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campfam4lyfe · 6 months ago

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I get that Brooklynn is your favorite, she used to be mine too, but what are your thoughts on her in chaos theory? Don't you feel they destroyed her character? She's not herself anymore, and the fact that she can just. Fake her death and traumatize her friends/neglect her boyfriend like. I don't know, thats not it. I don't like her much anymore.

time to do my job as a brooklynn defender lol, alright here goes:

Don't you feel they destroyed her character? She's not herself anymore, and the fact that she can just. Fake her death and traumatize her friends/neglect her boyfriend like. I don't know, thats not it.

So. Thinking about Brooklynn. About her death. You mention how she faked it. except, I don’t think saying she faked it is really an accurate or fair description.

Brooklynn didn’t fake anything—here is what we know, and here is what I mean. The facts that we are presented with through season 1. limited as they are, are that Brooklynn was at a Dino Drop, the allosaurus escaped, and that it "killed her." Except it didn't really kill her. It is framed as an accident--a random Dino attack. But Ben shows up and suddenly it's clear that maybe it wasn't an accident.

So let's run through the facts one more time. Brooklynn's 'death' at the hands of the allosaurus wasn't an accident. It was premeditated. The attack was an honest to goodness attempt on Brooklynn's life. One the camp fam--and the people who targeted Brooklynn in the first place--believed worked. You're going to want to keep this in mind, because now I am going to address the other part of your ask.

Brooklynn's character has not, to me, been destroyed.

We see little of Brooklynn and what she was doing throughout Chaos Theory, because we are learning about her again through the eyes and memories of the people who loved and mourned her--we are gathering bits and pieces, parts of the narrative that we, as the viewers, can piece together more efficiently than the actual players, because the knowledge the Camp Fam has is disjointed in that they are not all privy to the same information or how it connects--and it's not their fault at all! They are not working under the same information we have--that Brooklynn is alive--and so, don't know why certain things are more important. Even we don't have the full picture, although what we have is a little clearer.

But from what we see of Brooklynn throughout Chaos Theory, there is something there that you believe is not true to her previously established character. I disagree. I think what you are talking about, when you say that she is not herself anymore, is that Brooklynn is too invested in her conspiracies, so much so that she has thrown everything else away--her "life", her regard for her friends/family and her relationships with them.

But I think, that when it comes to Brooklynn, being obsessed with a conspiracy or mystery is in fact a major core part of her character. We saw it all throughout Camp Cretaceous. She sneaks away when they visit Wu's lab that first time to snoop--and yes, maybe it was for her followers, trying to find something juicy before everything went to shit, but what she saw clearly stood out to her. She was hooked, she reviewed that footage, and it stayed with her so much so that when she saw the label E750 again at a later date while on the security cameras, she lingered over the shot before having to move on to help the others. And even then, it was clear that it stayed with her--whatever Wu did, whatever E750 was, it was a mystery and Brooklynn wanted to solve it.

And we see the others are aware of this! Sammy recruits Brooklynn to help out in her quest to find information, and the mystery consumes Brooklynn so much that initially, she was steamrolling right over Sammy's input. We also see Brooklynn's thirst for mystery solving when she becomes so focused on the frozen flowers, something she mentioned so much so that the other campers could quote her on it. We see it with her suspicions regarding Mitch and Tiff, and even Mae. We see it again in the final episode, when we catch a glimpse of the campers as teenagers. Brooklynn mentions the Lockwood Estate, which, for those who don't know or remember, is where the later events of JW:Fallen Kingdom (timeline wise, this is three years after the first Jurassic World, so three years after the kids first got left behind in the Park.) The events at the Lockwood Estate and what was supposed to be happening there wasn't public knowledge. That was Brooklynn following a lead, as at that point in time when she brings it up, the dinosaurs hadn't been set loose yet.

The reason I mention all this is because I really don't think Brooklynn's obsessiveness or drive is new. She loves investigative work, and she's good at putting together pieces too. She's also been shown to have a love for mysteries, loving Esther Stone and having her videos following the pattern of being named "Brooklynn unboxes x." She likes knowing the whys, whens, wheres, and whats. She literally says that she is trying to make the transition from influencer/vlogger to investigative journalist. Which is why I am not at all surprised with her being so focused on this Dino smuggling rings, and why I believe it was in character.

Tying It All Together

Now I know what you may be thinking. "But she neglected Kenji! That's not good girlfriend behavior. She faked her death! That's horrible." Valid, but also, not fundamentally true.

I said earlier, that by "not herself" you might mean that "Brooklynn is too invested in her conspiracies, so much so that she has thrown everything else away--her "life", her regard for her friends/family and her relationships with them." I don't think she has though, and if it has ended up that way, it was never her intention.

Take in all the Brooklynn scenes from Chaos Theory. Each member of the Camp Fam has an interaction with her that is shown through flashback or hinted at. So let's put together a timeline.

Brooklynn is dead at the start of the show, but for how long, I don't actually remember. I will put it at 6 months to a year, but if anyone else knows for sure, just let me know and I'll fix it. Anyways. She is dead for six months to a year. And in the months leading up to her death, she was investigating something, but they don't know what. We know that it had something to do with Dark Jurassic, Kenji's father, and Dino Smuggling. We know Ben introduced her to Dark Jurassic. We know Brooklynn stayed with Darius, left her jacket at Sammy's, and visited Yaz.

So here goes a tentative undertaking:

Ben introduces Brooklynn to Dark Jurassic and she visits him at his college. He hasn't dropped out/left yet. She is mentioning conspiracy theories, some as a joke, but its clear something there has caught her attention.

Brooklynn gets deeper into Dark Jurassic, and at some point reads about Dino Immersive therapy, which she recommends to Yaz. She visits her at some point, but when, is unclear.

Brooklynn visits Sammy. She is on Dark Jurassic so often that when Sammy has a flashback of her, Brooklynn is visibly on the site.

Brooklynn is with Kenji, but has been so absorbed in her mystery that she has started to neglect Kenji, but doesn't realize it. This goes on for a while. He breaks up with her and they are both devastated.

Brooklynn stays with Darius. Is still embroiled in her mystery. Asks Darius to meet up with her. "Dies."

Now, at some point before 4 and 5, Brooklynn visits Daniel Kon, gets a secret apartment, and is undercover within the Dino Smuggling ring.

We know that she did not tell her friends, or her boyfriend, any of this. Why? Especially Kenji! He was her boyfriend, one of her biggest supporter's, and his father was the guy Brooklynn went to so she could get her in to the smuggling world. Kenji has always heard her out, like when he was the one who stayed behind with her when she accidentally hurt Darius with the 'cool dad' comment. Kenji is the one who agreed to snoop with her regardless of his feelings because it was important to her. So why would she not go to her biggest supporter?

I believe that Chaos Theory tackled the kids growing up and their respective trauma very well. Not all of them are dealing very well. Yaz is the only one who seems to have gone to therapy, while Ben, Darius, and Kenji are all isolating. Sammy is dealing with repression and toxic positivity. It's very possible that Brooklynn was also dealing, and not very well at that. It's possible that her trauma manifested in another way. Maybe she needed to push herself into a project so she could ignore what happened--or maybe she needed to push herself into a project so if something happened, she could be prepared? We don't know! And it's because we don't know that I am going to, for the time being, ignore this, and focus on the possible reasons as to why she didn't tell them from what we do know.

Yaz has PTSD, and struggled a lot with the hopelessness of having to put the dinosaurs first and it costing them their way home in the later seasons of CC. So maybe Brooklynn didn't tell her because she didn't want to halter Yaz's progress. Still, she let on that she was investigating something and about Dark Jurassic.

Sammy is worried about Yaz, and so maybe Brooklynn didn't tell her because involving Sammy might mean involving Yaz, or maybe she didn't want to put stress on their relationship by having Sammy lie to her. Still, she let on that she was investigating something and about Dark Jurassic.

Ben had college. What, was she just going to disrupt that? Still, she let on that she was investigating something and talked with him about Dark Jurassic, which he introduced her to.

Kenji. Kenji was her boyfriend, her rock, THE Brooklynn enabler. who has always heard her out. The only time he didn't hear her out immediately was when his father was interfering. The same father she would need to go to for a door into the smuggling world. The same father who Kenji lived close to but never visited. In the last season of CC, Brooklynn, when investigating Daniel Kim, says that she won't break Kenji's heart without a good reason. Maybe, she did not feel like going to him about his father was a good reason--Kenji was in a good place, how could she hurt him like that? Maybe she thought she was protecting him. So she doesn't tell him. Still, she let on that she was investigating something.

Darius. Darius is my biggest "Brooklynn's Fake Death Can't Be Classified As Willfully Malicious On Her Part" card. Because he is the one that proves that Brooklynn did not in fact get sucked in so deep in her mystery that she tossed away all bonds and relationships. Did her death fuck him up? Definitely. But guys! She called him there that night, they had plans, she was "going to show him something!!!" Guys. She went to Darius. She was going to show Darius. Do you get that. In Chaos Theory, they say "Brooklynn was there to buy the Allosaurus that night." They are heartbroken. Yaz and Sammy say no way, and Darius says it is true, that she had a secret apartment, cash, and a note from Mr.Kim. But guys. She was going to show Darius.

Every time Brooklynn is called out on her behavior and shown how her obsessiveness hurts her friends—the way Sammy called her out when they were investigating E750, or her feeling regret over the “cool dad” comment when investigating Mitch and Tiff—she takes a step back and reassesses. She starts to investigate again but with changed behavior. That’s growth. Kenji breaking up with her may have really been the catalyst to her trying to show Darius what she was up to. As Darius says, Brooklynn was really torn up about the breakup and it is so visible on her face that she is devastated—she loved Kenji. She loved her friends.

So Brooklynn’s behavior, it was not Brooklynn cutting out her friends. Was she 100% honest with all of them? No. And unfortunately, the one person who she was going to show what was going on, didn't get to make it, and Brooklynn was killed.

Except she lived. So why not tell them? Why let them stew in grief? Why abandon them? Look, I think a lot of you are forgetting that the kids are very very good at improv. Are we forgetting Darius and Kash?An attempt on Brooklynn's life was made, and she somehow miraculously survived. She adapted, and made a plan on the go, lying low, somehow creating a trusted network, while being unable to reach out to her friends--it would blow her cover, and also possibly put them in danger. Who knows? Besides. Let's not forget, Ben was not the one who called Darius in that first episode. I don't know, but I do think it could have been Brooklynn, or someone on behalf of her, like Ronnie. (Or it could have been raptor lady to make sure Darius was home but who knows!)

Look, ultimately, you don't have to like her, and I'm not forcing anyone to! I do love her though, and her choices are ones I will defend. Besides, I know we are talking about camp fam trauma reactions to Brooklynn's death, but guys, flip side? We have a character who was going to tell her friend what she was up to, only to have an assassination attempt on her life causing her to lose a limb and go into hiding, not being able to contact her loved ones. I cannot even begin to think of the trauma Brooklynn has.

I hope this answers your ask anon, I feel I rambled too much lol!

#jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwcc #jwct #jwct spoilers #jwct speculation #brooklynn #brooklynn jwcc #kenlynn #kenji kon #darius bowman #ben pincus #yasmina fadoula #sammy gutierrez #camp fam #cam fam 4 life #answered ask #anon ask

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rinininamiluv · 19 days ago

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I can’t stop thinking about how Ian was frank’s least favorite child meanwhile he was Monica’s favorite child and honestly that’s one of the only qualities about her that I like. Now don’t get me wrong I will never condone parents having favorites among their children but having a favorite child is the least fucked up thing Monica could have and have done to those kids.

And I can’t stop thinking about one little detail in Episode 9 of season 1 that proves this. The scene where Monica and Roberta told them that they want to take Liam with them and get custody for him and Fiona started going on about how unfair and down right wrong that was after Monica abandoned them and after how much blood sweat and tears Fiona put into raising each one of them and now she suddenly wants to come back and take one of them away from them and they one they care for and love the most at that? And then she started calling out the kids names and stating how well they’re doing in school all thanks to her (Fiona) and not Monica.

But the detail I noticed is that as she called each one of their names and their success in school we saw no reaction from Monica until Fiona got to Ian and mentioned that he was promoted into ROTC and tested out of English. You can see that Ian being able to live his dream affected her and how proud she was to hear she literally gasped and her mouth was trembling from the new set of tears and emotions she was feeling. And everytime I see that scene and I notice this it hits me so hard.

Maybe it’s because I love Ian so much and he along with Mickey are my favorite characters makes everything about Ian a big deal for me. And I’ve never really seen anyone mention this little detail before and I feel like it should be and it’s an important piece of evidence of why I think Ian is Monica’s favorite. And it just justifies Ian’s soft spot for his mother and why he found it the hardest to let go of her and move on from her death the hardest (except for frank ofc or idk maybe more than frank) and why he cared for her so much. And ofc we can’t run from the fact that the two of them understand each other more than the others in the family did. They both are part of the lgbtq+ community and they both struggle with the same mental illness (although I still think it was wrong of Monica to make Ian believe he should break up with Mickey because Mickey wouldn’t understand him).

And I really have no one to talk about this to because none of my friends have watched this show so none of them would understand what I’m rambling about right now and this is the best place to ramble about this on.

Also one of my favorite scenes has to be when Monica got Ian out of jail after that mfer Sammy called the cops on him and they went to get something to eat and Ian noticed Monica staring at him and he asks her “what?” And she replies with the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on her “you’re a so beautiful. You’re and beautiful, beautiful man. I did great making you.” And I couldn’t agree with her more.

But that’s me rambling about what’s been on my mind for hours now :)

#shameless #ian gallagher #monica gallagher #gallavich #frank gallagher #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher is amazing #Monica favorites ian

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solradguy · 2 months ago

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Recently I've started to try and study a lot of the artwork for Guilty Gear, particularly the artwork by Daisuke. I was reading your translation of the notes in the XX artbook and I realized that on a lot of the artwork I really liked, Daisuke mentioned mistakes he made. I found this odd since, again, most of them I thought were absolute masterpieces.

I know that people always say "You're your own worst critic", especially to artists, but I guess that it never really set in until I was reading those.

I get nobody's art is perfect (Daisuke is no exception, there are pieces in the artbook that even I could see were rather flawed), but the fact that I am staring in aw at some artwork and I then read that the creator of it was upset that the perspective was all off feels insane. Kinda makes me think about how I critique my own art when I have so many people in my life who think I'm an amazing artist.

I know this is gonna sound stupid and corny but I wanted to get this out of my head since it's been in there for at least a week or two now. Probably didn't word this the best since it's getting a bit late since I decided to stay up to listen to the new (and by new I mean two years old) Red Hot Chili Peppers album while drawing and I thought of this again.

Also thanks for translating the art book. Although the artwork by itself is still great, the comments (as I have stated) were really insightful for me personally. You really are a rad guy, at least in my eyes.

When I first translated Artworks of GGX 2000-2007, I thought Daisuke's harshness towards his art was possibly a Japanese cultural thing, since it's not uncommon for creators in Japan to kind of talk down their own accomplishments ("kenkyo"; [1] [2]). But then I got a bit better at Japanese and read commentary and autobiographical works by other artists—Hirohiko Araki, Kentarou Miura, and Ryoko Kui [3]—and they're much more positive about their creations. They're still humble about it, as any professional generally is, but they certainly aren't as critical as Daisuke is in Artworks 2007. It's definitely odd.

Artworks 2007 is an updated/expanded reprint of an edition that came out 3 years earlier, Artworks of GGX 2000-2004, so a little over half of the captions in Artworks 2007 were written between 2000 and 2004. If it wasn't kenkyo that made Daisuke critical about his art, then, I thought, maybe all the work he had on his plate leading up to the Sammy-Sega merger, which threatened the Guilty Gear IP as a whole[4], had him in kind of a depressive/hyper-critical mindset? That still feels like it could be plausible; his more recent (>2010) commentary is a lot kinder.

It is reassuring knowing that even incredibly skilled artists like Daisuke can still fall into being mean about their own art. Some things never change haha Here's hoping, like Daisuke, we all crawl out of that hyper-critical borderline self-loathing art pit 💪

Thanks for reading the translation!! And for the compliment. Artworks 2007 was my very, very, first large scale GG translation project and I'd like to redo it some day, some of the translations are a little wobbly.... I didn't make a Japanese manuscript for it though, which means I'll have to rescan every page again to get the text off them 😵‍💫

~ https://sakuratips.com/2020/10/20/humble/

~ https://interculturalwordsensei.org/kenkyo/

Hirohiko Araki is known for Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Kentarou Miura for Berserk, and Ryoko Kui for Dungeon Meshi

~ https://www.siliconera.com/arc-system-works-now-owns-the-rights-to-guilty-gear/

(sorry for the ~ before the links lol tumblr really wanted to turn them into embeds...)

