#fully burying her face into it (last pic) it will never get old to me I’ll always marvel at her cuteness

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[blooming-violets]

“You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you can’t name the Mambo #5 women then gtfo.” I knew a guy once who’s life goal was to sleep with every woman who was named in that song. At the time I knew he him he only had a Jessica. I wonder how he’s doing today and if he ever found a Rita who wasn’t 80 years old. 

Suddenly, the thought would attack his mind: like being struck by lightning. He would wonder if she tasted as sweet as she was, while silently observing her with a crooked half-smile on his face, cock half-hard in his pants.

OoOooohh sweet Jesus I’m not going to survive this chapter I already know it. 

Honeysuckle. No wonder birds and bees couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Hummingbird wings beat beneath his chest as his tongue lapped at her petals, devouring the nectar he’d find.

Remember when DJ Khaled said once that he’d never eat out a woman but he expects them to suck his dick?? How could that man miss on this kind of beauty?? This is the kind of shit I expect to find in the wild. I want to pluck a man straight from the outdoors and bring him home and so I can experience this level of worship. This is why literature is has ruined my dating expectations because if I don’t have this level of passion and love then I don’t want it. I consider you a contribution to the reason why I am forever single. It’s all your fault. 

He was addicted to it. Whimpering for it.

STOP. IT. STOP! I CAN’T HANDLE IT IT HURTS TOO GOOD. My legs are spread wide open and ready. Question: Does Peter have a beard or stubble in this fic????? These are important things I must know. Send me a pic of exactly what you imagine his face looking like. What’s his hair cut like? What version of Andrew are we talkin’ here?

The way we are jumping between all his fantasies right now. Holy fucking shit. I have literal bite marks imbedded in my skin from biting down on my finger so hard while I savor each and every word. 

Heaven. He was in Heaven. The sight of her made him want to fall down and worship. Made him want to cry. Bury his head against her belly and sob and scream and have her pet him and run her fingers through his hair and rock him and cradle him and promise that she’d never leave him again.

Honey was beneath him again, in his childhood bedroom. There was blood everywhere in the sheets. Streaming down her face. Coating her breasts. Covering her arms. Covering his hands.

...And that took a turn. Alrighty then. Way to ruin the vibes, Peter. 

But, really, his love and guilt for Gwen is just ugh. So beautifully written. So powerful. I imagine him starting to lust after and fall for another woman (assuming he hasn’t done that since Gwen) is also making him feel guilt. It’s like he’s cheating on her memory. If he truly believed Gwen was once his forever person, how could he ever give that same love to someone else? There’s bound to be guilt and confusion tumbling around inside of him. Opening himself to someone else but knowing exactly what kind of outcome that could bring can’t be easy either. He can’t give Honey everything he wishes he could because that would leave him too vulnerable to the pain. Lust after her but keep her at an arms length. Want her but not allow her make a home inside his heart. Not able to let her go but not able to fully keep her either. And that is what those few fleeting sex fantasies have lead me to rabbit hole down. Fucking hell. Why can’t I just appreciate the smut for the smut? Why must I look deeper to find the pain? I crave the angst. I need it injected into my blood stream. 

Also, this was not the person he expected to see after... whatever that was.

I request Eddie be added into whatever weird drug fueled sex dreams Peter has next, please and thank you. Just to really confuse him some more. 

AND I FORGOT to say in the last chapter about Deadpool. I added in the screen shot but forgot to actually write about it because I was too excited about the deeper shit so I’m adding it in here. DEADPOOL DROPPING THE Y/N OMFG. You are a literal genius. I gasped and then made a loud squealing noise when I read that. Breaking the fourth wall in a fic is something I’ve never seen so beautiful executed before omg it was wonder and I loved it. Pure genius. Okay back to this chapter. 

“That was almost 3 days ago, man,” Eddie chimed in. Peter stared up at him, gobsmacked. Stunned. Confused. Worry set in Eddie’s eyes, the corners of his mouth downturned. “You’re in Vegas.”

Oooh boy it’s intense out here! 

The silver woman’s body was torn apart. Ripped open. Separated. Two halves.

It’s midnight here so I can’t be screaming but, if I could, pleases know that an audible scream would be coming out my mouth right now. Holy fucking shit. Jesus fucking christ. PETER WTF AHHHH. AMDSFNASLK;DJFNA;LSKDJFLSKJF ZSDASL;FD  ADSL;K DFB; KL;ADFV I wasn’t expecting this after the beginning of this chapter. Wow. I feel like you just grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against a wall and I am not complaining. This is some good shiiiittttt. hehehehe

“She was an assassin,” Eddie explained, gripping him by his shoulders.

Oh thank god. It’s all okay then. Rip her in half that’s fine. Fuck it why not

“Message received, I guess.”

heh heh heh heh heh heh 

Eddie chuckled at the sight in disbelief, “Dude. She stabbed you with a sword—”

I would pay money to watch this fight in a movie. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, give me rated R Spider-Man with Mr. Garfield please and thank you! 

“I got rid of the camera footage, but we gotta get out of here,” Eddie mentioned, anxiously eying the door. “Get back home before anyone else sees you.”

For fucks sake please do not leave her body there for the poor housekeeper. They don’t paid enough to be traumatized by this shit! 

“Look, this was not random, okay?” Eddie countered. “How did Kingpin know where you were? None of the rest of us did!

Did Honey know where he was going?? Is John working for Kingpin or just the feds?? I don’t remember my memory is trash. Is this Honey’s fault or someone else got spies up in here??? 

Assassin or no, the images from whatever ‘hallucination’ Peter had been having, juxtaposed with the violent scene he ‘awakened’ to, made him sick with self-loathing.

Don’t worry, Pete, Katie thinks it’s kinda hot. 

Mortified at himself. When he squeezed his eyelids closed, all he could see behind them were Honey’s eyes. The look of betrayal on her face

What’s so depressing is that it’s the other way around. She’s betraying him. I wonder if he’d even be hurt by it at this point. Is he so lost in self hatred that he would just assume she’s right for what she’s doing and assume it was all his fault?? I have so many questions that I don’t want answers to because getting answers mean the story is wrapping up and ending and I need it to go on forever. Give me more questions and no answers. 

When Peter looked back up, tears running down the bridge of his nose and cheeks, he realized he was looking at a friend. Maybe his only friend. The only one that saw him for what he truly was, and didn’t run away in terror.

At this point I’m quoting every other line but I just need to give my live commentary to someone especially since I preread chapter ten before replying and had to hold it all in. Let me scream about it while the emotions are happening. Eddie being his only real friend is such a beautiful moment. Everyone else can’t seem to see what Peter sees. No one in the gang really likes him. Some hate him. But Honey was someone to actually see Eddie for more than he let on. She started to see through his exterior. Granted, she then used that to take advantage of him, but still she saw him and felt a softness for him. I really like that detail, intentional or not, that the woman Peter falls for is one of the only other people beside himself who befriends Eddie and sees him in a different light than the others do. They have a similar soul. That soul is clouded by all this mob business and years of trauma but, in another life, where there wasn’t such drama, they would fit together so effortlessly. 

Peter certainly scared the shit out of himself.

No shit. You basically Black Dalilah’d a woman.

Okay. Deep breath. Switching into Honey mode. 

She had no idea how John was able to pull that off, but he was capable of anything.

This made me so sad. This is exactly how she sees this man. Someone who is capable of anything. When he says he’s going to brutally murder her niece, she believes him, because of course he would. He’s a monster capable of anything. But Peter just split an entire human woman in half (with his bare hands?? maybe??) so I’d like to see him go toe to toe with John by the end of this story. 

She waited for him. After what she saw him do to his guard, she was scared out of her mind, but she waited anyway.

omg baby you poor thing. She’s so trained to be submissive through years of abusive. It hurts. Peter needs to get his shit together and start taking care of her properly or let her go. I’m mad at him. I’m going to kick him in the nuts and then kiss it better.

Now it was Day 3, and she felt like giant bats were flailing in her belly. Where could he have gone? And why did he not at least call her and tell her where he was, or if he was alright? She still didn’t have her own phone (officially) but there could’ve been some form of communication.

That answers my questions at least. Honey wasn’t the one to tell where he was. That’s a mild relief. 

She wasn’t allowed to do anything without him knowing about it, but he could disappear for days and not tell her anything? How was that fair?

That’s exactly what I was thinking, girl! You’re not allowed to look at anyone but he’s allowed to fuck kill a stripper assassin?? Hell no! Honey deserves better! I’m going to make signs and start chanting outside his house until he gets his act together. 

The back of the photo read ‘You should’ve just called a plumber, Ben. 2011’

Stop this too sweet 

Provocative. Passionate. Pornographic.

Hot

“Can I help you find something?” Peter said from behind her.

AHH where the fuck did you come from. Bro I thought you were in a hotel room in Vegas with a two pieced Silver Sable how you teleport so damn quick I know time jumps exist but my mind is very singular and I’m am bad at keeping up you can’t do this to me 

Like he’d teleported in the blink of an eye.

That’s what I’m saying!! 

She wasn’t used to seeing him without at least four articles of clothing. It was odd. Unnerving.

Babe you see him in nothing but his little undies with a raging boner every night.

Home. He took a slow breath. Anywhere she was, that was his home.

omg she’s going to break your heart and I’m going to love every angsty second of it

Sometimes, Peter felt like his worst was all he had to offer.

This line stings and I love it. 

the bats in her stomach became butterflies again

I LOVE THE SWITCH FROM BATS TO BUTTERFLIES how are you so good at writing 

I haven’t always been good to you. I know that. And I want you to know that I can be better. I wanna prove to you that I know how to treat a woman right, and... That I can treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” He swallowed hard, voice evening out, “You make me feel things that I didn’t even know I was still capable of feeling.”

Hours before, Felicia raided her closet, tossing items at her with a fired-up ‘surprise, bitch, you and me are goin’ out!’

AHHHHH is this going to be the lesbian love story of my dreams??? probably not but a girl can dream

the entrance of the trendy, luxurious nightclub simply known as ‘Web.’

Which was a stupid name, she told Peter.

Turns out it was his club.

I snorted. I love Honey. She’s my fav.

“Like she was all over you,” Eddie whisper-explained, “in your fugue state, but it was nothin’ R rated. Didn’t make it past second base. No penetration, y’know? Except for the sword, when she—” AND  “Your virtue is still intact, is what I’m tryin’ t’say,” Eddie whisper-blurted, like ripping off a bandaid. “Y’know. Your honor hasn’t been... uh... fucked away, I guess.”

Have I mentioned lately how much I adore this man??

Do you have every single character ever associated with Spider-Man throughout all of history in this fic because damn woman I don’t know how you keep up. 

I want to run off to the next chapter since they’re supposed to be read together but I have a terrible headache and it’s nearly 1am and I’m tired but this was wonderful. I don’t have any closing summaries because it’s not really the end of the chapter yet. Also most of my thoughts and screaming already happened above. I hope it wasn’t too illegible for you to read. Lord knows wtf I talked about and I’m not going back to reread my mad ramblings. 

I hope some good scary shit goes down in the club because we all know Honey isn’t going to be able to run in those heels so she’ll need Felicia to save her and carry her to safety. I suppose Peter could step up too but Felicia is the real MVP here. 

ily

sugar and vice, pt. 11 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what does it mean for your world to be torn apart?

words: 7.7k

chapter warning: graphic descriptions of sex, violence and gore. smutty fantasies (p in v, oral-f and m receiving, dubcon), nude photos, catfishing, revenge p*rn, coercion and manipulation of a minor, references to cancer treatment

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. sexual situations. spousal abuse. family trauma. drug use. coersion. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Please don't date a mob boss.

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you can't name the Mambo #5 women then gtfo.

a/n - Originally this chapter and the next were intended to be one part, but the word count was far too long. I encourage you to read them together! Read this one first! Also, it might be fun to listen to the official Sugar and Vice playlist on Spotify for the next two chapters.

Back to Part 10.

Part 11

What does it mean to be pulled apart?

Peter knew. He was experiencing it first-hand.

It was glorious.

Heaven was the only thing he could think of, and he wasn’t even sure he believed such a place existed. But if it did, it would be here—in between the thighs of the woman he’d die for. 

She looked so delicate beneath him. So tiny against the black ocean of silk sheets in his bed. Her arms were outstretched, a black-leather cuff binding each wrist. Her legs were also spread wide. The sight was breathtakingly lewd—body trembling, goosefleshed, inner thighs dripping wet. He loved the way her hips squirmed beneath his hands. It made it even more fun to hold her down. 

Keep reading

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 2 - Long time no see

Summary: It’s been a while since Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have seen each other. They’ve been busy on their separate planets, helping in whatever ways they can to get things back to as normal as they’re going to get. However, with some free time, they’re finally getting to meet back up. Problem is... somebody forgot to mention the testosterone. Whoops. Well, at least Shepard’s got a free offer of carapace ripping from his sister if things go south.

(Set after ME3, enjoy your t4t shakarian lol)

---

Babe: See you at 3 then.

The message still glowed on his screen, burned into his retinas from the night before. It was the last message in a long conversation that had lasted well into hours he should have been sleeping, but it had been worth it. After all, it was important to hash out details when your fiancé was coming to visit.

It was even more important to do so in his circumstances.

“Fuck…”

The words leaked out from between Alistair’s teeth as he glanced around – the time said it was sometime after 2:40. Like always, campus was busy, full of his fellow students going from one class to another. Most of them look tired – and he understood that fully. Between med school and fighting the reapers… some days it could be a toss-up, depending on what he was doing.

Most days, med school won. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe he was just a sadist.

Regardless, campus was busy. It was easy to blend into the crowd like this as he sought a seat on a bench under a tree. All he could do was look at the screen of his omni-tool, frowning as he read through the messages.

He shouldn’t have been nervous… but he was.

Maybe that was why he clicked onto a new message window, just as busy as the one with the one he had been glancing at. Even better, the other person was online. Something like hope sprung into his chest as he started typing, fingers flying with the speed of an ex-Alliance officer.

Some things were fading with time – this probably never would.

Al: Where are my anxiety meds when I need them?

Bo: Relax, he’s going to love it. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anything left to bury afterwards.

Bo: Or whatever turians do when they die.

“Nothing like threatening my fiancé to get me to calm down.” He chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. However, a beeping drew his attention. Bo was attempting to video call him, which he was more than happy to accept.

Rannoch was as busy as ever on the other side of the line. He could see quarians and geth in the background, going about their business as his adopted sister focused her camera. Even after tweaking it, she was still a little skewed and not completely in the frame. However, she was allowed to be – her analogue sense of direction had saved his ass. She could be as out of focus as she wanted.

“I mean it, Al.”

He chuckled again. “I know, Bo. I guess I’m just nervous. I mean… we haven’t seen each other before…”

With his free hand, he gestured towards his body. Some days, especially in the early morning when he was half asleep, he was still unable to believe what was actually happened. It seemed more like a dream… at least until his voice cracked. It was doing that far less as his range settled, but still. At his age, it was kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, puberty was rough, especially when it was triggered for a second time in his 30’s.

“Told you that you should’ve sent him more dick pics.” Bo’s tone was flat as a pancake as she adjusted her camera – still out of focus. Now he was getting a view of Rannoch’s currently cloudless sky. Last time he had seen it, it had been full of Reapers. Honestly, he preferred it without them. Much friendlier. “Just relax. You know he thinks you’re hot as hell. All you have to do is use your commander Shepard voice and he’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Alistair felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m not going to use that in public…”

“You know what I mean. An Adam’s apple isn’t going to turn him off, so no sense worrying about it.” She paused, and he swore her eyes glowed. Maybe that was the camera angle? “And if it does…”

He could already see the threat – beating him with his own carapace was one of her favorites. He had never actually seen someone do it, but it was a classic at that point.

“Yeah, I know - death and calamity upon his head like you’ve only reigned down on the last guy who tried to take your crown.”

“He’s still recovering.” There was pride in her voice at that, and she should have it. After all, it wasn’t every day a human went undefeated in Omega’s underground Krogan wrestling tournaments. Surviving the reapers only brought better challengers, and it seemed to keep her well supplied with cannon fodder. “But anyway, just go for it.”

There was a pause, and her camera focused momentarily. “Also, since when did you start growing a beard?”

Oh, hail the mighty power of testosterone…

“Like two months ago, shaving sucks.” A beeping drew his attention – his heart raced at the sight of a new message. “Gotta go… I think that’s him.”

“Remember, just call me if you need his carapace ripped off.”

After the offer of violent assault, the call disconnected and left Alistair alone with his thoughts as he switched back over to his messages. Just like he thought, the message was from a certain someone he was waiting for. His heart jumped into his throat as he glanced around – nope, not there yet.

Babe: Almost there, got a little lost. I’ll never understand human city planning.

He always said that. Still, it made the ex-marine chuckle as he stood, waiting. Soon enough, they would be together again. It had been far too long, and the distance achingly wide. But now that the relays were working again, it was possible.

Note to self: maybe don’t take out the relays next time he saved the universe. It made travel a nightmare to say the least.

At least it wasn’t a long wait. Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair spotted movement that didn’t quite track for tired med student. It was too focused for that, and the pace was all wrong anyway. Plus, the whole carapace and being like seven feet tall thing helped, but it didn’t sound nearly as cool as the former.

“Alright, just… relax. Like Bo said…”

Of course, that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he stood, adjusting his shirt. All the logic in the world couldn’t have saved him then as he watched the turian approach, clearly scanning the crowd for familiar markers. His heart stopped when their eyes met in the crowd, blue into blue.

Garrus was looking good for someone who had nearly died killing Reapers.

“Al?”

There was no mistaking the surprise in the turian’s voice as he made his way over to the tree. When he finally got there, his mandibles flapped like flags in the wind. The gears were turning in his brain, no doubt running countless calibrations. In a weird way, it was kind of cute.

At the same time, it was fucking nerve wracking. Talk about a conflict of interest.

Still, it was Garrus, and he was finally there. That was enough to put a smile on Alistair’s face as he reached out to take the turian’s taloned hand. It was just as rough and warm as he remembered, and his fingers still stretched as they laced together. It might have been a little sore, but muscle memory wasn’t letting him down.

“Hey, babe. Good to see you got here in one piece.”

Thank the universe his voice didn’t crack with that one. Maybe this was the thanks he got for saving it.

At least Garrus had the good grace to not look as though his jaws had stopped working. Alistair did get to watch his eyes travel downward in the classic once-over, though. All the while, his stomach bubbled. It felt as though a heavy weight was poised to drop on his head, and all he could do was stand there and wait.

Eventually, the turian squeezed back carefully, the blunt side of his talons sliding down his fingers. “So, I guess this is why you’ve been so shy about video calling me lately?”

“My voice was cracking really badly up until about a month ago, you were saved a lot of translator feedback.” He smiled, sheepish. “But… yeah. I didn’t really know how things were going to turn out and…”

His voice trailed off as he felt heat leak into his cheeks. “Here’s hoping you still think I’m hot?”

Yep, his voice definitely cracked at the end there. Maybe the universe had it in for him after all. At least Garrus didn’t wince too hard at the sudden shift – good old turian military training there. Still, he hadn’t said anything yet. That… wasn’t promising.

Maybe he should have sent those dick pics?

“You… what’s that called again?” Garrus cocked his head to the side in a gesture that always made him look cute and kind of bird-like. “On your face. Joker was always talking about his.”

Right, turian…

“Beard. And mine’s not quite as good as his yet I’m afraid but give me a few months and I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, fingers ghosting over his amp. It hadn’t seen action in almost a year now, and it was still odd to feel it cool to the touch.

Much to his relief, Garrus nodded. “It looks good now. I mean, you look good in general and all… I thought turian reactions to hormones were impressive, but humans are something else.”

“Gotta love those secondary sexual characteristics, babe.” Relief flooded through Alistair’s system as he sighed in relief. “And I think you just saved yourself getting your carapace ripped off by my sister.”

Hooray – that would have been a nightmare to fix.

Now it was the turian chuckling as he reached down to press his faceplates to his forehead in an alien version of a kiss. It was a gesture that always got his heart racing, even if it was just a quick peck. He had missed that in their time apart – texting just couldn’t beat actual contact.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ve not had a lot of practice lately, might be getting a little rusty.”

Alistair chuckled as they started to walk through the crowd. “You, rusty? I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, no, it’s true. Barely had any time to run calibrations even, I’m starting to worry I’ll forget.”

That time, they shared a laugh between them. Maybe this was what Alistair had missed the most in the time spent on different planets – there was just something about the interplay between human and turian laughter that made his insides feel warm. Or maybe that was just his reaction to Garrus in general. Right then, anything was possible.

Still, he felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t send any in-progress shots. Bo could confirm any embarrassing details if you asked her.”

“Trust me, I get it. Remind me when we get back to your place to tell you about how I didn’t tell my sister I was going on hormones until after she came back from basic.” Another squeeze. “Of course, if you wanted to test that new vocal range out in some more strenuous conditions first…”

Oh, there was nothing friendly about that gaze. And it was something Alistair could appreciate as he squeezed back. Home was well prepped for what they both had in mind – they just had to get there first. Lucky for him, he lived within walking distance of campus.

The chuckle that escaped his lips was definitely not of the innocent afternoon type as he leaned in so only the turian could hear him. “I think that can be arranged, Vakarian. Better pick up the pace, though.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

With that, it was off they went at a faster rate, not quite a run but definitely quick. With the sun shining and thoughts about what was waiting for him when he got home, Alistair was once again glad the whole universe saving thing had worked out for the better.

Now… what exactly was he going to do with the turian when he got home? The options were endless…

[inkrabbit]

Train Schedules - Abel “Himbo” Monroe x GN!Reader

Because I could and I had a cute pic of Himbo from last night

Summary: After spending the day in Saint Denis, you find yourself bumping into a handsome man that’s waiting for the train. After telling him the correct time, you offer him to accompany you to a late night dinner.

Word count: 1,791

 Saint Denis had never been your most favorite city. Sure, it was… lively and different from what you were used to, but the thick smog always gathered in your throat and made you gag. The scent of coal and gas was heavy, and you could smell it even when you were down in Lagras, that hint of air pollution always making you crinkle your nose.

