insisting that they get married.

She literally tells him that she won't set him free until he agrees to walk down the aisle with her. And you know what? Clara is a lovely person, but her mother? Not liking her so far.

Marty manages to escape and ends up in Daniel's wagon, where Daniel confesses that he's got a crush on Martha, who doesn't even know he exists. Marty tells Daniel he's going to help him win Martha's affection.

Also, Daniel is a bug enthusiast. His wagon is just filled with jars of bugs. I like him a lot.

As part of his plan to make Daniel more appealing to Martha, Marty helps to give him a makeover of sorts—exchanging his formal clothing for cowboy attire.

Daniel: "Will this really make the lovely Miss O'Brien notice me?"

Verne: "Yeah, and she'll say, 'Who's the stinkin' geek?'"

VERNE. Verne, you are not helping.

That evening at dinner, Marty urges Daniel to go and talk to Martha, but he's interrupted by none other than "Wild Bill" Tannen, who also has eyes for Martha. He ends up kidnapping her after she witnesses him stealing from their gold.

We then take a scene jump to the present day, where something alarming is happening to Clara. She's beginning to become transparent. Which is, um, not a good sign.

She's oblivious to her current state and very upset that someone has "sanded" the wedding announcement off of the buckboard. Doc assures her that he'll take care of things and instructs her not to look in any mirrors.

After taking the time train to 1850, Doc sets out with Marty, Daniel, and Jules to find Martha (and Verne, who has gone to rescue her on his own). They have trouble trying to track them down, but it's okay because Martha and Verne manage to escape on their own after Wild Bill blinds himself with the flash from Verne's camera. They don't get too much time to relax, though, seeing as a giant bear finds them a moment later.

From over on a nearby cliff, Jules spots his brother and grandmother, who appear seconds away from becoming bear-chow. After taking some time to survey the land, Doc spots a nearby geyser and recognizes that the area they're in will eventually become Yellowstone National Park. Doc yells down for Verne to lay some buffalo hide over the opening of the geyser and sit on it with Martha. When the geyser soon erupts, they're lifted up into the air and out of harm's way. Doc and Daniel then use the covering for a wagon to construct a paraglider and swoop in to catch Marth and Verne once the geyser stops.

This heroic rescue wins Martha over, and she falls in love with Daniel, setting the timeline right. During their ceremony, Daniel (the bug enthusiast, remember?) catches a butterfly, which he says is a new species. He names it after Martha.

We return to the present day, where Verne is showing the picture of the butterfly to his class as part of his show-and-tell. Roland Culver tells Verne that he has a cool grandfather. End of cartoon.

Back in the garage, we find Doc in a state we don't often see him in: angry.

Except, surprise. The big goofball was just pretending. In fact, he was doing "geyser talk," which brings us into a little lesson on how geysers work, along with an experiment to create one using boiling water and a funnel.

After the experiment portion with Bill Nye, we go back to Doc, who is wearing glasses. I'm not sure why. But he looks nice in them. They compliment his face well.

Anyway, that's the end of the episode.

This was a fun one, and I really liked getting to see Clara's parents. You can see where she got the various aspects of her personality from. Strong-headed and tough like her mother, yet sensitive and intelligent like her father. Revisiting season 1 has been nice, and I'm excited to begin season 2, which I've never seen before.

Join me next week for the first episode of season 2, in which Marty lies to Jennifer, then sneaks off with Verne to 1697 so that Verne can get an earring in the Caribbean. ??? Really, Marty??

(I use the Futurepedia summaries to write the "join me next week" parts, btw. Very intrigued by. Whatever is going on in the next episode.)

[outrunningthedark]

Here’s my question regarding Lone Star’s lack of success: is it really because of Tarlos? I’m not saying it isn’t part of it but I also think there are many variables as to why the show isn’t as popular. 1. Typically spin-offs don’t do as well

2. Rob Lowe isn’t enough to keep people week over week or season over season

3. The tone isn’t the same as OG leading many not to tune in

4. COVID hurt them a lot more than OG as they weren’t able to build the fan base

Maybe I’m misunderstanding you (apologize if that is the case) but I don’t think you can place as much blame on Lone Star’s lack of success on Tarlos as I think you do. 🤷🏻‍♀️

The problem with this entire ask is that you're basing the "lack of success" for LS on your perception of things instead of adding facts to the equation.

First, spinoffs not doing as well as the original may have been a valid argument at one time, but in this era of TV? Spinoffs are the reason franchises won't die. Law & Order. NCIS. One Chicago. The FBIs. If a spinoff was doomed to fail, we'd have A LOT more original programming every season. And if we're being honest? Spinoffs "don't do as well" because the creators changed something from the original and the fan base isn't open to those changes. It's much deeper than "it's just not as good".

Secondly, and this is gonna come as a shock to many of you, but Rob Lowe the actor? Kind of a big deal in Hollywood. He did not need LS to be put back on the map/get back into the spotlight. You know how people accept Peter Krause's status (even when we didn't necessarily know of him) because of his work on Six Feet Under? Yeah, well. Ever heard of a show called The West Wing? Guess who got critical acclaim for his part? I promise you that anyone continuing to watch LS in year five is doing so because of Rob. Because they recognize him. They respect his work. We cannot say people are tuning in for Marjan or Paul or Mateo or even Tommy when Owen IS the show. And listen, we all love Angela, but let's not act like OG is still head and shoulders above all else when there are other series with the same number of seasons (or even more) that pull in more viewers more consistently. People are sick of OG's shit, too.