#asks #I didn't make a JP manuscript for Artworks 2007 because I didn't think I'd actually end up doing the entire book u_u #Some of them I did directly in a notebook too before switching to doing them almost entirely on my computer lol #(which is muuuuuuch faster my god have you ever looked up kanji by radical instead of just using an OCR and pasting them in?!?)

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for reporting my shitty college roommate to the FWS and her teacher, and possibly getting her suspended/expelled/jailed/fined?

CW for brief dead animal mention

For context: I live in the USA and all native species of birds are protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, which makes it illegal to kill, harm, etc. native bird species and/or possess parts of them including molted feathers, bones, nests, etc.

Also: The FWS is the Fish and Wildlife Service and is a government agency that deals with animal and plant conservation and habitat protection.

Anyways, I (F25) live in a dorm room with two other people, Ally (F26) and Sammy (F28) (not their real names obviously). Sammy is a nice roommate, she's very considerate and kind, and we get along really well.

Ally, on the other hand, is a nightmare.

Very self absorbed, rich parents, "white witch" privileged white girl type, treats Sammy and I like maids instead of roommates.

Ally and I are both art students, I'm pursuing 3D animation and she's doing... Something. I have no idea. Sculpting?

I do digital modeling and animation so I can just do that in my room on my PC, but she needs a specific area to do her sculptures, which is fine!

Except that she does NOT clean up after herself. Leaves material all over the place, there's bits of clay stuck to fucking everything, and she does it right in the living room.

She's also burnt sage INSIDE THE APARTMENT despite Sammy having asthma. She did not warn us beforehand, we found out when we walked in and Sammy started coughing and wheezing and we had to go back outside. She was 100% aware of Sammy's asthma because she saw her use her inhaler once and asked about it.

She then asked if she "could try it" which... Girl what. "Can I try it?" Has now become an inside joke between Sammy and I about her inhaler.

Coming from a rich family, I can tell she's never faced any consequences for her actions. Ever. She thinks she's untouchable and that mommy and daddy will pay for everything and make all her problems go away.

Sammy and I come from families who are not ungodly rich, and that's resulted in her treating us like live-in maids. She does none of the chores, none of the housework, absolutely nothing. Constantly inviting her friends over to peruse her "art gallery". Regularly keeps Sammy and I up at night with her music and friends.

We rent an apartment near our college, and we don't live in the dorms so we don't have anyone to complain to besides our landlord, who's an incredibly sweet elderly woman that we're all hesitant about bothering.

Except for Ally, who's prepared to bother her about everything, including but not limited to: Apartment being too hot. Apartment being too cold. A weird smell. Noise from the street. Neighbors dog barking. Front door being creaky.

We basically went "Haha hey Ally don't worry you're SO busy lol we'll talk to her for you okay!" just so she doesn't bother the poor lady.

We're mostly just afraid that if we kick out Ally, her parents will tear that woman apart. Sammy and I are both unconfrontational anyways and don't want to bother anyone.

Ally is working on her latest sculpture for finals (basically the big report due at the end of a semester). It actually looked pretty cool, but something about it was... Off.

Oh yeah, it's absolutely covered in native bird feathers and a nest. A real one, not one of those fake ones you can buy at a craft store.

She came home one day after going out with her friends for HOURS, and she had two big bags full of stuff. I asked what she was up to and her response was sort of "It's a secret teehee, it's for my art piece ;)" so I was just like haha okay.

So, it turns out her and her friends went out into the woods and spent HOURS picking up molted feathers (all of them are very witchy do-no-harm types so there's no way any of them killed live birds. Ally refuses to even kill bugs, I have to catch them and let them out). She also mentioned her friends parents have tons of bird feeders at their house, which means LOTS of molted feathers.

Also, instead of cleaning them in her bathroom sink she washed them off in the kitchen sink, meaning we couldn't do dishes for a few hours. So that was cool.

I actually collect and clean animal bones in my free time, so I'm very familiar with the laws. I know which species in my state are protected, which species I can possess with a permit, etc. I also know that the MBTA is a thing that exists.

I've met her art teacher before, and I know that the woman's not stupid. She will DEFINITELY notice that the sculpture is covered in blue jay, cardinal, grackle, etc. feathers.

I was going to keep my mouth shut and just let Ally dig her own grave, but I did mention it to her through text. I said "Hey, I love your sculpture but I just wanna let you know that using those feathers is actually illegal, since they're from native species of birds. My parents own chickens and ducks and I can get you a lot of really cool feathers for your project if you want! Sorry for the bad news but I just don't want you to get in trouble :("

She messaged back and said "Um, thanks but I don't want feathers from gross barnyard animals, Mother Gaia gifted me these beautiful feathers. Besides, I actually have money to take care of my problems."

What the fuck.

I didn't know what else to do besides message back "Oh! Okay!"

Those "gross barnyard animals" she mentioned include breeds like dominiques, copper marans, both gold and silver sebrights, Yokohama, and a few cayuga ducks, all of which have absolutely gorgeous feathers. I was also going to surprise her with some peafowl feathers because my parents' friend owns them.

So here's where the AITA part comes in.

I was furious with her constant classism, treating Sammy and I like shit, and blatantly disregarding laws (especially ones literally put in place to protect "Mother Gaia's" creatures) just because her parents have money.

So after she went to bed I went out into the living room, took pictures of her sculpture, and then not only sent the pictures to her art teacher but the FWS. I let the game warden know I also emailed her teacher and vice versa. I also sent screenshots of our conversation where I told her about the law, so they had proof she was 100% aware of it but ignored it anyways.

I let Sammy know, and her response was "That's a thing? Well, her teacher would have reported her anyways I guess."

A few days later, we get a knock on the door. It's a game warden. I let him inside, went to my room, and proceeded to listen to Ally doing her "I'm a poor innocent victim how could you do this to me!" crying. I mostly just felt bad for the poor game warden for having to deal with her.

The only thing I could hear from the other room was her wailing like a banshee and him going "Ma'am, please calm down. Are you alright ma'am? Ma'am..."

A few days later Sammy and I came back from the store to see all of Ally's stuff gone. All of her clay, supplies, clothes, etc. were gone and her room was totally empty except for her bed frame (which came with the house).

I have no idea what happened. I'm sure she wasn't allowed to turn in a sculpture covered in illegal feathers for her final, so Idk if she was suspended/expelled or if she just had a tantrum and moved out?

On one hand it was really fucking nice seeing her face consequences for her actions, but the other part of me feels bad about possibly getting her suspended/expelled/fined/jailed over feathers and a nest.

The EPA website states that punishment for MBTA violations for misdemeanor offences (which I believe she committed since I don't think she planned on selling anything, and I know she didn't kill any of the birds) can range from up to $5,000 in fines to no more than six months in jail.

So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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according2thelore · 8 months ago

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These ES/LS snippets are truly saving my need for more of your fics.

You very quickly became my favorite wincest author, hitting every one of my favorite tropes(hurt/comfort is my bread and butter too!) And I'm excitedly(and impatiently lol) waiting for your next fics to come out.

Your writing is SO GOOD and I find myself going back to your fics all the time. My first was your love potion fic and that's still one of my absolute favorite samdean fics out there.

This isn’t really an ask so much as it is an appreciation lol. Can't wait for your next fic!

(If this was an ask though, I'd love more thoughts on your ES/LS universe and even MORE hurt/comfort and jealousy lol)

BABE???? OH MY????

i don't even know what to say! this is the nicest compliment!!!!! you're so incredibly kind, and i'm so unbelievably honoured that my work is special to you!

EEP! i can't even express how much this ask means to me!!!! there are literally no words!!!! the love potion fic was meant as a fun little add-on to that month's challenge, but i've been blown away by how much folks have liked it--i live for a little melodrama and H/C, lol!

every writer dreams of getting asks like this one, and just ARGH! i'm kissing you on both cheeks!!!!!

as for upcoming things, my next fic will probably be my teen!chesters piece for the wayward sons zine (it will be HEFTY). charlotte and i were outlining this fic, and it ended up being about five pages of outline. so def a larger one!

because this ask was so incredible and lovely and kind (so kind?? holy shit?? my hand in marriage??) i wrote a little thing for you! i hope you like!

dean rubs his hands on the sides of his jeans, before he catches himself doing it. shit.

he crosses his arms, then realizes that he looks awkward and posed, so he uncrosses them again. he pushes his hair back from his face--but fuck, what if his hair looks weird now? dean checks frantically around for a reflective surface, but the only thing even close to him is a giant telescope, and--even though he briefly considers it--there's no way he'd be able to crawl back up it and down in time.

"what are you doing?" he mutters to himself, able to at least recognize that he's acting like a preteen about to meet one of the jonas brothers.

it's just sam.

just sam, kind of, dean's brain quietly corrects. it's just sam, but fucking huge.

it's just sam, but his ridiculous hair has grown and curls softly around his ears, brushes his jaw when he ducks his head. it's just sam, except his arms are bigger than dean's head. dean didn't miss the show the other day when sam came to look for something and lifted a fucking stuffed armchair with one arm.

(dean tried it later, and it took him both hands and two tries to get it off the ground. that thing must be reinforced with some crazy cold war steel or something. definitely.)

dean eyes the main room again. he should just sit at the big table. he eyes the big sword on one of the shelves. no--focus. sam went into "library annex 3" to find a book that he thought dean should absolutely take a look at, and left dean, dazzled, in his wake. so dean is going to sit here and wait, because he's been running out of excuses to see sammy lately.

dean slumps into one of the chairs, sighing. what is wrong with him?

he gets so...easily distracted whenever sammy--future-sam or whatever--starts talking to him. and most of it isn't even his fault, okay? sammy always puffs up whenever either 2006 winchester gets close, a dick-measuring if dean's ever seen one. as soon as sam got a single inch on dean in height, dean's never heard the end of it. but this sammy, older sammy, straightens up and his chest gets all big and--fuck--arms! big arms!!

dean keeps trying to find plausible excuses for sammy to take off his shirt because dean is convinced he has a six-pack under there, and it's his right to know!

"i found it!" a muffled voice from down the hallway, so deep that dean's brain goes a little sideways. and dean feels his whole body lock up, like he's just been thrown out of an airplane.

sam--sammy steps through the doorway, holding up a book triumphantly. his eyes are bright, and he's got little wrinkles at the corners, barely there. his grin is radiant, and dean feels absurdly like he's looking directly at one of those religious frescos with the yellow circles behind everyone's heads. sam would get a kick out of that.

dean whimpers. he straight up fucking whimpers, covering it quickly with a cleared throat.

"great!" he says, too bright. it's not his fault! it's not! dean barely resists the urge to bash his own head in.

so sue him! sam is suddenly huge and old and glad to see dean? he lights up whenever dean walks into a room, greeting him warmly. he seems to find dean adorable, which dean kind of resents, but it's hard to stay mad at sammy when he clearly finds so much delight in seeing him.

and 'sammy' isn't helping. 'sammy' had always been a dean word. it had been an 'us' word, a 'they don't know you like i know you, they can't understand you like i can' word. as soon as dean's own sam--2006 sam--had shrugged off the word, and older sam had donned it, dean knew he was screwed. wires crossed. you can only call so many men 'sammy' before you start to tease them and want to be around them and give them shit and look at their huge fucking tits--wait...no. shit. focus!

"so get this," sammy says, and he slides into the chair next to dean, smooth and graceful and so in touch with every muscle in his body that dean has to catch his breath a little. and his chest does something funny, because sam shows him the book and starts babbling.

he starts babbling. like a two year old sam and an eight year old sam and a twelve and a fifteen and an eighteen year old sam.

it seems impossible that this person--this man, all poise and purpose and focus, whose eyes can cut and soothe, whose stubble scratches when he rubs a hand across his jaw--is still dean's sam. dean's sammy.

and he knows it. and he likes it. this sammy brushes his shoulder and doesn't recoil like it burns. he looks to dean first when something is wrong. dean saw, the other day, how his older self comforted sam after a nightmare, how easily sam contorted himself to fit the shape of older dean's arms. sam likes being dean's. or at least this version of dean.

"anyways, i think that this is probably our most comprehensive record of vampires--their habits, their physiology, their weaknesses. if you wanted to give it a read, i think it'll really come in handy." sam says, still talking like dean cares at all for vampires and not the exact shape of sam's mouth.

dean aches. he feels inadequate. there is something clearly in this dean that is worthy, something that sam finds lovable. or necessary. dean wants to be necessary. dean needs to be necessary.

"yeah." dean says, suddenly, when he realizes that sammy's looking for a response. "that--uh--that sounds great."

"you didn't hear a thing i said, did you?" sammy asks, eyebrow raised, teasing and knowing and fuck--dean's chest collapses. sam knows him.

it's so strange to be known by this...this man. this man who blots out the sun with his shoulders, and has callused hands, and looks at dean like he's proud of him. this man knows him. this man is sammy, and that's all dean every really needs.

"naw." he says, scrubbing a hand in the close-shorn hair at the back of his head, abashed and feeling strange. "'m sorry."

"don't be." sammy rolls his eyes, but it's in good humour. sam--2006 sam, and it's weird that dean has already made that distinction--would genuinely be put out. he thinks dean doesn't take him seriously.

both sams are alien to dean. sam, because his burden is eating him alive. he's terrified of himself, of his powers. furious at what he's becoming and increasingly furious at dean for not taking his own safety seriously. like sam could ever hurt him.

and this sammy, of course, is different. he's physically very different, but also...softer? that's the wrong word. he's easier, maybe. his smiles are soft and he thinks through things before he says them. he doesn't hurt to hold in your hand like sam does, all spikes and hard edges like rock that resents you for holding it. sammy is a stone worn smooth by a river, and dean doesn't know if that makes him a bad brother.

he doesn't want to know, because he can't think about this being another way of failing sam. dean's been failing sam since that first over-long look in 1995.

this sam, at least, dean has a reason for not understanding completely. time has made a stranger of his brother, not circumstance, and time is easier to blame.

"what?" sammy asks, and dean snaps back to the present, abashed again. god. it's like his first fumbling date a fourteen all over again. but wait, no it's not--why did dean think that?

"nothing. sorry. you're just--" dean can't find the words. sammy seems delighted at this, eyes sparking with a challenge like they're both in on a joke.

"i'm..." he prompts, drawing it out. dean sputters. he and sam give each other shit all the time. it shouldn't feel different with this sam, but...it does.

"hi."

dean jerks away, sitting up straight in his chair. sam stands in the doorway. he looks pissed. his hands are balled into fists at his sides, his jaw is set, and he's...not looking at dean.

dean looks to sammy, whose eyes widen. he seems surprised by something. proud of something.

"dean wants to know if we're ready for dinner. what are you doing?" sam asks, words loaded. dean's about to jump in, feeling weirdly guilty. they're just talking about a book, it's not like they were--

"just talking with my little brother." sam says, jostling dean's shoulder with his elbow, like this is all a big joke but what the fuck?? dean's spine melts and drips down his ribs. oh my fucking god.

little brother little brother little brother sam could pin dean down if he wanted to, dean looks down at sam's huge fucking hands oh my god, little brother--

"you--" sam starts, and sammy sits up straighter, tilting his head forward like he's coaching sam through something, but sam's eyes are suddenly on dean, and dean freezes.

he doesn't know what to do under sam's critical gaze. the weight in his stomach is definitely guilt, but dean doesn't know why. dean looks away first.

"we're just talking shop, sam." dean says to his hands. a pause. dean hears sam leave, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

he better not be going to see that old geezer. dean doesn't like he way he looks at sam.

"we almost had him," sammy says, thoughtful. dean looks up, and sammy is looking down at him with an expression so fond that dean's throat closes. "next time."

dean's heart beats faster.

oh man. he is so fucked.

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #animangalover15

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katelynnwrites · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: Jessie Fleming x f!Reader

warnings: none

word count: 585

summary: who knew a crowded and loud locker room would get you a girlfriend?

a/n: merry christmas fun fact anon, i hope you had a good one :)

So Damn Oblivious

Signing for Chelsea was something you’d never expected to do. Growing up in a small town from Switzerland, it never even crossed your mind that you would end up playing in London among some of the world’s best.

However, as much as you loved being there, you were struggling. London was big, so much bigger than your hometown.

Your new teammates were also loud and chaotic. It was intimidating to be among such big names, especially when you were just the new kid.

It’s all a little overwhelming so in the celebratory atmosphere of a match won, you find yourself searching for a quiet corner to escape for a bit.

You’re successful, except that there’s someone already there.

You hesitate but Sam yells something to Erin across the room and you flinch.