 Today, however, you found yourself lingering around the city a bit longer than normal. Having let your horse have a nice little day to itself in the stable, making sure to tip the stable boy extra to ensure your horse was well taken care of, you decided to stroll around. See what all the hype was about the big city life. You had popped into the tailor shop, and the man had poured out all the compliments for you when you tried on a new shirt. You knew he was just up-selling, but dammit it had worked. Oh well, at least you looked nice.

 The next stop was the gun store, the old man behind the counter being nice enough to clean your gun and suggest any sort of modifications to add on to it. You had taken them, paying with a smile and almost giddy to test it out on your next mission. Leaving with a smile and a sweet goodbye, you started down the street, headed for the post office. You had some things you needed to pick up; more ammo for your guns, and you’re sure someone probably sent you some mail. And you were surprised when the man had behind the counter had been friendly and sent you on your way with a smile.

 It was nightfall by the time you were done with your trip, pleasantly surprised with the experience you had with all the workers. You were honestly worried you’d meet something but snobs, and while you did with the random passerby, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. Taking out your pocket watch, you check the time. Eleven o’clock. Should you risk riding through to Rhodes, or should you just rent a room for the night in the city? You had gotten used to the odd smell of Saint Denis, but you found yourself coughing more often than you would out in some other town.

 You keep walking, too lost in thought to realize you’re coming up on the train station. You only notice it when your peripheral picks up a man standing underneath one of the bright lights, shuffling almost uncomfortably. He’s scratching as his black beard, occasionally looking around. Furrowing your brows, you stop and slip your pocket watch back its place. He wasn’t too bad looking, and you watched as he would push his hair back, only to have those white locks fall back into his face and make him scrunch his nose. A rifle is slung over his shoulder, bandolier over a black vest with the sleeves ripped off. Wait… was he waiting for the train? You had memorized the times for each train, when they arrived and departed. Saint Denis’ train wouldn’t be here for the next twelve hours. So why was this man standing here?

“You waitin’ on the train?” you ask him. He’s almost surprised when you approach him, blue eyes wide as he takes a step back. He recovers quickly, however, sending you the warmest smile you had received in a long time.

“I am!” he tells you with an airy tone, “Say, ya don’t happen to have the time, do you?”

“Little past eleven,” He nods, once again looking around. You suppose it’s better to tell him now. “Ya know the train don’t come until mornin’, right?”

“What?” He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, but you watch in amusement as the realization finally hits. His shoulders slump and he sighs, bringing a hand up to once again brush it through his hair. “That would… explain a lot, actually…”

“Were ya really gonna wait all night?” you snicker, and you watch as his freckled face grows red from embarrassment.

“I got the times mixed up with Appleseed Timber,” he grumbles softly, though a sheepish smile pulls at his lips. “I live out by Strawberry, so I’m always takin’ that train. Confused the times for that station with this one.”

“You weren’t wonderin’ why you were the only one out here?” He shrugs, finally regaining your gaze.

“Didn’t consider that,” He finally turns his body to fully face you, hand outstretched. “Well, thank you for letting me know. Guess I’ll be finding a room somewhere.”

“’Course!” You give him a firm handshake, though you let your hold on him linger. Well, you supposed you were going to be spending the night in the city. “What’s your name? Maybe we could go get some dinner together?”

“Oh! I’d love that!” He’s standing up straighter now, and it’s clearly he’s become excited as he outstretches his arm to let you loop yours through. “I’m Abel Monroe.”

 He’s sweet as he walks you away from the train station, telling you how much he likes your name when you give it to him, the two of you starting for the saloon. He’s asking you about yourself, and chuckles when you bring up Cripps. Apparently he knew the man as well, and was working with his old friend, Maggie Fike. You had heard of the lady, even met her, but the moonshine business just wasn’t for you. Not yet, at least. Abel tells you of his bar out in Tall Trees, and even offers you to drop by. You supposed you could if you were in the area, and he seems excited when you tell him so.

 He opens the doors, letting you enter first. He lets you pick a seat as he goes to the front after asking what you had wanted. When you offered him money to pay for your dinner, he just laughs and shoos you away, telling you it was his treat for the night.

“Next time, then,” you tell him, and it looks like his face heats up again. You take your seat, watching as he talks to the man behind the counter. He’s leaning against the bar, though he does look back at you while he waits, sending you a smile. You watch him thank the worker and grab the plates, lining them on one arm as he holds the bottles in his other hand. Thanking him as he sets your items down, you grab your bottle. It’s a playful toast you propose, clinking the drinks together with him and toasting to meeting new friends. He gives you a soft laugh, nodding his head.

 Conversation is kept to a friendly chat. You asked him about himself, and he tells you his business in Saint Denis. He had been visiting his parents who resided somewhere in the city, and laughed when he recalled their bewildered faces when he told them he was headed home. Apparently he had left his horse back in Strawberry, having taken the train for the long journey. He thanks you once again for catching his mistake, and you just nod. He was a nice man, though you found him to be a bit dim. You had made the occasional flirtatious joke, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it. Instead, he would just give you a smile, but you could see the confused look in his eyes. He had said how nice you were when you told him his eyes were beautiful, and when you had said he was cute. Had he ever had anyone flirt him with him before? Sure, you hadn’t planned on saying these things, but you were curious to see how far you could push it. He wasn’t a bad looking man, and he was the nicest one you had met in a long time.

 The two of you finish dinner, and you thank him again for paying. Standing up, you decide it’s time to turn in for the night, and you can feel that smile creep onto your face.

“Let’s get a room,” you suggest, and he just gives you a nod. He seems oblivious to as he follows you up to the bar, and he’s almost pushing you out of the way to pay for the room. He laughs as he tells you you can pay for the outing next time, and you’re almost surprised to hear him practically suggest you two will be spending more time together. The bartender gives you a wink as you follow Abel up to the room, and you feel your face heat up.

 Just like when you entered the saloon, the man holds the door open for you with a smile, and gives you ample time to enter. You sit on the edge of the bed, unlacing your boots. You glance up, watching as Abel removes his rifle and bandolier, before shrugging himself out of his vest. His blue paddon shirt is open at the top, the golden laces long and hanging on the sides. He also removes his gun belt, setting it down on the dresser as he starts for his boots.

“Figured you would’ve wanted your privacy,” he speaks, blue eyes flickering up to look at you. “not to spend the night with some feller like me.”

“Figured you’d be good company,” you respond, and he actually lets out a little snort as he starts laughing.

“I ain’t too sure I’d call myself that,” he chuckles, but he walks over to the other side of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. “If I bother you throughout the night, feel free to wake me up.”

“You goin’ to bed already?” you ask. He nods, bringing his legs up to lay on his side. Well, that’s not exactly how you thought spending the night with him would’ve gone. But, nevertheless you wish him a goodnight, and he gives you a hum in response. You finish removing your boots and making yourself comfortable, laying in the bed under the covers with your back towards the man. You’re almost close to falling asleep, hearing Abel’s soft snoring coming from behind you, but his shuffling catches your attention. His movements are slow and almost heavy, an arm coming out to wrap itself around your middle and pulling you close to his chest. He buries his face in the back of your neck, his beard tickling your skin as he acts as though you’re some stuffed animal he wants to cuddle with. You allow him to, resting your arm on top of his as you try to get comfortable once more. You supposed this is how you were going to spend the rest of the night.

[rockinthebeastmode]

Firestarter

A/N: I’m working on a million and one different things but wanted to finish up the first part of this--no idea when more will be up as I haven’t written it yet but fingers crossed I’ll figure something out 😅😂 This is the unplanned sequel to Sleep, so please read that first or this will make next to no sense. I hope you enjoy!

You can find Sleep here:  I   II   III  

You can find the rest of my fics here.

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Firestarter

You’re nothing but an ungrateful waste of space! Just a useless firebug that needs to be stomped out!

Finn startled awake, his eyes immediately squinting against the strong sunbeams pouring through the garage skylight. He grimaced and stretched, his limbs stiff from sleeping on the hard floor.

It had been two long days since he was released from the hospital. He’d somehow found an old sleeping bag buried in the surrounding maze and his leather jacket laid folded as a makeshift pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable setup but he was free, at least for now.

He rolled to his knees and reached for his duffel bag, stuffed with his entire life. He wiggled the stuck zipper open and pulled out jeans and a t-shirt, attempting to shake the creases out of them. He stood and dressed before making his way to the door and hesitantly peeking out into the backyard.

The house was in bad shape, the second level almost completely burned away. He couldn’t see any sign of his room from the back but he saw one of his walls was still standing when he rounded the front of the house. He went up the front steps slowly and through the blackened door frame, glancing around at the wreckage.

Parts of the staircase had collapsed, leaving a perilous path upstairs, and he could see the back door from where he stood in the foyer. He gingerly walked through the kitchen, looking over the scorched remains of the stuff he’d thrown during the fire. His heart sped up when he spotted the warped and melted pan between the kitchen and living room, the metal shining in the sunlight. He forced his eyes off of it, shortly finding broken picture frames nearby. He knelt down and carefully picked up the salvageable photos, some burnt at the corners.

The first showed his mum in a hospital bed, a tired smile across her face as she held him close. His dad stood close, a wide grin aimed at the two. He frowned a bit confusedly at her face, wondering how she’d been back then. Had anyone known how she’d change as he grew up? Had anyone noticed something off about her?

He flipped to the next picture, a crumbling shot of his fifth birthday. His mum stood beside him, her signature smirking glare clear despite the fade. His Nan stood at his other side, a wary frown in place as she looked at Jenny instead of the camera. His brow furrowed as he glanced between them, his lips flattening. He’d never realized how she’d looked before—almost afraid or unsure. He didn’t see his father in the frame but couldn’t remember if he’d been present or burned away.

He dropped the photo, holding the last one in both hands. It was just of him and his Nan, his arms wrapped around her legs as he grinned toothily at the camera. She was smiling down at him, a hand in his hair. They stood in the backyard, the garage behind them and he bit his lip roughly at the sight, resisting the urge to rip it apart. He threw it and it fluttered to the ground facedown. Writing on the back caught his eye as he turned to walk away. He bent to get it and skimmed the words, his throat burning at the familiar handwriting.

Dearest Finn, Already six years old! Where does the time go? You’re my shining star, my favorite boy in the whole universe. I love you to the moon and back. Always remember that tea makes everything alright. Love, Nan

***

“Do you have to go?” Finn asked quietly, his eyes starting to well up.

Margaret Nelson tried to smile, her eyes going behind him to his mum standing in the doorway. Jenny inclined her head to her, crossing her arms and Peggy looked away, meeting Finn’s eyes.

“It’s just a little crowded with all of us in the house, dear. S’better for me to move out,” she explained, biting her lip as a tear fell down Finn’s cheek, “Don’t cry, my lad...We’ll still spend all kinds of time together. Don’t you worry.”

Finn nodded with a loud sniff, wiping his eyes with the back of his fist. Peggy pulled him to her in a tight hug, holding him as close as possible for as long as she dared. When Jenny stepped from the doorway to intervene, she moved back and ran a hand through Finn’s hair.

“I love you to the moon and back, Finny. Be a good boy for your mum,” she whispered, willing her own tears away. She went to stand from her kneel and Finn threw his arms around her, keeping her at his level. Her lips flattened and she held him, her eyes narrowing as Jenny started to approach.

“That’s enough, boy. Nan has to go now,” Jenny said, her hand gripping his shoulder and pulling him back. He held fast and she rolled her eyes, her hand moving down his arm to his wrist. Before she could tug him away, Peggy moved back and stood, smiling down at Finn.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

With that, she entered the cab, keeping her eyes facing forward the best she could. As the driver pulled away, she finally allowed her tears to fall.

***

Finn bounded down the front steps, stopping short at the sidewalk when his dad drove up and parked along the street. He got out and faced him, looking over the house remains before meeting his eyes. Finn crossed his arms.

“What’re you doing here?” Gary raised a brow at him.

“Is this not my house?” he asked wryly, Finn rolling his eyes, “I just came to check over the place, lock up the garage. Gotta take pictures for the police as well.” Finn shook his head, his arms dropping and a hand going to his pocket.

“I’ve got the garage covered,” he argued vehemently, waving his words off before smirking bitterly, “Lemme see the pics before you hand ‘em over, yeah? Might make a collage.”

Gary’s expression hardened and he opened his mouth to retort when Finn turned to walk away, his head low.

“Finn, wait.” He stopped, his head barely moving to look back.

“D’ya have somewhere to go--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn cut him off, still facing away. He took a step as Gary spoke again.

“I got your scooter fixed, it’s parked by the shed,” he said hastily before tossing the keys as he faced him, “Just watch your speed this time, no more racing out at Rutlands.” Finn nodded grudgingly.

“Right, whatever...thanks, Dad.” Gary tried to smile and cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you soon, I’ll be in town the next few days if you need anything.”

He stepped forward with his arms out but Finn nodded shortly and walked off towards the small shed just off the garage. He cracked open the door, coughing slightly as dust flew. He retrieved his helmet from a table to the side and knocked cobwebs out of it before putting it on with a grimace. He mounted the scooter, kicked the stand up and started the motor. It roared to life and his lips quirked at the sound, his hand running over the handlebar.

He looked up from the bike in time to see his dad bend into the backseat of his car and pull out a Polaroid camera. His mouth twisted into a sneer and he revved the engine before speeding off, his dad disappearing into a blur behind him.

***

Finn pulled up to the cemetery gate and parked, shaking out his hair as he removed his helmet. He left it on the seat before entering the grounds, squinting over the stones. He set off towards the middle, hands in pockets, his steps steady until he approached the grave.

He bit his cheek as he faced the stone, his eyes running over the script reading, ‘Margaret Nelson’. He knelt down and looked over the flowers placed carefully in front, nodding to himself. Archie had gotten exactly what he’d asked--white and deep red, almost black roses. He ran his fingers over the petals before sighing and dropping to the ground. He lit a rollie and brought his knees to his chest, his arms encircling them.

“Sorry I haven’t been ‘round in awhile...got kinda tied up,” he joked darkly, shrugging a bit, “I’m assuming not too much has changed on your end, eh?”

Finn shook his head at himself, sucking at his cigarette deeply. He looked up at the clouds, smoke streaming from his lips as he sighed.

“I wonder what’d you say if you saw me now,” he thought aloud, his brow lowering, “You might even be watching me right this minute…”

His teeth gritted and the back of his eyes burned with impending tears. His free hand ran over his face roughly, a frustrated sound coming from his throat.

“Are you proud of the man I’ve become?”

He whispered the words, not trusting himself to speak fully. He wasn’t even sure he could call himself a man. He was just a boy.

A boy who was making all of the wrong choices.

***

“Just wait, Arch, girls’ll be lining up once we have these bikes fixed up,” Finn assured, clapping his best mate’s shoulder. Archie laughed a bit, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded, his smile turning sly.

“Stacey won’t be able to resist ya,” he teased, dodging Finn’s punch. He chuckled at the frown that crossed his face.

“Stacey don’t mean nought to me,” he retorted, shaking his fringe out of his face as he crouched to tighten a bolt. Archie snorted.

“Why don’t you tell her that?”

Finn shot him a look and opened his mouth to reply when his front door slammed open, his mother stepping onto the porch and scanning the yard. He stiffened and gulped as she yelled his name, calling him in for dinner a moment later. He stood quickly, throwing the wrench down. Archie’s brow furrowed at his haste.

“Y’alright?”

Finn forced a smile, already starting to back away.

“Of course...I gotta get going though, I’ll see you later.”

Archie nodded, a confused frown forming. He raised his hand in a wave, watching as Finn rushed into the house without looking back.

“Yeah...laters.”

***

“Thought I might find you here.”

Finn looked up from his spot on the ground, squinting through the smoke at Archie walking up, his helmet in hand. He inclined his head to him, bringing the dwindling rollie between his lips.

“Alright?” he greeted simply, Archie smiling before moving to the ground next to him and elbowing him lightly.

“We’ve been worried about you,” he said, Finn’s nose wrinkling as he shrugged.

“M’fine, Arch.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, raising a brow at Finn.

“You sure about that?”

Finn remained silent, sucking at his cigarette once more before tossing it aside. Archie sighed and shook his head.

“Come ‘round Chop’s, yeah? We’re meeting the lads down at Rutlands later,” Finn looked hesitant, his teeth worrying his bottom lip and Archie chuckled sardonically, “I’m sorry, is Prince Nelson’s dance card full today? You have something better to do then hang with your mates?”

“Fuck off,” Finn snickered, pushing at his shoulder before standing, Archie following, “That’s King Nelson to you, Archibald.”

***

“There’s the knobhead now,” Chop announced as he opened the door for Finn and Archie, “Bout time you came outta hiding—almost sent out a search party for ya and everything.”

Finn snorted, he and Archie fist bumping him as they entered.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” he said, Chop moving to ruffle his hair. Finn got him in a headlock and Archie groaned, rolling his eyes as they tussled.

“Real mature, guys,” he quipped, crossing his arms. Chop shoved Finn off of him easily, a gap-toothed grin across his face.

“You’ve gone soft, lad,” he taunted, rolling his neck, “That all you got?”

Finn raised his brows and lifted his fists, dropping to a defensive stance. Chop followed suit and Archie brought a hand to his forehead as they circled each other. Finn swung and Chop ducked before Archie came between them, holding them apart. He brought an arm around both of them, leading them into the living room.

“C’mon, playtime’s over, boys.”

***

The doorbell rang just as they’d started a game, Finn continuing through the menu screen as Chop went to the door. Archie sat back on the couch, biting his lip as he looked at Finn. He cleared his throat and Finn shot him a glance.

“Spit it out, Arch, you’ve obviously got something to say,” he said, his eyes still on the TV. Archie’s mouth twisted and he nodded to himself.

“I just...I hope you know I’m here for you...if you need to talk or a place to stay—” Finn waved a hand, dismissing his words.

“I told ya, I’m fine. I’ve got it handled,” he reiterated, a smile briefly crossing his face. Archie sighed, looking Finn over once more before looking at the TV as well.

“If you say so…”

Chop returned from answering the door, gesturing behind him at the hall.

“Stacey’s here to see you, mate.”

Finn rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stood. He handed his controller to Archie and ran a hand through his hair before starting towards the front door.

“I’ll be right back,” he sighed, Chop and Archie exchanging knowing glances but returning to their game silently.

Finn grimaced as he met eyes with Stacey, his infamous on and off girlfriend since they’d been kids. Her face broke into a sickly sweet smile and she held her arms out to him for a hug. He conceded, bringing his arms around her waist but turned his head when she leaned up for a kiss.

“You asked Chop about me, what d’ya want,” he stated, wasting no time and holding her at arm’s length. Stacey pouted, her hands rubbing his biceps.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she countered, faux innocence dripping from her voice. His eyes narrowed at her before they rolled.

“Bollocks,” he scoffed, her lips raising to a smirk. She stepped closer to him, bringing a hand to his face.

“You know me so well,” she cooed, patting his cheek. His head snapped back with a huff and he stepped away, raising a brow at her expectantly. She tilted her head, smirk still in place.

“Simmy needs a favor.”

“Why’re you involved?” he asked, his brow furrowing, “Fucker can’t ask me himself?”

Stacey bit her lip, moving closer, Finn’s back almost at the wall.

“He didn’t think you’d say yes if he asked,” she replied, her hands moving to his chest. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away, his mouth twisting in annoyance.

“What makes him think you could convince me?” he grunted. He swallowed hard when Stacey’s hands went to his waistband and she pressed closer, her breasts against his chest.

“I’ve been told I can be very persuasive,” she whispered as her hand went down the front of his pants.

Finn’s eyes squeezed shut and he growled lowly before moving to push her away. His hands gripped her shoulders but when her other hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head to the side, her lips going to his neck, his hold loosened.

“Fuck you, Stacey,” he breathed, groaning under his breath as she touched him, her tongue tracing the line of his throat. She smiled against his skin and he pulled her face to his, kissing her roughly. His fingers held her chin as he pulled away, their lips brushing.

“The fuck you smiling about,” he snapped before tugging her into a nearby closet, her giggles shortly cut off with his mouth.

***

Finn saw Stacey out half an hour later and returned to the living room to disappointed tuts from his mates.

“Piss off, alright,” Finn grumbled, snatching the controller back from Archie. Chop snorted, exchanging smirks with him.

“What’d she want anyways?”

Finn scoffed, his hands clenching the controller tight.

“What’d Simmy want, y’mean,” he said hotly, lifting a shoulder at their confused looks, “Stacey was just the messenger—the arsehole wants a favor.” Archie pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“Don’t do it, Finn, you’re in enough trouble as it is,” he warned, frowning when Finn didn’t look concerned.

“I should see what he has to say,” he answered, Chop making a face, “Maybe it’s harmless.”

“We’re talking about Simon Evans, lad,” Chop retorted, “Ain’t nothing harmless about him.”

Archie and Chop gave each other worried looks as Finn waved a hand dismissively.

“I can handle Evans...we’ll see what the wanker’s on about soon enough.”

[trade-baby-blues]

Steel Camellias Pt 2

Pairing: Bones x Reader (part one here)

Word Count: 3980 

Warnings: some angst, some swearing, but mostly cute roadtrip snapshots and an overall good time. Also some NSFW mentions. 

A/N: Based on a request by the lovely @slither-in-a-half​ “ Can you do a Leonard McCoy x reader. Where everyone is on shore leave, but the reader can’t go back to her home in Alabama so she asks Leonard if she could go with him.” This is the part where they actually make it to Alabama!! :D 

The wind scraped through the trees, letting out the wails you could no longer muster within yourself. Instead, you stood stoic, planting your own roots in front of the small memorial at your feet. “I had her cremated.” Bones had the decency not to ask, but you could tell the question was on his mind. “Couldn't afford a funeral. I wanted her close. So she always knows she’s loved.”

Bones put a hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. “How did you end up in San Francisco?”

“I applied to Starfleet. Figured it was the best thing I could do for Eden. She’d have health care, day care. I’d be able to afford a good school for her.” You let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a choke. “The acceptance letter came the day after she died.” Bones said nothing. Some wounds couldn’t be healed with words.