Lastly, and most importantly, I never said Tarlos is THE reason viewership is down with the spinoff. I said (more than once) that OG has shown us Tim didn't have faith in the fan base to support a gay relationship between two men that wasn't happening in the background. Michael could have been a first responder. His love life would have gotten more attention. Buck could have been confirmed bi while dating women. Same with Eddie. The fact that neither one of those things happened in SIX YEARS, not even early on when the characters were still being fleshed out, tells you it wasn't worth the risk of losing the audience to "the gay agenda". (Again. Remember who the shows are actually for. Angela and Peter and Rob aren't supposed to be encouraging teenagers and those in their early or mid twenties to tune in. It's gonna be viewers more in their age range.)

So when we look at LS and see an openly gay man playing a gay man alongside an actor who turns out to be bi IRL, when we see that relationship experience intimacy the same way the straight characters do, we're really gonna try and pretend it didn't and still doesn't influence people's decision to disengage?

The OG audience - the people not on social media! - wanted OG, Pt. II. That's not what they got.

[pitchshitterarchiver]

PITCHSHIFTER INTERVIEW IN 1998:

Back inside the cool, air-conditioned confines of the band's tour bus, which Jon has dubbed "The Dolphin" (affectionately or in spite, I'm not sure), we escape the heat and sit down to do the interview. I'm nervous as hell. I've been waiting a long, long time to see Pitchshifter in person, and to end up lucky enough to be able to speak with Jon Clayden beforehand is both a nightmare and a dream come true. Despite my foot getting stuck in my mouth a few times I find Jon (and all the band) to be generous and kind, well-spoken and intelligent, and, above all, to have a wicked, wicked sense of humor--but of course.

In the end I discover a tight-knit band, both musically and as friends, and who, after a long road together, are happy to finally have their music getting some well deserved notice, and glad to finally be allowed to focus on it exclusively on their own terms--all with the support of their new label.

How's the tour been so far? Any memorable moments?

J.S. Clayden: Oh, a million! The tour's been really good. America's always insane 'cause every state's a different country. We played in Reno the night before last night, and there's some curfew for under twenty-one's in the town center after nine-thirty or ten, or something mad like that! So you can be married, with kids, have your own business, but you're still not allowed to go into the town center. Things like that make me realize how insane America is. There'd be a riot in European countries if that was the case. It'd be like "RIOTTT!!!" Ha ha! There've been a lot of memorable moments. Meeting Jello Biafra in San Francisco. He came to the show and said he really liked our stuff, and talked about working together. My jaw hit the floor and I was like "Aaahhh!!! You're Jello Biafra and I'm no one!" That was really cool. Fear Factory came out to one of the shows. The weird chick from the Addams Family movies turned up for one--can't remember her name. It's been quite mad meeting those people.

So now that you've been from one end of the country to the other, and have spent a whole lot of time in-between in the midwest, what's your take on American culture?

J.S.: I think American culture is like any other culture--it's just tits, beer, and shit TV. It's the same in Germany, it's the same in England. We read The Sun newspaper in England, which has an average reader age of eight, and which is the highest selling newspaper; whereas a paper like The Guardian that actually does have some valid points is way down on the list.

But as in any culture there's fucking really cool things in America that you don't get in other countries. Because we are from four-thousand miles east, the way people perceive us is really different. I think we actually, and I don't mean it in an arrogant way, but when we come to America people actually take us for our worth. In England you're nothing special and you're instantly dismissed, even though when we play there we play for a thousand people. But you can never really make that jump in England to be like Nirvana or whatever 'cause of that mystique of coming from somewhere miles away and, you know… I think when we come to America people do listen to our music and go, "We don't have any music like this here. This is indicative of where they come from and what they do." We're taken more on the value of what we're worth rather than "being cool."

Well, people here have definitely been looking forward to seeing you come and play. I know a lot of people, including myself, who have been waiting quite awhile to see you actually make it out to the west coast...

J.S.: People say that, say stuff like, "I've been waiting for six years to see you play and stuff." And it just freaks me out and I feel kinda bad 'cause we're just the support band and we only do forty-five minutes. Sorry you've been waiting for six years, I wish we could play longer.

Leave them wanting more for the next time you come back…

J.S.: We're going to be back in October or November. After this tour we do three weeks around Europe on the Vans European Warped Tour with The Specials, NOFX, Civ and The Deftones. Then we do two weeks in Australia headlining, a week headlining in Japan, then a couple of gigs in the UK because everyone gets upset when we don't play in England for ages. And then we're going to come straight back to America.

Is it going to be another coast to coast?

J.S.: I hope so. It should be a couple of months, probably until around Christmas.

Do you like being out on the road?

J.S.: I don't think I have any option. Ha! I think yeah, it's a nice lifestyle. It's kind of compulsive and destructive simultaneously. There's a lot of benefits. You get to meet a lot of people, exchange a lot of ideas, see a lot of things that other people will never see in their lifetime, experience a lot of stuff. One day we're up the CN tower and the next day we're on a rollercoaster atop a tower in Las Vegas. You think, "God, what are we doing? It's madness!"

I dunno, you can probably squeeze in what would take nice people half their life in like three months. But it's also quite destructive. Don't get me wrong, I used to drive a delivery truck--a waste of all my years in college. This is a far more productive thing to do with your life, I think. But it can be really destructive--it's impossible to have a girlfriend. We all had girlfriends before this tour, and we all went, "Hey honey, I'll be back on Christmas Day." And they all went, "Don't come back." Heh. So there are negative aspects. Luckily none of us have children or pets.

[sadandcha0tic]

More Than a Friend; a short story by me

“Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?” 

“I’m fucking sure, just go already… please.”

“Ugh, fine, fuck you then,” he said, speeding off in his car. He being my boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend, Lewis. 