Having no other choice, you sit down next to the small brunette.

Jessie gives you a kind smile, pulling one of her airpods out immediately.

‘It’s a bit much isn’t it?’

Nodding shyly at her, you hesitate when Jessie offers you one of her airpods, giving you another smile.

‘I understand, it’s sometimes too loud for me too.’ She admits.

‘Come on.’

Jessie scoots over so that you can move beside her, the two of you tucked away in the only quiet corner in the loud Chelsea locker room.

******

After that, you always seem to be around the Canadian, from being her bus buddy to going on photography trips around London with her.

The team doesn’t really take much notice of their two resident introverts until one day on the bus, where Sam, in an unusual moment of calm, takes a look around.

Most of her teammates were sleeping or quietly doing their own thing so her gaze sweeps over them until she spys you and Jessie at the front of the bus.

She usually sat at the back, where all the other noisy teammates sat so that she could talk as much as she wanted to without Magda telling her to be quiet. So she never really saw you and Jessie till now…

You were curled into Jessie, the brunette’s arms around you as she pressed a kiss onto your head.

There’s a little smile on your face as you tug her closer, kissing her happily and making the Canadian giggle softly.

The comfortable sense of ease in the actions makes it obvious that no this isn’t the first time it’s happening.

Sam sits back down, wondering when the two of you started dating and how she hadn’t noticed it before.

Later she sidles up to Madga and asks, ‘Did you know that Jessie and the new kid are dating?’

The Chelsea captain only clicks her tongue disappointedly.

‘I’m surprised it took you so long to notice Sammy K. They’ve been dating for over a year now. I believe they have even moved in together.’

Sam only blinks in shock as the Swede walks off with a cheeky grin on her face.

The Australian striker blinks again, pieces falling into place.

You always arrived at training with Jessie, the two of you always left together too. You shared a hotel room on away days and the both of you were never far apart. In fact, she was sure that she had seen you holding hands on more than one occasion.

She just wonders how on earth had she been so damn oblivious.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #chelsea fcw x reader #chelsea fcw imagine #canwnt x reader #canwnt imagine #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

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hurlingsupport · 7 months ago

Text

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous (Gender Neutral Reader Insert)

Chapter 7: Welcome to Jurassic World

<- Previous Next ->

When you awaken, your eyes refuse to focus. Your sight is blurry, and it’s as if everything had been covered in black smog.

A cracked windshield greets you once your vision clears, some small pieces hanging by a thread or just completely gone. You’d have to check yourself for any protruding glass later.

Blinking away any lingering blurriness, you realized that the black smog was actually smoke coming from the hood of the car.

“Is everyone okay?” Darius mutters, his voice hoarse.

“Is everyone…?” Yasmina chuckles at his words, but you can hear the undeniable anger in her voice.

She trudged past everyone, throwing open the back doors and jumping out sluggishly.

Oh right, what was even more embarrassing than crashing the van was the fact that Sammy had you all right under her thumb. Well, except Brooklynn, of course.

Sammy calls out to Yasmina, but she pays no mind to the girl and instead walks away from the van with a livid expression. As the two girls walk off, the rest of you hop out of the van to access the damage.

The front of the hood is crumpled, black smoke pouring out of it like a volcano about to burst. The culprit in the crash was a large rock, about the same size as the hood itself.

Other than a singular crack running across the middle of it, the rock didn’t seem to be affected by you crashing into it. But of course, a rock is a rock, and a van is a van.

….

Do you have a concussion or something?

As you and Darius stare down at the hood of the car, Yasmina and Sammy’s argument continues.

“We’re in the middle of a jungle with a monster dinosaur out there, and you…” Yasmina’s words fall short, her rage overwhelming her. “You…”

“Destroyed our only way to get help and lied about it!” Brooklynn finished for her. “I told you guys!”

“So, you did take Brooklynn’s phone?” Darius says in disbelief, his eyes narrowed in a mix of exhaustion and betrayal. “Why? What were you doing?”

While Darius and Brooklynn walk forward to interrogate Sammy, you stay back to think about what to do next. Sure, Sammy’s deception was surprising, but the van was undoubtedly more important. Now all of you would have to continue on foot, and so far that hasn’t gone too well.

“Probably trying to erase my video of her taking those samples from the Sinoceratops.” Brooklynn huffs.

Sammy gasps, her eyes full of guilt. She looks to Yasmina, but upon meeting her angered stare, she lets her gaze fall to the ground.

“And you knew about the Indominus rex because you were snooping around Dr. Wu’s office when I ran into you. I knew it!” Brooklynn yelled, her shattered phone held tightly in her hand.

Is that where they went? You noticed Brooklynn was gone, but Sammy had never even crossed your mind.

“I didn’t mean to destroy the phone. I fell on it when the zipline came down and–”

“But you did steal it?” Ben interrupts her. “You had it this whole time and didn’t tell us?”

Darius walks forward. “Hold up. What were you doing in Dr. Wu’s office, Brooklynn?”

“I…” Brooklynn begins, but when her eyes land on Sammy, she avoids the question altogether. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t break our only way to call for help and then lie about it! This is not my fault! This is her fault! She–”

“I’m here to spy!” Sammy shouts suddenly, her words causing a confused silence to fall across your group. “For a company called Mantah Corp.”

“Mantah Corp?” Darius wonders aloud, before explaining to the rest of you. “They’re a bioengineering company, big rivals with Masrani. They tried to make dinosaurs, too, but Wu beat them to it.”

“You doomed us all for some lousy company?” Ben snarled.

“Why would you do that?” You asked quietly.

Sammy pauses, her gaze wandering across everyone in the group. She wasn’t going to get out of this, so she might as well explain herself. And so, with a sigh, she does exactly that.

“Our ranch was in trouble, so my folks had to borrow a lot of money from some shady people. We didn’t know that they were fronting for Mantah Corp. They said we’d lose everything unless I spied for them.”

She continued with a shuttered breath. “Use the behind-the-scenes access I’d get at camp to gather info from Wu’s lab, and DNA from dinos, and whatever else they needed.” She spares a glance towards Brooklynn, her head lowering with guilt.

“But then Brooklynn caught on, and I got scared, and then everything went wrong.” She walks towards Yasmina, her face wrinkled with remorse. “This is the last thing I wanted to happen.”

“Oh.” Yasmina scoffs. “To be next to a broken van on a killer dinosaur island? Hey, me too! What are the odds?”

“Yaz, I–”

“Was it all a lie, wanting to be friends? Pretending you cared about…” Yasmina’s voice trails off, before getting back on track. “You just needed someone to hide what you were doing. Tell me I’m wrong.”

The only answer she gets is a shuttered sob from Sammy.

“I’m such an idiot.” Yasmina murmurs before turning around and walking off.

Sammy follows her, trying to explain her actions. She places a hand on Yasmina’s shoulder to stop her.

“Don’t touch me.” With a tense jaw and clenched fists, she pushes the girl’s hand off her. “Go away, Sammy.”

With watery eyes, Sammy runs away from the group.

With Sammy gone, Yasmina rejoins the rest of your group, who all stay awkwardly silent.

Bumpy, unaffected by the sad atmosphere, rears her hind legs to get Yasmina’s attention.

“Not now Bumpy.” She whispers.

“Look, I know the situation we’re in is suboptimal–” Ben starts tersely.

“It’s trash. Just say it’s trash, Ben.” Brooklynn says as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

Ben’s about to continue his attempt at cheering the group up, but a sharp gasp from you distracts him.

“What?” Darius asks, ever the leader.

Ignoring his question, you pull a small shard of glass out of Kenji’s arm, prompting a yelp to escape him.

“It’s gone now.” You answer curtly, throwing the shard off to the distance. Kenji stares at you in what you think is fear, and you almost laugh in his face before Bumpy grabs your guy’s attention.

She jumps and squeals, causing Ben to look at her worriedly.

“Bumpy, what are you…”

A loud rumbling became obviously apparent, and only a second later, the Indominus rex burst out of the treeline.

Everyone runs out of the way, and you hurriedly help Ben and Darius pull Bumpy out of the way so that she doesn’t get squashed.

“This is trash! This is trash!” Ben screams.

Hiding on the other side of the van, confusingly, the Indominus doesn’t bother with any of you. Instead, it bolts in the other direction as it roars.

“It’s running.” You state in a fit of confusion.

“What the…” Darius sputters.

The sound of rotors and gunfire soon invade your ears, a helicopter soon coming into sight chasing after the Indominus.

“Masrani’s helicopter!” Kenji yells as he points to the aircraft. “That’s his call sign on the tail!”

“They’re shooting at the Indominus!” Darius yells over the commotion, quickly pursuing the helicopter, causing you all to do the same.

Eventually, you all come to a stop as an enormous hemisphere comes into sight. Even without your glasses, the geodesic dome was large enough for you to recognize it as Jurassic World’s Aviary. It stored their Pterosaurs, although with the Indominus headed straight for the dome, that’s likely to change soon.

Glass shatters loudly, and yet the helicopter continues its gunfire as it hovers over the dome.

“What was that?” Brooklynn yells.

“Yeah! Kick its butt, Masrani!” Kenji screams, his hands cupping his mouth. “We’re saved! Yeah, baby!”

Kenji turns to Darius, slapping his back playfully. “Ah! I told you, they’ve got it totally under—”

In an instant, the helicopter is falling through the dome, gray smoke trailing after it before an explosion sounds across the dense forest.

A long string of blurs come after the explosion, and you can only hope that they aren’t what you think they are.

“Are those…?” You squint your eyes to differentiate the blurs soaring in the sky, but a tug at your wrists steals your focus.

Darius pulls you closer to the group as he replies. “The Pteranodons got loose. We’re practically sitting ducks! We’ve got to take cover!”

Kenji gasps as he takes the van tablet from Brooklynn’s hands.

“The Kayak River!” He points to a spot not too far from where you all were. “The entrance is near here. It goes underground, beneath the ridge. If we follow it, it’ll take us right to the main park.”

“Then that’s where we need to be. Come on!” Darius shouts, and everyone immediately heads for the Kayak River.

However, Bumpy can’t seem to get the hint that you all need to go. Ben tries to pull her from one side, but with her weight, he can only move her an inch or two away from where she stands.

You run back towards the two, grabbing one side of Bumpy as Ben grabs the other. With a huff, you both hold her in the air as you run after the others.

“Come on!” Darius hollers towards you and Ben, running ahead but never straying too far from the two of you.

Screeching from above becomes fearfully obvious, and you can only push yourself to run faster. Your legs ache, and a cramp in your side steals your breath like a parasite.

One Pteranodon dives, and Kenji, the appointed line leader, has to duck down to avoid its beak.

“Come on!” He yells as he changes course, running through some foliage.

Bumpy’s weight really begins to… well, weigh on you. Your breath comes out in shallow huffs, and a short glance towards Ben tells you he’s in the same boat.

Just before you can reach the tunnel leading towards the Kayak River, Ben’s legs give out, and Bumpy’s mass is shoved onto you. Her weight forces you down to the ground with her and Ben.

In an instant, Darius is in front of you, trying his best to pull Bumpy towards the tunnel where the rest of the group had already gone. Ben and you try to push her as Darius pulls, giving up on the whole carrying thing. Still, she only shrieks in fear of the situation.

A screech from above finally scares her into getting a move on, and she rushes past the three of you. The victory is extremely short-lived as a Pteranodon dives towards you all with ill intention.

You yowl in fright, pawing at the dirt to pull yourself upright and into a running position. Darius and Ben scurry after you, screaming all the while.

Running into the tunnel doesn’t grant you any safety, as the Pteranodon follows with determination. Its piercing cry echoes on the concrete walls.

Lit up by electric lanterns, a sliding door leading to the river attraction becomes your goal destination. Ignoring the soreness in virtually every part of your body, and the pounding in your head, you center your attention on the small gap between the door and the concrete frame.

Barging into the Kayak River area, twist your body in order to avoid stepping on Bumpy. With a leg up in the air, and your other foot bouncing to balance yourself, someone flings themselves into you before you can stabilize yourself.

You and the perpetrator fall to the ground, and though you expect to crack your head open on the concrete floor, your head meets a wooden dock instead. You can’t say the same for your back, sadly.

Pushing yourself up and onto your elbows, you stare with narrowed eyes at the culprit. Ben ignores your heated glare, koala-hugging you in response. You try standing, but the boy sticks to you like glue despite your efforts to peel him off. Gloomily accepting your fate, you survey your new surroundings.

Yasmina stands in front of the door, having been the one to slide it shut after the four of you ran in. The animalistic squeals behind the metal door give you tentative relief. Exhausted panting infiltrates the tunnel, everyone too busy catching their breath to discuss anything that had happened just yet.

“Jurassic World River Adventures,”

Ben’s grip on you falters as he looks up at the speakers in the ceiling. “What?”

“Prepare yourselves for the wonder of the underground river. Two adventurers per kayak. Life vests must be worn at all times. Adults, please fasten your own life vests before helping little adventurers. Remain seated at all times. Your journey begins now.”

In due time, Ben releases his grip on you and explores the tunnel with Bumpy. You gladly take a small break away from him. He was getting a bit too clingy for your tastes.

You pick up a stray life vest from the floor, the color a bright yellow hue. Both the vests and the oars had been left scattered around the Kayak River docks. The people down here must have been in a hurry to get out. Has the park already been evacuated?

Striving to forget that thought, you pull the vest over your head and fasten the click belt.

“Brooklynn and I call the CKK.” Kenji announces, hands placed proudly on his hips.

“CKK?” Brooklynn asks.

“Cool kids’ kayak.” He answers, flicking open some sunglasses before putting them on smoothly.

Brooklynn huffs in annoyance.

“Ben and Bumpy can go on this one.” Darius points to a specific kayak.

“I’ll go with them.” Yasmina says as she barges past Sammy. “Let’s go, dude.”

Ben stammers as he’s pushed toward the kayak.

That leaves you, Darius, and Sammy. Seeing as they were nearing the weight limit on Ben’s kayak, and Kenji didn’t invite you to the quote unquote CKK.

And you’re definitely saying that while doing the air quotes in your mind, because honestly, you’re a little peeved that they didn’t invite you.

“Come on, Sammy. Let’s get out of here.” Darius addresses her after a long silence.

She follows quietly as you and Darius lead her towards your guy’s boat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to thank you for your patience.”

As you all begin your little kayaking adventure, the tunnel becomes darker and darker. Yasmina and the CKK have a little collision because of the darkness, but Kenji brushes off Yasmina’s annoyance.

Your stare travels from the kayaks in front of you to Sammy’s back. You’re not too mad about her betrayal. You’ve only spoken to her once, after all.

You only wonder what the specifics of her situation are. Did her parents tell her to spy for them? Did she do it all on her own? What’s going to happen to her farm now with Jurassic World’s Indominus Rex situation?

You shook your head, putting your focus into paddling the kayak. You didn’t feel like asking her those things. It really wasn’t any of your business. You cast your gaze on Darius instead, who had his full attention on Sammy’s back.

Geez, he’s staring harder than you ever would. You slowly turn your head down towards the water beneath you. Along the walls of the artificial cave, a bioluminescent glow from the algae lights your group’s path.

It’s impressive just how pretty they made this place. You wished you could have come here in different circumstances. Words can’t describe the beauty of the waterfall in the Kayak River. And with the added bioluminescence, it has a magical glow that leaves your bunch gawking at the sight.

Your kayak sits in silence, at least until Sammy has enough of Darius’s prying eyes. Even the beautiful view can’t get her to ignore his prominent staring.

“Just ask.” She mutters.

Darius’s eyes widen upon being caught, his paddling pausing for a moment, though he adheres to her words, regardless.

“It’s just that you talk so much about your ranch and your family, but your family sent you here to break the law.” He draws out his words, awaiting a rebuttal from Sammy.

Sammy immediately turns to the boy, her brows furrowed. “Don’t, Darius. You don’t know anything about my family.”

“I know they put you in danger when they sent you to spy on the park. How can you still defend them?”

“Because they didn’t send me.” She admits. “They said no to Mantah Corp. I was the one who contacted the Mantah Corp agent. I agreed to come here.”

She finally turns to look you and Darius in the eyes. “My family… they didn’t even know what I was planning until I was already on the ferry. Smashing the phone was an accident, but Brooklynn’s right.”

You and Darius’s paddling had just about completely stopped. It’s only when she pauses do you both start up the paddling once more.

She faces away from the both of you, shaking her head earnestly. “This is all my fault.”

“I still don’t see why–” Darius begins.

Sammy turns suddenly, a serious expression worn on her face. “If your family was in trouble, wouldn’t you do anything in your power to save them?”