“We should probably go,” you said, but your feet remained firmly planted. You thought it would get easier, but each time you said goodbye to your daughter felt like the first. You let Bones tug you away slowly, humming again, and you put your head against his chest, letting the vibrations fill your head.

Bones opened the passenger door for you, and you clambered in with the grace of a three legged dog. You curled up on yourself, feet up on the dash, head against the window, as Bones started the car. This was the only way you’d agreed to go back to Alabama, knowing full well driving would take longer.

“Where to first,” Bones said, revving the engine and turning the stereo on. A pair of aviators obscured his eyes but you could feel him watching you. You pulled yourself out of your tragic, indie movie star pose and sat up in your seat, sending a devious smile Bones’ way. You knew exactly where to start.

Leonard McCoy had never understood the appeal of Las Vegas, but seeing you standing on top of the bar singing your heart out and swinging your hips. Well, he was starting to appreciate it. You curled your finger at him, beckoning him to come up, and, despite his better judgement, he downed the rest of his drink and joined you.

At least, that’s what Leonard thinks happened. The night’s memories were a little fuzzy right up until he woke up next to you in bed with nothing but a sheet and your arm wrapped around his torso. He slipped carefully out of bed and into the shower, trying desperately to remember what happened last night. He remembered dancing and he remembered sleeping but he couldn’t remember sleeping with you. He couldn’t remember your taste or your smell, only how warm you felt lying next to him.

When Bones got out of the shower, you were already dressed, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He held the towel around his waist a little tighter as he sidled over to his bag to pull out a fresh change of clothes.

“Mm mm mm,” you said, eyeing him, “I get why they call you Bones now.”

Bones froze. “And why’s that?”

“Because I wanna jump your bones.” You winked before practically springing off the bed. “Come on, sugar. You got plenty of sleep last night after I hauled your drunk ass up here. Time to hit the road.”

Bones let out a huge sigh of relief as you entered the bathroom. As many times as he’d thought about what sleeping with you would be like, he never pictured it as a drunken escapade in a downtown Vegas hotel. He’d always hoped it would be romantic, that he could woo you, that it would

“Wait,” he shouted through the bathroom door, “you want to fuck me?”

You let your confession run freely around Bones’ mind for awhile as the two of you barreled down Highway 70. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as you watched the landscape whiz by, wind blowing your hair around you, sun making your thighs stick to the leather seats when you moved. You thought for a moment that shorts might not have been the best idea, but Bones’ eyes darted to you every time you adjusted them and you figured that in itself was worth it.

“We should go see the giant nut,” you said. Bones eyes jumped to you again, curious, and lingering long enough for the car to start drifting out of the lane. He jolted back into position and you snickered.

Bones cleared his throat to regain his composure, though you could tell by the pitchiness in his voice that his mind was still elsewhere: “The giant nut?”

“Yeah, the world’s largest pistachio nut. It’s in Alamogordo, which is on the way.”

Bones groaned. “Come on, you promised we would make it through New Mexico before we stop for the day.”

“And we can! Look, we’ll just stop for a little bit, snap a pic, and keep going.”

“If we’re only staying for a few minutes, why go at all?”

“Because it’s the world’s largest pistachio nut.” You emphasized each word as if it should have been obvious. “How many times in your life have you seen a giant nut? I mean come on Bones, it’s 30 feet tall.”

Bones remained unimpressed, even standing in the shadow of the actual nut. “It’s not even real.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course it’s not real.”

“Well you said it’s the world’s largest pistachio.”

“And it is,” you argued, waving your arms at all of its concrete glory. “It’s not about the nut. It’s about what it represents. It’s about this guy who loved both pistachios and roadside attractions, which, by the way is incredibly relatable.”

Bones snorted. “I’ll make sure to propose with a pistachio on the side of the road then.”

“Hey, I might not be a traditional kinda person, but friends to spouses is a bit of a jump, isn’t it,” you teased. You giggled as you watched the tips of Bones’ ears turn pink under the streetlight.

“Well, whaddya say we start being a little more than friends?”

You turned to face him fully, smile spreading across your face. “I’d say you need to take a few pointers from Jim on how to woo a woman.”

Bones rolled his eyes before pulling you against him. “Shut up,” he muttered, bringing his lips down against yours. You stood on your tiptoes to reach your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies as close as you could, wishing the moment could last forever only to have it broken by a fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, noting Bones’ quizzical look. “I’m sorry I just. I spent a lot of time thinking about kissing you but I - I never once pictured it in the shadow of a giant fucking pistachio.” Whatever composure you were clinging to escaped and you doubled over with laughter. Bones chuckled too, putting a hand on the small of your back as you clutched your sides. Your chest ached by the time you finally caught your breath - breath that left you again as soon as you looked back into Bones’ eyes.

He smiled warmly at you - a bigger smile than you’d seen on him before. He slipped a hand beneath your chin and pulled you into another chaste kiss before his lips brushed against your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as his teeth grazed your earlobe. His breath was hot against the side of your face, the anticipation grueling until he finally spoke: “The metal dinosaur was still cooler.”

You punched him playfully in the chest. “We were having a moment. Jerk.”

Bones laughed freely now. “Come on, sugar. We can’t have a moment in front of the giant nut. You wanna have a moment, we should find a hotel.” He rested his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him again.

“Thought you wanted to get to Texas.”

“Changed my mind. Figure we’ve seen enough roadside attractions. Maybe it’s time for a few bedside ones.”

You stretched languidly in the morning sunlight, rolling over to throw an arm around Bones’ torso. To your disappointment, he was already up and out of bed. You cracked an eyelid open and spotted him in the kitchenette, cooking and humming away. Groaning, you forced yourself out of bed and padded into the kitchen to wrap your arms around him, burying your face between his shoulder blades.

Bones turned in your arms, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a sec if you wanna go get dressed.”

You grunted. “Sure I can’t just have you?” You were sure your ruffled hair and wrinkled shirt were as far as you could get from attractive but damn if you didn’t try.

Bones only laughed. “You had me all night, and you can have me again tonight, but for now we’ve got some driving to get done.” He gave you a brief kiss before turning you around and pushing you gently towards your suitcase. You grumbled under your breath, determined to find the perfect sundress to tease Bones with all day in hopes that he’d rip it off of you again when you got to the next hotel. It did not escape Bones notice, and by the way he kissed you as you left the hotel, you guessed he had the same plans.

“Where to now, sweetheart,” he asked, one arm still thrown around your shoulders as he reached down to open the passenger seat for you.

You were careful to let your hem ride up as you took a seat. The way Bones tensed before he shut the door did not go unnoticed, and you smiled. “I was thinking we’d stop by and see Old Rip.”

“Old Rip?” Bones forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, Old Rip. The miracle of science. Well, not a miracle to you, I guess, on account of how you brought Jim back to life, but a miracle to the simple-minded folks of good ol’ Eastland, Texas in 1926.”

“So what? Some guy died and came back to life?”

“Oh no,” you said, flashing Bones a devious smile, “not a man. He’s a horned lizard. Sorry, was a horned lizard. He’s dead now.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a miracle to me,” Bones grumbled.

“Oh come on, Len. Don’t be such a grump. This lizard was a rockstar! He met the president when he was alive. Have you ever met the president,” you teased, jabbing Bones playfully in the side.

He swatted at you. “Shut up.”

“Aw, jealous much?” You poked him again.

“I am not jealous of a lizard,” he said, swatting at you again. You laughed, catching his hand in yours and resting both on your leg.

The two of you left Old Rip’s memorial hand in hand, laughing almost until you were crying. You pulled your brand new Old Rip hat down over your eyes to avoid the judging stares of the people around you.

“We shouldn’t,” you gasped between breaths. “We shouldn’t laugh. It’s a miracle of science.”

“The real miracle is that people believe all this.”

“Where did they lose you? The lizard alive after being trapped in a box for 31 years? The theorists who claimed it was fake and then denied that they claimed it was fake? The conspiracy that the real Old Rip was stolen and replaced with a different lizard?” You looked at Bones for all of a minute before breaking down into laughter again.

The rest of the trip was not as eventful. Bones was still eager to see Jo again, and you didn’t want to be the one to keep them apart, so you agreed no more roadside attractions. In the end, you drove straight through Louisiana and Mississippi, only stopping in Montgomery because neither of you could keep your eyes open.

You woke up first, this time, struggling to catch your breath. The nightmare was already fading, but your hands still shook and your throat felt tight. Bones stirred beside you, rolling over to pull you closer to him. His arm, meaning to wrap around your waist, hit your knees instead, and he opened his eyes to find you knees against your chest, breathing heavily.

“Hey,” he said, pushing himself up so he could sit against the headboard next to you. “What is it? What happened?” You shook your head softly, and Bones pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around his bare shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and breathing him in.

In a breath just above a whisper you asked, “What if my mom still hates me?”

“Family isn’t just blood,” Bones started. “Some family you get to choose. Even if your mom can't accept you, you've got an entire ship of people to come back to on the Enterprise.”

You let his words sink in, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the weight of his stare. It was too gentle, too loving - all the toos you weren’t used to in life, so you did what you always did in these situations. You cracked a joke: “If we’re all family, does that make you my daddy,” you purred in Leonard’s ear.

Bones trailed a finger down your side, barely touching your skin. He pushed you onto your back, trapping your head between his forearms. “Does that make you my baby girl,” he asked, breath hot against your face. He was careful to keep his weight off of you but you could still feel his hips grind against yours.

“God yes,” you breathed before pushing yourself up to claim his mouth with yours. Bones slipped a hand behind your head, keeping you close to him as your hand ran down his chest to the hem of his boxers. You slipped a finger past the hem and Bones sucked a deep breath in, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours.

Bones reached down and pulled your hand back up to his mouth, kissing your fingers one by one. “Not right now, sugar,” he said, though the look in his eyes begged otherwise. “We’ve gotta go see your mama first.”

You dropped back against the bed, groaning. “You sure you don’t want to help me get dressed?”

Bones laughed, placing a kiss against the side of your neck. “I’ve got to shower if I’m supposed to meet your parents today, so you’re on your own.”

“I could always join you in the shower.” Bones rolled his eyes but beckoned you to come, smile still plastered on his face.

You felt like you needed another shower by the time you made it to your parents house. Between the summer heat and the anxiety, you were sweating like a whore in church, an idiom whose irony was not lost on you. Bones’ hand on your back wasn’t helping, and his hum was deafening in your ears. The same song the whole trip and you still couldn’t quite place it.

“Would you quit,” you hissed, pushing Bones’ hand off you and leaving enough space between the two of you so your mother wouldn’t have a fit.

“Quit what?”

“The humming.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to ease some of the tension in your body as you waited on your parents’ porch.

“Sorry. Figured you’d like it. ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and all. I’ll stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, immediately feeling like an ass. All you needed were a few signs and you could be your own roadside attraction. Hey everyone, come to Blue Springs and see the world’s biggest asshole! Before you could even think of how to remedy the situation, the front door opened and you met your father’s eyes for the first time since you were sixteen.

He brought you upstairs, offering you both some sweet tea but no conversation, and lead you to the master bedroom. The house was exactly as you remembered it, as if it had been frozen in time once you left. Your father hesitated when he reached the door.

“I know the house ain’t changed much since you been gone,” he said, as if you’d left of your own volition, “but your ma ain’t doin’ too well. She’s been real sick, lost most of her hair. Might be a shock to ya.”

Despite the warning, seeing your mother did still shock you. She was hooked up to an IV and monitor, looking impossibly small settled into the king size bed. Her hair was gray and patchy, her skin wrinkled, but her eyes were the same when she looked at you. You wished you could say you saw love in them, but all you saw was guilt.

Bones had to pull you into the room. You watched your mother’s mouth move but the words were lost on you, your ears filled to bursting with the sound of the heart monitor. Her voice was a distant whisper like a breeze through the wheat fields. Bones checked her fluids, her temperature, her pulse, but she ignored him, reaching a hand out to you.

“Sissy’s out at work, but she’ll be coming back for dinner. Will you stay?” You took her hand. It felt like leather wrapped around glass. So much more fragile than the hand that held yours when you were a child. More fragile than the hand that hit you when your mother found out you were pregnant. It was like a cicada shell - so breakable you were afraid to move your fingers lest it crumble.

“I can’t.” You cleared your throat, struggling to keep yourself together. “We can’t. Leonard promised his family he’d visit, and we’ve only got a few days left of shore leave.” It was only half a lie. You had six days left, long enough for you to stay and for Bones to spend time with Jo.

“Oh, Leonard. Are you her husband?”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks, but Bones saved you. “Not yet, ma’am, but hopefully one day, yes. If she’ll have me.”

Of all the responses you expected, you didn’t expect your mother to laugh. “My dear, I’m sure she’d have anyone given half the chance.”

You snatched your hand back, balling both into fists. You didn't want to fight. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and you focused on the sting on your skin rather than the sting of your mother’s words. Bones noticed the shift in your behavior easily and forced your hand open, lacing your fingers together. His voice was considerably less kind than before.

“Any man’d be lucky for half the chance. Your daughter is an amazing woman and an incredible doctor. She’s saved dozens of our crewmembers. Works harder than anyone I know.”

You wondered how long Bones would have continued, but your mother broke into a coughing fit and he stopped, jumping into action. You wished you would have had the same reaction, but you felt nothing as you watched the woman in front of you shaking as cough after cough wracked her body. She wasn’t your mother. She was a stranger by her own choice.

“A doctor,” she questioned when she finally caught her breath. “Didn't know you became a doct-”

“I invited you to my graduation,” you said before she could finish. You didn’t look her in the eye. “Sissy said you told her she couldn’t come.”

Your mother sighed. She looked tired. “What do you want me to say?”

“What do I…What do I want you to say?” You tore your hand away from Leonard’s, crossing your arms again, rebuilding your last defensive wall. “I don’t know. How about we start with sorry? Sorry I was completely absent from your life. Sorry I didn’t want anything to do with you. Sorry I ruined your childhood.” “You did that all on your own.”

“I was sixteen and scared,” you yelled. “Wasn’t that punishment enough? You were my mom. You were supposed to tell me what to do.”

“And I did-”

“Telling me to go to church and confess my sins doesn’t fucking count and you know it.”

“I didn’t raise you to talk like this.”

“You didn’t raise me at all.” Your voice echoed off the walls, hitting your mother as if you’d struck her. She remained silent.

“Everything happens for a reason, sugar bear. As long as you learned your lesson.”

Your last thread of composure snapped. “Well, I didn’t. In fact, Len and I had sex in the shower this morning,” you said, leaning closer. “And we had sex in a hotel two nights ago and sex at a rest stop the day before that and as soon as we get out of here I’m gonna lay him out on the first flat surface I find and-”

Crack. Your mother brought her palm down hard across your face. Harder than you’d expected from her frail frame. It was enough to knock you into her IV stand. She tried to say something back to you, but it only came out as coughs. You froze this moment in your mind as any hope you had of reconciling faded away. As each good memory you had in this house was slowly poisoned, replaced by the hand-shaped welt now forming on your cheek.

Leonard pushed past you to your mother, helping her sit up and breathe. You took his distraction as an opportunity to slink out of the room and out of the house, not bothering to say a word to your father, who was planted firmly in front of the television, like he was in every memory you had of him. You walked, instead, to the backyard, which was overgrown with weeds now. The vegetable garden was long since rotted, but you didn’t care about the tomato plants or the old gardenia bushes. You only cared about the camellia tree.

That’s where Leonard found you, sitting on the stump with your head in your hands, shoulders shaking as you wept. All the time spent swinging on this tree - what felt like the only good memories you had as a kid - cut down to nothing. Leonard sat on the ground at your feet, laying his forehead on one of your knees, his hand on the other, and you slid to the ground next to him, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you onto his lap.

He kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Than any piece of skin he could get his hand on, trying to express without words how sorry he was for making you come here. When that didn’t slow your tears, he rubbed your back instead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, but I meant what I said about family. You’ve got me and Jim and Christine and everyone on the Enterprise lookin’ after you. It might feel like you’re alone, but I promise you you’re not. You’re never gonna be, because I’m right here and I’m never letting go.”

Bones rocked you slowly. Not humming, not speaking. Just breathing. You focused on that, trying to match your breaths to his. To the sway of his body against yours. You focused on him until everything else fell away and your breath finally caught up to you.

“Whaddya say we get out of here? Find a little diner near the Alabama Georgia border and load up on junk food. I promise I won’t tell your doctor,” he said with a wink.

You smiled weakly. “Yeah, what’s he gonna do if he finds out? Punish me?”

“No,” Bones said, stroking your cheek gently. It was still a deep red. “But he might just have to kiss it all better.”

Tags!:  @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @mysteriously-lost-forever @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art  @pabegay1 @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski 

[artificialqueens]

Pink Sandcastles Pt. 2 of 2 (Trixya) - VonChoke

Summary: Trixie Mattel is a popular YouTube travel vlogger. When she receives an invitation to stay at a resort at La Union, Philippines, she had no idea that this particular trip would help her find out what home really means.

*She’s complete!!!*

Read part 1 on Tumblr Read part 1 on AO3

“Let me get this straight,” Kim said testily on the other side of Trixie’s laptop screen the next morning. Today she had white highlighting foundation that she has not yet blended in due to Trixie’s timely interruption again. “You were invited to La Union to review the beach and the resort there, but the real reason was Katya used her resort to lure you there and get closer to you?”

“Seems like it,” Trixie huffed.

“But you just found out last night from a comment on one of Katya’s IG pics that she’s in a relationship with, your words, a gorgeous, skinny burlesque star?”

“Exactly.”

“And how did you discover this?”

“I was checking Instagram on my way back from the bathroom and the first thing I saw was Katya’s newest post. Then I read someone named Violet Chachki commented ‘miss those hands on me babe’ on it and… ugh.”

“What fucking rom-com shit are you living in?”

“Goddamnit I know right!” she almost yelled, burying her face on her hands. “I didn’t even know she was flirting with me since VidCon and I don’t know if I might have accidentally flirted back!”

Kim snorted. “You dense idiot,” she said. There was a beat of silence and then, “So what are you going to do about it?” Another pause. “Have you guys talked yet?”

Trixie sighed, brushing back a pink strand away from her mouth. “Not yet.” As she said it, a notification lit up her phone’s screen. It was one of eight she has not replied to yet. “Katya’s uh… inviting me to brunch. She said she’s serving pancakes and a full explanation.”

Hopefully the whole story instead of the basic gist she was served last night; After Katya’s quiet confession that she was in a long distance relationship with another (way more gorgeous) person, Trixie felt completely embarrassed for believing she was getting to the big time for having someone personally invite her, all expenses paid, to another country for a free stay at their resort because she delivered quality YouTube content. Looking around at the silent group around her, she felt deeply mortified that they probably knew that Katya had taken a huge amount of effort to basically get some pussy. She wasn’t even someone worth seducing, what the hell? Her pride in her work was hurt so she quickly faked an upset stomach, excused herself, and ran back to her room.

“I really don’t know what to do, Kim,” she groaned.

“Well,” Kim said slowly. “How do you feel about Katya?”

Trixie dug deep into her mind. She and Katya well… clicked. Like two hurricanes merging into one destructive force. She does like Katya as a friend, but realizes that she knows nothing else behind the macabre and filthy humor and wide smile. Come to think of it, what sort of place does the dark humor come from?

“I… care for her,” Trixie finally said. “As a great friend. Other than that, I don’t know anything else about her. We don’t talk much about our past. Because when we’re together, it’s like… nothing else matters? I don’t even think about my own shit. I forget everything and only enjoy my time with her.” She locked eyes with Kim. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Ehhhh yeah,” said Kim. “But that’s probably a good place to start.”

“I’m going to meet her for brunch, aren’t I?” Trixie said, looking lost. “Because I really don’t know what else to do.”

“Come up with a list,” the Asian girl prompted whenever a friend needed direction. “Three things.”

“Okay,” Trixie breathed, sitting up. “One, talk to Katya. Two, decide what to do from there. And three… Oh right fuck. Vlog.”

“That’s a plan.” Kim smiled.

“It’s a plan. Thanks Kim, I’ll see you around.”

After disconnecting the call, Trixie sat back on her chair and allowed her mind to wander out the window. What exactly does she want with Katya? She wasn’t even sure if she wanted a relationship right now with all the traveling she’s planning on doing. During the day, she can freely say that she is self-sufficient and can hold her own without anyone by her side.

But midnight is a different story. Whenever Trixie lays on her pillow to sleep, her caged heart roams free. Like any other lonely person, they’ll never admit that she secretly cries out for a companion and longs to relate to love songs. The yearning filled her with agony sometimes, but she bears with it as she knows it’ll pass the moment she falls asleep. When she goes on through her day, Trixie no longer takes the time to dwell on wanting a romantic partner. Her desire of having someone to kiss and to take care of are buried under a modern day woman’s sensibilities.

She can do this. She’s old enough to know what she wants and which of Katya’s bullshit she’s not willing to put up with.

—————————

“Salamat po,” Trixie quietly thanked the waiter in Tagalog, something Jiggly taught her last night, for laying out her breakfast plate and orange juice in front of her. Across her, Katya had a coffee, a fluffy pastry, an orange, and a cigarette. She too looked anxious.

Trixie ate quietly, using the food as an excuse not to talk first. She didn’t make eye contact, instead looked out to the view of the ocean. When a breeze picked up, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I really like your hair,” Katya finally said, getting her attention. Smiling, she added, “It’s like catnip for pussies.”

That seemed to break the ice wall between them. Trixie stared at her for a second in bewilderment and let out a snort and giggle of amusement. She did get a lot of lesbian attention online for her hair. In return, Katya laughed with relief at the reaction and let herself relax. She can do this.

“So… I owe you an apology. I guess wasn’t honest with you in the beginning,” she said.

“Really, you guess?”

“Shut up, Toby, let me be real for once,” Katya said, smirking. Continuing, she stared at a point above her as she gathered her words succinctly. “I… was already interested after we met at VidCon. I wanted to keep what we had going but I didn’t because life happened.”

She waved a hand at the building behind her. “The resort opened and I became extremely busy. Then when I watched your latest Japan vlog, I thought you looked so beautiful and happy and… I kind of missed you? Then I talked to Sasha, we thought that I should invite you here to Elyu so we could… talk more and the rest was history.”