The reason for that he is now my ex is that I just found out that he has been sleeping with my best friend, Lilliana, for over five months. We’ve been together for six. Naturally, I told him to fuck off. Gotta pretend like I actually liked him and wasn’t just using him so people wouldn’t find out that I’m a flaming fucking lesbian. 

That ended with me, here, in the middle of the parking lot of a restaurant that's a 30-minute drive from my house, with no money and no ride. Shit. I can’t call my brother, he’s working, Mom would kill me, and Dad’s been dead for 2 years. The only other person I can think of is my childhood best friend (now sorta enemy), Morgan. Double-Shit, fuck.  

I call her. Pick up, pick up, pick up!! 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Morgan, it's me, Blair... um, can you pick me up?”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because Lewis just fucking broke up with me… also because I asked nicely?”

“...fine, where are you? And that was not nice”

***

And now, here I am, in Morgan’s car. She hasn’t said a word since she picked me up twenty minutes ago. That is until now. 

“What happened?”

“He’s been fucking Lilliana for more than five fucking months”

“Holy shit, the asshole was sleeping with your friend??”

“I know right!! I don’t blame Lilliana though, she knew I never liked him.”

“Want me to beat him up for you,” she says, smirking at me.

“Nah,” I laughed, “he’d be fucking dead!” 

She laughs, and Shit, I forgot how much I loved the sound of her laugh. I forgot how much I missed this, I wish I had never stopped talking to her. what was I afraid of? We were so close but now… 

“Wanna hang out at my place? We can eat ice cream, watch some movies, and if you want you can sleep over,” she said, breaking the silence I wasn’t even aware of.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” I said, shocked but happy all the same. I smile at her, as she puts her gorgeous long dyed dark red hair into a ponytail. Was she always this beautiful? I thought to myself, but then I push the thought aside, remembering that I had just been broken up with less than an hour ago. That's the only reason she’s doing this, I tell myself, she pities me. Although this doesn't feel like pity, it feels more like… an indescribable joy, definitely more than how I have felt with any other friend. 

***

We arrive at her house, and surprisingly she runs around to open the car door for me.

“What a gentlewoman” I laugh. She just smiles her stupid, goofy smile at me, while holding the door for me to get out. Dear Fucking God, she’s beautiful… Shit, it’s happening again. I like her, don’t I? Fuck…

We walk inside and exchange pleasantries with her parents and little sister, who are on their way out the door, to go to dinner. I check the time, my wristwatch reads 6:45 pm, when they say they will be back around 10:00. Over three hours with just me and Morgan, alone in her house?? Fuck. 

After they leave, she grabs my hand, leading me to her room. I try not to freak out about holding her hand, but my attempts are pointless. She doesn't let go until we are both sitting on her bed, eyes locked. 

She nervously clears her throat and turns to grab the TV remote. Did I make her nervous? No, I couldn’t have, she’s straight… or at least I thought she was. I could have been wrong. I need to stop indulging in these thoughts. 

She turns on this new rom-com movie, but I don’t pay attention to it, I’m too busy staring at her, her eyes, her hair, her lips, her… Eventually, she is gonna notice… I should stop, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off her…

“What?” she says smiling over at me. 

“Nothing… you’re just…”

“Just, what?”

“Beautiful” I whisper, while realizing I’ve definitely been staring at her lips for too long. Her breath catches when she notices, and bites her lip. So many thoughts are running through my head: When she bites her lips and looks at me like that, I wanna be more than a friend. 

Does she feel the same? does she want me back? I wanna be more than her friend...

“You think so?”

“Well… yeah, I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever m-”

She cuts me off with a kiss, a small one, but still, I am so shocked, I just stare at her for a minute, trying to register what just happened. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Now it’s me who cuts her off with a kiss. She tangles her hand in my hair, laughing, as I pull her closer to me by her waist. When we finally break apart, she smiles. 

“Wanna be my Girlfriend?” 

“I have never wanted anything more in my life than the amount of how much I want that. ” I reply, smiling harder than I have in a long time. She kisses me, and God, I feel whole again. 

Word Count: 916

[monomorphilogical]

Sick again

I’m down on the floor again, I got my hands folded, praying to God, hoping I don’t throw up my mother’s dinner, so tell me a story about someone else.

Caught sick on a quiet Monday night, with my chest heaving and my hands shaking, so come over here and please distract me, and tell me a story about anyone else.

Been sick like this since I was just a kid, and I was just too young to understand, but I acted like I was already twenty five; just a little girl who's dreaming of someone else.

So tell me a story about whatever you want, and tell me the little girl is just a little girl, down on the floor only because of her toys, and that she's young enough to understand.

Promise me you won't end this story yet, and you'll distract me from the wound that's festering, 'cause this is a sickness no doctor can cure, and we both know it's rotten work to try.

Thought it'd be over and that scares me, 'cause my story could've ended happily, but ever after struck me across the cheek, and it knocked me down harder than before.

This house that isn't the same as it was, still stands the bed I have nightmares in, and it still holds the spaces I try to avoid; kitchen lights too bright to hide away from.

At night I'll sneak down in my nightclothes, the whole house asleep and bathed in blue, and I'll leave the lights off just to breathe, lost in the living room like a haunting ghost.

So tell me a story about something else, because ghosts have always haunted me; with their shadows of what could've been, always right there but never close enough.

I hate to admit it and I hate that it's true; didn't think I'd miss what has never been, I'm supposed to be old enough to move on, but I just can't seem to let this one go.

Poor little girl that haunts me every day; I think she died the second time he left, still rotting in the grave I've dug for her, deep in my chest where she won't be found.

Laid her down inside the wound they'd carved, she holds open the skin that won't close, and her ghost haunts me every day; begging for me to fill her with love again.