You and Darius stop in your tracks, her words sinking into your minds like a snake’s venomous fangs. Right, many people would, wouldn’t they?

A dreary atmosphere comes after. No words are spoken until everyone gets farther into the underpass.

“You guys, should the algae be moving?” Sammy questions, her voice loud so that the others could hear her from their kayaks.

On the upper cave ground stood two Parasaurolophuses, their bodies glowing a similar hue to the rest of the bioluminescent cave.

“Don’t panic, guys. They’re herbivores!” Darius reassures. “Unbelievable! Dr. Wu must have put the bioluminescent gene into these Parasaurolophuses.”

They growl deeply, watching calmly as the kayaks pass them by. When Bumpy squeals, however, the Parasaurolophuses crawl into the water. One emerges from the water right next to your boat, scaring the three of you from the sudden appearance.

Darius quickly gets over his surprise, reaching out to stroke its glowing snout in amazement. You watch as a carefree smile stretches across his face.

Though it quickly reverts into an expression of surprise when another Parasaurolophus bursts out of the water on the other side of your kayak, with about four more appearing soon after.

They groan and growl, pushing the kayaks against each other. It’s hard not to fall off of your kayak with the dinosaurs nearly shoving it underwater. The arm of one pushes your side of the kayak down and into the water. You push the arm away from you, aiming to stop the kayak from capsizing.

You can feel the chill of the water creeping onto your arm, and with a final push, the Parasaurolophus releases its grip from your side of the kayak.

Though with the freedom, you get tossed onto Darius’s legs while accidentally kicking Sammy.

She gasps, the kayak tilting to one end as she struggles to stay on board. Darius can only push himself into the kayak to avoid the neck of a Parasaurolophus.

Eventually it dives underwater, a bump coming from under your kayak as it makes its way towards Bumpy. With the disturbance gone, you help Sammy to the middle of the kayak, which settles the previously tilting boat.

She sends a thankful glance, but your attention is solely on the group of Parasaurolophuses surrounding Bumpy, Ben, and Yasmina.

Bumpy’s squealing had drawn them in. Did they think you guys were hurting her? That would explain their rather abrupt attack on your group. Someone just needs to calm Bumpy down and the Parasaurolophuses should back off. Maybe.

“Calm–” you start, however the unexpected silence from the Parasaurolophuses stuns you into a silence of your own.

The flock of dinosaurs stand eerily still, all peering into the darkness of the tunnel further ahead. With a sudden cry from one of them, the group of dinosaurs dive into the water and swim opposite to where your guys were heading.

Without finishing your sentence, you stare at the retreating herd, to the darkness of the tunnel, and then towards the kayaks of your fellow campers.

However, they soon disappear from your sight as in a thick layer of darkness obscures your vision. The colorful light of the algae from before is nowhere to be seen.

“Uh, cool kids to nerds, where are you?” A voice calls, and you don’t need to see him to tell that it’s Kenji.

“Over here!” Darius answers, ignoring the name-calling. “I think something scared the Parasaurolophuses.”

Sammy cuts in with a call of you and Darius’s name, her voice wobbly. “If we stopped paddling, why are we still moving forward?”

The two of you gasp, snapping your heads to the water carrying your kayaks forward all on its own. You hadn’t noticed because of the lack of light, but a current had forced your kayaks forward.

This isn’t right. As far as you know, the Kayak River attraction isn’t supposed to have a current. The fences may be down, but how would that affect the water down here?

Your question is answered by two separate tunnels further down. One mimicking the artificial cave architecture the tunnels had until now, while the other is a simple circular passage.

“Paddle! There’s a current pulling us into a different tunnel!” Darius orders with a shout.

Everyone shoves their oars into the water to backtrack, but the pull of the tide is much stronger than your guy’s paddling. Inevitably, your kayaks drag you down into the tunnel, your surroundings turning pitch-black before you’re shrouded in the blinding light of the sun.

Wait, the sun?

With a hand hovering over your eyes, you check your surroundings. Though they aren’t too different from before. You all are still on your kayaks, floating on water, only now your group is in some sort of water stadium.

“We’re okay. We’re okay.” Ben sighs happily.

Sammy leaned backwards into the kayak, her back resting on your legs as she laughed.

You ignored her, your head swiveling around in all directions. This place was like a football field, both in size and in looks. Only instead of a field, it had an enormous pool. This must be an attraction of some sort that happened to be connected to the Kayak River.

Although, if that’s true, the only aquatic animal Jurassic World could recover is the Mosasaurus. And you really don’t want this to be the Mosasaurus attraction.

A gasp from Kenji is enough confirmation that your assumptions are true. You hate being right sometimes.

“Why did you gasp? That didn’t sound like a good gasp!” Ben whines.

“Cause I know exactly where we are, guys.” Kenji mutters. “We’re in the Jurassic World Lagoon. And so is the Mosasaurus.”

His words bring about a quiet panic, one that has everyone looking every which way.

“I assume the Mosasaurus is some kind of giant fish dinosaur that’s gonna try and eat us?” Ben assumes with a whimper.

“Not exactly a dinosaur, but yeah, pretty much.” You correct, eyes searching for some kind of escape from the lagoon. But your lack of glasses makes it impossible.

A low, raspy growl sounding not too far behind you gets a yelp out of Darius. Definitely your guy’s signal to get the hell out of here.

Harder said than done, especially when the Mosasaurus circles your group. Its body is just barely hidden under the blue water, almost as if it wants to be seen. And maybe it does.

“It’s circling, testing us. It’s acting like a shark.” Brooklynn says in a low tone. “We’re intruders in its domain, so it’s investigating us. Before it gets confident, decides to… to…”

A snarl interrupts her whispering, and Bumpy squeals at the noise.

“This is bad,” Brooklynn finishes.

“We have to get out now!” Kenji whines, holding his oar to his chest in fear.

“There’s a ladder by the spectator stands.” Darius points, and though it’s only a blur of colors to you, your eyes follow his hand, regardless.

Kenji winces at the distance. “How are we gonna–”

“Y’all?” Sammy draws your attention to the water.

Just like Brooklynn said, the Mosasaurus is getting more confident, now swimming directly beneath your kayaks.

“Paddle! Go, go, go!” Darius commands.

“This is not how Kenji wanted to go out!” Kenji yells, his sunglasses close to falling off.

“This isn’t on my to-do list either!” Yasmina hisses.

So far you’ve all made it more or less half-way across the water with no disruptions from the Mosasaurus, but you’re sure that’ll change soon.

“Keep paddling!”

“Almost there!”

Bumpy squeals, fearful from the constant splashing and movement of the kayaks.

Another growl from the deep blue pushes you to paddle faster despite your sore arms.

The CKK, as Kenji had previously called it, arrives at the spectator stands before anyone else. And you wonder if your kayak will make it at all. With three people, your kayak’s been falling behind the other two. Even Bumpy’s kayak had gotten in front of you guys.

The three of you pant from exhaustion, shrieking at every wave made by the Mosasaurus. Because if anyone was going to get eaten, it would be the ones falling behind the rest. And admittedly, your kayak was doing exactly that.

You don’t draw your attention away from the spectator stand. You may not see it too well, but you trust Sammy and Darius to guide the kayak in the right direction.

“Don’t look back! Just keep paddling!” Darius calls out to Sammy and you.

“I’m trying!” Sammy says as she forces her head away from the splashing behind your kayak. “What’s Yaz doin’?”

Her words cause you to divert your attention to your side. There stands Yasmina in all her glory atop a small foot area at the bottom of a large metal pillar.

The pillar in question is used to keep the meat conveyor upright so that it’d stay out of reach from the Mosasaurus. It’s not how it would’ve fed in the wild, but they’ve got to put on the show for the guests, don’t they? Taking your attention off the money hungry tactics of Jurassic World, you wonder why in the world Yasmina’s standing there.

You get an answer when she bangs on the pillar, shouting at the top of her lungs. You couldn’t see it, but judging by her laughter, you guess it worked. Either that, or she was just insane. Considering her antics, you wouldn’t be too surprised.

“She’s distracting it, buying us time. Keep going!” Darius ordered, more towards Sammy than you, whose gaze had wandered yet again.

With a thud, your kayak meets the spectator stand roughly. Sammy crawls out first, lending a hand to you when you crawl out after. She instantly turns her attention towards Yasmina while you help Darius out of the kayak on your own.

“We’ve gotta do something!” Sammy cries, watching as the Mosasaurus swims towards Yasmina. She tears off her life vest, face wrinkled in fear as she hurries up the ladder leading to the stadium above. Darius and you follow in her footsteps, although a lot less hysteric.

A mechanical stir followed by Kenji’s shouting leads you to believe that Yasmina might actually have a chance at surviving this. Or at least you hope so. She’s one of the few people you enjoy here.

Joining the rest of the group at the stadium, you watch as a thick wire rope cable emerges from the water, a hook at the end. Tossing her oar into the depths below, Yasmina jumps onto it, grasping the cable with all four limbs.

“Go, go, go!”

“Yasmina!”

Once the cable is pulled as high as it can go, it moves in your guy’s direction. Yasmina leans back with her legs out, and then forward with her legs in. Over and over she does this, most likely to build momentum. With the Mosasaurus circling her below, and no set drop point, she’s going to jump.

“Come on, Yaz!”

“Oh, no…”

“She’s not gonna make it.”

As those words leave Kenji’s mouth, the Mosasaurus breaks the surface of the water, flinging itself upwards to snap its jaws at Yasmina. In an incredible show of luck, the Mosasaurus latches onto the horizontal wire holding the line and hook. Its teeth cut the wire and Yasmina swings through the air. Can’t be too lucky, it seems.

With little to no time to prepare herself, she’s flung straight into the stadiums. She lands in a crouched position, her feet meeting the ground violently. Yasmina grunts at the impact and curls in on herself, clutching her left leg in pain.

“Yasmina!”

You all surround her, forming a circle of concern. Darius and Sammy help her sit up.

“I’m okay.” She assures you all, but a touch to her ankle forces a pained groan from her lips. “I think.”

“Uh, also, where’d everyone go?” Ben asks, looking side to side at the empty stadium surrounding your group.

“They must’ve evacuated the park.” You answer swiftly, gaze switching from Yasmina’s injured leg to the empty stadium seats.

With no further words, everyone explores the stadium for signs of… well, anything really. Yasmina sits grumpily at the very bottom of the stadium, forced to stay where she’s at because of her possibly broken leg.

Despite the pain, she continues pressing her hands against her ankle as if it would suddenly stop hurting. You watch Sammy approach her, but it doesn’t seem to go well, considering Yasmina stands up and limps away from her.

You sigh, heart still beating out of your chest from everything that’s happened so far. Bumpy bellows softly to your left, happily being used as a pillow by Ben. His eyes are shut, but you doubt he was actually sleeping. At least he feels safe enough to close his eyes at all. You wonder why that is.

You jump and look away when he shifts from his previous position. He looks towards you, who pointedly looks the other way until he speaks.

“I’m… glad you’re okay.” A confused stare from you brings him to continue hastily. “I–I mean you, Darius, and Sammy.”

His words bring a perplexed look to your face, but you let a chuckle leave your mouth all the same.

“Thanks. Uh, you too, I guess.” Your words are lackluster, but his face lights up despite it.

It goes quiet between the two of you, but not in an awkward way. Which is a first for you. Ben lies back down, head resting on Bumpy’s back once more. And this time, he might actually sleep.

The blaring sound of a siren makes that an impossible feat, however, the noise invading everyone’s ears out of the blue. The siren stays at a steady pace, blaring its loud horn before fading and doing it all again.

The deafening sound of it forces you all into a wide-eyed daze, looking around like deers to the headlights of a car. You don’t want to ask, but you truly wonder how much worse this experience can get.

#gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader #jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jurassic world

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watchoutforthefanfics · 7 months ago

Text

the apple pie life for me (and you) // Dean Winchester x Castiel (SPN)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Cough Syrup - Glee Cast (Cover)

Summary: One minute, Castiel is confessing his love as he sacrifices himself, so Dean can live. The next, Dean is dead, and Castiel's avoiding him in Heaven. Or maybe Dean's avoiding him. Dean has probably never been more confused in his life, feelings for his best friend and all.

TWs: kinda angst, mentioned vomit, very slightly alluded child abuse (john winchester), a little bit of yelling, sort of suicidal thoughts (like yeah, but he's already dead), cursing, crying, low self-worth, mention of self-sacrifice, Dean is bad at feelings (and so is Cas), avoidance, mention of death, and confrontation.

[[A/N: This is a finale fix-it, but with the finale still canon, if you will. Except Dean doesn't like just drive until Sam dies. This actually ripped out my soul and shoved it back in. I felt possessed writing this. Also, let Dean say fuck. Anyway. This shit will fuck you up, but it's a happy ending !!! Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

Dean doesn't think he wanted to die.

But he's not really sure. And he kinda feels like that's something you should be sure about.

As he cruises along in Baby with no place to go, but also somehow having somewhere in mind, he just keeps thinking about it.

Lots of things, really. Chuck, everyone disappearing, Jack, Sammy back on Earth (he thinks he's always gonna worry about him), and... and Cas.

See that's... that's where his mind hitches.

Because otherwise, after Jack took over, Dean thought things were going pretty good. Great, even. Him and Sammy doing the same thing it all started with. (Sans the Dad thing, probably for the best, but still-)

But, the more he thinks about it now, where there is nothing but the road, Baby, and him... That life, that wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't living how he wanted to. Sure, he wanted Sammy in it, but to say he still wanted to be a hunter?

When he thought about it, it kinda felt like he was still playing the role that Chuck had carved out for him. He knows he had free will then, he knows Chuck wasn't in charge, but he just... That role was comfortable, familiar, and he thinks maybe... both him and Sam just fell right back into it.

And then, there's the just him and Sam thing. It started like that, yeah, and don't get him wrong, he loves Sammy. (It's probably in his bones now, it's so ingrained in his friggin' DNA.) But it wasn't just him and Sammy, not anymore.

So, how can everything be 'goin' good' when you're missing pieces, people?

Like Jody and the girls, Garth and his family, Eileen, Jack and... and Cas.

So, even though, Jack fixed it all, it was still kinda like him and Sam were the only ones on the planet. Alone.

He wasn't happy with what he was doing, he was missing people like hell, and his brain was in near-constant turmoil because... because his best friend was dead. And it wasn't like he tried to stop it, live like how Castiel wanted him to. What he died for.

But he just couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to live happily when Cas was dead? Because of him, of all things.

So, maybe... maybe he did want to die.

Dean doesn't think it's only the Cas... thing, he thinks it's a lot of things (probably). But, he thinks him not being there is really what makes it all so wrong.

He thinks back to when Cas was dead before, when... when all he needed was a "damn win" and he got him back. Everything was so much better, even though shit hadn't been done about Chuck or any of their other problems. He had a damn win.

He's just starting to think that maybe he didn't need a win, maybe he needed Cas.

And maybe that's why the life he lived wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's why it was so easy to die when he'd been fighting all his life to live freely. Escape whatever goddamn prophecies plagued his life, and live how he wanted to.

Team Free Will, he remarked somewhere in his head.

And yet, the only one living freely was Cas. Sam and Dean, written like damn books, apparently, but Cas?

Chuck said he never followed him, said that he had a "crack in his chassis" (whatever the hell that meant). And he'd even... the turning point for him was Dean. Goddamn "gripping him tight and raising him from perdition".

That was when he'd veered off the path Chuck had built for him, and out of the damn countless universes, this... his Cas was the only one who broke the cycle.

And then, he'd think back to the moment he died for the... for the last time. What he said, and how he said it, and even when Dean tried to twist it to something that wasn't so goddamn scary. He couldn't. Because he had said it clear as day.

And just telling him gave him 'true happiness' (like a damn fairytale). He didn't expect a response, or anything, just telling him. Dean couldn't wrap his head around it at all. Hadn't since the day he said it.

Every time he thought about both of them, Cas's... confession and Chuck's words, he connected the dots. He'd never let himself think about it, but now he had all the time in the world to. It's all he could do.

So, he let himself think it, just this once.

Cas... loving him, that wasn't planned. That was all Cas. This Cas. His Cas.

He maybe even loved him so much that it broke god's will.

How was Dean supposed to handle that? Digest that? When seconds later, Cas was dead. Even now, he couldn't-

There was a house.

To his left, it had been miles of just meadows and fields, and now... now there was a house. A white house, that you sort of just pictured in your head when you imagined a 'family home'. It looked kind of oddly like his house when he was a kid, but also not at all.

It had a white picket fence and a big yard. It had all the works.

The apple pie life, his mind chimed.

Dean paused a moment, wondering if this was someone else's. His eyes peered around it, focusing on the long, empty driveway (the kind that was half dirt and half rocks). And he came up decidedly empty.