Trixie nodded. Time for her to speak. “I guess I was… hurt. And embarrassed.” To Katya’s subtle questioning expression, she carried on in softer tones. “I thought you invited me here because I make great travel vlogs and wanted the best for your resort.”

“Oh mama, you are the best,” said Katya sincerely as she leaned forward. “I checked out all your videos after we met at VidCon and those are the five pinkest hours of my life I cannot get back.” She was relieved when Trixie let out a trill of giggles. “I’m really sorry for embarrassing you. That wasn’t my intention. I thought this was going to be a great way of getting to know you better but yeah, that was probably a dumb idea.”

“Not entirely,” Trixie said. She looked out to the ocean sparkling under the sun and the carefree shouts of other tourists and breathed it all in. She felt the distance from her drafty little apartment in Chicago stretch all the way here, a sunny and spacious bliss while sitting across a woman who found her weirdness worth the effort to be around.

She held her breath before letting out, “And Violet?”

Lowering her cigarette, Katya gave a small sad smile. “She was on vacation here when we met. It’s an open relationship because she’s always on tour with her troupe and I’m just here. I thought was okay in the beginning because I’m like seven different shades of fucked up and wasn’t sure I could fully commit. Now I don’t know if I should let her go or stay with her cause it was my fucking idea in the first place to ask for more. And god, there were the drugs…”

“Drugs?” This was the first time Trixie heard Katya talk seriously about drugs. She mostly chalked it to her dark humor and never thought it came from a real, scary place. “Oh wow, I didn’t know. I’m sorry I thought you’ve only been joking about those.”

“I wasn’t joking, bitch,” Katya laughed without humor and began peeling her orange. “Although… I do hate being serious all the time. I can’t take life too seriously anymore, otherwise I get sucked back in to the dark.”

“Oh yeah I totally get it. Joking as a coping mechanism. Oh honey, did you have an abusive step-dad too?” Trixie said in her driest tone.

Katya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, looking as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “W-well, no. I was raised by a team of greasy Taco Bell employees who took me in when I was young,” she said seriously.

“What?” Trixie gaped. How did that even happ—oh, she was kidding. She glared at Katya wheezing in laughter and slapping her knee. “You bitch, I almost believed that,” she cried out, joining her in the hilarity.

“Hidden talent,” Katya cackled. “I swear I am able to drop into the pain of my personal experiences so effortlessly that allows people to believe in my bullshit.”

“Now I’m doubting this entire conversation,” Trixie sniffed before Katya quickly shook her head and sobered up.

“Oh no no, I’m not. Sorry, that’s on me. I need to say something stupid before I get into any serious topics.” She cleared her throat before speaking again. “I’m sorry you had to go through… that. Are you good now?”

Trixie leaned back into her chair and nodded, drawing her eyes downwards. “Yeah, I’m good. I don’t talk about him anymore.” She sighed, letting the moment breathe before bringing the topic back on track. “So, uh… Violet.”

“Right, yeah, Violet,” Katya sadly said. Steeling herself, she continued, “So I thought I was okay with the distance because I believed that Violet didn’t deserve me, didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve to deal with my problems on top of her touring schedule, airport drama, hotel conflama…”

“So why were you hitting on me then? Why are you still together?” Trixie made an effort to keep her voice steady. Her heart was already smarting for being in the position of ‘second choice’.

“I don’t know. I guess cause you’re you,” Katya said. There was a screwed up expression on her face as she battled her frustrations. “You get my psycho humor. I fall over from your wit. I like who I am around you. And… I’m still with Vi because I’m a fucking coward.

“Do you see the irony, Trix? I hate myself and believe that she doesn’t deserve me, yet I’m still with her because of the stupid fucking hope that she doesn’t see me the same way I see myself.” She drew a breath before continuing, “Would you honestly have given me a chance if I wasn’t with her?” She made a move to grasp Trixie’s hand in sincerity but the younger girl pulled away, frowning. It wasn’t fair that the ball was in her court now.

“Katya, I don’t think you should break it off with Violet just for me if you still want to stay with her,” Trixie slowly said, acknowledging the disappointed expression on Katya’s face. “Plus, I’m only getting to know you a little better now, so I can’t say yet.”

“You’re right.” Katya nodded in understanding, leaning back and sucking on her cigarette. “I’ve been a fucking idiot about this whole thing.”

“Absolutely, yeah.” Trixie’s familiar dry tone was back and it brought a smile to Katya’s face. “Inviting me to a beautiful tropical paradise to seduce the panties off me.” She shrugged. “I’ve had worst dates.”

“I have some work to be done today, but I’ll make it up to you tonight. And I can take you sightseeing tomorrow,” said Katya, sipping her coffee. “So, friends?” She tilted her chin up as she held out her cup. Trixie picked up her half full glass and clinked it.

“Friends.” It was a clean slate to start off from and that she can manage.

—————————

The rest of Trixie’s day was spent outside with camera work where she took more aerial shots of the beach with her drone and the gorgeous people surfing the ocean. She got into work mode as she checked if her “light” and “natural” makeup was still in place to give an on-camera narrative of the authentic and cultured peaceful ambiance of Elyu. She also made sure to get some playful shots for her Instagram Stories.

On her itinerary was to visit and feature Phi Phi’s speakeasy bar on her vlog. While the sun was setting, she made sure to get shots of the tasteful artwork hanging on the walls and interviewed Phi Phi about her collections.

“I love collecting artworks that were made by visitors here at Elyu. Take a look at this. It’s my newest piece. Sasha made it,” said Phi Phi, pointing out a contemporary graphic design of a crown, red lips, and a unibrow. To its right, an abstract piece composed of turquoise, bronze, and gold brush strokes hung near the door. “That one was made by Katya. She said she was inspired by the view of the sea from her office and how it helped relieve some of her anxiety.”

Trixie aimed her camera at the paintings. Through the lens, she stared hard as though hoping to learn something new about the way Katya’s mind worked. She thought she discerned a hopeful beauty and some sort of sadness from the colors and the strokes.

Next she visited Ongina’s place, a small eatery that served a variety of Filipino dishes. Taking the vegetarian option, Trixie dined on sweet and savory marinated fried tofu with green beans. She washed it down with a soda while taking down notes about the place.

“So, have you and Katya talked yet?” Ongina said, leaning her forearms on the counter.

Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “Why is everybody bringing up Katya today?” she said. Ongina shrugged.

“You girls seem close. It would be a shame if your friendship got permanently ruined after last night,” she said while wiping down the bar counter and taking away Trixie’s clean plate. “And it’s nice seeing her in a different mood that wasn’t lovable bitch.”

“So what the hell is she now?” said Trixie after another bubbly sip.

“Still a lovable bitch, but we don’t want to punch her this time,” Ongina said breezily. The pink haired vlogger squawked gracelessly.

Lastly, Trixie took up Jiggly’s offer of a tour of her brightly colored hostel. It was simple in its accommodations yet a favorite for bigger groups that came to visit for its rustic bunk beds and kitschy wall decors. As Jiggly gestured her arms dramatically towards the building, she declared, “Do you know who stayed here for months the first time she was here?”

Trixie snorted. “If the answer is Katya, I’m leaving,” she said dryly. Jiggly was taken aback and dropped her arms. Trixie was about to regret her sass when the hostel owner burst into booming laughter.

“H-how did you know?” she squealed. Trixie grinned apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude… It’s just that everyone has mentioned her name to me so many times today, I’m starting to get a little suspicious,” she said sheepishly. Jiggly got around to coughing herself into composure and smiled a little guiltily.

“Have we been that obvious?” she asked a little meekly, patting her long straight hair into place.

Trixie nodded. She turned away to look at the hostel with the intention to hide her smirk from Jiggly. She didn’t want to give her and the other girls the satisfaction of knowing that their big plan to keep Katya fresh in Trixie’s mind all day kind of fucking worked.

—————————

The sun had long given away its stunning strokes of orange and yellows clouds, setting a blanket of dusky purple and blue over the beach. Katya had invited Trixie out to a post-dinner walk along the dimly lit beach. It was peaceful, Trixie had thought. Her bare toes enjoyed the feel of the fine sand, something she was not able to tolerate under the heat. There was something to be said about connecting with nature by listening to the waves move in its natural that could melt away the city stress. She glanced sideways at Katya’s profile, admiring the shape of her nose and how her skin looked luminous among the smoke of her cigarette escaping from red lips. It was quite the vision Trixie wanted to capture for her own self and never release such beauty to the world. She contemplated how some people compare themselves to the sun, fiery and outgoing, and how their veiled eyes see the other as the quiet beauty of the moon.

The sea and the sky kissed and blew out a cold breeze that smelled of the salty ocean. Trixie shivered.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

“No ma’am. I always stay warm from the fire in my pussy,” Katya replied, grinning proudly around her stick. This earned a Trixie-screech that scandalously broke the tranquil air. There was a beat of silence after she had composed herself that Katya eventually ended.

“Trixie,” she began. “You know why I stayed here?”

“Why?”

“Three years ago, I spent almost all of my savings to check myself into rehab. I had a psychotic mental breakdown that my own parents had to call the police on me because I was running buttfuck naked out of the house.” There was a solemnity in the way Katya spoke about this that Trixie had to stare, wondering if the woman was dead serious or not again.

Katya then opened up about her struggle with drug addiction to a length that she had to light up another cigarette. Trixie held on to every word, determined to better understand her history. Rehab was successful, although the relapses never went away, they were easier to manage.

“So when I got here, it was so different from the city and the suburbs and for the first time in fucking history… My mind went quiet.” She gestured a flatline across her forehead before turning to Trixie. “Have you ever been to a place, in all of your travels, where it felt like all the noise just goes away?”

Trixie smiled with nostalgia. Blue and white villages came to her mind as she remembered the smell of warm flaky pies in the afternoon. “Yeah… It was my third trip, I think. Greece. Like I took off my earphones because I didn’t need the music to stop the noise in my head.”

“I never intended to hang around for long,” Katya continued as she nodded, inhaling her stick. “But I met Karl and Sasha, and we struck a deal together. Made it work. I invested in a share of the resort and it felt like I had purpose again. Also, the locals here? Oh mama, they know how to live life properly.” Trixie nodded silently. She could tell Katya was off to a long ramble by the way her hands began to gesture wildly to punctuate and to emphasize. She found herself not wanting to cease the stream of its course.

“But what I absolutely loved was the people that came to this place. I love the stories they told, I love talking to people, did you know that? Oh my god, the things they’ve seen, all their dreams and fears and shit…

“And then they leave. It’s like reading an anthology. I provided strangers an ear or advice. Sometimes I couldn’t help them and that’s a-okay. It’s like… I get to be the fixed point in their journey where I get to answer some lifelong questions. There were so many lives I learned about—remind me to tell you about Craig, he’s the bestest when it comes to movies—and it’s fucking redonkulous how everything we want in life is rooted to just wanting to be loved. Like in all our searching, the meaning of life comes from each other.”

Trixie folded her arms in contemplation. If travel taught her anything, the most memorable places weren’t about the sights or the food, it was about how open the locals were to connecting with foreigners.

Katya sighed. “And yet, I’m just here.” She waved a vague hand over the beach. “I’ve been here for a long while now and sometimes I feel lost myself. Or cut off from the rest of the world.” She grabbed Trixie’s hand and looked at her straight in the eye. “I’m sorry again for not telling you why I wanted you here. The loneliness was becoming unbearable and everything was empty and my head was becoming chaotic… I think that’s why I contacted you.”

“Maybe you need a new home?” suggested Trixie.

“I think I’ll find home on my own terms,” Katya replied softly.

Trixie frowned in confusion over Katya’s choice of words. What did she mean to ‘find home in her own terms’? In all of her travels, all the places she has visited and documented, has she ever found what home really means? Yet there was something familiar with Katya, in her words, in the scene she described here on the beach, looking out to the horizon—

“BITCH!” Trixie shrieked all of a sudden, stopping her tracks and startling Katya. “WAS THAT CONVERSATION ABOUT THE ‘CONTACT’ BEACH SCENE?!”

She received confirmation when Katya doubled over and began rolling over the sand in soundless laughter, nodding in glee. Trixie stomped away before she could wrap her fingers around her friend’s throat. She yelled that she was going back to her room, leaving Katya to pick herself up when she was done. She wanted to believe that Katya was bullshitting about everything, doubt her sincerity, but deep inside she understood. The search for love is life’s greatest trial that many leave messages to the universe, hoping to hear that they aren’t meant to be alone forever.

Trixie turned to look back the same moment Katya did. It could have been a passing nanosecond fancy, but Trixie swore to the stars above that she felt the phrase “I’m falling for Katya” shake her core. It was a strange feeling, she imagined, to experience a possible concept transition into powerful words. And it made the whole situation scarier now as it was one step closer to solidifying into reality.

She waited for the sense of hopeless despair she usually felt when she catches feelings for someone, but it never came. Instead she felt a glow filling her chest, a thrill that zipped through her nerves and made her gasp softly in surprise at how quick these sensations engulfed her. How does one stand by the ocean and feel like drowning? How does falling for someone feel like flying?

Their eye contact was broken by Katya sheepishly looking away, as though she had realized she had been staring too much. She lit up another cigarette.

“Your an idiot,” Trixie finally said into the silence.

“Yes and?” said Katya, smiling a little.

“And I said ‘you’re’ without the apostrophe r e.”

Katya gasped, eyes sparkling once again in mirth. “You take that back, you uncultured, illiterate, wretched heathen!”

Trixie began to walk back to the direction of the resort, calling over her shoulder with a playful laugh, “You deserve it!”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Katya hollered, following her footsteps. “How dare yo—this changes everything I feel about you.” Trixie stopped in her tracks and so did her heart. She arched an eyebrow until Katya caught up with her.

“And how exactly do you feel about me?”

Katya blew out a cloud of smoke, appraising her friend for a beat while smirking. Trixie momentarily glanced at her rose red lips that doesn’t blossom open as much as it caterwauled inelegantly throughout the open space that probably needs to be ticketed for disturbing the peace. She could feel the anticipation stretching out, wondering what Katya was going to admit to her under the moon and stars… until the bitch simply winked and sashayed away.

The next morning, Trixie woke up early to catch Vivienne’s surfing lessons. It was a struggle to get out of bed that Trixie had to remind herself that her surfing lesson was also for the vlog. She grabbed her camera that was on her bed side, turned it on, and grumbled into it.

“Hey guys, it’s five in the morning and I have a surfing lesson today.” She rubbed her bleary eyes. “If you like watching me fail at stuff, keep watching because this might be my last video before I drown myself. Or get snacked on by a shark, whichever comes first.”

She turned off the camera and got up. She stretches hard before slowly encasing herself in a long sleeved blue and pink wetsuit that cut off inches above the knee over her swimwear. She met Vivienne right outside the resort, who energetically waved at her in contrast to Trixie’s sleep fuzzy brain. Her wild wavy black hair was tied up in a high bun and Trixie’s brain seemed to jolt awake up at the view of her abs above a pair of black shorts that covered half of her thick thighs. Good morning indeed.

Three hours later of learning the basics and trying to balance on the surfboard, the sun rays were soft and beautiful over the sparkling water and Vivienne’s morena skin. The teacher and student now sat on a low stone barrier facing the shore as Trixie was catching her breath from the session.

She unstrapped the camera from her surfboard. “I had just finished my first surfing lesson here with Vivienne, who is the most patient and wonderful woman to ever teach my ungraceful, clumsy ass,” Trixie said into it. Vivienne waved and smiled as Trixie affectionately laid her stringy wet head on her shoulder.

“She was a natural,” Vivienne said.

“Am I?”

“At wiping out.”

“Bitch,” Trixie laughed. She then gave a narrative of her first time on the board, how she was worried about slipping and hitting her head underwater, and how much fun she had learning despite catching not a single wave. She jumped off the stone barrier to focus her camera for a gratuitous shot of Vivienne’s enviable curves and abs, which she thought deserved a whole post of its own. Vivienne modestly giggled at the attention. Trixie was about to launch into a litany of worship of Vivienne’s hard work when a pair of wide gray eyes suddenly filled the frame. Trixie jumped back with a surprised yelp. “Katya!”

“Morning! I was watching you whores all morning,” she cackled. She was wearing her sunglasses on her head, black shorts, and a red floral silk shirt that had the sleeves folded up to the bicep and the front casually unbuttoned only halfway through, exposing bare cleavage. To cap off Trixie’s raging lesbian fantasies, Katya had her shirt in a French tuck and a motorcycle helmet dangling off her hand. Trixie gaped. The sight was all together stunning and was all too much for one morning.

Vivienne eventually broke the staring contest with laughter and hopped down the barrier to cheek kiss Katya. She gave Katya’s outfit a one over, checked Trixie’s reaction, and winked at the blonde before enveloping Trixie in a proud hug. “I’ll see you girls later! You did a good job today, Trixie.”

“T-thanks Vivienne!” Trixie said, returning the hug and waved as she walked away, picking up Trixie’s rented surfboard along the way. That view was looking good too.

“So,” Katya coughed. “How was it?”

“Hmm? Oh! It was great! I mean I wasn’t that great, but I had fun,” Trixie said in a giddy rush, glancing back at Katya.

There was something sexy about feeling the rush of adrenaline in the early morning and being under the control of someone very attractive in something as temperamental as the ocean. Looking into Katya’s eyes, aglow with the morning rays of light, filled her heart with something that felt like promise and care. Emboldened by her own high spirits, Trixie held eye contact while she unzipped her wetsuit to reveal underneath a green and white polka dotted bikini with a high waist bottom that accentuated her hips. With her pink hair, it was a whole watermelon fantasy and Katya’s raised eyebrows and unbridled smile was the cherry on top. As Trixie walked back to the resort, she called over her shoulder and extended her hand, “Are you coming for breakfast?”

Between two potential lovers, it’s most often that the palms kiss first before the lips do. It was as if Trixie had held out a magnet, and Katya’s own body responded like it were cold hard steel. Her feet quickly shuffled forward as her arm immediately extended to accept the invitation of Trixie’s hand. Both girls discreetly blushed at the new words their bodies just learned and intertwined their fingers together. And neither had let up until they got to their breakfast table.

————

Trixie sighed before sipping her late night cup of coffee at Velour’s. The sun had set, the beach’s nightlife was awake, and here she was waiting for Sasha to finish helping her staff with a large order so she could talk. Tonight, Sasha was wearing glitter red lipstick, an artful eyeshadow, and fake freckles across her nose. The whole look seemed to brighten up the ambiance of the cafe.

“What’s the occasion?” Trixie asked, nodding at the patterned outfit appreciatively as Sasha gracefully took a seat across hers.

“Art gallery viewing at Phi Phi’s. The gallery is called ‘Press and Play: Movement in Flow’. Would you like to come? I’m also hoping to meet potential business partners to expand the cafe,” Sasha replied. Even the way she crossed her legs were elegant. Trixie shook her head in regret.

“I can’t. I have to work on the vlog before I leave tomorrow, see if there’s a scene I might have forgotten to shoot,” she said.

“That’s right, it’s your last night here,” Sasha said in somber tones. “So what did you do today? Vivi told me you went surfing this morning.”

Trixie lit up as she recounted the rest of her day; Katya had taken her on a historical sightseeing tour via her motorcycle. As she spoke of the old churches and an old watch tower leftover from the Spanish occupation era, memories of tightly clinging to Katya’s midsection as the latter’s motorcycle zoomed down almost empty roads surfaced to her mind’s forefront. While she was describing the grape field Katya took her to, she thought of the way the light dappled on the older woman’s face underneath the grape vine leaves and forced her to stop moving so she could take a photo. When she told Sasha about the delicious dinner they had of burgers (hers a vegetarian option) and iced tea on the second floor of a beach front restaurant, all she could think about was how the sound of the waves crashing became the soundtrack of Katya’s wildest life stories, ranging from serious topics about her battle with drug abuse to the nasty and hilarious one of how she had once shat on her friend Courtney’s bed.

She remembered how she had wanted to hold Katya’s hand again while they were walking but chickened out, so she compensated by leaning her head on her shoulder while they rested. Or she swears that Katya had been staring because when she looked back, Katya quickly turned her head to the other direction. She recalled shivering whenever Katya leaned in closely to whisper something in her ear.

This woman had no shame in her being. Her unfiltered words, her animated expressions with her freedom to be. It enamored Trixie. Like the ocean they were facing, she felt unlimited. In that moment, she believed that a lot of things didn’t matter anymore just as long Katya kept her eyes bright with her enthusiasm of discussing whatever topic came to her head.

“Trixie?” Sasha punctured her thoughts. “Trixie, are you okay?”

“I think I like her,” Trixie said simply after a long pause. Sasha raised her eyebrows and her mouth fell open in delight.

“Do you really?” she gushed.

“I do.” Trixie smiled bashfully, glancing at Sasha’s little head tilt of interest.

“Have you told Katya that?” she said, chuckling.

Trixie nodded. “I did. She was talking about… God, I can’t remember now… But it was about something and she was stuttering like an idiot, trying to get her words right and… I just laughed. And when she asked what was I laughing at, I was like ‘Nothing, I just really like you.’”

Sasha gave a little gleeful gasp and a grin that stretched all the way across her face. “And then what did she say??”

Trixie shrugged, grinning. “She looked shocked, then happy. Like really happy.”

“Sooo what happens now?” Sasha prompted. She delicately laid her chin on the back of her hand and patiently waited for an answer. Trixie huffed, glancing at the shore as though hoping the answer to that would walk by.

“I don’t know…” she sighed. “Whatever I say to her, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m leaving tomorrow. Plus, she’s still with Violet so it’s not like my feelings are going to matter, doesn’t it?”

“Oh I think it will. Where is Katya anyway?”

“Her office. Said she had some business to get done first,” said Trixie. She finished the last sip of her coffee and was about to take out her wallet to pay when Sasha waved it off.

“On the house,” she said, smirking at Trixie’s surprise. “It’s your last night here and you’ve made my friend very happy these past few days. Just promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Tell Katya your truth.”

Trixie sighed. “But I’m not sure what is the truth…” she said. Sasha waved a finger.

“No. Not the truth,” she repeated. “Your truth.”