She'll always be with me wherever I go, and she'll hold on to me as I hold on to her, because she's all mine this time around, and I swore to never let her get hurt again.

But when he's around she gets so hungry, and I've tried to feed her my own flesh but, I'm just as badly starved and hungry as her, and he'll let us down again like he's done before.

She'll hate me for it and I'll agree with her; little girl who just needs her daddy so bad, and I'm crying on the floor like a fucking child, 'cause we're one and there's no separating us now.

Biting down on my tongue until I taste blood, I'll pray to God I don't throw up tonight's dinner, sick to my stomach even after ten long years, trying to keep quiet but I feel like I could die.

Please tell me a story before anyone finds me, 'cause downstairs I hear laughing on the tv, and there's sounds coming from the kitchen too, and I closed the door but it’s never had a lock.

Trying not to die on this quiet Monday night, alone on the floor with her ghost close to me, I'm so sick of this storyline I can't escape, and I hate to admit I still miss what I never had.

So tell me a story about someone else, and distract me enough to dry my tears, and I'll try so hard not to throw up dinner, just never let the story end so I can fall asleep.

[scienter]

Note: I had to copy and paste this ask from Word because when I returned to my inbox to answer it was no longer there. Idk what happened. 🤔

Hi. I'm not sure how to tumblr. I'm basically here because a friend linked me to one of your tvd metas after I started watching the show a few weeks back. I was halfway through the penultimate season when I decided to drop it altogether. Something tells me the writers either hated Stefan & Caroline or at least they didn't want them to be happy. And while I understand stefan's character trait of being consumed by revenge, he's been acting so irrationally this season that after a point even his otherwise weak-willed, bad strategist, impulsive brother was like 'I quit! You deal with your BS!' Fortunately/unfortunately I'm aware of the series finale & I think the writers never wanted Stefan's hero hair to have any character development so that they could justify his death as some sort of sacrifice but in the end it was to service his selfish brother's manpain. I wonder how people watched tvd for 8 years and I'm not saying it didn't have great moments but I also noticed how they rinsed-repeated storylines every season. For e.g Stefan seems to be dumbed down version of who he originally is and kind of reminds me of Tyler whose life pretty much changed for the worse because of Klaus or when he was so stupid that he was practically going to use his own body to put Klaus down in s4 & didn't even bother telling Caroline about it until she found out about it or something. Thankfully, this time Caroline didn't sleep with her boyfriends's mom's murderer though. What an absolute nightmare that would have been. Sorry for the rant but that wasn't the sole point of this message. I noticed you are a X-Files fan! Yay! If you don't mind me asking what's your favourite Mulder-Scully scene? And just out of curiosity,have you watched Normal People? If yes, then what's your opinion? If no, then please do watch. I think you'd love/enjoy the series.It's insane how much the characters, their individual characters arcs & overall journey is similar to that of Stefan and Caroline but with quality writing. Lastly,what does "scienter" mean? Thanks, Chandreyee. P.S: My friend is a Delena shipper & thinks Delena is the best thing to have happened on TVD * rolls eyes * but seemed to have enjoyed your blog back in the day. Hence ,the recommendation.

Hi there, Chandreyee. Welcome to tumblr!

Stefan & The TVD Finale

Oh, I’ve had my share of rants about the TVD finale and how Kevin Williamson spitefully killed Stefan because he wasn’t going to get the Stelena ending he wanted. That’s not a crackpot theory – he said as much in an interview. So yeah. We got the nonsensical finale that reverted Stefan & Damon to their season 1 characterization. That frustrated me given that I spent 8 years watching that show.

And like you one of the things I disliked about TVD was the repetitious storytelling. The formulaic storytelling drove me nuts, especially in the later seasons.  I take it as a sign that a story has gone on too long. If a writer can’t imagine new conflicts or plots then it’s time to call it quits.

Favorite Mulder & Scully Scene

Oh, wow. This is hard. Because there are ten or fifteen (or twenty) Mulder and Scully scenes that I could call my favorite.

I love their last scene in Triangle when Mulder tells Scully he loves her.  

I love their scene in Detour when Scully sings Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog.

I love their scene in Folie a Deux when Mulder tells Scully that she’s his “one in five billion.”

I love every single scene of theirs in Bad Blood.

And I love, love, love Mulder teaching Scully to play baseball a.k.a. Hips Before Hands in the Unnatural.

And of course, I’d be remiss to leave out Mulder & Scully dancing to Walking in Memphis in The Post Modern Prometheus.

I could go on. I love Mulder & Scully. They are my favorite tv couple. They are my original ship. I don’t know how to distill my love of them to a single scene.

I’ve thought about writing a Top Ten Favorite Mulder & Scully Moments meta over the years, but I’ve have never gotten around to it. Maybe I’ll do it this year. Hmm . . .

Normal People

No, I’ve never seen Normal People. I’ve heard good things about it though.

Scienter

Scienter is a legal term for intent or knowledge of wrongdoing (i.e., the defendant knew that his or her act or statement was illegal, deceptive, or wrong.) It’s random, I knew. I chose it because (1) it was short, (2) I could spell it, and (3) the word’s obscurity meant that it was available.

[copperbadge]

Hi! I hope this isn't too out of left field, but you're one of the fandom creators I've followed the longest (since SGA's heyday,) and one whose work I really enjoy/respect. It seems like fandom as community is kind of... dying? In favour of cash/influence motivated content creation? Do you have any tips on how to contribute to/preserve the community aspects (aside from the brigades/crusades against "insert problematic content here" that seems to band ppl together) of fandom? So much of it seems to just be throwing comments into the ether, and I'm not sure how to contribute.

I've been thinking about this ask for a while, but I don't think I'm any further along towards giving a good answer now than I was a week ago when you sent it.