He took a breath, and mumbled low (maybe to make sure he could still talk), "'S worth a shot."

Flinching a little at Baby bumping along the rocks, Dean slowly crept up to the house. Eyeing it the whole time, as if it would change when he looked away. Or maybe like it wouldn't feel right halfway up the driveway.

But, he felt the same all the way through.

Dean pursed his lips, staring at the white shingles and the big porch with two rocking chairs -one on either side.

It was two stories, but still small. And it wasn't perfect either, not like out of one of those friggin' house magazines where everything seemed so clean, it was almost scary. There were scuffs and marks, and the grass grew too high right next to the steps.

He took a breath, and stepped out of Baby, throwing the keys around his fingers on instinct. The jingle was the only noise that filled the air then.

It was crazy how much the air smelt the same, felt the same. He could see the wind shift the blades of grass and the branches of the trees, it felt so much like... home.

Even though Dean had never seen this house before in his life, it felt like home.

That... That feeling was new.

He let his eyes surf over the land a second, before catching on a barn -rundown and hidden behind the house. And even though it was, Dean traced the driveway all the way back to it.

Letting himself take one last look at the house, he slowly trailed back to the barn. Feet crushing over rocks and twigs, he truly had never felt more alive. Ironically.

It wasn't the long stretch of road, the slick seats of Baby, or the low hum of the engine. It was the sound of birds, the smell of flowers, and the fresh air. Dean nearly almost bent down to get dirt on his hands just to feel it again, instead of the smooth steering wheel he knew so well.

He didn't though, and instead, approached the barn. Somewhere in his head, it rang familiar. He wasn't sure why or how, but as he walked through the door it just... he knew it.

And as his footsteps echoed through the air, it hit him.

Dean spun around on his feet and looked toward the door, almost on instinct.

He did know this barn. It was where he... where he first met Cas. He remembers it more with all the sigil and black paint everywhere, but looking back at the door, at the lights-

He laughed a little, the dramatic son of a bitch.

Dean cut himself short, watching the doors. Maybe he was expecting something, someone, but he'd never say it out loud. He couldn't, not now.

Cas had been right there.

And there was a part of him that wished he still was.

He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering what exactly he was going to do with it. Or if he was just gonna keep it empty. Because...

He had the spare thought to make it into a kinda garage, build some shelves maybe, fill the walls with parts. He could pull Baby in, shelter her from the rain. If it did rain here. Somehow Dean hoped so. He wanted stuff like rain, snow, the crunching leaves, and the smush of mud under his shoe.

It was weird to say he wanted to feel human in Heaven, but he did.

Because when had he ever felt human? Really?

He wanted that. He wanted a lot of things now that could never have imagined back then. Or didn't think to, he guessed.

Patting one of the wooden walls, Dean made his exit.

His eyes lingered on the backyard for a moment, where the expanse of grass seemed larger, and in the corner, there seemed to be a fenced-off patch of dirt. Maybe for a garden.

He had never thought about having a garden, but he wasn't really against it either.

He looked at for a second, before thinking to himself. Cas would probably like that.

He had that bee thing, and bees like flowers, right? So, maybe he'd offer it to him. Let him have the space. It would be nice having him there, a little piece of him around him every day.

Because he knew that he was tinkering around somewhere, supposedly with Jack. And maybe... maybe it would be nice for him to have a break, a garden.

Dean bit his lip, tapping his foot a moment.

Was that what it was? Was that why you wanted him here, Winchester? Really?

He kept moving forward, steady steps back to the front of the house. For once in his life, there was no rush. He could take his time.

By the time he swung around to the porch, the wind had died down and left only the shining sun in its wake. It felt just like when the sun touched his skin on Earth, maybe even a little better. He liked it the same reason he liked everything else, just being human.

Dean moved up the steps, stairs creaking with every move and his hand drifting across the railing. It was imperfect with bumps and peeling paint, and he had a thought that maybe he could fix it one day. Maybe that's why the house is the way it is, so he could fix it.

Like maybe it had been built like that because he'd always wanted to do it. Fix up a house. Did Cas know that?

His eyes roamed over to the second rocking chair thoughtfully. He kind of had an idea of who he wanted there.

He let his fingers drift over the chair a moment, like maybe if he thought hard enough, he'd be there. Here.

Dean didn't think that he could talk to him, or maybe that he would be comfortable doing so. But that didn't mean he didn't want to friggin' see him, talk to him.

And even though it was scary as hell, he would talk about it if Cas wanted to. He just thinks that the natural progression is his response, and Dean... Dean wasn't sure he had one. Or maybe he had one, but he wasn't sure he could say it.

He was a damn coward.

Pulling open the door, Dean's eyes slunk along the walls. The first thing he saw was a hallway, softly colored walls, and frames along it. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him (on instinct) and drew his attention to the pictures.

A lot of them, he recognized.

Old pictures of him and Sammy, pictures of his Mom and Dad. But some, he hadn't.

His fingers trailed over a frame. It was him and Cas laughing in the bunker, he'd had no idea it was taken at all. It must've been Sam, but he'd never found the need to show him, apparently.

He had that sort of crinkly smile that he'd get sometimes, and Dean was saying something but he was laughing halfway through it. And Cas was just looking at him like he always did.

Ever since Cas's goodbye, he'd been rethinking everything he knew. Everything.

From the first time he saw him to the last, he'd looked through everything -trying to find it. Trying to see how he'd missed it for so long. And when he did, it was right damn in front of him.

That was probably what he hated this most, that he'd never seen it. Dean had never even thought of the possibility, only once or twice when some dick would make an offhand remark. (Which, when he looked back on it, happened a lot.)

And it has seemed just so far away. Impossible.

Maybe that wasn't because he hadn't... but because he was a broken human (past damn repair) and he was an angel of the Lord.

How could he love me?

And then, there was all that he said. That he believed Dean was so much better than he did. At his very core was love of all things.

"The one thing I want, I know I can't have."

Knows he can't have, it kept ringing through his head. As he wandered up the stairs, maybe even before that, when he was driving, and maybe even before that when it was just him and Sammy ganking bitches.

He didn't tell Sam, and maybe that was the biggest thing. Maybe he felt some guilt, or maybe... maybe he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wasn't sure.

Dean wasn't sure about any goddamn thing at this point.

He took a breath and peeked into the rooms. He didn't want to go fully in them, he wasn't sure why. But one of them, he recognized to be a guest bedroom. It was empty, except for a bed and a dresser -impersonal.

Maybe for Sammy someday.

There was a bathroom on the other wall, he thinks he has two. One downstairs and one up. (Maybe even three, he hasn't looked at his master bedroom yet.) He paused a moment, maybe imagining things on the sink. Imagining a rug he buys one day (do they even buy things? Or does he just think it into existence?). It was domestic, and Dean couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

He trailed down the stairs again, and just to his right, he saw another bathroom -right by the front door. It was empty again, except for the essentials. Toilet, shower, and sink. He didn't waste anymore time.

Across from it was, he guessed, the living room. And he kinda expected the same, just the essentials, maybe some fuzzy throw pillows that Dean would inevitably throw out. Maybe a rug he'd say he didn't like, but he'd keep it anyway.

But it wasn't.

Instead, Dean found something a lot more personal.

It was a big TV with shelves surrounding it filled with movies. And the more he looked at it, the more at it -they were his favorites. And on the wall under the window, there was a cassette player (no cassettes, but they were probably out in Baby) and to its left a mini fridge. Dean chanced a look in it and found his favorite type of beer. And under it, on one of the shelves was an unused record player. Beside both of them, there was one of those containers for vinyls (Dean had friggin' clue what it was called), and it was filled. He didn't have to look to know it was all his favorites.

There were bean bags piled in the corner like he'd have too many visitors for the couch. Or maybe they'd expect him to. Cas would expect him to.

Dean felt like his breath was shot out of his chest. A little like he couldn't friggin' breath.

His Dean-cave.

It was a damn upgrade, yeah, not with concrete floors and stuffy walls. But in essence the very same. Probably the perfect version of it in his head.

God, had Cas remembered that?

Remembered all of it? His favorite fucking songs, favorite movies, favorite shows- Had Cas remembered everything?

It made him want to throw up, or maybe like his heart was squeezed so tight in his chest that he felt like he might die. Again, he guessed.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Dean stared at the room, hand coming to rest on the back of the couch. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his chest, it felt like his stomach was waves in the damn ocean.

He didn't know whether to cry or throw his guts up. It felt just like after Cas was taken by the Empty.

Like his world was shifting and crumbling all at once.

Dean stepped back a few steps and came up against the wall. His eyes burned.

He ran a hand through his hair, a little frantically, and tried to school the sob that climbed up his throat.

He's alive, he repeated to himself, Cas is fucking alive.

Some other voice chimed back, little and weak, But he's not here, is he?

He took in a deep breath, shaky, and leaned his head back up against the wall. Looking up at the ceiling, Dean thought maybe he felt tears roll down his cheeks.

He wanted to pray, bring him here. But what the hell would he even say?

"Hey buddy, confessing your love and fucking dying after wasn't very fun for me."

"What you did wasn't goddamn fair."

"I know you love me, but I don't understand it. I don't get it."

"How can you love me?"

"I think maybe I love you too."

His breath hitched in his chest.

He clenched his fist onto the wall, pounding it a few times. He heard the frames rattle in their places and felt the wood boards behind it under his hand.

Dean took a deep breath in and wiped at his eyes. Sniffling, he walked forward into the kitchen. Keep moving.

It was the cozy kind of kitchen, not the minimalist crap, with wooden cupboards and imperfect counters. The refrigerator had a few pictures stuck to it, held up by those damn alphabet magnets.

He just somehow knew that was Cas's idea.

And he laughed a little at it, taking one of them in his hands and rubbing his thumb over the shitty plastic.

His eyes smoothed over the space again, and he found something actually on the counter. He wasn't sure how he missed it the first time, but now, there was a slice of apple pie there. Probably the most picturesque one he'd ever seen. Heaven pie.

"Goddamn Heaven pie," he muttered, but he was smiling.

Before he could take a bite, of what he suspected might be the best pie in his life, he heard something.

A dog bark.

Dean nearly ran to the front door, leaving the pie stranded on the counter. Swinging the door open, he nearly stalled in place.

Miracle was there, yeah, and ran up to him a little like he was the only person in the world. It made his heart ache. But there was someone else.

"I've got a delivery," Charlie, his Charlie, smiled -grinned even.

"Charlie," he spoke, a little like it took everything in his chest to. She only smiled brighter.

Dean thought maybe he was crying, and he grabbed her in a hug. One that he thought may have been a little too tight but she didn't complain. She didn't say a word.

He put his chin on top of her head (just like he used to) and felt her hair (still short) under it. He used to do it to remember she was there, it felt like he was missing a fucking limb when he couldn't anymore. He never thought about the fact that maybe he could again one day.

It felt like everything in him was relieved, as if the tension had melted away. Somehow, someway, Charlie was exactly what he needed right now.

God, he hadn't even thought about her.

Well, he had. A lot. He thought about everybody he'd ever lost, that shit weights on your conscience. (Especially her.) But he'd never thought of her being up here, that he could see her again. Give her a goddamn hug-

He sniffled a little and dropped his mouth to kiss her on the forehead. She hugged him back just as tight, and he thought he might’ve heard her sniffle too.

Dean spoke before he could stop it, "I'm sorry."

"Dean, no," she pulled back, but didn't let go of his arms, "-you weren't- That wasn't your fault, you know that."

He was still crying, and maybe his voice was cracking, "I'm still sorry."

Charlie rubbed her hands down his arms for a minute, before changing the topic, "'Heard you took down God."

Dean laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, "Damn straight I did. Me, Sammy, and Jack."

"Would've loved to know him," she smiled -big and bright, "-but he's too busy for me now."

"Probably too busy to see me too," he offered, sniffling, "-if that helps you."

She shrugged, a little knowingly, "I think he'd make time if you asked."

He bit his lip a moment, thoughtfully, "Ya wanna come in?"

"Was waiting for that," she laughed, walking in -her eyes dipping over the walls, before waltzing into the Dean-cave, "-Look at your digs, Winchester! Not bad."

"It fit me?" He asked.

She turned to him then, grinning, "To a T."

He ran his tongue along his teeth, something heavy in his throat, "You know who made it?"

"I do," Charlie passively remarked, as Miracle ran up and jumped on the couch, "-We saw the house pop up a bit ago, not long, and we saw them out here, building it."

"Cas, yeah?" He asked like he didn't already know.

"Yup," she popped the 'p', running up to his shelves and seemingly skimming the titles, "-that and uh... Jack. But, mostly Cas."

She muttered something about 'shit, you have that one?', but Dean's mind was elsewhere.

"Do you," he started asking, swallowing kind of awkwardly, "-Do you see things on Earth? Like um... events, or conversations?"

"Only when we want to," she answered, still busy on the shelves (currently she was on her tippy-toes looking at the top one), "-I've been watching a few conventions over the years. Sometimes I peek in on you, or Sam, or Cas, for that matter. But I'm pretty content here."

Dean fell silent, fidgeting with his hands.

She turned to him, quirking a brow, "Why? Do you want to check in on Sam? It's pretty easy, actually-"

"Before," he started, and Charlie's lips snapped shut, "-Before the whole, uh, Chuck fight and Jack becoming... well, God. Cas died again."

"Shit," she spoke, "-how did he die?"

"Billie, ya know, Death, uh," he cleared as throat, and Charlie's eyes were on him (intently watching), "-she was after us. Me and Cas, and he... he sacrificed himself."

"Damn," she let out, "-have you seen him since Jack-"

"He didn't really... die," Dean kept going, maybe like he couldn't stop (he wanted to tell someone), "-There's this place where, uh, demons and angels go when they 'die'. From what I've heard, it's kinda like a void, an eternal sleep kinda deal."

Charlie pursed her lips a moment, maybe trying to decide if she should speak, "Yeah, I've heard rumors. Never been there of course, but um, yeah."

Dean bit his lip, and took a deep breath in.

"Dean," Charlie slowly stepped toward him, "-are you okay? Do you need to... sit down?"

"He made a deal," he continued, and maybe he wasn't looking at her but he really couldn't, "-Uh, the Empty, or the eternal sleep thing, um... would take him when he was the damn happiest he's ever been."

"And," she paused, laughing a little, "-how was he the happiest he's ever been when you were running from Death?"

Dean didn't say a word, and Charlie promptly cut her laughter short. The silence echoed a moment, and she stepped closer to him again (this was uncharted territory).

"Dean?"

He swallowed, his voice was a little scratchy now and his eyes burned, "He... He started this speech about- about me, and how good I was. That I wasn't just anger or... or hate like I thought. I was love, I raised Sammy for... for love, and do what I do, like stop the goddamn apocalypse, for love. That I was... the most selfless person he'd ever known-"

Charlie stayed quiet.

"-And he's lived millenniums," Dean laughed a little and it was wet (and maybe he was crying), "-I mean, how can that... how can that be true?"

"Dean," she leveled in a steady voice.

"And he just kept going," he laughed again, and he wiped at his eyes, "-and I couldn't say a goddamn word."

"Dean."

"And after all that," he felt a sob crawl up his throat, it shattered through his chest, "-after all that he told me he loved me. And just saying it, fucking telling me- That made him the happiest he's ever been."

Charlie's eyes were shiny, and she was looking at him a little like he would shatter at any second. But she didn't say a word.

"He said," he swallowed, his breaths shaky, "-He said that the one thing he wanted he couldn't have but I..."

He let himself say it, this once.

"Charlie, I-" he looked at her then, and she was frowning, her eyes were teary, "-I think he can have it. I think he-"

Dean took a breath, it shook through his lungs and laughed again -wiping at his eyes (like he wouldn't be crying if they didn't fall).

"-I think he's always damn had it."

There was silence then, and Dean didn't feel like he had anything else to say. Or maybe that he could say anything else. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his chest-

Charlie seemed to take a minute to make sure, tediously stepping forward.

But when she realized he was, she pulled him into a hug again. This time though, she stood on her tippy-toes and pulled his head to her shoulder. Her hand cradling the back of his head, Dean followed her lead.

He took a breath in, that was just so Charlie, his Charlie, and it made his eyes fog up again.

She held him there a while, even though it couldn't have been comfortable. He knew that, but he couldn't be the one to pull away. Halfway because it was so long since he'd seen her, and halfway because he couldn't remember the last time he was held like this. Cared for like this.

"Did you," she started, slow and careful (gentle), "-Have you told anyone about this?"

"No, I... I died with it," he breathed out, "-I just... I couldn't tell Sammy-"

"Dean, hey," Charlie shooshed him, before joking lightly, "-that's okay. It just... It seemed like it was a little pent up."