———

It was nearing midnight. The rest of her evening had been spent answering emails and sorting through her pictures and videos from the time she left the airport to the latest ones she took earlier today. She organized them by day and sub-labeled them by activity, knowing full well that if she did this after she got home, she’d be too exhausted to even start it. For the first time in her travel history, she made a new folder for one person.

Trixie rubbed her eyes from underneath her glasses. She knew she had snapped Katya in more artful shots, but she hadn’t realize just how much she took all in all. There was one from her first night with Katya’s other friends drinking, and she used the light nearby to give Katya an almost noir look with the wispy cigarette between her fingers. Scrolling down, she perused a goofy one of Katya; jaw wide open in mid-shriek and her eyes squinted close. She forgot the joke that was said but she can almost hear the breathless wheezing laughter coming from the picture.

The last one took her breath away, the one from the grape field. The shadows of the leaves played around her face and to her chest as her lips were closed around a grape. Trixie shook her head, trying to fight off her bubbling feelings for the woman she was going to leave tomorrow.

It was truly better off they stay friends, Trixie was thinking. The spaces in her mind cautiously played out a daydream, one where she imagined being Katya’s girlfriend, holding hands with her and traveling the world together. It was a pleasant feeling, knowing that someone will always be there to fly alongside with her. But the moment she imagined kissing Katya, she could feel herself flush and quickly shut the daydream down. It was way too good. Reality was going to be a bitch to face had she let it play out.

Trixie heard knocking on her door. Her gut already told her who was on the other side as she swung the door open. She was right.

“Hi. Can I come in?” Katya asked softly, hands tucked inside the pockets of her shorts. Trixie blinked. The first thing that drew her eyes in was the way Katya’s red lipstick framed her slightly open mouth. Next she noticed how her dark, smoky eyes lined a beseeching expression that was cautiously asking to be let in. She was still wearing her mouth-watering casual clothes from earlier and her dirty blonde hair seemed as though a hand had ran through it several times. Trixie minutely chased the thoughts away and opened the door wider to let her in.

The room was a little tossed up with most of her electronic and camera gear on the desk and half folded clothes and shoes on the bed. A hot pink empty suitcase sat nearby the window. Trixie apologized for the mess and quickly straightened up her things, explaining that she had been meaning to pack but needed to work while she was still inspired. Katya silently nodded as she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes darting around the corners of the room. Once she was done fixing, Trixie leaned against the table with her arms lightly folded over the pink with white “TRAVEL BARBIE” lettering cropped hoodie she was wearing. Both women said nothing. There was a new charged energy in the room, an anticipation as thick as molasses. It was possible that something could happen in the next five minutes, and Trixie couldn’t find the right words to break the tension.

“Trixie—”

“Katya—”

The both giggled. “You first,” Trixie said, smiling.

“Right, here I go.” Katya returned the smile quickly before huffing out a breath. “I just… want to thank you for accepting my invitation in the beginning. Sorry I was weird and I hope you still had a comfortable stay at my resort. If there’s anything else I can help you with, I’d be glad to do it for you.” Trixie nodded, her expression serious.

“I had a really great time here, despite being seduced by a Sugar Mommy. I’ll send you my therapy bills, you fucking cougar,” she quipped dryly, causing Katya to squint in breathless laughter and to flail her legs over the bed. “You are like, what? 57?”

“That fucking pink hair—I knew you didn’t strike me as the type who, you know, actually works hard for her money,” Katya wheezed through her laughter. Trixie’s mouth dropped in fake outrage.

“Oh bitch excuse me, I built my vlog with hard work. But if I wanted a Sugar Mommy to pay for everything, I could’ve gotten one.”

“Because you are what? Poor.” A teasing grin splayed across Katya’s face. Trixie felt the shade dive deep all the way to her childhood in rural Milwaukee and shrieked in laughter. Katya then rolled around the bed to her favorite sound and bizarrely ended up in a pose with one leg stretched in to the air. They felt more at ease now with humor introduced into the serious conversation.

Then Katya decided to stab the atmosphere with her own knife. “Oh and by the way I also broke up with Violet.”

“You what?!” Trixie gasped, her laugh halting to a screeching stop. Of all the dumb decisions—

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Katya said quickly, sitting back up on the bed. “I Skyped her awhile ago and we talked for hours. I told her the truth and… well, she wasn’t happy with it.” Trixie meant to interrupt but Katya held out both her hands. “But-but she also couldn’t promise me when she’s coming back home here. Or I’m not sure if she wants to call this place a home… Do you know how hard it is to buy rhinestones in this country?” She snorted humorlessly. Trixie shook her head, but deep inside she understood what Katya was implying. Based on their conversation the night before, she realized she was looking for a place to call home too. And she wasn’t talking about four walls and a roof.

“But Katya… I’m leaving too,” Trixie said almost angrily. Why did Katya have to love those who has to leave her? It wasn’t fair. She folded her arms again. “I don’t know if I can come back here. Or if you can even leave your resort.” Or, Trixie didn’t want to verbalize, if she could manage her travel vlog career from a different country just to be with Katya. It was her greatest passion and she would not give it up that easily. Traveling made her whole and she wanted to be a complete being for whoever she will give her heart to.

“I know, I know,” Katya said, grinning mischievously that, Trixie had learned, preceded a heartfelt comment. It was her defense mechanism in play when she was about to reveal a deeply vulnerable truth. “But it doesn’t matter. Wherever you’re going next, so does my home.”

The weight of the words sank in between the silence and flowered out to fill the room. Trixie’s mouth fell open and she couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her neck. Katya had just handed Trixie a part of her to carry around in all her future travels as she acknowledged that the resort was no longer considered her home. Katya lowered her head, if it was possible, in dignified embarrassment.

“Okay,” Trixie began, breaking the silence. Time to let the feelings out. “Again, I really had a nice time here. And I don’t mind having your batshit ass around.” She lowered her eyes. “I like talking with you and I think you’re one of the strongest persons I know because you’ve had shitty stuff happen to you before but you never became an asshole because of it. You’re like, really fucking smart and hard working and really good to people… and… uh…” She swallowed. There was no going back now after this. “You’d definitely have a chance. With me. If you’d still like.”

Katya’s gaze softened as she looked up to her favorite person. “All I need is one chance. Just one,” she said, standing up from the bed to meet Trixie’s eyes in all seriousness. Trixie inhaled sharply and too stepped forward, charmingly towering over Katya’s sinewy frame. The air thickened and all it takes is one move to push things to no return. Who will make the move?

“Trixie Mattel, I’m not going to let you leave this resort until I kiss you.”

Trixie’s brain short-circuited as her eyes glazed over. It was whispered so softly had she not been a breath away from Katya, she would not have caught it. “Where?” she teased lightly, buying herself some time to breathe from the situation. A shark like expression erupted from Katya’s face.

“You brat.” She smirked, eyes sparkling. She continued, “On your cheek. Or your fingertips. It doesn’t fucking matter. Wherever you want. That would be enough.” Trixie pulled back ever so slightly to stare at the small genuine smile on her face. There was a rare sincerity to Katya’s voice that wasn’t suffixed by a guffaw and melted her heart.

Trixie hesitantly turned her head to the side to hold her cheek out, allowing. As Katya slowly moved closer, Trixie caught a whiff of the ocean, smoke, and perfume. The twist of scents rapidly triggered her brain to overload with picturesque memories. In the full space of a second, her universe was filled with the smell of the seaside from her balcony at night time, moments of staring from the back of the motorcycle at Katya’s glistening neck that probably tasted like saltwater, and the sensual wisp of cigarette smoke emitting from between her fingers over a hearty laugh. If this is what caused Trixie to change her mind, she had no regrets about turning her head to meet her lips with Katya’s at the last millisecond.

All of Trixie’s thoughts quieted, died down, but such as nuclear explosions do, her brain went from white blank to exploding into colorful chaos. It didn’t feel like the simple action of two lips meeting, but a pull towards the being that is Katya. She decided that lips weren’t enough physical contact so she wrapped her arms around Katya’s neck, bringing her home. The older woman, who had frozen in surprise, immediately pushed Trixie against the edge of table, closing the space between their hips. Trixie could feel the heat spread throughout her entire body from the pleasurable delight of being trapped against a solid object with only a pair of well-manicured hands on her waist holding her down.

Her leg slowly moved up to Katya’s calves and rested over her ass, pulling in to lessen the distance, if there was any left possible, and to anchor herself against the storm. Katya groaned, losing her fucking mind over the eroticism of her right pelvis pressed against the apex of Trixie’s thighs. She deliciously squeezed said fleshy thigh, feeling the soft, smooth skin and roundness that was uniquely woman. Trixie gasped at the sensation. Her hands began to roam as she lowered her raised leg to meet Katya’s fingers, which slid down from her thighs to clutch the back of her knee. Trixie inhaled sharply and her breathing grew shallower when Katya thrust her tongue inside her mouth and, at the same time, cleverly moved her middle finger up and down, and circling rhythmically, over the crease of Trixie’s bent knee, a female version of stroking a guy’s finger with a promise of the real thing coming soon. With little left to the imagination of where this was headed, she pulled away from Katya with a loud moan.

Both women stared at each other, breathing heavily, wide eyes searching for any sign, any hint, that they’re going to be okay. That this terrifying and exhilarating feeling was okay. With the help of the bright harsh light of her room, Trixie’s eyes hungrily took in Katya’s swollen wet red-smudged lips, dark blown out pupils, mussed up blouse exposing one shoulder and a nipple, and dirty blonde hair that she had definitely grabbed with her own hands. And Trixie thought she was the ravished one.

Katya let go of Trixie’s knee, lifting her fingertips up to the younger girl’s cheek, wordlessly asking if they could go further. She felt a shock throughout her entire body when Trixie gently pushed her away and walked to the door. Katya felt her heart drop all the way to the bottom of her stomach, believing that she had made an absolutely huge mistake and that Trixie was going kick her out of the room and tell her that she didn’t want this, that she was too old for her, and deserves way better than a former drug addict. She could feel her throat choking up, was about to wrap her arms around her stomach, until Trixie simply switched off the lights and bathed them both in moonlight from the window.

———

The sun was high and bright at mid-afternoon. The rented car sped past small bungalow houses, rice fields, traffic laden highways, to a bustling city, and soon, they would be at the Clark International Airport. Trixie was curled against Katya’s body almost the entire ride. It wasn’t much of a difference in position of how they woke up that morning, especially with Katya stroking Trixie’s cotton candy hair as dawn’s light seeped through the window. Verbal promises were whispered all night as the non-verbal ones were kissed onto naked skin. It was as though Katya wanted to soon fill Trixie’s heart with something before the painful absence sets in between them hours from now.

“I wish I could stay,” Trixie said quietly. The car was in the same city now as the airport and she could feel the hourglass sand running low with her remaining time.

“I wish you would,” said Katya, continuing to stroke Trixie’s hair before giving it a kiss. “But you have a life of your own.”

Trixie sat up, suddenly filled with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to be one of those who leaves you again—”

“Don’t be.”

“I want to keep you.”

Katya struggled for an answer to that one. Coming up with nothing, she could only gather the younger girl back into her arms so she would not see the stray tear she was wiping away.

With her head against Katya’s chest, Trixie traced the tattoos on her forearm from where her sleeve has rode up. “What does this one mean to you?” she quietly said to the left one. “Is it a Tarot card?”

Katya nodded. “The Fool,” she answered. “New beginnings, naivety, leap of faith.”

“And this is Death?” Trixie glanced at the other arm.

“Yep. It means change, mortality, letting go…” Katya glanced down to meet her eyes. “It, uh, depends on which side you see them. Things can change their meanings if you look at it in another way, you know?”

There was a moment of silence as the two women stared at each other. The car was pulling into the airport’s security checkpoint and they both felt time starting to slip away quickly. “You know what’s one thing I lo–like about you?” Trixie said, staring straight into her gray eyes, trying not to give away that she almost slipped. “You absolutely have no filter. You are so free to be yourself. Don’t ever change that.”

Katya’s mischievous smile returned. “So why does it feel like I’m the one trapped here?” she said.

“Come with me,” Trixie blurted out. She regretted it immediately, thinking how much she sounded like a child. “I mean…” Her words were hushed with a kiss.

“Let’s just see which back alley life takes us before it fucks us up, okay?” Katya whispered to her lips then grinning. They finally pulled up to Departure. Katya helped her with her suitcases and other bags before she was unable to take it and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I can’t wait for the video,” Katya said into her ear. “You’ve always been so talented with storytelling and a camera. Remember that’s also why I brought you here.” Trixie nodded into her shoulder, fighting back her own tears.

“I hope my vlog would help bring more stories your way,” she said, releasing her hug. There was an intensity in Katya’s staring, one that fiercely declared “I love you, Trixie”, only held back by her tongue thinking that after one night of sex was too early to say out loud. Yet Trixie picked up on the expression, but couldn’t say it back either. She poured what words she cannot say yet into a tearful, lingering kiss. As they parted, Trixie picked up her bags before walking to the doorway of the airport.

Katya watched Trixie until she was no longer in sight. With a heavy heart, she got back into the car and was silent throughout the entire ride back to La Union.

———

THREE MONTHS LATER

Trixie was about to hang up after the ninth ring when her online call was finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“Sasha?” Trixie said softly.

“Darling, how are you doing?” Sasha’s low voice cooed from the other side of the world.

“I’m… I’m doing great,” the younger girl said, trying not to sound too fragile. “Just wanted to know how you’re doing.”

There was a pause before Sasha replied. “I’m doing wonderful. The cafe is doing great and I may be opening a second one somewhere in Metro Manila soon. It’s going to be at Bonifacio Global City, which is a huge deal!”

“That’s good to hear,” Trixie said, smiling. She exhaled heavily. “Sasha—”

“Are you okay, Trixie?”

“I just talked to Katya and…”

“Oh dear, is anything wrong?”

“No, none at all. I just… I just really miss her and it hurts,” Trixie sniffed, clutching the side of her bed where she was sitting on. “It hurts so much, Sasha. I just got back from my trip to Australia and… I thought traveling again would make it easier. But I don’t feel complete anymore.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Sasha said sadly. “I remember how happy you looked when you told me you liked her. Trust me, darling. It hurts for Katya too. It may even hurt for her even more.”

“Why?”

Trixie could imagine Sasha pursing their glittery lips before answering in a tone that felt like she was sitting in a Philosophy lecture.

“Because the absence of a lover is felt more strongly by the one who is left behind. Such as in ancient times, it’s man who goes off to hunt or to sail, and the woman waits for him to come back.”

Trixie fell silent. It finally clicked now when Katya had told her at the airport how she felt trapped or when she talked about ships docking at her port, only to leave later at some point. Guilt permeated her heart as she thought of Katya going through her day on the beach, hoping that one day, or someday, the girl she loves will return. While Skype sessions were frequent, it was the bodily absence of each other that was putting them through a longing that had no end. The agony was real.

“I want to keep her around,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “But my friend Bob said that the long distance is going to be hard when we live in different timezones. What do we do?”

“You know, dear, you have the option to not pursue the relationship if it’s too taxing on both of you,” Sasha said. But before Trixie could interrupt, they plowed on. “BUT that doesn’t mean you have to give up. I think you know what I mean when I say that the older you grow, the easier it is to lose contact with friends along the way, yes? So if there’s someone worth keeping in your life, it’s going to take a lot more effort to hold on to them. It’s hard, but we do it anyway because they’re worth it.”

Trixie burst into sobs. Her heart and mind both agreed strongly that Katya was worth everything, and the intensity of those feelings spilling out were overwhelming. There was a sense of relief that she still could feel her humanity capable of loving someone so much it caused her pain. She tried to compose her voice, only cracking a little. “D-doesn’t it sound stupid that… Traveling makes me feel right at home, that moving around feels like home? But this last trip didn’t feel like it…”

Sasha paused to think. “It seems the journey is more important to you than the destination… Correct me if I may be wrong, but have you ever thought that you were escaping from something?” they said. Trixie’s mouth fell open in realization. Indeed, why has she been traveling in the first place?

She began to narrate her history to Sasha through her sniffles, who patiently listened. When she was eighteen, Trixie left her family home to find a new life away from her abusive step-father. When she thought she had gotten away, she continued to run from the voices in her head that yelled that she wasn’t good or smart enough to make it in a big city. And when she had finally found monetary success in her YouTube travel vlogs and other side hustles, she had immediately worked herself to exhaustion to run away from idleness, terrified that the moment she rested, her income will fall and will be back at poverty. It was why Kim and Bob called her a workaholic, something she had honestly believed was a good virtue for a while. Until Katya, damn that girl, spoke of finding something, or someone, real to stand still for. She wanted to stop running. She had to do something.

“Trixie?”

“Hey Sasha, that business contact you have in Manila… What’s his name again?”

———————

FIVE MONTHS LATER

THE REAL TEA BEHIND MY LA UNION VLOG—AND A SURPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT 842,711 views

“Hi guys,” Trixie softly beamed to her viewers. It felt strange for her to start a vlog without the hyped up, perky energy she usually puts on. She shyly tucked her hair behind her ear before saying, “I’ve, uh, been wondering for months if or how I should be telling you guys this story… But I think now is the perfect time.”

Her beam turned into a grin as she couldn’t help reminisce the good times she had on that sliver of paradise. A glow lit up her face.

“Several months ago, I was invited to La Union by a friend I met at VidCon. Turns out I had been casted by some almighty force above to star in a Greg Berlanti rom-com starring me and Charlize Theron from Atomic Bland…”

She snorted. Her cheeks slightly pinked before stating the words with a glowing smile. “What I mean to say is… I met someone.”

With a fluttering trail of photos and funny videos included into her vlog, Trixie told the story of how she met Katya, her friends, their brief conflict, and how they bonded even further after she left Elyu. Then she gave a quick rundown about the past few months where both ladies worked tirelessly on closing a business deal that gave Katya a brand new opportunity.

“So without further ado, may I bring to the stage… The incomparable, the legendary, the festering pile of garbage I could not scrape off my shoe, my new travel vlog partner Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. Or as your dad calls her, Katya!”

Messy dirty blonde hair and straight perfect teeth, the glory that was Katya slid into the seat next to Trixie. While her body language stayed polite and composed, she had a wild manic grin that promised to bring crazy shenanigans to Trixie’s next world adventure. A pair of tiny plastic hands topped both of her pointer fingers.

“Katya will be joining me on my future travels until she dies of arthritis,” Trixie explained.

“I’d die of diabetes actually,” Katya injected as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

Katya quickly turned to lick Trixie’s face, causing both of them to flail, scream, and crash off-screen. A quick jump cut edit had them both back into the frame.

Trixie took up the lead. “We’re also thinking about doing a short vlog series of us talking about whatever we want when we’re not on the road. Feel free to comment below what we should talk about first—”

“And we’ll see if we can try to stay on topic,” said Katya, grinning deviously. “Oh! I bet you’re all wondering what happened to the resort,” Katya said to the camera. “I sold it to my friend Karl and his partners at FP Ruview Enterprise, god bless those hoes. Then I took the cash, buried it into a hole, and then I fucked it.”

“And then it grew into a money tree. Fuck you dad, money does grow on trees,” Trixie chimed in. Turning to her girlfriend, she said, “Would you make a good financial adviser?”

“I would!”

“Great cause I can’t wait to be stranded in the middle of Germany with you with no money.”

It was the first time Katya wheezed and flailed on Trixie’s vlog while batting at her with the toy hands. Later on, Trixie read with gratification that her viewers ate their banter up and wanted more.

“Ooh ooh! We can look for a strip club in Germany and wiggle there for extra cash,” Katya exclaimed. She got up from her seat and began running her hands up and down her torso and hips in the least sexiest way possible. Trixie watched with open amusement, wondering with utter delight what she had gotten herself and her vlog into. For a few seconds, she played out a daydream; twisting around to the plane seat next to hers and seeing Katya’s wild and excited grin, looking forward to their trip together. It felt like she was back at Elyu’s beach again falling in love with her for the first time. This is what it felt like to be whole again.

“So, we’ll see you guys until our next video. Until then, I’m the adhesive allergy drag queens get on their balls for wearing too much duct tape, Trixie Mattel!”

“And I’m the dumpster bookshelf you’re dragging to your apartment at midnight when this stranger helps out and you pay him in wigs and a quick fuck, Katya!”

———

“Where are we going to next, by the way?” Katya asked after they turned off the camera. Trixie blinked. After Katya moved in with her, Trixie had to take a step back and wonder how did she get it right this time. There was a person in her space that she could always expect to see at the end of the day that could make everything better. When Trixie thought about home, she had never imagined it would be the sound of a hairdryer at 9 in the morning, or the faint smell of cigarettes in the late afternoon. And when Trixie said she wanted to be able to relate to love songs again, she didn’t exactly think that she herself would be blasting Taylor fucking Swift and singing “She is the best thing that has ever been MIIIIIINE” while cleaning their bathroom. She knew Katya hated Ms. Swift, but she also knew she was probably secretly smiling over the fresh clothes she was folding.

The concept of love is simple, yet so terribly easy to complicate. So it gave Trixie great pleasure to reply in all its uncomplicated glory, “Let’s stay home for a while.”