There are so many aspects to answering this -- not just answering it but answering it as me. I will always be of fandom; I've spent roughly thirty of my forty-three years in fandom. But I haven't had a single specific fandom for a couple of years now. The last time I posted any fanfic of meaningful length was 2020; I've done shortfics since, but mainly for fundraisers and to prompts, and in the meantime worked on my own stuff. Generally, between about fourteen and thirty, I would find a specific canon, write for it for about two years, and then move on to a new canon. Marvel was an exception in that I think I was in it for about eight years, roughly 2012-2020; Good Omens was too in that I left the fandom and came back to it, something I've never done, but even then I wrote a couple of fics in 2020 and not really anything since.

Additionally, I'm, you know, here on Tumblr, I'm not really anywhere else. Fandom is so massive and our experience of it so subjective that it's difficult to say "where" fandom is; it was on livejournal and moved to tumblr but I think realistically since that move it has fractured significantly, to the point where it is spread across tumblr, twitter, tiktok, discord, and dreamwidth. I am on one of those. :D And nobody really knows what percentage of fandom is where. It goes back to the problem of how to define fandom and how to track a generally self-reporting, semi-closed community.

There is, I think, a growing movement to monetize hobbies in general, and separate from that to Create Content rather than just Post Shit. And social media platforms, for the most part, are designed to push specific content, so those capable of "gaming" the algorithm tend to rise to the top and be most visible, and that's a very homogenized set of data, generally speaking. It is the new Mainstream Culture.

But there are two problems with this new mainstream culture: first, it's insanely fragmented compared to ten or twenty years ago. It is possible to put your content out in front of literal millions of people on YouTube and still not be a cultural phenomenon in the way that a TV show with the same viewership would have been on network television in the 1990s, because you're just one of a million options. I knew who all six Friends were even when I didn't watch Friends, but I don't know who the top influencers on YouTube are, because there's like thirty thousand of them and they're all super niche and none of them appeal to my interests, and unlike in the 1990s when I had five TV channels, I have all of the internet I can look at instead.

I say this is a problem, but in many respects it's not -- at least it means alternate viewpoints that don't need to care about network executives or ad revenue are getting out there....somewhere. It's merely a problem in that we can no longer really establish a firm idea of where we are, culturally.

The second problem is more germane to us: fandom has always been a counterculture. Fandom is tightly engaged with disrupting the narrative of dominant culture, with telling the stories that dominant culture won't using the products of that culture to do so. Most countercultures eventually either die out or become mainstream, but fandom has proved slippery in that sense because it is always in reaction to established culture. When part of fandom becomes mainstream, the rest shrugs and moves on. The first time we've really seen that shift is in the monetization of things like gaming and nerd culture, which is a pretty recent phenomenon.

But I don't know what the extent is. I would imagine these days it's harder to find the real weird gritty countercultural stuff, because the "friendly" neutered nerd content gets pushed to the top, but I feel like once you've got an in, you can find the rest of it. So I don't know if it's that fandom is dying, it's just being split into two halves: the very visible dominant-culture-friendly stuff and the less marketable and thus harder-to-find countercultural stuff. And in any case I'm not super qualified to talk about that split because I don't honestly see it that often. I know it's there, but I'm at a remove from it because of my particular status in fandom as a long-term, well-known fan with a relatively large following. (Relative to the norm. Relative to like, anyone on tiktok, I'm nobody.) So my vision of fandom is eternally skewed by the fact that I'm the Spiders Georg of fandom.

So I don't really have any answers because I don't even properly have my arms around the problem. I'm not sure anyone does, or knows the size or severity of it, whether it's a non-issue or a major one. I'm not sure anyone can. Fandom is huge and weird and invisible and hard to predict. And that's okay; part of what makes us fandom is our ability to adapt and integrate and make things our own, so we just...keep doing that in the best way we're able, I think, and trust the rest will figure itself out and present itself to us as either a fun new opportunity or a problem to be solved.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

TMMM—Joel gets back together with Penny Pann. Chaos ensues.

(Let's put this in Joshy continuity. Also, I really don't think this is in character for Joel? But it's fun to mess around with really wild stuff like this so here we go!)

There's a banging on the front door of their brownstone, and Midge frowns deeply.

Lenny is working tonight. He's got a TV spot on the Late Show, and it's just been her and Kitty, staying up late, watching him on TV while Joshy sleeps soundly upstairs. He's not even one yet, and strangely, very sweet and quiet, which Midge did not expect at all.

The knock comes just after Lenny wraps his set on TV, thankfully, so she won't miss it.

Midge gets to her feet and peeks out the window next to the door before opening it quickly. "What-?"

Her two children, and their little half-brother are standing there, looking tired, and unhappy. "What are you doing here?" she asks worriedly as she ushers them in.

"Things got dumb at Pop's house," Ethan informs her. At fourteen, he's the oldest of all five kids in the Bruce/Maisel clan, and he generally takes charge when things go south.

Things, clearly, have gone south.

Esther is ten now, and a spitfire. "Sassy," Moishe calls her, though Midge's own mother calls the little girl "Miriam 2.0."

She looks angry.

"What's going on?" Kitty asks, looking confused. She's only a year younger than Ethan, though she acts about twenty-five most days.

"Daddy doesn't love Mommy anymore," Lan tells them. He's seven now, and looking pretty tearful all things considered.

Midge stares at the little boy in shock before turning to Ethan, who deflates and puts a hand over his mouth. A learned gesture he's seen Lenny do a million times.

"Daddy brought Penny Pann home when Mei took us out to dinner," Esther explains, finally. "He said he had to work at the club tonight, but he was really having sex with Penny Pann!"

Midge stares, feeling even more shocked.