Dean laughed a little, and she seemed to be happy about that.

"It was," he echoed out in the silence, "-I didn't... I didn't tell anyone."

"Well," she hummed, pushing her chin onto his shoulder, "-thank you for telling me."

Something in his chest softened.

"I think that's..." she spoke, gently, "-I think that's big for you. All of this is... is big for you."

There was a beat.

"You're doing your best, Dean," she soothed, squeezing him a little tighter, "-And maybe you didn't tell Sam, or tell Cas, but you did what you could. Everyone has their limits."

He let out a breath, less shaky this time, and dug himself further into her shoulder.

"That's nothing-" her hand rubbed against his back, "-That's nothing to be ashamed of."

He let the words sink into his skin.

"And quite frankly," Charlie quipped, "-your limit is way past mine. So, I can't judge."

Dean laughed again, and he could nearly feel her smile.

Thoughtfully keeping himself there for just a little longer, before pulling back. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes, Charlie stayed very close by, just in place for another hug.

"We good?" She questioned, a little playfully but on the same note, very serious.

"Yeah, yeah, we're uh-" he chuckled out, "-we're good."

"Can I..." she paused a moment, "-If you're not comfortable, don't answer it. But, is this your first... guy thing?"

Dean froze a little.

"You don't have to answer," she quickly added, "-at all. No pressure."

It's Charlie.

He ran his hand along his jaw, before rumbling out, "Kinda. I... When I was a kid, I knew, and maybe I even acted on it a little, but Dad..."

Charlie hummed in understanding, "He found out?"

"Yeah, uh," he spoke, suddenly awkward, "-I don't... I've never known how he figured it out. Or maybe he just... assumed, but he... yeah."

It was unspoken, and she seemed to understand.

"God," she asserted, maybe a little incredulously, "-he should really not be here."

Dean laughed a little, but something was heavy in his chest, "I don't know if I'd visit either of them anyway. Even without... this."

Charlie pursed her lips, "And you don't have to. It's your Heaven. If they... If they try to talk to you, let me know. I'll get a crew."

"A crew?"

"There's enough of us," she shrugged, "-He's an old man anyway, I'm sure I could take him."

He laughed a little again, "You'd be surprised."

She looked at him a moment like maybe that spoke louder than anything else he said. She squeezed his shoulder once, but gratefully, didn't say anything.

"And can I clarify something?"

Dean hummed.

"When Castiel..." she didn't say it, "-Did you not have time? Or were you just... scared?"

"A little bit of both," he answered, fingers tapping along the table by the couch, "-He said it, told me goodbye, and... and adios."

"But you wouldn't have told him? If you got the chance?" She asked, genuinely.

"I don't..." he sighed out, "-I don't know. I think, in the moment, I was just overwhelmed by it all. In-between how he talked about me, and how he... I barely processed a word before he was gone."

Charlie just looked at him.

"I sat there for a while before it-" he moved over to Miracle, petting him, "-it, uh, kicked in."

"And you-" she responded, a little slowly, "-you haven't seen him since then?"

"Well, I... I just got here," he explained, picking up Miracle's ear between his fingers, "-and I didn't even know he'd gotten out. Until... Until Bobby told me."

"Huh," she commented, sitting beside Miracle, "-Do you think he'd come? If you asked?"

Dean rolled the thought around in his mind, "I don't know, he kinda wanted me to live a lot longer than I did."

"How did you die?"

"On a hunt," he answered, simply.

"Shit," she muttered, "-What took you out?"

"Piece of rebar," he offered, wandering back around toward the shelf, "-Monster of the week threw me against a wall, right into it."

"That's..."

"Sammy was gonna call an ambulance, but I..." he echoed out, "-I told him no. I think- I think I wanted to die."

Charlie didn't speak for a moment, processing it, "Because of... Cas?"

"Yeah, mostly," Dean admitted, "-I, uh, realized it all when I got here. Drove Baby for a while and just... Just started thinking."

"About everything?"

"Yeah, uh," he hummed out, brushing his hand over Miracle's fur, "-everything. I wasn't happy there. Wasn't living the life I wanted, and I don't think I could have. Not without Cas."

She paused a second, "Do you think you'll be happy here?"

"It's Heaven," he laughed, not really looking at her, "-I kinda have to be, right?"

"Well," she countered, speaking a little carefully, "-Dean, you still don't have Cas."

Dean's hand froze in place.

"If you weren't happy without him then," she continued, thoughtfully, "-how are you going to be happy without him now?"

"He was dead," he spoke -defensively, "-He's alive now. I can... I can live with that."

"Dean," Charlie reiterated, low and gentle, "-will you be happy?"

"I've handled worse," he argued, but something in his chest was twisting.

She looked at him then, eyes steady on his, "But you don't have to."

He swallowed, repeating, "But I can."

She stood up then, coming right in front of him, and Dean nearly shrunk in place.

"Dean, he... he loves you," Charlie spoke, barely a whisper, "-and I think, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you love him too."

He gnawed at his lip, "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"It's... everything, Dean," she laughed, a little in disbelief, "-It's got to do with everything. You deserve to be happy."

He took a deep breath through his nose.

"Isn't that what Castiel wanted?" she pointed out, "-For you to be happy?"

"Apparently not," he retorted, a little bitterly, "-how could I be happy when he's dead?"

"Maybe-" Charlie paused, cogs turning in her head, "-You said that he had to be the happiest he's ever been right?"

"Yeah," he replied, trying to follow.

"How could he be the happiest he's ever been if he knew he was causing you pain?"

Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting, "You think..."

"Dean, look I could be wrong," she clarified, "-but I don't think he thought you'd care. If... If he was the happiest he's ever been, and he loved you, he would never be able to cause you pain, or think he would, and still get taken."

He was speechless, something climbing up his throat.

"If he thought you weren't going to be happy," she finished like she'd had a major breakthrough, "-he... he couldn't have been taken."

"He..." Dean faltered to a stop, "-You really think he thought I wouldn't care?"

Charlie pursed her lips together, "I don't know how else it could've worked."

Dean felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was burning alive. Cas didn't know he cared? How the hell didn't he know that?

God, he cared so damn much, and he didn't even know?

He tried to think back to every time he'd lost Cas, all the grief. Dean realized he'd never seen that, he didn't see everytime he lost his goddamn mind because he was gone. For all he knew, everything was hunky-fucking-dory. He's just always thought he knew.

God, he didn't know?

She approached him then, holding his arms, "Dean, I know it's scary, believe me, I know-"

He just looked at her, words stuck in his throat. It felt like he could say everything and nothing at all. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

"But he deserves to know," she finished.

Dean took a second, before saying, "Yeah, yeah, he does."

Charlie smiled at him, patting his arms, "You should talk to him, like... as soon as possible."

"Through what? Prayer?"

"Well, yeah," she laughed a little as if it was obvious.

"How do I know..." he exhaled, "-How do I know he'll come?"

"Dean," she assured, "-he loves you."

"Yeah, but what if he's-" he paused, "-what if he's avoiding me?"

"Dean," she repeated, "-he loves you."

"How does that-"

"That doesn't just stop," she interrupted him, "-It's not like if he gets uncomfortable, he'll just stop loving you. It's bigger than everything, if you ask him to, he'll come."

"But-" he tried.

"I know it," she continued, "-and when have I ever been wrong?"

Dean laughed a little.

"Actually, don't answer that," she laughed, "-Just, just trust me. He built this whole Heaven for you, didn't he?"

He responded, simply, "He did."

"He'll come," she repeated, "-You just have to ask, Winchester."

She'd left not long after that, with one solid hug (he didn't think he'd every stop hugging her, ever) and a promise to "tell me all the deets, including the juicy stuff".

Dean wasn't sure how to handle that.

He didn't do it immediately. He sat down and ate the pie first, which was the friggin' best one he'd ever had (he wondered if it always tasted like that up here). Then, he spent the next few hours going through his collection. He even popped in a cassette from Baby, had a few in-home concerts, and just sat with Miracle for a while (Dean thought that he might've known he wasn't doing something he was supposed to, he had a serious bitch face). And then it was night.

So, he went to bed.

He'll be honest, it happened a few times. Days happened (if that was a thing in Heaven).

It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He did, just every time he tried... He was just a damn coward. Kept saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." And it had very much already been tomorrow. A few of them, actually.

Part of him was kinda waiting to see if he'd just... show up like he used to. But, if he'd confessed his, what he believed to be, unrequited love to his best friend... he'd probably avoid him at all costs too. (He kinda already was.)

Today, though, was different.

Dean woke up, got his coffee, and instead of sitting down at the table and staring out the window (usually watching Miracle run around the yard), he went to the hallway. Couldn't tell you why, if you asked. But he just did.

And he stopped at the same picture, the one of him and Cas laughing. His eyes roamed over the crinkled smile, maybe a little differently now. An ache settled in his chest, like maybe he was missing a limb. Every morning he woke up, something was missing.

And sure, yeah, part of that was Sammy. But the other part...

His eyes smoothed over him again, and he just had the overwhelming urge for him to be there. And the thought ran through his mind again that he didn't know that he mattered. Cas was just living (relatively) with the knowledge that Dean didn't care, as if it was the truth.

With a breath, he decided today was the day.

He had given himself time, gotten dressed, sat out on the front porch (it was raining today, he found it kinda calming), and just readying himself.

Now, he was pacing in the kitchen.

"Cas, buddy," he tried like he was running through lines, "-No. Why would I call him buddy? That defeats the whole goddamn purpose."

He sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers, before trying again.

"Cas," he started, trying to think, "-that day. You knew I- Well, you thought you knew I-"

He dragged his palm down his face, groaning. How the hell was he going to do this?

"Fuck it," he decided, he was never going to get it right, "-let's wing it."

Dean let out a big long breath, shaking his hands as if to ready himself. And he really needed to do so.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

"You can do this, Winchester," he mumbled to himself, "-You killed God, what's a damn love confession?"

Love, love, love, chimed through his head.

His stomach churned, but he stayed focused -eyes squeezed shut. Taking a few deep breaths, he stayed silent for a while. Maybe thinking a little too hard in his head, but at this point, there was no use in fighting it.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

Dean let out a shaky breath, and opened his mouth -words slow and particular, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're busy-"

Before he could finish another word, a voice called out from behind him.

"Dean," his voice was measured with a sort of lilt (maybe concern).

"Goddammit, Cas," he jumped, flinching, but turning to the angel on instinct, "-you gotta stop doing that."

He skimmed over him a second like he couldn't believe he was real. But he was, and he was standing right in front of him. Before he could say another word though, Cas started searching over him -quickly.

He lifted his arm (grabbing him by the wrist, Dean's brain froze a little), looking for an injury maybe, "Are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"What? Yeah," he blinked the haze out of his eyes, "-yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I'm in Heaven, what could hurt me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in the way he always did and seemed to take him in a second. Blue eyes looked him over, maybe trying to tell if he was lying or not. (He probably could, if he was.) The way that he looked at him so intently always made him want to squirm, or run away, or make some odd comment.

It was a little relieving to see it now though.

"It's good to see you," Dean spoke without thinking about it. It was the first thing he thought of.

And it was, Cas being here felt like that missing piece was back in place. Perfectly slotted. It was kinda clouding his judgment.

Cas did the head tilt thing that he always did (and Dean let himself think for the first time that it was cute), eyebrows furrowing together. Even if Dean didn't know him well enough, he would've known he was confused.

"It's good to see you too, Dean," he finally spoke, cautiously but still so damn genuine, "-Although, I do wish we met in different circumstances."

Dean laughed a little, and the silence felt like he was being swallowed whole. But he just couldn't open his mouth.

"Dean?" He still said it exactly the same as he did the first day he met him. It made his head spin a little.

He looked at him, wordlessly.

"Why am I... here?"

Dean pushed his lips together, kind of deflecting, "When did you get out?"

Cas looked at him, maybe a little guiltily but still very sound, "Jack got me out... as soon as he had the power to."

"So, what-" he stated, trying to clarify, "-uh, right after Chuck was taken care of? When he snapped everybody back into existence?"

"Yes," Cas answered, "-After he left the two of you, he spoke to the Empty and got me out. It apparently wasn't easy, but..."

Dean but at his lip a little, looking to the ground a second, "So... So, all those weeks I was on Earth, you were out? Alive?"

Cas was just staring at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean saw something shift through his eyes that couldn't really understand.

"And you-" he continued, now a little frustrated, "-you what, you didn't think to at least tell me that?"

"Dean-"

"No, no," he interrupted, "-I thought you were dead, Cas. Gone. And you just didn't want to tell me?"

"That's not," he let out a big long sigh, "-That's not the case, Dean."

"Sure as hell looks like it," he scoffed, and maybe he was frustrated but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Not anymore.

"I thought," Cas cleared his throat, maybe a little awkwardly, "-I thought you wouldn't want to see me."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Dean asked, incredulously.

"The last..." he echoed out, like he didn't want to say the wrong thing, "-The last meeting we had wasn't preferable to you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

He rolled around the thought in his head a second, and all he got was resounding defiance, but he couldn't quite say that yet. His head just kept pounding.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Did you-" he started again, searching for answers, "-After the Empty, did you think I was happy?"

Cas looked at him a second, before swinging his eyes to his sleeve almost instinctively (where the bloody handprint would've been), "Not happy necessarily."

"But your damn deal, or whatever," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "-you had to be happy. Completely happy."

"Yes," he answered, inquisitively, "-What is this about, Dean?"

"Cas," he responded, his voice a little shaky (he could see his eyes hitch on it), "-did you think I would care? That I wouldn’t give a damn if you died?"

He pressed his lips together and didn't say a word. Dean thought it was the most telling thing in the world.

His lungs felt like they were tied with rope -he couldn't get a good breath in. Like he was suffocating-

"Really?"

"You looked-" Cas tried to defend himself, "-You looked happy, Dean."

"Yeah," he explained, as if it was obvious, "-because you wanted me to be. And I was trying. For you."

He didn't respond.

"Because what good was a damn sacrifice if I didn't try?"

Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it looked like he was trying, maybe even trying to understand what Dean was expressing. Like he couldn't see it, or didn't believe it.

God, he really doesn't know how much I care?

He posed another question, wringing his hands, "Do you know how I died, Cas?"

"Of course I do, Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"I've had a lot of time to do some thinking," Dean continued, walking a little in place, "-and I think... No, I know that I did it on purpose."

"Don't say that," Cas spoke, voice heavy with something.

"Sammy wanted to call an ambulance," he continued, looking down at his hands and still walking, "-and I didn't let him."

"And you think-" something smoothed over in his eyes, "-you think you could've survived?"

"Maybe," he offered, "-I guess I don't know, but I... Cas, I didn't try. I didn't fight it. I spent my whole life fighting it, and when it mattered most, I didn't damn fight it."

Cas's face fell a little, some sort of understanding in his eyes, agreement even. It rattled through Dean's bones, and made it a little hard to stand a moment.

"I never thought that I could leave Sammy alone," he continued, and one of his hands racked through his hair, "-I was scared shitless to. But it was so easy to just give up. I wasn't... I wasn't living, Cas. Despite whatever you think in that angel head of yours, I was not damn happy."

Cas just looked at him, eyes flicking between his, trying to understand. He took a second, before replying, "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never want to cause you so much pain."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt for a second that maybe it would burst through his ribcage like it did in cartoons. It felt damn powerful enough.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the urge for to say it. It was on the very tip of his tongue.

"I know, Cas," he deflected (something in his chests stung, coward), "-I know."

Cas just looked at him then, scanning over his face. He could tell there was something else, he looked right into his damn soul every time he looked at him, and there was something else. Dean waited a second, to see if he'd say anything, but he was hit with a resounding no.

Maybe he thought he'd already said enough. Too much maybe. Dean didn't know if he agreed with him or not.

"Cas, I-" he spoke, maybe a little quietly, "-I can't be happy without you. You gotta know that."

He was looking at him more intensely now, still trying to understand it all. Like maybe he couldn't imagine what Dean was trying to say. Or maybe like he couldn't even fathom it.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"I know you didn't-" he cleared his throat, eyes flickering away (he couldn't look at him right now), "-I know you didn't see me. When you, uh, died, any of the times. But I- I gotta tell ya, I was far from happy."

Cas didn't interrupt him, he just kept looking. Staring. Like every word he said was important.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

He just kept talking, at this point he could stop (his eyes burned), "I kept your goddamn trenchcoat in Baby the whole time you were..."

He thought maybe for a second he was working himself up, but he couldn't stop now.

"And when Lucifer stabbed you," he pressed his lips together, and swallowed, "-I gave you a hunter's funeral and... and watched your body burn up into flames."