[the-firebird69]

and i was worried not so now but am.  both are harsh and on and hot.  and this was fun a fun night and still on. and i call my honey the real one. and go out there and try it. and with champagne thank you real stuff and don parengone yes.  and real. not Sim and can yes.  by request. and some do.  most no.  and we see it is his brother. and mac will take it over.  shortly. still needs dave out and he is there mb in his matrix.  so we see.  and the ride is on. tons love it it is in...fully and it is surpriseing but we built foudnations all day filled and landscaped installed frm seven to now.  a zep song. and yeh sent back to mac from mac.  and they work that long and then this.. three hours. and he says it.  rememmvers it. and it is fun...so fun.  and to the Castle and one hour for the full ride.  and huge about ten miles. and stops and treats music.  and fun....we are there a version. and we say this this canot be happening is it bad and no. but our say not the usual and no is not the gown. well it is.  not the actual one.  if i go on it well im not actually her. but really, it is a replica.  and good he says that is the thing...then they say your not me ok ou are not and he is not so ok..and onwards.  we wnt on it Thor Freya say fun never seen a thing lilke it no... have  a bit but no not hte whole story.  soup to nuts and the whole thing is not cheap it is a date and fun as hell ends on disney main street and yes starts there so you ae not lost nope.  and then this. we do this i tis up and wow. so fun. and this is so fun he says my character Long John Silver and jason and his and the band of tommy f.  and we see it.  you hadme  hit jaosn you die. and then you cant its bad and okk will though and on and on then out back pow.  dead.  buries him.  and in long johns. and ok it is tommy f.  lol here makes sense.   tons of it is there on that show and we go on it now and no im w qe and my wife imnot her brother lol ok am. and fun though ti is fun..the coaches are cushy no bouncing mostly and rides smoothly and tons love them are ac no but are opened top and fun the stars are out and it is h aulted i raining.  tons see tall are sheltered for rain.  jason treis she says no and a scene and he and  sheoffered a free tour adn free bubbly are on and he says good. and does leave....ton are up. they see it now it is peace there.  and on it.  they fly and drive and work and ok.  real horses too. and jasons ride is elegant. they are decked out...we have frogs and real ones and they croak all night grasshoppers and butterfly and more tons of wildlife no misquitos we spray and use zappaersa. and tosn of it.  and we ride..lol.. mac is enthused uses it goes to each stop...and says no ghosts and there arent any in cinderella lol.  and ok.  she is in and fun. time to see  you yes. and i will. soon. and i get it...hey you and i have lol..tons sawoh i think its her. and then damn and oh wow. not teh others. and we saw her cringe and she says no no not at that and at that..and wow. me too ok. lol and looks from the future and i see it. young and older and black hair and form diet oh ok prego and events and i see too. true. and we do this now.  we see it.  different children and Savage Oppress has yellow ish hair....and Darth Maul black hair...and it is good. we see.  fun.  andmore.  fair  hair is normal for us no changes. did too and colleen shows it. and too i see why. and wow ok your him my love.and ou hear it there talk about it. and tons now. and the Castle and how it looks and it is wonderfully lit and youseeit there. and then this.. a gala event right before the fireworksat 11 and they stay and attend adn all see it..each night of the year and mac says i clean it up now. you are all out i call mine and show them his work..and they are amazed already and will be bette now.  they see it work w it.  they shall.  and now this will work  it is my style too old school... they learned it from me too. mac says and true we did. and qe says dramatically we are real royalty and should wear it no....and yes and a guard and then they are htere and have it.  and we are treated well. and they say more ok caa ok...we are here and the fireworks are on late but ok and the ball is now.. and tons wait no the fireworks are on during it..and we say this same but outside too a ball yes the last trip te best as you can see it from inside and from all over. and on a veranda for 200 and we expand it make levels and true need to.   and fun. wow. how nice. and i am decked out.  and look decent.  they have gifts and more and you take home the glass slippers.  and tons see his face and he is thinking.  and we say this ok we are.   and a wonderful ride and prizes drnks and presents.  adn tons say this is a winner and photos tons of pics but really htey all get one on the throne..and it is  loved....and it is a moderate throne...and tons say hmm.  his chaire there. no. and they see mb. and tons say no and few say mb.  and we sayyup and i is and fromhere and speical and of the usa and of macs area. and he says oh boy who. him...and it is wrok now and now and he alots it and points. and they go. finally,, and they say yes boss too. no yes Father adn go.... he band comes out and closes and the crowd disperses shortly and they all look so nice. tnos say it it is a gala event daily. and disney will be fine.  we all will. God bless Lyn princess says and all say i back and heard her yell it...sme clap and ye s is from massachusetts and ok youare  and fun. womans night. Hera Zues you shot me a glance then what....it is womans night and your a woman and im here and not there but i was there and had it made for you. and i see. it is our night. and i love you too. i do love you yes. and i know.lets go home sometime soon. we shall.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THbY7EL8k5w

[mumbleybummie-blog]

Holiday Gift

Park Jinyoung (Got7) x Reader

Word Count: 946

Genre: Angst, Fluff [TW: Character Death]

You suddenly realized you might be alone for the rest of your life. You thought to yourself as you watched an endless stream of joyful couples walk by. Hand in hand. Completely wrapped up in each other.

People buzzed frantically around you as they hovered from one place to another. Holiday shopping had descended on every retail space that you could think of. The stores packed with people and even more packed with those essential holiday items.

The holiday season was a time of year that you despised. You absolutely loathed it. Being merry was the furthest thing you felt. You would have rather stayed holed up in your house, in your room, and shut yourself away from the world. The end of the year did not bring you any gifts. The only present it had to give was the constant reminder that Jinyoung was gone. One thing you wished to forget.

The holidays were Jinyoung's favorite time of the year. The house was filled with warmth. A beaming smile never plastered to his face. Jinyoung would spend a countless number of hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. Calling you over every few minutes to, "try this," or, "I think this may need more salt. Taste it." You adored how he wanted to share every moment with you, and you wanted every moment shared with him.

There was one moment that you remember in particular as if it were a movie.

A fire was crackling, throwing shadows across the room. You were sitting on the rug, nestled into Jinyoung's tender embrace. The fire and his body heat acting as an effective barrier to the cold. Your face was tucked into his neck, a mixture of his natural essence and the spice of his cologne tickled your nose. It is was comforting. Jinyoung was comforting. Given enough time you could fall asleep.

"You fall asleep on me," Jinyoung teased coincidentally.

"Nhmmmhmmm," you mumbled.

Jinyoung laughed, that hearty laugh that everyone loved, "What was that? I don't understand mumbling."

You pulled back a little, "No. I am not sleeping. I answered you, didn't I?"

"I was just making sure. Sometimes you like to talk in your sleep."

"I do not," you huffed.

"Do too," Jinyoung smiled, "You rant about how much you love me. How you love my eyes, and how gentle I am with you. My smile is your favorite thing in the world, but it is really my laugh that you adore."

As Jinyoung spoke your cheeks tinged red. You stuffed your head back into his shoulder. Hoping to find an escape from his torment.

"There is no need to be embarrassed love," Jinyoung chuckled as he patted the back of your head.

"Why do you continue to date such a loser?" you moaned.

"Date? Is that what you would call this marriage. Dating?"

You groaned again, burying yourself deeper into Jinyoung's hold.

"Love, come on out from there," Jinyoung coaxed.

You shook your head.

"Fine. Then I will just tell you what I love about you then," Jinyoung waited but when you made no sound he continued, "I love you. Your personality but it goes much deeper than that. You are so generous it is almost sinful. You give till you cannot give any more. You're passionate, though you may not finish everything you start, you love doing it while it lasts. I could listen to you laugh for hours. You support me in everything aspect of life. You don't judge. You are open-minded. You are an all-around amazing person. That is why I chose to spend the rest of my life with you."

Each word fell like a kiss. Intimate and loving.

However, Jinyoung did not stop there. He progressed on.

"I love and adore you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You are my everything," Jinyoung took a deep breath, "And that is why I am ready, if you are, to try having kids."

You sat stunned. Shocked by the sudden confession. Jinyoung and you had discussed children numerous times. But, his work schedule was continually the one aspect that stopped you from doing so.

Silence enveloped the room while your mind raced. You were too surprised to say anything.

"I have decided to cut back at work, so I am able to fully be the father that I long to be. And my parents said they are open to help with anything they can. And...and...." Jinyoung rambled, clearly nervous by your lack of words. Something very un-Jinyoung like.

You removed yourself from Jinyoung's neck. Sitting back far enough to make eye contact with your husband, who was biting his bottom lip in anticipation. Worry clear in his eyes.

"Yes," you stated simply.

The pure elation that took over his face was everything and more.

That night was filled with an amount of love you did not know could exist. It was one, of many nights, you would always remember.

"Mommy," you heard, breaking you of your reverie, pulling you back to the buzzing store.

You turned to glance down at your two-year-old daughter, who was sitting in the shopping cart.

"Yes, sweetheart?" you asked.

"Cookie," she said pointing to the pastry resting in the display case.

"Would you like a cookie?"

She nodded her head, "Please."

As you continued on your trek around the store, and your daughter enjoying her cookie, you realized you are never going to be alone. True, Jinyoung was gone. However, you have your daughter so he is never truly gone. He is always just an arm's length away.

A/N: So here is this. It was a spur of the moment thing. I will go back and thoroughly edit it when I have the chance, but for right now here it is! I just wanted to get it posted. I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you all enjoy and like it! I hope to get more pics out to you at a quicker pace!!! xx

[drukkie-kookie]

As the Day Ends

This is super short super abrupt oneshot, 2k ish of Namjoon (or is it categorized as drabble? idk). the feels were overflowing after I saw this teaser pic bcs he looked so husband material so here it is. A husband Namjoon for you.

“I’m home.”

Namjoon quietly closed the door behind him. The quick automatic lock echoed in the silent room. He was greeted with darkness. Namjoon sighed in relief, glad that the long day finally come to an end and he stepped back to his safe haven, his home. His eyes traveled to this penthouse of him. Of theirs. Still looked sophicasted without the help of the light. Namjoon put off his black shoes, alongside with the cream socks. Putting it all to the wooden rack next to the welcome mat. Thus he stepped towards the living room.

Namjoon lazily threw his leather suitcase to the sofa, feeling the soft brush of the thick Arabian carpet underneath his feet. He remembered when he was in Morocco with you, travelling with Kangjoon still 6 months old inside your belly, arguing which pattern they should buy. But Namjoon having so much soft spot for you, ended up going along with your pick. Namjoon smiled at the memory. Your taste wasn’t so bad, he liked it too in the end. He plopped himself down to the beanbag next to the window. A glass window right next to the living room, giving out the clear view of the pool and the sparkling night of Ilsan in this middle of the night. A soft moan escaped his mouth as he felt his muscles relaxed, succumbed into the plush of the sofa. It was so comfortable, he even closed his eyes in delight.

He was almost entered his sleep when a soft thud coming from the room upstairs. Namjoon instantly wake up, and walked to the second floor, where all the bedrooms are. The blue colored door, with a “Kangjoon” sticker pasted on was the first room he checked. Namjoon was greeted with his son sleeping soundly on his stomach, one hand hanging on the edge of the bed. Completed Rubik’s cube fell down on the floor underneath the tiny fingertips of his son. Namjoon chuckled, heart warmed by the sight on front of him. The bedside lamp illuminating the chubby cheeks of Kangjoon, his soft blush looked prominent, with a ghost of dimples adorned his face. He looked so much like Namjoon while he sleeps.

Namjoon fixed a little bit of his son’s messy sleeping position, as he tucked up the blanket back again covering his body, slowly but sure. Not wanting to wake him up. Kangjoon groaned a little, but he continued asleep afterwards. Namjoon ruffled his boy’s fringe softly. He didn’t expect him to grow up so fast, a boy who’s going to finish his kindergarten next month, in the age of five. A year faster than the other kids. As expected from a boy with IQ just a little bit higher than him. But Namjoon hoped he doesn’t grow too fast. He wanted his son to enjoy every stage of his growth fully, without skipping any chapters of life ahead. He didn’t want his son to feel what he felt in the past.

Namjoon walked outside kangjoon’s room, shutting the door as soft as he can. He loosened his tie and put off his suit as he walked down to the master bedroom. He left the suit and tie on the floor messily, knowing you’ll just nag at him in the morning for not putting it to the laundy basket. Because he just want to hear your nag, following your lean figure, usually wearing only his T-shirts which obviously oversized on your body, sulking but still cleaning up his mess and putting the suit and tie to the laudry basket downstairs, next to the kitchen. He just want to expect your attention every morning (beside being a messy ass). Because he knew after all those nags came out from your pretty little mouth, a morning kiss awaits him. A morning make out on the kitchen counter.

All the light in the room was turned off in the master bedroom, only the light from the night stars and sparkling lights from the buildings outside as the source of the brightness inside. Namjoon walked to the side of the room, next to the gigantic glass window was the twin baby cribs. Namjoon stepped closer, only to see Hyejin still wide awake, sitting in her pastel blue onesies next to her sleeping twins, Seojoon. Her soft straight hair was messy, her doe eyes instantly locked with Namjoon when he stand right next to her cribs. Her eyes were glossy with tears, pacifier held tightly in her left hand. She was silently staring at him, not even blinking. The more Namjoon looked at his babygirl, the more he realized she was the exact copy of her mother, with addition of dimples in both of her cheeks, the only traits of him inherited to her. Namjoon just smiled at Hyejin, waiting any reaction from her. Both of the twins almost reached 24 months old but only Hyejin haven’t said the word ‘Appa’ or ‘Omma’, while Seojoon has. So Namjoon thought this could be the moment, even thought the tiredness slowly crept into his body in bigger force than before as the clock ticking to midnight.

But suddenly, the longer he waited, the more Hyejin get irritated and starting to give I-am-going-to-cry-dad-please-hug-me vibe. Namjoon panicked so he hurriedly picked her up and cradled her in his arm. A tiny sobs was coming out from her but his soft hush and gentle swing managed to calm her down and suppress her choked sobs. Namjoon pacing back and forth, hugging his only baby girl in his arms lovingly. No matter how tired his arm was, after long night typing the end-year report, he always has strength for his daughter. Hyejin buried her face in his neck with her tiny arms wrapped thightly around Namjoon’s neck. After almost 30 minutes pacing back and forth around the room, Hyejin’s breath finally becoming even, steady thump of her heart mingled with Namjoon’s heartbeat, a sign that she’s finally fast asleep. Slowly but sure, he put her down back to the cribs, next to Seojoon. Didn’t forget to give a feathery kiss on both of their cheeks. What did he do in his past life to be blessed with two angles after he got one? Only god knows.

A content smile plastered on Namjoon’s face. He just wished this time will frozen, where his everything safe and sound, faraway from any danger and the cruelity of the real world. Namjoon finally glanced to the master bed, only to see your back facing to him. As Namjoon walked closer, he was surprised to see you in a different attire. All glory in pastel pink lingerie, one of the things you don’t like very much. You were curled in a fetal position, seeking warmth as much as possible due to the lack of garments you wear, while the bed cover already twisted here and there tangled below your feet (blame your messy sleeping habit). Namjoon was starstrucked. The last time you’d wear this kind of things were only at your wedding anniversary night-

Fuck tonight is the wedding anniversary night.

Namjoon fucked up so bad. You’re gonna be so fucking mad in the morning. Shit.

How can he forget such an important event??? Blame the Kim Inc he has to rule every single day. The consequency being the CEO of one of the biggest Wall-Street company in Korea.

Namjoon ruffled his hair in frustration. How is he gonna apologize in the morning? He tucked down three buttons of his blue shirt. The tiredness crawling again after he saw the comfy bed and the way you snuggled so deep into the pillow, making him wanted to join you. But before that, he fixed the cover back to your figure, hovering above you afterwards. The side of your cheeks looked so soft and your cupid’s bow adorned with a tint of strawberry lip-balm, Namjoon’s favourite. Namjoon couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you so he find your lips with ease. But you being you, even though you’re in your unconscious state, you groaned in disturbance and accidentally pushed Namjoon’s face with your arm as you shifted from your position. No one can disturb your sleep. No one.

You muttered something under your breath (similarly sounds like damn you Kim Namjoon, but he could be mistaken) after your find the comfort in your new position, facing Namjoon’s side. Namjoon chuckled, no wonder you ended up as his wife.

The thought of going to the shower was very tempting, but it was already so late, past midnight. And Namjoon’s sleepy eyes couldn’t hold it any longer. So he decided just to go to sleep in his working attire, his blue shirt and black trouser. He circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You unconsciously complied, snuggling closer to the crook of his neck, limbs tangled together automatically, bodies molded into one perfect symphony. Namjoon inhale your scent, the earthy scent mixed with fresh lemon shampoo you always use.

Namjoon felt this silent happiness and gratitude.

Because as the day ends, you’ll always be there. The only home he’s always ever be.

        Bonusssss :

The morning was so bright. Annoyingly bright. You squinted your eyes just to open your eyes slightly. But then you meet the slanted eyes of him, already looking at you with a lazy smile on his smile while his fingers playing with the curls of your hair.

“Hey.” He greeted you softly and you hummed back a response, as you stretched your limbs a little bit to find comfort. You looked back at him, head propped on one hand while the other now finding its anchor back to your exposed thigh, drawing circles there with his cold finger, resulting goosebumps all over your legs.

“I’m sorry, for coming home late, last night...” He muttered his apology slowly, but steady. Eyes never left yours, because you just know he’s that kind of man that’s brave to face the consequence. And that consequence is you (plus your wrath). Now that he reminded you his mistake, your smiley-happy-morning face turned sour in an instant.

“It was our wedding anniversary Namjoon, how could you?!” You whispered, trying to suppress the scream inside so you won’t disturb the babies sleeping. He sure knows where to open a fighting ring where you can’t scream out loud. But at least here you could strangle him. Figuratively.

“I know, I’m sorry, there was so much report that needs to be done and I-“ He tried to persuade you with another work excuses, and making effort by massaging your waist and your back right now, knowing you’re so weak for back massage. But you slapped his sneaky hand away and he was startled. His face from only guilty, turned super guilty, sad, and rejected. Like a fucking puppy being left outside by its owner. How dare he looked so damn adorable like that-

You closed you eyes and take a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. You stared back at him just to find him already waiting for your response. You shifted from facing him now laying on your back, staring at the ceiling as you steady your breath, trying to find your inner peace again. All those yoga classes finally showing its results.

“Okay. Fine. But we have to celebrate it today, and I want to eat the chicken galbi restaurant that recently being opened last week and then we have to go to the cinema afterwads or the aquarium because Kangjoon wanted to see whale-

“Wait why don’t celebrate it right now.” He suddenly cut you off in the middle of your rambling. Swiftly changed his position from your side now hovering above you. The sneaky hand you slapped before already finding its way to the inner side of your dress, reaching upwards from your bare thighs to your stomach. Trailing his cold fingers sensually making shivers in every touch he made.

“Wait Kim Namjoon-“ and he silenced you with a passionate kiss. And there’s now way you’ll complain with this.

 Y’all know where this all going.

[daddyconfessions]

escort tales: the mysterious Lynx

I had a few anons asking me about my escort experiences. I had shied away from the subject. Didn’t want you guys thinking I was too big of a man hoe. Plus my escort stories are just as wild and crazy as my sugaring. So if you don’t believe my blogging on sugarbabies you’ll really be fucked up reading about my escort fun. But you gotta give the people what they want.

I do see courtesans on occasion. Before I got into being a sugardaddy that was pretty much all I did. Now, I see them when I’m SBS (sugarbaby single), my SBs on her period, I’m horny af, or just seeking a little variety in my sugaring. The last time I seen one was about October ‘15 I think. Firecracker was on her period. I checked out a few “sites” and went through all the reviews and decided on a provider I’ll call Lynx. She had pretty good reviews. Her pics were sexy as hell too. Even though the face wasn’t showing the body was just how I like it: curvy and thick. The reviews had said she had a cute face so I was definitely interested.

After a day and a half of trying to schedule, I managed to setup an appt with Lynx.  She told me the area of town she was in and the cross streets. Standard security protocol for courtesans.  20 minutes later I got there I sent her a text. She sent the address to her motel and 5 minutes later I pulled into the entrance.  I sent another text and she replied back with the room number. I drove on in and parked by fairly new BMW that was parked directly in front of the room.  It was a cute 4 door 3 series Beemer. Couldn’t be more than 3 years old I reckon. I knew it was hers.

As I knocked at the door she opened it. No one was standing there so I just walked in to find her hiding behind the door. She closed the door behind me and was all smiles as she said, “Hi sweetie.” Lord have mercy was she gorgeous. I’m not sure what her ethnicity was. I would have guessed black or Hispanic by her pics but the girl standing before me could have been Indian, Creole, Ethopian, something. Her light yellow/brown complexion, straight black hair and big brown eyes put everything in question..

She gave me a big hug and we kissed briefly. She even gave me a little tongue. Nice. I pulled out the donation and she told me to lay it on the night stand. We talked briefly; mostly me telling her how good she looked. I’m feeling like

as I looked at her. I could totally make this chick my SB. Rescue her from whatever she was going through. I know. I know. Who said she’s going through anything? LOL.  We were talking but I was ready to fuck.  I started to get undressed first, to let her know I was safe and for real. After my pants were down she started undressing too. I took everything off but my socks, and she undressed down to her bra and panties and got on the bed. I got on the bed and we started kissing. One of the reasons why I had chose her was because she kissed her clients. GFE was a guarantee with this chick. I ran my hands all over her bare skin. OMG. I don’t think I’ve ever touched skin that soft. And that complexion…Wow. Didn’t she know she could have a one sugardaddy instead of multiple Johns?

Ok I’ll stop.  

She pushed me gently back on the bed, and kissed on my nipples and upper chest. She wasn’t in a rush either, living up to that GFE reputation. By the time she got down to my stomach my nipples were hard as a rock. I know. I sound like a little bitch. But hey she was doing a good job.

She took Bartholomew and looked at him for a moment before she took him in her mouth. She did a few strokes before she stopped. She moved so that she could be in between my legs, facing me. Then she fixed her hair so that it was in a tighter bun so I could see them pretty little lips on Bart. Then she went back to work, making Bart disappear and reappear over and over again. Whodini I tell you. Hmm Hmm Hmm. I love courtesans. I always wished I  didn’t need so much more from a chick like their companionship and time. Then I could just fuck courtesans and save beaucoup $$$. But, it is what is.  

Lynx had some pretty good knowledge (meaning head, blow job for those unfamiliar with the lingo). She started alternating, going from basic strokes  to stopping suddenly, raising up and letting some saliva drip from her mouth. The sweet liquid from her mouth slid slowly down my shaft while she licked the tip and shaft area. Then she got all David Copperfield on me again, making Bart disappear with some deep throating.  I was starting to wonder if she had a gag reflex. I could swear my tip was touching them tonsils. I guess that was all the opening act. For the main event, she had my toes curling as she rotated between sucking, licking the shaft, moving up to the head, adding more saliva….it became a blur but you get the idea.

Damn I’m getting hard just reflecting on it. I need to text her. Fuck my sugarbabies. Escorts are the best! Sorry. Getting carried away.