"We came home and she was still there," Ethan explains. "In Pop and Mei's bed."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Midge snaps.

"Midge, you're not supposed to say fuck," Kitty reminds her. "Remember?"

"Right," she says, nodding, still shocked. "Of course. I will fill the swear jar later. How did you three get here?"

"Mei dropped us off," Ethan explains.

"And where is Mei going?"

"Either to put a hit out on Pop or to stop her family from doing so," Ethan responds.

Midge takes a deep breath, and lets it out, before nodding. "Okay. Okay. It's late. Ethan, is it okay if Lan sleeps in your room with you tonight? He doesn't usually stay here, and I bet he could use his big brother."

Ethan nods, and takes Lan by the hand. "C'mon, Buddy. We can read some comic books before bed."

Kitty watches them, before turning to the girls. "You girls wanna bunk together?" she asks hopefully. "Kitty's got those nice bunkbeds in her room."

"That sounds fun," Kitty says, wrapping an arm around the younger girl. "Come on, Es, we can paint our fingernails."

Midge watches them go, thankful that it's Friday night, and none of them have to go to school tomorrow. She wanders into the kitchen and pulls a hefty bottle of bourbon down from a high shelf, before grabbing two glasses. Lenny should be home soon. He'll want one, too.

She's not wrong, either. No sooner has she finished her first glass and poured herself another, does Lenny wander in after closing the front door.

He's all smiles, too, and she hates to drop all this drama on him. He kisses her softly, smiling and brushing his nose against hers.

"What'd you think?"

"You were on fire tonight," she tells him, kissing him again before pulling away to pour him a glass.

He takes his, looking suspicious. "Something tells me that this...is not a celebratory drink."

"I really wish it was," she says apologetically. "But take comfort in knowing that you have done absolutely nothing wrong. In no way are you in trouble."

"Good to know," he says slowly, suspiciously.

"So...Ethan, Esther and Lan are here," Midge explains. "Mei dropped them off."

Lenny looks concerned that. "Did something happen? Is someone hurt?"

"No, but they're about to be," Midge tells him. "Because Mei took the kids to dinner, and Joel told them he couldn't join them because he had business at the club."

"Which...was a lie?" Lenny tries.

"It was, in fact, a great big fuckin' lie," Midge confirms.

"And they came back to the house, and..."

"He was fucking Penny Pann."

Lenny freezes, his glass halfway to his mouth, looking deeply perplexed. "Penny...the...the secretary from...with the dull pencils?"

"That's the one."

"Jesus fuck. You're first husband is dumb."

"Yes, he is."

"Hasn't that woman moved on? It's been ten fuckin' years."

"Yes, it has."

He shoots the bourbon in his drink instead of sipping it and shakes his head out. "Kids okay?"

"Oh, there's no way in hell they're okay," Midge says. "But they're settled upstairs for the night. And Joshy slept through all of it."

"Small blessings, I guess." Lenny sighs heavily and pours himself another, before offering more to her, which she readily accepts. "So...what do we do?"

Midge shrugs. "We look after the kids I guess." She sighs softly. "I should call him."

"Why, so he can cry and whine about how much he's fucked up again and then ask you to run away with him or something?" Lenny snaps. "Can we skip that and just drink our drinks and go to bed."

"But I could help."

Lenny sets his glass down and turns to her, cupping her face in both of his hands, stroking her cheeks. "You are very, very sweet. And so lovely. And Joel has dug himself yet another grave, and the only person who can dig him out? Is him. Remember when I was digging my own graves? I had to fix it. You couldn't. It was all me. It's the same principle. Just adultery instead of drugs."

Midge closes her eyes and nuzzles in against his hand. "Drinks. Bed," she agrees.

He kisses her softly and then goes back to his drink, and they both sip silently for a moment.

"God she must have the tightest pussy on earth for him to go back to that after ten years," Midge mutters.

Lenny snorts bourbon out of his nose.

[coollemonsaresour]

The Love That Don't Stop

Pairing: Steve Rogers x daughter reader, Steve Roger x Natasha Romanoff. Warnings: Child abandonment, angst, fluff

Summary: It is Y/n's birthday, and she gets an unexpected present.

Word count: 2632

Request: @maximeevansblog ; The reader (me ) is the daughter of Steve rogenrs and its the readers birtday, and he takes her to the nail en hair salon , and they come back, and in the tower, they have a suprise party for her, and natasha comes with adoption papers and, he wants to her mom and a lotts of fluff thanks, and if its ready you tag me right ( natasha and Steve are dating) thanks. And if its ready you tag me right thanks

Request: Anonymous; can you do a Natasha x black!child!reader? I really liked your other fic. You don't have to if you don't want to.

A/n: I made lots of changes, cause when I went to go post it two weeks ago, my fics were two similar to the other two. The highlighted words are in realtion to the person that requested. Because I wanted to incorporate them into the fic 🙃

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, BeEeee- you were starting to get agitated, and brought your fist down on your alarm clock, smashing it to pieces. But hey, it’s not your fault, you got your father’s enhancements through genetics, just the perks of being a Rogers.

Still in bed, you let out a yawn, and you began to stretch; mid-stretch that is when it had clicked.

It’s My Birthday.

And that’s when you smelled it. The sweet smell of a birthday tradition you and your dad have had for the past nine years of your life.

One day you showed your dad Steven Universe, and it happened to be the together breakfast episode. So ever since then, every morning of your birthday, you and your dad sit down together and have Together Breakfast.

As soon as you got out of the shower, you threw on some clothes and dash to the Kitchen. As soon as you enter you were met by a horrible sight. Your dad and a redhead kissing.