"Dean," Cas spoke, he could maybe see the edge he was teetering on. Maybe he could see that he was going to cry, and that was new. Maybe he was trying to soothe-

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"And then, when the Empty got you," Dean's voice shook a little, "-I stayed there, for a... a while and cried, probably the most I ever have in my life-"

Cas flinched, maybe a little guiltily, "Dean."

"-I couldn't even answer Sam's damn phone call."

He was holding out his hands now, a little like how cops did, in those shows, when the perpetrator had a weapon or was threatening his own life. Cautious, careful. A little like he'd explode. Voice careful and measured, "Dean, I didn't know-"

"I know that, Cas," he interrupted, maybe a little defensively but he couldn't help it, "-I've been beating myself up about it since I realized that I never made it goddamn clear to you that I cared."

"Don't," Cas replied, a little pained, "-There's no need for that, Dean."

"For what? The fact that I didn't- That you didn't-" his words stuttered in his chest, and he just couldn't speak.

"I know now," he tried to soothe, and Dean's head was pounding, "-I know now that you... care. I know."

Care, care, care.

Love, love, love.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

It felt like his heart was in his throat, like everything was waiting to be said. Like it was right there, and he was so close.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Dean?"

All he could hear was his heartbeat in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

God, he didn't want him to leave.

This house was his too, he could just feel it in the walls. There was something missing, there was always something missing. Even when he was alive-

"Dean?"

How long had he wanted this? Wanted more?

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Dean, are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean," his hands were on his shoulders now (just like before-), "-can you hear me?"

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

"Dean!"

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Shit, Cas, you can have it!"

Cas looked startled for a moment, but he didn't step away, he didn't let go. Dean's stomach twisted. "What are you-"

"Back, back before the Empty... you said-"

Cas just stared at him, it made Dean want to stop but he couldn't stop-

"-you said, 'The one thing I want, I know I can't have'-"

He just kept talking, and Cas kept staring -something shining in his eyes. Dean thought he knew what.

"-and I'm pretty damn sure that thing was me-"

Cas was looking at him the way he always did, and Dean recognized it for what it was now.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"-You can have it, Cas," he was speaking softer now, a little out of breath, "-You've... You've always had it. Had... Had me."

Cas was just staring a little in disbelief, dropping his hands, and stepping back a little (it made Dean's heart sting).

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"You don't-" he shook his head, not quite looking at him, "-You don't know what you're saying."

"I'm pretty damn sure I do," he responded, a little biting but there was just so much. It couldn't come out any other way.

Cas stared at him like he was trying to find the confusion, the lie, but he was coming up empty-handed. Wonder why the fuck that is.

"Goddammit, Cas," he pushed his palms into his eyes, "-are you gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious. Like he couldn't fathom it. It made Dean's hands shake, and his throat clog up.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Damn it, I love you too!"

The silence that filled the room was suffocating, but Dean just needed to breathe-

"And I can't be happy without you," he spoke, eyes still behind his hands (he couldn't look), "-and I want you to goddamn stay for once."

There was another beat.

"With me," and he thought he may have sounded a little pathetic, but he was very much past that point already.

And there was no one here who would ever judge him. Cas would never judge him and he knew that. He knew that like he knew that the sun rises in the morning and falls at night. Cas would never.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt hands pulling back his own -calloused fingertips against his own. Dean's breath hitched in his chest.

He loves me? He loves me? He loves me?

Cas was close now, and before he fully let go, he kept his hands on his face -cradling. And at first Dean thought he might kiss him (which he wasn't sure how to feel about), but he just kept them there.

He was looking at him like he always does (with love) and holding him a little like he was precious maybe, to him. Dean still couldn't understand that, but he thought one day he might be able to. That Cas might help him to.

"Okay, Dean," he spoke, gentle after a long sort of silence, "-I'll stay."

I love him.

He loves me.

#supernatural #castiel #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #spn #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #watchoutwriting #spn finale fix-it #the apple pie life for me (and you)

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winchester-girl67 · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine… Stealing Candles For Dean’s Birthday Pie

Pairing: Dean x Sister!reader (platonic)

Square: Impala @supernatural-jackles

Word Count: 895

Warnings: theft, implied arrest, a little angst, Dean being adorkable, fluff!

A/N: Happy Birthday, Dean! This is just random fluff. Also written for @supernatural-jackles’ Tell Me a Story bingo. Enjoy!

_____

"I don't wanna talk about it, Dean." You mumbled as you joined him in the Impala.

You could feel your big brother's eyes boring into you and you huffed out a breath as you buckled up your seat belt. Getting picked up from the police station for shoplifting and having to call Dean to bail you out was the complete opposite of what you were planning for tonight.

It was supposed to be a surprise and a nice one.

Dean started the engine so the heat blasted in your face and you could hear the lego pieces, that the three of you shoved through the vents when you were younger, rattling in the wind that warmed your cheeks. There was snow falling heavily on the windshield and the thick silence was cut by the wipers sliding over the glass every few seconds. While you just sat there, in the parking lot, until Dean was calm enough to speak.

"Dammit, Y/N," he growled and hit the steering wheel with an open palm, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

You shrugged and sniffled from the brief walk to the car in the cold. The snowflakes in your hair melted and wet the strands so some straggly hairs stuck to your cheeks.

It was Dean’s birthday and Sam was counting on you to get the candles for the pie he was attempting to make in the motel microwave.

You hung your head and gripped the excess jean material on your thighs, the jeans didn’t fit well, they were Dean’s hand-me-downs. You often got his clothes before Sam since girls matured and grew faster than boys. Then your jeans went to Sam when you grew out of them so you couldn’t cut them to length and instead rolled up each leg so that a heavy cuff sat on top of each boot. Snow always got into the top of the cuff this time of year and soaked through the layers, especially when the heat in the car started to melt it. The tips of your fingers grew numb with the longer and tighter you held the fabric between them.

If only your father let you run a credit card scam of your own, except he said there was no point because Dean had one and anything you needed you could ask him for. And you were underage so you'd need a fake ID too and the only one of those you had were school IDs. Nobody would believe you were over eighteen anyways. You just turned thirteen, only a year older than little Sammy, and you looked it.

"It's your birthday," you muttered and side-eyed your brother. "I couldn't afford the stupid candles."

His expression softened, "You could've asked me. That’s what I’m here for.”

You shrugged, "Would've ruined the surprise."

"Y/N, do you really think I had no idea what you and Sam have been planning for the past week? Subtly is not your strong suit, kiddo.” He chuckled.

"I'm sorry." You shrugged and kicked your boots together, trying to knock off the snow that hadn’t melted into your pant cuffs yet.

"It's okay,” Dean said and reached over to tousle up your hair.

You whined and shoved away his arm. Dean laughed at the frown you wore as you fixed your hair.

“Are you gonna tell dad?” You asked, nervously gripping your jeans again and chewing on your bottom lip.

You’d seen the amount of trouble Dean had gotten into with John growing up and you didn’t want any of it. You didn’t have the strength Dean had when it came to standing up to him. Except Dean never talked back, he just took all of his soldier up crap and kept going. You didn’t know how he did it.

He was different when your father was gone, he was lighter and way more fun. He’d joke around and let you get away with almost anything so long as you flashed him a smile. All Dean ever wanted was for you and Sammy to be happy and when you were, so was he.

“Hmmm,” he pretended to think about it as he made you sweat, “Nah, it can be our little secret.” You matched his smirk. “But the next time you kick off your boots in my car, you get last dibs on the shower for a week.”

“Ew, gross!” You scrunched up your face and pouted. Your brothers always made a mess of the motel bathroom with wet towels thrown everywhere, toothpaste and hair in the sink, not to mention the misadventures of aiming at the toilet. How hard was it really?! Not to mention the amount of times you’d fallen in because they couldn’t grasp the concept of putting the seat back down. “But-“

Dean cut you off talking to the Impala and patting the dash, “Sh-sh… It’s okay, Baby, she didn’t mean it.”

“Are you done, dork?” You tried to hide your amusement and raised your eyebrows at him.

He snorted and nodded as he shifted the car into drive, “Mhm.”

“Happy Birthday, Dean.” You said, unbuckling your seat belt and sliding across the bench seat to give him a hug when he stopped at the light. “…You know, I love you. Right?”

“I know,” Dean sighed into your hair and hugged you back even as the light turned green. “Love you, too, kiddo.”

_________________________ Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15

#tell me a story bingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x sister!reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #spn imagine #dean imagine #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural reader insert #dean x #supernatural fanfiction

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ilikebigants · 1 year ago

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Hi, I need someone else’s opinion on Leo’s ending in BoO cause personally I hate it. Like Leo’s entire reasoning for why he would die out of the seven was that he was the least valuable member and like. He’s right? Cause he does die, so his assumption was correct! And also him believing that no one would be near him/ capable of (willing to) save him is why he gave the vial to feastus instead. I know it’s meant to be like Leo defies fate and everything but it’s got to be so shattering to have your extremely low self esteem essentially be given a thumbs up by the universe.

I hate it as well, for a multitude of reasons. Let's start with the obvious: Unbelievably low self esteem.

His entire life, he's been a victim in one way or another. He was called a diabolo by his relatives for simply being born different, and his entire life he'd been going from orphanage to orphanage, being abused and bullied the whole way through. There's a high chance he's also been homeless for extended periods of time, which can give you so many different mental issues, one of the most common being a feeling that you don't exist due to how people ignored you in your time of need.

And then, Piper and Jason happen. He finally has friends!... except he doesn't. They treat him awfully, half the time wishing he wasn't there or insulting him in their minds. And as stupid as the fandom portrays him to be, he IS smart and perceptive. He definitely notices but won't bring it up because he knows what might happen if he does: they might leave him again. He'll be alone again.

People who haven't experienced long-term involuntary isolation don't understand what that does to someone. He was terrified, I can be sure of that.

How do you think he felt when he realised the friendship he had was just a product of the mist? Fearful? Helpless? He definitely wasn't happy, and I'm almost certain his heart sank at the realisation he was alone once more. The one time he wasn't only being a lie.

And then Frank and Hazel happened.

People seem to forget that Frank was an antagonising asshole WAYYYY before Leo ever insulted him or made fun of him. Why? Because Hazel treated him nicely, and Leo didn't treat her like shit. It's ridiculous. "He was trying to steal hazel1!1!" No, he wasn't. BFFR. He spoke so many times about how he'd never do that out of respect for someone else's relationship.

The reality of the situation is that he was once again isolated. He can't be friends with Frank or Hazel due to Frank's jealousy issues. Voila, he's once more alone. The 7th wheel.

Not to mention the underlying thought that Hazel only likes him because he reminds her of Sammy.

And THEN there's Percy Jackson. The saviour of olympus. Boy wander and popular as all hell. And Percy doesn't like him. Remember that? It's explicitly said that Percy didn't like Leo. Bam. There goes his last chance to make any friends. If Percy doesn't like you, then Annabeth doesn't like you. Yeah, Annabeth and Leo have been mentioned to talk about engineering with each other, but it isn't even implied that they're in any way close or talk outside of projects for the argo 2.

Why SHOULDN'T he have low self-esteem? Nothing and no one have shown him he's anything more than a tool. A thing to fix stuff around the ship. And this isn't even with me mentioning the guilt he feels for firing on New Rome, or his guilt for throwing Annabeth and Perry into Tartarus, or the MILLION of other things that have made him believe he was expendable!

His one "friend," Festus, is torn into fucking pieces!

So really, no fucking wonder he clings to the idea of a girlfriend so fucking tightly. The prospect of someone who won't leave? Who'll like him? Who'll LOVE him?! Of COURSE he wants that! And that explains why he's so eager to get back to Calypso!

I'll say it, I believe that the only reason he went back was because he thought that he and her had 1 thing in common, and that was loneliness. I genuinely believe he saw how toxic the whole thing was and didn't care because she was just as alone as he was. It's codependency in its purest form. They fought at the start, they fought in the middle, and at the end, the last scene we ever see of them together is them STILL FIGHTING. Say whatever you want about the age gap, even if it wasn't there this STILL would have been a bad relationship for both of them!

But back to the original point. Leo sacrificing himself. Personally, I think that he did it not out of a feeling of inferiority, but because he was suicidal. Straight up. And as a last ditch effort to prove to himself that the others cared.

And he was proven wrong, as they didn't care.

He was right at the end of the day. No one cared for him.

The entire story feels like a giant "fuck you" to Leo. His happy ending being losing Jason and being unhappily married to Calypso.

And on a meta level we have how the fandom treats him, basically being ignored in fan content unless they need a Comic relief.

People talk all the time about how hard the others got it in life, and I agree, but they had 1 thing that helped them make it through: a support network. Leo had it the hardest out of all of them, for the single reason that he didn't have that.

Not only was his suicide basically applauded and rewarded, but his gift for saving everyone was to be miserable for the rest of time.

We never did find out what happened to the 7 after the Trials of Apollo, but in my mind, Leo Valdez only ever talks again to Nico D'angelo. Why? Because after years with Calypso, he stops pretending, and with a gun in his right arm, he's dead.

#pjo hcs #pjo #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #leo valdez #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #character analysis #hazel levesque #frank zhang #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #calypso #piper mclean

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nescaveckwriter · 1 year ago

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Paintbrushes and Romance

Part One 🥰

Dean x reader

A/N: this is my first ever written piece on here, so let me know what y'all think, much love my little twinkies💞

Warnings: Talking of killing, swearing, police case, not sure what else.

,..............

The smell of freshly grounded coffee beans fills the cozy little coffee shop. There's about six or seven tables in the middle, but you always choose the little corner seat, mostly everyday you sit there, watching people, listening conversations, finding inspiration.

No one except the waitress ever notices you, though that's the way you like it, sitting there admiring the way autumn takes over the leaves, its always been your favourite season ever since you were that little girl, running around, playing with the leaves, your parents would get so mad at you, for messing up the garden, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your thoughts get inturupted by the waitress, need a fill up? Ah! Yes please Julie, I'd appreciate that, not getting much work done today, saying with a smile. Sure, Julie said, you'll get there, one day I'll know what you do for a living I guess... You laugh a little, yeah one day.

It's not that your in the secret service or something, its just, you are a very private person, despite the fact that you're a social media influencer, and an author of three best selling books. You're actually busy working on a new book right now, but its going slow, you need inspiration of the male character, but just can't seem to find one, hell you can't even think of one, and since its one of those spicy romance books, you can't exactly base the character loosely on your brother, that'll be damn weird. Deep in thought, you hear the bell of the door, chime, welcoming a new customer. You look up from your laptop and see its two men , one man looks like a freaking giant, brownish hair, kinda messy looking, hanging over his ears, the other one a bit shorter but still tall, with his dark blondish hair, neatly spiking in the air, with a little stubble beard enhancing the already amazing, sharp jaw line, pink rose plump lips forming a smile when he excitedly said, with a kinda gruffy voice, look Sammy, they've got pecan pie. Yeah okay! Let's take a seat, and try to behave said the taller one.

You can't help it, you are drawn too him, like a moth to a flame, you quickly look in your flower tote bag, grabbing your sketch book and favourite pencil, and with out waisting anymore time , you pick up the pencil and start sketching the outline, of his nearly perfect face, getting swept away in the aroma of the coffee, the outline of his face, the way his savouring every single bite of the pie, you just have to sketch this man, maybe you can loosely base your books character on him, damn he sure is good-looking you think sketching away.

.............

Damn Sammy, this pie is just what I needed, Dean said. How is it possible that we never came to this coffee shop, Dean said, looking over at Sam eating his salad, dude he said, live a little, try some pie! I'm fine, thanks man, you know I prefer healthy choices Sam said with a not amused look on his face. Yeah well, whatever, I prefer living a little, we can die at anytime with our line of work Dean said.

Dean can hear a sort of muddled sound of his brother's telling him something, but can't really focus, in the corner, is a woman sitting with black jeans and a black top with a long mustard yellow jersey, with flat shoes matching the black, the light coming through, shining on one side, making her appear like an angel, with a messy hair bun and loose pieces of hair framing hair face, she's wearing glasses with a purplish frame, complimenting her pale, white skin, she's biting her lip, while focussing on something, not quite sure what it is. She is medium built, definitely not the type of women he goes for with their sleek long legs and high heels, but damn she was beautiful, a kind of beautiful Dean had rarely seen!

Dean! Hey! Dude! Snap out of it, Sam said while hitting Dean on the shoulder! What! Is your problem Sam, Dean said frustration clearly in his voice. What the hell man, I've been talking for the past few minutes, and then I just lost you. Bite me, Dean said. Clearly confused Sam taking a bite of his salad, you okay Dean, is it this case that has you all worked up? Yeah maybe! We need to get this guy before he kills anyone else, Dean said frown visible taking another bite of pie, keeping an eye on you in the distance, thinking you take his breath away without even saying a single word...