Then she pushed my legs apart further, and worked on the boys and the tiny area between the balls and crack. Saliva ran down my thighs and in between my cheeks as I felt her tongue and mouth all over my love zone.  I was wondering if she ate groceries too but I’m not a big fan so didn’t push the issue.

“I’m ready to fuck” I told her.

She stopped, went over to the night stand and pulled out a Trojan. She started to open it and then said, “Nah, this ain’t gonna work.” She went back to the night stand and pulled out a Magnum. I love a girl that’s prepared.

She did that trick that only the skilled courtesans can do. She put the condom in her mouth and went down on Bart, sliding the condom on as she went down to my balls. I love that shit.

With me fully covered, she climbed on top, put Bart in and tried to ride him. She thought she was a Boss too. Got all up on her feet and stuff, squatting on the dick, trying to ride him.  Takes a special girl to handle 9 inches. But she tried it boo. Kudos. I was too big tho. Then she got back down on her knees and tried to ride me. Then tried to grind it. But she couldn’t find her rhythm. Old Bart was too much. “Let me get on top,” I told her, putting her out of her misery. “Yes please do,” she said.

We got into the missionary position and I could still feel all over her saliva on my balls and ass I mounted up and went to work. I was hard as rock and I commenced to mercilessly beating the kitty up. That yellow, brown skin had me going. And this chick was beautiful. She wasn’t as wett as I would have liked, but that kitty was good nonetheless. Or was it that I was so into her? Whatever the reason I was loving it. I was about to cum when she said, “Umm uh. Let’s change up.”

I raised up and she got up, turned around and got in position for some canine love. I slid in Bartholomew and started pounding that kitty from the back. She got wet and started really getting into it. I slapped that fat little ass she had while I tried to find her Gspot.  I grabbed her waist and pulled her to me every time I went inside, maximizing the affect.  She was saying  something up there by the headboard, but her face was buried in the pillow and voice was muffled. I was having more fun than I’d had in awhile. But I couldn’t hang. I came and the pussy was so good by that point I kept stroking while I was coming, long after I had cum, thoroughly milking Bart before I stopped.  When I was done, I pulled back, condom full as hell.

“You done?” she asked, looking back. She sounded a little dry actually. I told her yes I was and laid down on the bed. Lynx jumped up and went to the bathroom. She closed the door and I heard the shower turn on. I laid there and enjoyed the mist and haze of a good nutt.

Lynx came out the bathroom with a small towel and climbed onto the bed. She pulled off the condom and wiped me. She  went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and then came back and laid on the bed beside me. We talked a bit, mostly me trying to get to know her. She was sweet and genuine.  This chick could totally be my SB in another life, if not this one. I asked for a massage and she said, “Of course.”

I turned over as she reached over on the night stand and grabbed some lotion. Damn this girl is ready. While she rubbed me down, I asked what her race was but she never quite answered. I asked several  other questions and about all I could get out of her was she had two kids. “Where?” I asked.  Her body was so tight I couldn’t’ see it. And she didn’t have a stretch mark on her tummy anywhere. “Yes, “ she smiled. I have two kids.”

We kept on talking for a bit longer while she massaged me. Then I got up and went to bathroom and cleaned up myself.  When I came out the bathroom she asked, “You getting dressed?” I told her I was. “You got another one left in you?” she asked.

“Uh, I think so.”  I smiled. I didn’t think I had one but since she asked. I was liking this girl now. Definitely could be a regular client. But as I would find out later she had ulterior motives. :) I laid on the bed and said, “Give me a little head.”

She sucked and licked Bart back to attention. He wasn’t at full salute, but hard enough to make an impression. I was doubtful as she slid on the condom again. We got back into missionary position and I entered. Looking down at this beauty queen made me wish I was firing on all cylinders but Bart was thoroughly drained. I started pounding again, searching for a good rhythm but it just wasn’t there for me.

Lynx pulled me closer to her and started kissing on my chest, neck and tongue kissing me. That got me hot again. Got me harder.  I was hard enough to get see another nut in my future perhaps. Lynx wrapped the creamy thighs around my waist  as she kissed on me. We went from fucking to making love as the passion built genuinely this time around.  Where the passion was coming from I had no idea but we were connecting on a different level. Everything was blur at that point. You know how it is when you’re having a good time. I just remembered looking down at her and her eyes opening suddenly.  “Fuck!” she yelled. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”  And I certainly did as I was told, punishing the kitty for even daring to get wett for me a second time. And came she did. Her head arched back in the pillow as she squeezed me with her legs and stuck her nails in my back. No sooner had it begun than did it end. She totally went limp after that.

I stopped and raised up. I could tell she had tapped out. I love making escorts cum. There are some that don’t like to. Or they don’t allow themselves to enjoy it too much. One told me once that if she comes she can’t really see more guys later. I don’t get it really. Just like sugarbabies, courtesans have their own rules.

“Thanks,” she said. With that she got out of the bed and started getting dressed. I’m on the bed like

“Oh,” she said, putting on her panties. “Did you want to finish too?”  

Ya think?

What the fuck is going on these days? Everybody all selfish and what not. Getting the roles of SB and escort all mixed up.

All that shit I was talking  and I looked down at Bart and he was done. Whatever little passion he had was gone. She’d have work a lot more magic to get him back up and even then I don’t know if I would have been able to finish. “No,” I told her even though I was tripping on her putting me back to work for her enjoyment. Either my dick’s better than I thought or we got the roles of trick mixed up.

We both cleaned up again and started getting dressed. I told her I was serious about wanting to take her out. See her again. She said she was serious about going. “Its nice to have chemistry,” she said and added “Make a connection.”

We said our goodbyes. I haven’t been back to see her since. I did text her once but our schedules didn’t line up. Firecracker’s been keeping me busy. Plus now there’s Moscato  too. Two SBs is taking a toll on me physically.

Damn, after writing this I need to go back and hit up Lynx. Kind of horny thinking about her.

[elizabethrobertajones]

9x22 Rewatch

God, the end of season 9 was some quality nonsense. Pretty sure I never recovered.

We’re finally entering the “I have literally never re-watched these episodes for any reason” part of the show that extends from here -> 11x01 so this will be a trip.

The recap proves 9x21 only needed to be 30 seconds long. Beautiful.

Aw, crap, I forgot about Tessa. (like, wilfully forgetting. She and Billie are hanging out on a beach somewhere groaning about Winchesters being the worst) Thanks, Dabb. 

I suppose reapers were already retconned to hell, and you just went with a friendly face, as well as the really obvious step that Tessa vs Dean’s descent is an important step, as much as having vampire episodes to parallel to it. If you assume what you’re writing is the most important stage of his journey so far and worth spending Tessa on (I’m paused at the ice cream shop awful mom demanding “10 blueberries, not 9, not 11″ which a lot of people read as commenting on how many seasons they wanted and surprise - Dabb ends up taking over in 11 when Carver drifts away very clearly feeling this sentiment in his bones... Anyway, feeling this was building up to some great end, you can use up one of the most significant characters on the show just like killing Death at the end of 10 (though I still wonder if that was spite for this same reason :P)...) then it makes sense... Tessa has been linked to some really significant stages in Dean’s journey on the sort of really grim path that you can kind of see was always leading here, when you take Dean in broad strokes and look from current canon back at the past. As I know a lot of people did, really taking stock of Dean’s cumulative trauma that starts to make this seem inevitable by season 2 – hi Tessa, the stuff in 2x03 in Cain’s house about Dean being a killer, selling his soul – and it just keeps getting worse and worse until he’s given all he has, like, by season EIGHT.

In 2x01 Dean wanted to go with Tessa and NOT become a vengeful ghost, but not before struggling hugely with his duty and the fact there was still a battle to fight. She was ready to Valkyrie him off the battlefield before John intervened. In 4x15 he talks about how he felt her as something he’d been missing all that time - the sense he should have moved on, making their conversations in 2x01 clearly a factor in him selling his soul, and feeling he had to make use of his death/resurrection/pass it on to someone more deserving of that life, in his eyes. In 6x11 it goes back to his nature as a killer by her helping him be Death, and to learn how the natural order works (and I am fairly sure Dean declares he’s the natural order at some point while being a demon)... Now Dean’s confronting a whole bundle of mortality stuff, from having to die/wanting to die to not become what is heavily paralleled to being a vengeful ghost AND his nature as a killer is explored in this arc, and Tessa is more appropriate than any other character to vouch for the natural order being fucked. Dean’s wrongness parallels with the wrongness of the universe (because he’s the centre of the universe) and both are only truly put right in 11x23. Tessa is one of those keystone characters who can hold this whole narrative together.

Anyway, ice cream shop scene: angels and food - this angel enjoying an ice cream is a subject covered in a lot of meta. Highlights: angels & sweet tooth, check. Just eating it because a kid would and she’s playing along (see also: playground angel), check. Fridge horror of SPN being really wary of killing kids but forget about vessels when blowing up a little girl, check. (Though there was another little human boy there who died too)

The angel that comes in to kill her is blatantly wearing a trenchcoat in order to mimic Cas because he’s one of the “For Castiel!!” bombers, we discover in a minute. For now, the visual association does the trick. Useful to consider that Metatron among many other things, gives us a handy code for saying the character in the trenchcoat is ALWAYS meant to be a Cas parallel, which is handy for 10x13, the episode with the wife in a trenchcoat and the husband with the blatantly Mark paralleled vengeful ghost stuff. 

Side note: still not sure they didn’t swerve from a grace cure/power of love resolution to all that.

Side side note: it looks so dodgy here on this guy, but it does suggest Cas wearing the trenchcoat with no shirts under it, which I think is an image Dean would like.

The number of times I have watched the following short scene is absolutely astronomical, to the point where you could show me the first frame of Sam lying on the bed on top of the covers fully dressed with a gun under his pillow and I’d just be like “9x22, Stairway to Heaven, opening scene, T-minus 20 seconds to “weird, dorky little guy...””... probably not the date and time the promo dropped but like, wow, this was an event :P

(Theoretically I had been existing in fandom for 3-4 episodes at this point but I’d been so bemused about the whole thing that 9x21 was the first time I engaged, and only understood what the promo pics were AFTER and why people were talking about the promo scene and so on. This time I was primed and ready to go.)

Has anyone ever tallied all the Destiel nonsense in this episode?

1: “I called Cas” 

(”We got in like 2 hours ago” There’s 2 options here - Dean only just phoned Cas after restlessly pacing for an hour and 55 minutes, had a brief exchange wondering if anything was up, and immediately got the news something was, without exchanging any more details (the lack of talking about any more plot stuff gets more and more obvious as the episode continues and not just because Cas didn’t feel like sharing). Noticeable that even though Dean is the one who phoned Cas, Cas is the one who suddenly had something urgent for them to do. 

OR Dean phoned Cas up to talk to him to try and take the edge off and was having one of those moments like in 9x10 where he asks Cas how he’s doing just to humour him, and sat through a 1hr and 55 mins lecture on some bizarre ancient history/natural world thing Cas thought would be soothing for Dean to hear, until one of Cas’s minions decided he’d been on the phone long enough and the bad news about the attack had to be brought to his attention immediately and interrupted him - Dean bothered Cas until he was allowed in because he wanted something to do)

(I guess there’s always that Dean phoned Cas, Cas had been planning to keep it to himself and deal with it, but Dean guessed something was up, and bothered Cas into talking to him and inviting him to help)

Anyway! This was I recall fairly exciting to confirm that Dean and Cas even talked on the phone with each other off-screen sometimes, because remember what I said last episode about us being fucking spoiled? This is another one of those things where Dean phoning Cas genuinely seemed to be exciting at the suggestion they’d been having an OFF-SCREEN conversation rather than these 5 second one sided calls we saw on screen. Especially that Dean called him of his own volition when he didn’t have a gun to his head or anything better to do.

These days Dean walks into any old scene after having had a long chat with Cas where we only hear the summary as he hangs up. The world has changed :P

2: “... he’s a weird, dorky little guy.”

Honestly since 9x22 entered the Deep Past of the show, we mostly just quote that part on its own. It’s funnier in context. Dean starts aggressive, dismissively says “he’s a weird guy,” and this is all in a camera angle from the back of his head. And THEN we cut to Dean’s face and oh - oh no, Dean. You’re in deep, honey. You’re like 99% demon waiting to go, angry about everything and then you start talking about Cas for 1 second and you just... Stare into the far distance thinking about how dorky and smol your BFF is with that far-off daze in your entire expression. Then suddenly realise what you’re doing and snap back to reality with a “But!” like Cas really has like 1 redeeming feature, which is his army of angels, overcompensating for that weird lapse. 

Sam, of course has not had enough coffee for this.

DEAN Because he is a weird guy, okay? He's a weird, dorky, little guy. But he happens to have an army of Angels behind him, and, even though I hate to say it, if we're gonna take a shot at Metatron, they might be useful.

This also sounds very ambiguous about if Dean thinks Cas is useful or his army is - he’s affecting a huge distance to him and later we can see much more clearly when he’s arguing with Cas that he cares about him and is worried about the army, and what might happen to Cas if he has to play Commander too long... Right here and now it certainly could suggest he barely thinks Cas will be any help, but the resources he’s scavenged might be.

That’s especially if you don’t read too much into Dean’s tangent about Cas being weird and dorky.

Meanwhile, all the times I mentioned Sam not getting concerned fast enough:

SAM No. In all fairness, we didn't decide. You did. 

DEAN Okay, I decided that a hockey stick that can kill anything might come in handy, so sue me. 

SAM How many times have we been around this block? Magic that powerful comes at a price, and right now we don't know what that price is.

NOW he’s arguing with Dean deciding things but in a way it’s now all set in stone because he’s decided while Sam was still not taking a strong stance on it. Not blaming Sam because this probably would have all happened one way or another, but he could have been a LOT more prepared/done more research/begun lining up cures sharpish. Instead it’s all snuck up on him and he’s only getting concerned when Dean’s waaay past the point of no return. He probably should have been resisting even looking for the First Blade, instead of helping.

SAM And I'm glad, honestly. I'm not saying we bury the thing. I'm saying we just save it for when we really need it.

Also he still doesn’t quite get how bad it is.

Still wonder if Dean Force-pulled the Blade into his bag.

Or if he made a really terrible excuse about needing to go to the loo before they left and doubled back and Sam just… was not… suspicious enough.

SPEARS AND AGUILERA

Cas tries.

He’s probably already Beyonce here, but we don’t get a chance to find out what it was until much later.

Probably something to say about the implication that Cas only realised this after the pop culture download, and made a misinterpretation (a harmless one) of the text to a sort of wacky result. Not sure if it fits with the fan commentary from last episode and definitely way less pointed, especially since Sam and Dean still roll with it and don’t kick up a stink about Cas getting it wrong beyond asking him in a really bemused way (Sam) and offering a “wow” from Dean who despite “weird dorky little guy” is not really in the best place to appreciate Cas being adorable. They don’t correct him and turn it into a whole thing about not using obviously girly/pop music aliases (honestly couldn’t tell you which one Dean is more offended by but I’d lean towards pop music :P).

Anyway it WORKED and they’re on the crime scene, so it was a valid reading after all... I think really it belongs with the writing thread of this season, especially with Cas struggling to catch a clue with subtext – Mittens was watching 9x10 on TV earlier and asked if Cas even knew that Dean was blaming Gadreel for making him kick Cas out, and I figure not likely if Dean doesn’t directly say it, especially if Cas still feels he doesn’t belong like 3 years later… He has a bit of a wider pool of info to draw from but he’s still not grasping all the nuance of pop culture of what it means or why people like it… Same box as him not getting WHY a Death Star reference at the appropriate moment.

Anyway I’ve had it paused way too long because Cas is standing in this really powerful pose and honestly he knows he’s on borrowed time as much as Dean does and this episode points it out loudly, but I still feel like Cas’s last vestiges of denial about that are also the last time we really see Cas “OK” after this except for maybe 5 minutes between the end of 10x18 and 10x22.

I had an attention span fail and left it paused way too long on Metatron posing in a knock off of Cas’s coat TRYING to look all imposing and really failing. I do love that it’s a knock off of the knock off coat, and further silently tells us the connection between the now 3 trenchcoat-ed angels we’ve seen in all of like 4 minutes of episode.

I think before I paused I was about to type something about it being left ambiguous about which angel it was who was left when Cas mentions there was only 1 angel in the ice cream place, and the way he indicates that it was one of his angels is really understated as well – I had glanced away and thought he literally changed the subject out of awkwardness. But no, he doesn’t realise his angel is the aggressor here, or that they were no longer “his” angel. Of course we’d believe since we saw what happened that Cas’s angel would be the little girl, the innocent in that encounter… Because we’d never think Cas could do this, although the episode has set itself up to be really ambiguous about Cas and his army and if they’re good or not.

I also like “this is abhorrent even for him” and then cut to Metatron wearing the trenchcoat – like this really is the biggest violation :P

I love though that this shows that Metatron attempted to be GOD and that wasn’t good enough and now he’s sort of got more of a measure on the angel stuff than he did at the end of season 8, having been out of the loop forever and probably only latched onto Cas because of the obvious chatter in Heaven of him going rogue at the time they clued Metatron in that it was time to listen, he’s now trying to ape Cas instead, seeing how he looks in a trenchcoat and petty and bitter about Cas’s popularity and sex appeal.

And he’s EMBARRASSED about it. And it gives Gadreel another reason to really judge Metatron (oh the beauty of his end of season faces…) and he’s contemplating being turncoat on Metatron already – he at least sounds sincere to argue with Metatron that they’re losing and Cas’s army is better than theirs despite having the high ground… But this also makes a compelling list of reasons to demonstrate he’s losing faith in Metatron and is starting to realise he’s as much of a loser as he seems (the bowling angel interaction has a lot of this as well) – especially Metatron clearly idolising Cas as cooler than him, well… Gadreel’s really starting to get the message already.

Plus, in 9x18 he complained if it was Metatron’s plan for him to be caught, which was the first real crack between them… now:

GADREEL No, we -- we're losing, Metatron. Castiel's followers outnumber us. And while they haven't gone on offense, they have proven capable. They stopped you from killing him, and me, for example. 

METATRON I told you, we had our shot with operation Lee Harvey, and we took it. I gave the orders. You weren't to be harmed. 

GADREEL You had me followed.

Because again Metatron is using Gadreel as a pawn in his game and not telling him what he’s doing while constructing these narratives about it.

METATRON Yeah, and you met with the enemy... In secret. What is that old line about sins and stones? 

GADREEL He spoke. He lied. And I listened. That's it. But I serve heaven. I serve you.

Gadreel looks SO guilty and then he is super defensive. Again, knowing he doesn’t even do as Cas suggested and inform on Metatron but outright defects to them by the end of the episode you can see he’s already considering the offer….

METATRON Good. Don't forget it. I mean, I-I don't get this whole Cas lovefest, either.

Metatron deflects back to bitching about Cas, again projecting a bit much because he OBVIOUSLY gets it… I mean he could just be trying on the trenchcoat to see what the big deal is or if it gives him magic powers of sex appeal and likeability, but he was clearly checking himself out, and this whole episode really is Metatron’s jealousy and disdain for Cas in equal measures. It’s become, to HIM a petty rivalry for Heaven, while it’s a sort of urgent mission for Cas approached like every other horrible mission he has to do to just get some freakin’ rest… Like, Metatron, do you know WHY Cas never read a book? He’s been too fucking busy tidying up after assholes like you :P

And of course it’s the huge example of the personal vs impersonal. He’s in love with humanity/it was all for Dean Winchester. Metatron makes the proclamation about humanity, and then seems to go after humanity next episode, but it clearly was a lure for Dean, a trap Metatron set. He didn’t really care about all the rest, he just wanted to get at Cas and make it PERSONAL. The pettiness we see here is probably the best scene to explain Metatron’s motivations, such as they are. He wants to tell this big story but it’s all caught up on the characters and he has a personal vendetta to tear Cas down.

(With Dean’s upcoming reminder about Cas and power going to his head, that I seem to recall is in the scene at the HQ of Cas’s army coming up next, there’s a reminder of season 6, and I wonder if this is sort of commentary on Cas’s treatment there, being built up and torn down, but this time Cas resists. Especially with the repeated sentiment of Cas doing it all for Dean, which was his clearly stated motivation in 6x20 when he talked to Dean… Hm. Never considered Metatron as a retroactive Gamble parallel as well, although that is kinda petty rather than the self-mockery of the useless showrunner which I feel has been the trademark since day 1 when Carver called his writing the work of some marshmallow :P)

METATRON and still -- still, they're choosing him over me. I mean, sure, he's cute. And Castiel has this simple...charm. He's like a mentally deficient puppy. But I'm lovable. And funny. I made God laugh -- twice!

GADREEL You're the one who asked him to lead an army. 

METATRON Well, I didn't think he'd be good at it.

This is just… perfect. Poor old Metatron :P Now with 11x20 I’m inclined to feel a tiiiny bit more sorry for him, especially because God really didn’t think he was that special. But he’s clinging to these ideas about himself that he’s so much better than he actually is, when he’s the most jumped-up character ever. I mean Cas being God at least had some serious dignity and terror involved. Metatron’s just... rubbish :P

(I love him of course. Ahhh what a brilliant character)

Anyway he sees a really surface version of Cas, one that leads him to drastically underestimate him; he had set him up to be a useless rival, one he could crush, but Cas’s appeal despite EVERYTHING with his history, still draws the angels to him. Inclined to think it’s more because in a “Cas or Metatron” scenario the angels are like, you know what, Cas probably isn’t that bad after all…

METATRON And I have to make a good impression. I know. I've got a plan. 

GADREEL [motioning to the trench coat] It's not that, is it? 

METATRON Shut up!

Yeah, really convincing the other guy in the choice between the badass trenchcoat angel and the posturing angel wrapping himself up in a trenchcoat pretending to be cool :P It’s good commentary on politicians claiming to have all the same traits as their rivals to win their voters over to them.

Gadreel has like, 0 faith in Metatron’s charisma and it’s hilarious. He really is at breaking point even before the meeting…

HANNAH!

“Commander!”

“Ugh, it’s just creepy.”