Nat and your dad have been friends since he had come out of the ice, a became even closer when you were born. Nat was like a mom to you, but you never would say that out loud, cause you didn’t want to make it wired or have her feel uncomfortable.

Your mom was never in the picture, she left you and your dad five days after you were born. Steve had no idea of how to raise a kid, he was completely lost, but then Nat had offered to help him out. The pair worked as such a great team people often thought that they were actually a couple. After years of a long, long sturdy friendship, your dad finally asked the assassin out. So basically they have been dating for about two and a half years now.

“Ew, gross,” you said, dramatically shielding your face from the sight. “ Good Morning Y/n, happy birthday,” they both said. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” you said as you sat down at the island stools. “You mean this public display of affection?” he said with a smirk and then pulled Nat in for another kiss. You then shield your face away and then began gagging and reaching.

“So it is….10:30,” you said looking around “Where’s Together Breakfast?” you said whining. “It’s right here you big baby,” Nat said teasing.

“ Cheers to fifteen years of chaotic life,” you said holding up a fork “Cheers!” they said, you each then taking a bite.

“So, Y/n, anything special on thing on the agenda today,” Nat said wriggling her eyebrows. “Not really, I was hoping that we could just go to the spa, then the salon, and just have a chill day.” You said taking another bite. “Oooh, sorry, y/n I can’t, join you today, I have busine- “ you cut Nat off with a loud groan. “ But its’ my birthdayyyyy,” you said with an adorable pout. “I know, and I’m sorry,” she said squashing your cheeks together “and I will make it up to you, but for right now-” she paused reaching over the counter to grab her bag “ I have to go,” she said giving you small hug and then turning to give steve a quick peck on the lips, and heading for the door. “ Bye,” Steve said, “bye Nat,” You say still mopping. “Bye babes,” she says giving the two an air kiss before disappearing out the door.

“So, I guess it is just me and you, Y/n,” Steve said as he started cleaning up breakfast. “Ya, I guess so, though I really wanted Nat to come today. Alright, imma got get ready so that we could go,” you said heading back to your room, leaving Steve smiling at your comment about Nat; not that you even realized.

---

“Alright, where here,” Steve said as the uber pulled up to the salon. You both walked in and were greeted by an overlay excited worker. “Hi, my name is Jess, I will be helping you out today” you then gave her a small, that she returned, then started eyeing Steve like he was her last meal. She looked like she was in her early-twenties, pale skin, about 5’3, blonde hair, and brown eyes. Probably working this job to pay off student loans. She turned to Steve, with scrunched eyebrows.

“Are you Captain America?” she asked with a smirk of curiosity, but it looked like she was trying to amuse him before he could answer “yes, he is, and he’s taken, Maybe next time sweetheart, ” you said pulling you dad away from Jess, and toward the receptionist desk.

“ Hi, Appointment for Y/n Rogers,” You say, leaning against the desk. “Right this way.”

---

You were currently sitting in a chair in front of a medium-size mirror, your hands resetting on the armrest, careful not themes up the freshly done nails. Then two Beautistions approached us, then one of them turned to Steve and asked, “are you getting your, hair done too,”

“No”

“Yes”

you and Steve say at the same time.

“Please dad, you can you a new due,” you say, Steve just rapidly shakes his head rapidly no.

“What wrong with the style I have now?” he asked. “You look like an upgraded BackStreet boy,” you reply in full honesty. He then puts his hand over his chest and pretends to be hurt. “You should die it!” one of the Beautistion said, “Great Idea…” you hesitated, search for her name tag.

“Max” she finished for you, seeing what you were trying to do. “If you don’t want to, die your whole head, you can start with highlights,” she said with a smile of excitement. Steve was about to say no until he saw your adorable pleading face. “Fine,” he said putting his hands up in defeat and moving into the salon chair next to yours.

---

After you left the Spa you and your dad headed to central park for a walk, something you two did a lot when you were younger.

You then pulled out your phone and tried to Facetime “Natty Bare 😘” but there was no answer. Which was strange, because Nat always answers your calls, no matter who, what, when, where, and why. Steve saw what you did and smiled, a smug smile. "What are you doing?" Your dad asked

"I wanted to show Nat your blue hair streaks" you said with a pout.

Halfway through the walk your legs were getting tired so you jumped on your dad’s back, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his hip.

“You’re like a pretzel,” he says linking his arms under your knees for better support. “And, you’re like a Dorito,” you tiredly mumble into the crook of his neck, Steve chuckled at the comment.

After walking a little longer you fall asleep. Steve then tightened his grip a little, as if he was giving a backward hug. He just could believe how fast his baby girl was growing up.

---

When they reached the tower’s elevator, Steve placed Y/n down on her feet to wake you.

“Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up for a minute.” “But why,” you mumbled as you leaned against him for support since you were still tired. “Cause if you don’t then this could be a very embarrassing photo.” “what pho-” before you could finish, the elevator doors opened, and then...

“SURPRISE!”

A tired smile then played its role on your face. You looked around and saw everyone there, except Nat.

Mabey she will show up later you thought to yourself.

---

An hour later she still has yet shone up. You asked around and Tony told you that she had a last-minute mission, but that she should be back at any time now. That failed to relieve your nerves.

But those nerves became worse when it was time to cut the cake. You know she was busy but would she really miss your birthday.

Apparently, yes, yes she would. Because the party was over, over an hour ago, and now it was currently 9:30.

Your dad knew that you were really bummed out that Nat missed your party, so he suggested a movie night. Movie nights were special to you and your dad because it became something you two did together, to destress. Just the two of you, Daddy and Daughter.

“Got room for one more.” came a voice that you recognized immediately. “Sorry, this is a two-person couch,” you shot back, anger leaking from your voice, your eyes never leaving the tv screen, ignoring the Russian, as she came into your view.