#winchester brothers #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #bobby singer #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #Spotify

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

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bound for n.y.c - g. van fleet

a/n: hi everybody! i’m back with a cool 3.6k fic about the one, the only, greta van fleet! i am seeing them at msg next week and am so excited that i just wanted to write a quick fic. please note that there’s no set ship and that it’s sort of implied that reader is in love with all members of the band and all the band members are into reader and NOT EACHOTHER. except maybe sammy and danny. let me know if y’all want anymore of these types of fic, idk maybe it’ll flop. also this is kind of fast paced and i am very sorry for that warnings: kissing, physical touch, mentions of anxiety and stress, complicated love triangles, food mentions, reader has a stepdad and a good relationship with their mom, reader being from ny, i think reader is fully gender neutral with maybe a few feminine traits but no real descriptors. also reader has tattoos and mentions of a dog that is no longer with us! no use of y/n, one mention of drugs, a bunch of references to sex, and cursing :0 word count: 3.6k summary: as tour manager, it's your job to get the boys to new york city, your home town. just don't fall in love with them, or anything. now playing: runway blues – greta van fleet

Being tour manager for America’s favorite Led Zeplin cover band, or at least, that’s what your judgmental bitch of a landlord called them once, was surprisingly difficult.

You were constantly running around after the four of them, feeling often more like a nanny than a tour manager. Especially at first. You had started meeting with them a few weeks before their World Starcatcher tour had begun, where you wore these professional, stuffy outfits. They had been referred to you by their makeup artist, who you had known from when you were an assistant to the tour manager of Phoebe Bridgers’ 2022 reunion tour.

You had been working for a producer when you got the call. Truthfully, you missed touring. It was a great way to see different parts of the country and the world, and you thrived in the chaotic environment. And you had heard of Greta Van Fleet, mostly from your grandfather, who was a huge classic rock fan, and always exploring new music via his iPad.

But you started out rather cooperating with them, wearing these stuffy outfits—Mostly long button ups and pencil skirts, while the boys showed up in comfortable casual clothes, always joking about you having to loosen up a bit.

And one notoriously hot day in early July, you showed up in shorts and a muscle tee to meet with them to go over the final dates of the tour before you all gave your go ahead to the social media manager.

You didn’t do much talking about the tour that meeting, opting instead to answer questions about your tattoos, your taste in music, your life to this point. And in exchange, they gave you pieces of themselves.

“I’m from New York,” You had answered over some late afternoon drinks. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, So I’m excited to see my family when we’re there.”

Josh’s fingers traced your upper arm, over a tattoo of your long-gone dog. “Will we get to meet this little guy?” He asks.

You only chuckled, “No, this one died while I was in college. Best dog I ever had.” You said solemnly.

And that was it. One comment about your dog and the boys were hooked on you forever. And when the tour started, you only grew closer— Sharing with them parts of your childhood, Jake teaching you the very basics of guitar, Josh taking shots with you before shows, Danny bringing you coffee to cope with those shots the next morning, and Sam holding your hand when he’s anxious, or when you’re anxious—or both.

So, by the time you make it to the boys’ first show at the Garden, you’ve developed a routine.

The bus leaves by seven a.m. from the hotel in D.C. to get to New York by nine, nine-thirty-ish. You’re craving a sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel from your favorite deli near where your mom lives, about an hour outside of the city.

So, you wake Jake up first, as he takes the longest to really wake up, and you’re sure you’ll have to shake him awake at least twice before he really gets up for the day. Then, you go to make sure Josh is up, and hear his shower going by the time you get to it. Good.

Then, you head to Sam, who is snoring away with Rosie. You almost don’t have the heart to wake him up. Almost. But Rosie senses your presence and stands up in bed, starting to lick his face. He groans, mumbling a soft, “I’m up, Rose, I know.” You feel good when you head over to Danny.

But thankfully, he’s already up. He’s in bed, writing in his notebook when you get there, sipping his coffee and all packed up for the road. His hair is tied up in a bun, and you’re entirely grateful that he’s so good at this whole thing.

Usually, you don’t need to wake each of them up, but every few shows, the five of you, as well as other crew members, indulge in the after party. And last night was your turn to be the D.R.O. Designated responsible one.

Eventually, you get all four of them downstairs and on the bus, no real difficulties. You all climb onto the bus and begin the drive to your home state. And you can hardly take the anticipation. Seeing your family again, visiting your favorite spots, and getting a homecooked meal was keeping you going. You had moved to California for school, before traveling on a few tours, and then settling for about a year in Nashville. But you ached for New York.

While your boys busied themselves with talk, games, and music, you stared out the window, biting your thumb and ignoring the reruns of Daredevil that played on your laptop in front of you. And apparently, you were bouncing your leg intensely, because the only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was Rosie’s head on your thigh to relax you.

You scratched her head, sighing as you closed your computer, before glancing up to the boys, who had gone suspiciously quiet.

“What?” you asked, giving them a concerned look.

“You know we’ll make it to New York, right?” Sam asked, “You’ll be there soon.” He said, holding your hand, just like he always did when you were anxious.

“I know, I’m just—I miss home. And I love touring, and usually I’m never like this, but when I realized I’d be seeing my mom after months, I just... It made me start focusing a lot more on the fact that I miss it.”

You knew they’d get it. Michigan had been their home for years, and although they loved Nashville just like you did, you knew they left a part of themselves in Frankenmuth, just as you had in New York.

Danny tossed you a blanket, “Get some sleep, Sugar. You’ll need it.” he said softly. You nodded, too anxious and tired to argue any further than that. You cuddled up to Sam, Rosie finding her way in between your legs to further comfort you.

As you drifted off, you thought about your relationship with them. Things like Sam’s holding your hand and cuddling, Danny’s very often kisses to your forehead, Jake’s gentle hugs from behind, and Josh’s well—Josh’s everything, he’s a very affectionate young man—had been, for the most part, strictly platonic. You had thought about it. Kissing one of them, asking to break the professional lines of your relationship, however blurred those had become.

But it was more than that. Over the past few months of knowing them, it had developed from you getting them from place to place, into a softer, more tender relationship. The relationship you had formed with them was something you had been desperately lacking and needing. You had only realized that you missed it when you got it from them.

You were all real true soulmates.

You woke up to the sound of a loud series of honks and yelling from outside the bus. You peeked out of the window to see people screaming at each other, thousands of people making their way to work, and tall skyscrapers overhead.

“Jesus Christ, it smells like someone died!” Jake complained, as the rest of the boys agreed on the smell being horrid. It made you grin. You were home.

You stretched and pulled out your phone, checking the itinerary for the day that you had written out in your note’s app the night before. And you were right on schedule, since you accounted for traffic getting here. It was around noon, so you decided to head over to the hotel to get settled in before the show.

Except when you got there, the lady at the front desk informed you there were no rooms booked under the name you had given them. Which was insane, because you booked a room months ago knowing how expensive and unpredictable the city was.

So here you were, a show that night, with no hotel room, and a group of hungry twenty-something year olds. You were going to scream. And they could see it on you, your muscles tense, as you struggled to not start shaking.

Josh rested a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb gently against it as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulders. “Deep breathes, Baby. You made that reservation; these guys are just a bunch of fucking fucks.” And it made you laugh, enough to relax you. You took another minute to think, before turning back to the rest of the guys.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We must be at the Garden for soundcheck and costumes, hair, and makeup by five thirty. We’ll go there now, drop off our bags and we can go grab pizza and garlic knots at this spot I know, good and are very cool with service dogs.” You said, unable to think of a scenario where you leave Rosie anywhere except with Sam. “While we’re there, I’ll make a call, since I think I know where we can stay if you guys don’t mind a bit of a drive after the show.” No one objected, they simply got back on the bus as instructed, and headed to enact that plan.

After dropping off your things and making it to the pizza place, you step outside for that call, telling Jake to just order you a soda. The phone rings. Once. Twice. And on the third call, your mom answers, excitedly saying your name.

“Where are you guys? Did you make it to the hotel okay?” she asks, and your face melts at the softness.

“Hey, Mom, we’re in the city, getting some lunch. Listen, the hotel messed up our reservation, and now we’re looking for a new place to stay... I know it’s last minute, but—” And before you can ask it, she cuts you off.

“Well, you five can stay here! We have the guest room, your room and your brother’s room.” She decides. “I’ll cook, do they like sausage and peppers?”

“Mom, you don’t have to, it’s gonna be late when we get in.”

“And you still need to eat. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you baby, break a leg tonight.” She advises, even though you aren’t the one preforming.

“Alright, I love you, mom.” You hang up and head back inside, settling into your seat next to Josh, just as the waitress comes back to take your order. “We’ll have a large cheese pizza with half mushrooms, please. And a dozen and a half garlic knots.” You say coolly, not giving the boys a chance at all. You love this restaurant. It’s best you order anyways.

They all stare at you for a few seconds before you smile. “You all get to meet my mom tonight.”

“Don’t you think we should have a couple of dates before we meet your mom?” Danny asks, and it makes you giggle.

“What do you think this is?” You tease.

Lunch goes really well, and after a bit of tourism and some drinks around the city, you make it to Madison Square Garden to get them ready for the show. For a brief few hours, you have a break. Usually, you spend it catching up on some work, having some quiet time, or anything of the sort. But this is their debut at the Madison Square Garden, in your hometown. You feel an obligation to watch the show.

Before the show begins, as Josh and Jake are getting their makeup done, you relax with Sam and Danny on a couch somewhere backstage. When Jake is done, he steals your phone off the table, and holds it up to take a photo of the three of you. Sam and Danny lean in and each kiss one of your cheeks, and it makes you roll your eyes for a second before you smile at the camera, letting them be all lovely dovey and affectionate, like a bunch of freaks. Your freaks.

When the show starts, you watch from the sidelines, cheering for them and generally enjoying the show, because you just know how important this is for them. And you eat it right up, watching your boys perform at a dream venue for so many artists.

Before they start Highway Tune, Josh starts speaking to the crowd. “This is a very special show for us. Our debut at The Garden. The Garden, how about that?” He hums. “And we’re also playing in our tour manager’s hometown... So, we have some special surprises for you in their honor.” The crowd goes wild, and your face flushes, giggling at the idea of them performing a special show just for you.

The show goes by quicker than you would like it to, because you’re enjoying it too much. And you’re really understanding suddenly why so many people are down bad for them online. They look really fucking good. When they get off stage, you just want to cling onto them or make out with them or worse, and then they go back on for the encore and it leaves you longing, wanting for more.

What the fuck is happening to you?

You get caught up in this feeling to the point where the next hour or two—Waiting for the crowds to clear out, for them to get undressed, for the bus to get there—fly by, and before you know it, you’re in the bus again, heading to your moms. Josh lays his head on your lap, and Sam has found himself cuddled up against you. Danny is leaning against Jake across from you, and Jake is just staring at you. He has a familiar look in his eyes, and you just stare back.

When you make it to your home, while all the houses are dark and quiet, the kitchen and living room light is on when you make it to your home. The bus driver has family in the area, so he’ll stay with them for the night, and pick you up early on Thursday Morning, giving you all a break from the crazy travel days.

Your mom is in the kitchen when you come in, having late night coffee and tea with your stepdad. She hears you come in and gets excited, greeting you all at the door. She pulls you in for a hug and a kiss, holding onto you for a little while, just excited to see you. When she pulls away, she grins at the boys.

“And who are these lovely young men?” she asks, teasingly.

In a deadpan voice, you respond, “The cokehead rockstars I’ve been traveling with. I’m their groupie.” You say, and she scoffs at your sarcasm.

Josh smiles, “That’s us, Baby!” He opens his arms to your mom, and she gladly hugs him as a greeting, despite this being their first meeting. And there it is again, that aching feeling you had, when you watched them perform tonight, the same feeling that followed you home. After hugs and introductions, you’re all at the dinner table, gobbling down the dinner your mom made for you. You can almost cry, enjoying the taste of her cooking after months without it.

And the boys enjoy it too, loving a filling meal after a busy show. When you have all finished eating, you make your way up to your respective rooms. You stick Danny and Sam in the guest room, Jake sleeps in your brother’s room, and Josh in your bed, with you. You could almost die.

You take out your earrings and then you lay down. Your arms are exposed, showing off the tattoos you have once more. Josh sleeps in his boxers and a tee shirt, even though your room is chilly. He lays next to you and begins tracing his fingers over your tattoos.

“What’s this one?” he asks, tracing over a ghost that’s on your forearm, right above your elbow.

“Got it during the final show of Phoebe’s tour. She has a similar one somewhere, and I guess it was my way of commemorating the tour.” You explain. He hums, and moves to a different one, asking you the origin of that one. This goes on for a while, before you kiss his palm and tell him to get some sleep.

He falls asleep quickly, and you just stare at him through the darkness. ‘Are you dreaming of me?’ You want to ask, a hand reaching out to run your hands through those vicious curls. Before you know what, you’re doing, you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his chest. When you feel his arms wrapped around you, you begin to drift off, confident that you did not overstep any boundaries.

When the morning strikes, you get up and realize Josh is still asleep. You wiggle out of his arms and leave the room. You must be lost in thought because you bump flat into someone without even noticing. It’s Danny. His hair is wrapped up in a towel, and he only wears a towel around his waist.

He reminds you of that one video of Slash from the golden age of Guns N Roses, and it stirs something deep inside of you.

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead gently. “Hey, sweets.” he says softly, in that raspy morning voice.

“Good morning.” You respond. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything; you don’t have to apologize.” He advises. “See you downstairs.” You take a cold shower just to get out of your own head before heading downstairs, where you meet your mom, Jake, Sam, and Danny laughing and eating French toast, as your stepdad cooks in the kitchen.

You love his French toast, but a pang of disappointment hits you as you think about your sausage, egg and cheese on a bagel, with hashbrowns. You quickly eat to dissipate any of those needs. But you’ve been talking about that sandwich for months, so it haunts you.

The rest of the day, you spend pretty much doing nothing. You nap, lounge, and catch up with your mom. It’s the perfect day. Just you, your mom, and your boys. And of course, Rosie. Your mom makes pulled pork sliders for lunch, and you order Chinese food for dinner. Real, good Long Island Chinese food.

And really, the day is over before you really want It to be. Sam asks you to join him on walking Rosie. You happily oblige, planning on taking him to get ice cream along the way. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you keep your head leant against his shoulder. Rosie trots in front of you happily.

“I could get used to this.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?” It catches you off guard. What does that mean?

“This. The quiet life. Walking my dog in the suburbs...” He says shyly. You get the sense there’s something on the tip of his tongue and you long for him to say it. “I love touring, but these domestic moments... You can’t beat ‘em.” He decides.

You want to kiss him so badly.

Instead, you just hum, and snuggle closer to him, wondering what the hell you’re doing. And that’s a super valid question.

The night goes the same as the last, except you kiss your mom and stepdad goodnight, not wanting them to have to get up in the morning to say goodbye. You suspect your mom will anyways. And she does. As the boys file out of the house, she’s handing them homecooked meals for the road, and you give her one more hug and kiss goodbye, before heading to the bus yourself. The others are on the bus, but Jake stands there, his hands behind his back. You narrow your eyes to him suspiciously.

“You’re an amazing tour manager, you know that?” He says gently.

“Yes, I do. What are you scheming at?” You ask, not totally trusting him.

He just grins as he reveals a brown bag he’s holding, handing it to you. Your confusion only grows as you take the bag and open it only to smell the best thing you have had in months.

A sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel. With hashbrowns. From your favorite deli.

You almost scream.

“What?!” You gasp, “How did you—”

“I borrowed your mom’s car this morning and got it for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that...”

“Yeah, I did. I meant what I said. You hold us together, and we couldn’t be more grateful. Plus, you’ve been talking about this sandwich for months and—” You don’t let him finish. You kiss him. It’s full of all this pent-up passion you’ve held in, and Jake just wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He wanted this just as much as you did, you realized. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you both lean into the kiss, fully enjoying the moment. Then, he pulls away, saying your name quietly.

You don’t know what to say. Then, the bus honks twice, scaring the shit out of you.

“C’mon you two! We got things to do, you sorry shits!” Josh yells. You can only laugh before you both climb onto the bus. Now, a new lust has overcome you. The lust for the sandwich you hold in your hands.

The lust for the four boys that surround you doesn’t dissipate either.

But as you head for Boston, your boys in tow, your shift as Greta Van Fleet’s tour manager begins once more, and you resume your position easily.

Until Sam kisses your neck. Then you melt again.

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