Steve then paused the movie, causing you to turn your head toward him, annoyed.

“How was the mission,” he asked her.

“I don’t know” She replied accompanied by a tight-lipped smile and shrug. You were about to say something but “Because it is not over yet,” she said looking nervous.

She then pulled out a manila folder and approached you and sat down in between Steve. The Folder was labeled “Confidential” with a red ribbon and bow tied around. The folder She then handed you the folder causing you to look up at them in question.

“Open it,” Steve said pulled Nat toward him sat her in between his legs, and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to help calm the nerves surging through her.

You carefully untied the ribbon, and open the folder. “On this day Y/n M/n Ro-” You mumbled quietly and then stopped, your face going blank. Your vision then started to get blurry with tears threatening to spill.

“Wow, y-you’re really, um getting good at that face,” Nat said, a million thoughts going through her mind.

“Y/n,” Nat said, voice flooded with worry. When you didn’t look at her, she used her fingers to lift your chin, so that you were looking at her. And when you locked with her that’s when the dames broke, as the tears sprang free from your eyes.

“Oh, no, baby, baby please, don’t cry,” she said trying to wipe away the tears rapidly falling down your face. “ I understand if you don’t want to go through with it,” she said wiping the tear that fell from her face.

“We don-”

She was cut off with the air being knocked out of her, as you crashed into her wrapping your arms around her torso, burying your face in her stomach, sobbing. She then wrapped her arms around you and held you close, one hand rubbing up and down your back trying to calm you, the other gently twirling some of your coils with her fingers.

Nat always felt like you were her child, even some people in public would mistake her for your mom, But she didn’t know how you felt.

Nat was so nervous that her soul was shaking. She knew how the topic of a Mother, is one that stings for you.

---

*Flashback*

Nat POV

I pulled up to Y/n’s school, today was her first day of Kindergarten, and in the morning she was so excited. That morning I bruised her hair into two puffs, curled her sideburns, and she then wore a Captain America shirt, with joggers and light-up sneakers. I swear she was the cutest four-year-old in the world.

I then saw Y/n exit the school, but my smile flattened when I saw the sad expression on her face. I then hopped out of the car and head toward her, as I get closer it looks as if she was crying. When I get to her I pick her up and place her on my hip, and instead of her giving me a hug like she usually does she just tucks her head into my neck.

“Hey, baby,” I saw trying to cheer her up “You okay,” I ask she just nodded and let out a little sigh. Then I hear laughing voices and I turn my head to see a group of second graders.

“See I told you to see was adopted, her parents probably didn’t love her,” one of them said.

“ There is no way Captain America is her dad If that lady is her mom, they’re both white, and she’s not”

“She just a baby and a lier,”

“ She probably doesn’t even have a mom,” another said laughing, causing Y/n to sniffle.

I then cleared my throat, successfully grabbing the attention of the bullies, sending them a death glare, and then headed to the car, and then buckled Y/n into her car seat. I then sat in the driver’s seat and adjusted the rearview mirror so that we could look at each other.

“Don’t listen to those, mouth breathers Y/n you hear me.” Y/n still didn’t look at me her eyes trained on her fingers fiddling in her lap.

“Um, Nat, umm, where is my mom, and w-why, um, why does she, not love m-me?” Y/n said with a sniffle. Her question made me want to go up to those kids and beat the shit out of them.

“ well y/n your mom had to do something important and should be back soon,” I had to lie to her because I didn’t know how to explain to a four-year-old, that her mother abandoned her and her dad because she thinks giving life to the sweetest little girl was a mistake.

Like what did Маленький шар совершенства, ever do to her.

“But Y/n, let me tell you this, Your dad loves you, so much and would let anything bad happen to you, you know that right detka,” she then nodded her head, sniffled, and wiped her tears.

“And I love you too, milashka, and I will never stop loving you.” I love you, Nat” “Now how about we get some Ice cream annnnnd, not tell Steve, because he is going to be mad because you haven’t eaten any dinner yet,” I said starting the car and putting a smile on Y/n’s face.

How could a mother ever leave a child like this, so sweet, innocent, and pure?

*Flashback over*

---

No one’s POV

“So is that a yes, baby?” Nat asked nervously that you might say no because you were crying.

You just nodded your head yes, as Nat hugged you tighter.

“Oh, dad I forgot to tell you, while we were out...I, um, need a new alarm clock,” you said with a nervous chuckle.

“Again,” they both said, not surprised at all.

“Mabey you should use your phone, you’re always pretty careful with that,” Nat said bopping your nose and squishing your cheeks together. You then reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. You went to the contacts and changed “Natty 😘” to “Mama🔥”.

“What’s my contact name Y/n?” Your dad asked.

“❤️Captain🤍Crunch💙,” you said sliding your phone back into your pocket and laying back down on Nat’s stomach.

“ I love you, mama,” you said nuzzling further into her

“I love to baby, always has and don’t plan on stopping”

*Bonus*

(Nat and Steve in the kitchen after putting Y/n to bed, because she fell asleep during the rest of the movie because you were tired after crying)

“So...what’s up with the hair, “ Nat said sipping on her tea, taking a step closer to Steve. He then shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head, with a goofy smile. “Uhh, Y/n thought I needed a new look,” He responds shaking the colorful hair from side to side. “Well, I like it,” she says as she runs her hands through his hair, “ Oh, do you,” Steve said placing his hands on her hips. “Yea…I do,” she says standing on her tippy-toe, kissing his lips. Steve then leaned more into the kiss. They went from kiss to make out sess, really quick.

“How about we don’t do this in the kitchen,”

“Mmhm”

---

@the-bau-quinjet