Shut up, Dean, have you seen the rest of the subtext in this scene? :P I should probably file that under

3: Dean’s immediate jealousy of Hannah, which is a permanent feature of how he relates to her, right through to the last time she’s directly mentioned to him.

This episode is a great case study in the opening 10 minutes of Sam and Dean reacting ALMOST the same but not, and Dean’s reactions being way more Cas focused. Again, “I love you/I love all of you” – Sam is clearly weirded out by the angels and when “Benjamin” takes the box of evidence from him he has a serious Sam raised eyebrows expression. Sam asking about roll call he has a REALLY weirded out judgemental face about angel behaviour.

4: Dean’s reaction about “Commander” COULD be about how the angels are all weird but he makes it weird about CAS and himself and weird sex references in comparison to how Sam is judging like, the entire social order here:

SAM Uh, roll call? You hold, uh, roll call? 

CASTIEL They like to hear me say their names. 

DEAN I know a couple of women like that.

That same aggressively deflecting comment which I think can be filed under Dean’s jealousy of Hannah since she’s the one who brings it up and therefore “roll call” seems to be a thing between her and Cas, this “likes to hear me say their names” thing and he turns and announces that, innocent of the innuendo. Too much for Dean to handle – he’s canonically got the most dirty mind ever.

So feeling like Cas and the angels have some sort of borderline creepy cult going on and that they’re all literally lining up to bang Dean’s favourite angel… He sort of snaps back about it, revealing how he really feels about this – worth bearing in mind for a little way down the line where he openly accuses Cas of it being a cult since he doesn’t sexualise it so much then, but this is all centred around Hannah and Cas.

Checking Josiah’s recent purchases is quite amusing –

aside from the recent Gas n Sip, the transactions show he has been clothes shopping on the same day, probably buying a nice new set of duds to join Metatron’s team. He only in like the last 4 days went to that same shop while working for Cas still.

(Ongoing squeeing about Cas’s army – he knows their names, and the names of their vessels and where those vessels are FROM… They have definitely been having group circles where they share stuff and chat. Who knows where Cas picked that up from but it goes with the same stuff as him letting them all have a Friday night off and the going to the bar in 9x21 :P)

Within the last NINE days Josiah (and I am assuming it was him and that he hadn’t been with Cas’s army literally THREE days especially as he went to the same clothes place both times) also went to a deli and the cinema, and a few days before that a grocery store and car parts warehouse.

I wonder what on earth he was doing, but this poor guy’s family are going to have a hell of a time building a picture of what happened to him when they’re trying to track him down once they realise he’s missing :P

“Benjamin” is reassuringly called “red shirt angel” in this transcript so I guess wherever they got the intel about his name from for 9x21′s transcript, it never really stuck and is unofficial :P

Anyway

5:

DEAN And that's how we do things in the pros.

This is addressed directly to Hannah… Honestly starting to think I need to make a gifset just of Dean being weird AT Hannah in relation to Cas because he is SO fucking jealous.

Like, the Dean Is Jealous Of Hannah series is probably something I SHOULD have delved into in season 10 because around 10x18 I floated the idea and a few people picked it up but there were also comments on the post with the most circulation that it seemed like a real stretch to explain Dean’s behaviour in 10x18 when Cas blames Hannah for everything instead of Sam to be read that way… I backed it up with 10x03 but I really did not think to explore this episode and suggest it had been their dynamic from the start, and as I said somewhere else recently, Cas x Hannah was already being teased from 9x18 with the look she gave him at the end, and this makes it a much more blatant romantic squabble of “me or him” when Hannah tries to make Cas punish Dean… But people were kind of reluctant to discuss it at the time – people were already on edge over the potential love interest thing when it was announced she’d be back in season 10, and then the first part of season 10 happened and by 10x07 a huge wank storm blew in with the promo & kiss…

And like I said I have not been back to any of this since they aired, or at least since before season 10 for these episodes, so… No later context ever applied to them in my head along with all the biases and stuff we talked about later to look at again >.>

Also I’ve never watched this on a big screen in DVD quality instead of crappy streams and tiny gifs, so I am very amused at the discovery that Dean is wearing a black plaid tie.

SAM So, this was some kind of hit? 

CASTIEL I don't know.

DEAN Stop saying you don't know.

6: Sam’s still off to the side somewhere. Dean and Cas are talking face to face with very close camera angles as if in a private conversation. Just to be clear about how Sam having the line leading into this is at a literal remove from them. :P

7: Dean’s voice breaking when he says “stop saying you don’t know” as if with fear, betraying his first ACTUAL vulnerability for like… weeks. Look how far we’ve come since 8x22: Dean’s built Cas right back up and now no longer expects the worse immediately (“Sounds like him”) but is terrified of a reality where Cas isn’t actually in control and that his dangerous angel army is crumbling from underneath him (honestly, how much of Dean menacing Cas’s peeps through this episode while doing the interrogations is from his fear of terrible stuff happening to Cas as a result of this? Again like with knowing Gadreel defects, with hindsight though he’s angry here, Cas is a SOFT SPOT for Dean and it’s blatantly shown at the end.

Aaand then Dean gets angry, because that fear is too much and he has to move away from it and since this is Mark!Dean he just... crumbles into anger. Gosh I love Jensen’s acting.

CASTIEL You can't think I would allow something like this. 

DEAN Cas, I know you try to be a good guy, okay? I do. You try. But what you got here, this is a a freakin' cult.

CASTIEL Dean. 

DEAN And the last time you had this kind of juice, you did kill humans and angels, and you did nothing but lie to me and Sam about it the whole damn time!

It’s like he works through it from fear, to expressing concern about the cultishness, to suddenly dragging in everything and NOW we have our 8x22 moment of Dean bringing up Cas’s season 6 drama again when he’s most hurt/scared for Cas. And then he moves to the personal baggage and why it hurt him in the first place. Cas is not lying about ANTHING here, but Dean fears he might be and that’s enough to make him angry because EVERYTHING makes him angry, and again he lashes out and hurts him, even though he built things up better with Cas - especially by being abruptly dragged down from his own high horse by hurting Cas in 9x03. He had to deal with that every episode he saw him from then on until they were square in 9x10 (a moment when they shared this equality before Dean obviously moved on to his new life phase and wrecked everything they’d built and WAS the one keeping secrets from Cas by not telling him about the Mark :P)

8: the look Hannah and “Benjamin” exchange while Dean and Cas old-married-couple argue in front of them

This is also much worse from Cas’s POV knowing he is genuinely innocent, and having Dean get all worked up and angry and levelling these accusations at him. As I said – very narrow window of Cas being OK and like 10x22 wrecks them completely, Dabb does seem to be responsible for their yearly awfulness three years running and it’s always Cas who takes the brunt of it, as this is the point in the story it seems that Dean and Cas HAVE to be destabilised for drama. 11x23 of course completely makes up for it and I wonder if Dabb ever felt bad about having to write these episodes at the end of the season where they fall out/Dean is horrible to Cas :P Remembering he wrote and then subverted this pattern does make me happy. Anywho Cas gets angry in the next scene as far as I remember but

9: Cas’s horror that Dean doesn’t trust him, after everything, and probably missing that bit entirely where Dean’s voice broke because CAS is horrified about the bomber and the last thing he needs is Dean turning on him too and going off on one when all the angels in the room can hear and Hannah and “Benjamin” as our representatives of Cas’s army as a whole are equally horrified and suspicious of the bomber…

10:

SAM Can we, uh -- can we take this somewhere else, guys? 

[They enter CASTIEL's private office] 

SAM Will you stow the baggage, Dean.  

SAM Look, we've got a case. Let's work it. Cas, did you know the angel in that video?

CASTIEL Yes. His name was Oren. He was a new recruit. He worked in community outreach.

Hm, Dabb vs cars here – Cas already showed he knew the dead angel and it WOULD have been Oren he was talking about because they didn’t know Ester was there because she was vaporised. This really just adds to my theory about the ambiguity of which one was Cas’s angel there, because this is an OOC clarification for our purposes that Cas WAS talking about Oren in that scene. Like, that he knew it was deliberately so ambiguous it needed an over-clarification here.

God Sam is still so pissed off… He really gets fed up with how distracted they are :P

Finally he gets them all calmed down by singling Cas out to level ALL the questions at… And he nearly gets Cas back on track before

CASTIEL So, what do we do now? 

DEAN Well, you don't do jack.

Dean has valid concerns but phrased COMPLETELY wrong by still accusing Cas of running the cult by comparing him to Charlie Manson. Again you can see his ACTUAL concerns and worry about Cas under the surface but it’s all filtered through this Mark of Cain douchiness, while in practice he’s mostly just upsetting Cas :P 

He IS right that Cas investigating his own angels would set them on edge and Cas would miss stuff because he’d desperately WANT every angel to be loyal…

The REAL solution to this episode would have been for Sam to stay because he’s neutral and not angry and looking for something to rough up. I can’t believe I thought that first and THEN that it would mean Dean n Cas got to go have a little adventure together, but there you go, apparently I’m more invested in telling Dean he’s being a dick than shipping him with Cas right now :P

Anyway I know I squealed about it last rewatch post but here is where Cas says he has angels working in “community outreach” and I just love him so much, okay. Even when he can’t personally do it, he delegates angels to go help. I think if Cas, OUR Cas, got to run Heaven, he would implement a ton of stuff like this using ALL their resources instead of sending angels to like, one local hospital. He just wants to help! 

And of course this comes in the “in love with humanity” episode, so there’s got to be an obvious demonstration of surface text Cas genuinely being good and loving humanity. Like, even beyond something as simple as saying his motivation is to stop Metatron to protect people, not to do a power grab (I think in that respect he mostly sticks with doing it because of his duty to fix his mistakes and repair Heaven) like, this is just hypothetical. I can’t remember him ever saying that, actually. It’s next episode when they find out how much of a threat Metatron might be when he stops picking on Cas, having sorted out all his angel issues, and turns around to threaten Humanity. 

But nope, the way they do this is just showing us how much Cas GENUINELY wants to help random humans, just like those other times we’ve seen him healing people to no greater purpose than just to do it.

Still, something about Cas in this episode is revealed to be un-angel-like despite this love of humanity seeming to be part of their duty… and of course in CONTEXT the choice Cas has to make and Metatron’s gloating are *already* about Dean even before he just goes and says it next episode…

Oh no Cas has photos of falling angels on his wall.

Here Cas stands up for himself where Sam doesn’t – that whole thing about it being a “dictatorship” from later – we’ve seen that already with Dean being like “no” and saying “YOU decided” and then doing his own thing. Cas is free of the co-dependency and it shows because this arc after all is meant to highlight SAM AND DEAN’S problems, and Cas is a bystander/innocent victim/friend who assists them/Colette parallel, but never directly involved in this crap.

So, compare and contrast. Dean won’t let Sam decide things for them, or to be swayed by advice he doesn’t want to hear. It’s taking him to an extreme of their dynamic, but while he may be much grumpier with Cas, this highlights that there is a difference and that it’s only between him and Sam where things are rotting and awful. Sure he’s a dick, but his voice cracks with concern. I’ve seen people argue that he just found Cas easier to manipulate (and sure Cas’s motives here to go to Colorado DON’T get in the way of anything Dean wants to do – if anything sending Sam with him means he can boss Sam around AND send them away to leave him to menace the angels in peace).

But IF you find the way in to read it as concern instead of a different tactic to control Cas (and 12x10 helps with a textual confirmation Dean is a dick when he’s a concerned and right now his dick meter is turned up to 11 – there are probably better ways I could have phrased that) then I think it makes a lot of sense that Cas would get emotionally preferential treatment in this episode, even if you approach it from him as the control subject and Sam as the real point of conflict, rather than shippy. However you shake it, though, here Cas confronts Dean angrily, and they spar a bit, but Cas stands his ground, adapts to Dean’s demands, and finds a way that suits HIM to do what HE wants around what Dean wants, and Dean just says, okay, fine, and sends Sam away.

Again, if you read Sam as the reason for Dean’s dickishness, when Cas says “because you don’t trust me” and Dean says, “no, to help”, though this has all been really charged between them, Dean’s pretty much mostly demon!Dean, is more irrational about Sam than at any other point save next episode where he just plain punches him out to have him not come with him (and last episode he “only” lied to Sam to get him to not come with him, out of concern SAM would get hurt too – his humanity is draining away and obviously killing Abaddon was the worst blow so Dean between 9x21 and 9x22 is already a radically different Dean and that’s NOT character inconsistencies) and again he does NOT want Sam with him. 

Cas offers a perfect opportunity to ditch Sam, and so Dean changes track – the fight is over for him because this has turned up and Cas standing his ground has opened a door for him… I don’t really think it is about Cas at this point any more, to the point where Cas asking if Dean doesn’t trust him throws him a bit, because the entire time while he’s been having this stupid argument about cults and Godstiel references, it’s NEVER been because he doesn’t TRUST Cas though it sure sounded like it. He’s a dick and he’s worried about Cas and also, did I mention he’s a total dick right now :P

CAS’S CAAAR

CASTIEL Abaddon is dead. 

SAM And then some. 

CASTIEL Oh, no. 

SAM Okay. Um...Ominous.

See also: Dean and Cas didn’t talk about anything significant, see also: Sam is not worried enough part however many of infinity this season

It takes Cas’s OUTSIDE view (again, co-dependency stuff) to get some context to understand how worried he should be. I don’t even think it’s Cas’s “expert” advice because I think Cas knows about as much as Crowley here only unlike Crowley he’s not hoping for a “miracle”. I think it’s just literally the fact someone who Sam trusts who is NOT Dean can comment on the fact that Dean does not seem to be doing well…

CASTIEL Does Dean seem different to you? 

SAM Yeah. Lately, he seems to be...amped up --you know, on edge.

Cas trusting SAM’S expert advice on Dean, his self-worth nowhere near as bad as it will get, but still Dean’s words get to him and I don’t think he entirely trusted that Dean’s anger was entirely coming from the Mark, and not that Cas had fucked up somehow (HE HASN’T. HE’S PERF. HE’S LITERALLY DOING NOTHING WRONG AND EVERYONE ELSE RUINS EVERYTHING FOR HIM TODAY)

Sorry, wait, I’m not a bitter Cas fan, I just… *follows him with blankets and a cup of cocoa*

I think it’s because they’re talking in his car and I get emotional.

CASTIEL He does seem angry. I mean, he's always a little angry, but now it seems like...more. I think a part of him actually believed that I ordered those angels to, you know...Sam, you don't, do you?

At the end of the episode Dean clears this up for Cas – and again, despite his rabid “THIS IS A DICTATORSHIP” to Sam, I feel like the difference is not that he’s putting on a face for Cas but it’s meant to show how far gone he is with SAM, so I trust him to be genuine about this, to apologise and say, no, he didn’t think that. Dean and Cas, weirdly, are good for pretty much all of season 9 right through to the end of season 10 and keeping Cas at an arm’s length from the Mark of Cain stuff means so much more to me with hindsight. >.> I mean I wasn’t all that bitter about it at the time for this season but now we have all the hindsight, the way these two emotional arcs ran against each other, yes it is a total relief that Dean never got all aggro against Cas until pretty much every shred of his humanity, including the part that protects children, was gone (and he still didn’t kill Cas, despite how monstrously cruel that fight was). So with hindsight, I’m absolutely supporting that Dean didn’t think this about Cas.

Cas however, thinks this about Dean because he values Dean’s opinion of him, guides himself by Dean’s morals, has enough trauma and guilt about all the things Dean accused him of, and is genuinely afraid of fucking up again like that, as he repeated while clinging to “I’m not a leader” just a few episodes ago. Now he’s exercising that power as responsibly as he can, and it’s still not good enough for Dean, who freaks out about it. Cas, understandably, takes a blow to his self-esteem.

Anyway Sam and Cas bond – the start of the Adventures of Sam n Cas, having a very lovely conversation. *rubs their heads* 

They have a really nice build up to relying on each other more as Dean, the previous emotional link between them, rapidly loses his emotional stake in anything, forcing Sam and Cas to pick up the slack to keep the family together. Well, their nice moments so far this season have been sort of because Dean left, Cas just wanted to catch a word, and now because Dean set them up together so they’re not doing it deliberately, per say, but the writing is and the world they’re now in is one which is making them rely on each other and communicate. The stuff about trust last episode, with Gadreel and Cas both vouching for each other because Sam, is a great way to show all these ties and trust between them in action. Now they have meaningful conversations which aren’t about Dean! :P

(I mean this one starts about him but moves onto others stuff)

SAM No, man. Cas, listen. You got a weird thing going on back there. Those other angels, the way they stare at you, I-it's like you're part rock star, part L. Ron.

Sam cautions him about his followers but honestly aside from their over-the-top feeling of betrayal from Metatron’s speech, they don’t get wildly out of control – I think because Cas is a good leader not because there wasn’t time for it to fester. Of course Metatron plays off that adoration and how that sort of heightened love for a leader can quickly be turned by a sense of wrongdoing because it makes people question their OWN choices. Metatron gets to save their morality by proving Cas’s is worse, and their choice to pick Metatron comes because he saved them from following a bad leader…

And also of course Sam gives the surface text about the cult, explaining his OWN discomfort and what we’re to assume is Dean’s discomfort (hint: all the Hannah stuff says it’s not just that :P) by trying to explain that there’s just a really creepy aspect to the way the angels look at Cas. Sam WAS picking up on it, he just wasn’t jealous in the same way Dean was.

CASTIEL They've put their faith in me. 

SAM And maybe that's the problem. I mean, people have been doing messed up crap in the name of faith -- in the name of God -- since forever.

CASTIEL Well... I'm not trying to... play God. I'm just trying to get my people home.

Cas as a religious figure – Moses this time, instead of God. Sam vs faith as well, something we rarely see surface, but he struggles with it a lot. He and Cas have both had arcs where they did the wrong thing because of misplaced faith – Sam’s ironically because he had his own righteousness about the demon blood thing being the greater good when CAS was telling him not to do it in season 4, while Cas took his resurrection as a cue of God pointing him on the right path to do what he did in season 6. This is something they KNOW.

I love Sam n Cas.

Bowling angel!

I swear they cast a really tall guy just to make Metatron look extra small. Gadreel of course, standing behind him as the hired muscle, being also twice his height.

Metatron toadies and claps at Tyrus getting a strike which he probably shouldn’t have done – he’s making himself look like the grovelling underling despite his powerful position as the one angel sitting in Heaven. He then goes on to prove he’s got really, well… wooden dialogue:

METATRON Beautiful -- a symphony of wood.

What the fuck you’re the worst writer :P

I say like it’s so easy to be poetic out loud. But yeah, if they WANTED to show us Metatron being a good writer, he’d have had an eloquent piece of poetry about bowling – either ripping off something he read or actually coming up with a nice observation here. He thinks he SHOULD say something poetic in situations like this, but it immediately shows he doesn’t CARE. He has no attachment to bowling, and Tyrus is one of many angels who feels settled and happy on Earth; Metatron not only has an offer he doesn’t want to accept ever, but he also makes it clear they have no common purpose whatsoever by just not *getting* why bowling is great.

Also, the innuendo.

TYRUS Yeah, I sign on the dotted line, and, well, my people, they get a ticket upstairs. What if we don't want to go? 

GADREEL But it's home. 

TYRUS It's boring. I mean, you -- there's nothing like this in heaven.

I LOVE the angels that change and grow and appreciate life on Earth and doing human things.

METATRON So, wait. You're turning me down because of...bowling? 

TYRUS And I like being an independent operator. And I hear you're losing. And I hate your face.

Also that.

I love the way it goes from this abstract poetry about how great Earth is and the authenticity and the FREEDOM which he doesn’t even mention but yeah, and then when Metatron challenges him, he gets political and then personal.

Gadreel also doesn’t get it when Tyrus asks them to take a whiff –

GADREEL Old shoes and... Alcoholism? I...

But he doesn’t not get it because he sucks, like Metatron, he just has that same sort of remove from humanity and the experience that Cas sometimes has (and rapidly has less and less of when it comes to UNDERSTANDING, especially since he TRIES to understand, though the social stuff still gets him :P I like that Gadreel is one of the few angels played GENUINELY like Cas in how he relates to the world – he serves as a season 4 Cas mirror to it all to show how Cas has changed (no more apparent when they work together) and then next season Hannah does the same thing for a few episodes.)

Aaah yeah and Tyrus’s bowling team he’s infiltrated (“Jack” is the name of his vessel according to his shirt) is called “The Saints” – the whole buccaneers vs the saints thing from last episode. Metatron is going to beat him anyway because despite getting turned down he has a plan B which plays off of this:

TYRUS Please. You knife me, and all my guys will go running to Castiel. Even you're not that stupid

Because he has one of his “Castiel” bombers come take him out instead, so he can play the victim. Metatron loooves this sort of set up >.> I’m not entirely sure he’s a buccaneer in the sense that it’s a romantic term and what he’s doing is really not terribly analogous to piracy despite how he’s taken over the ship – I think it almost suits better the angels who want to flout the rules and stay on Earth and enjoy themselves. Next season they’re the “rogue angels” Hannah wants to round up, and I bet a lot of them were in this faction.

Awww Cas in a Gas n Sip

He’s looking around like “their counter display is not very well arranged”

There’s a huge bowl of oranges on the counter for some reason

– knowing Sam, Cas and this dude don’t die, that’s really incongruous.

On the other hand this guy’s name tag says “Jeremy” and we already had the detail about the blueberries about season numbers, so maybe this is a “Carver out” warning for season 10 :P

I guess Jeremy is wearing a sort of brown plaid that’s more Dean-like than not. And he’s gonna die.

FLAGSTAFF! Dabb really has such a knack for one off characters, and also writing angels brilliantly…

DEAN What do I call you? 

FLAGSTAFF My angelic name is 18 syllables long. Let's stick with Flagstaff.

What a great way to make her instantly memorable. She’s still my fave random angel from Cas’s army, even over “Benjamin” and his friend in their snappy wardrobes :P

I’ve seen a lot of discussion about what that means about angel names, and I think it makes sense they’d have nearly unpronounceable names in their own language, but like Ents choosing to not speak Old Entish because it takes forever, they communicate with humans differently. All their names are Biblical (or well, mostly anglicised Hebrew names I think? I admit I don’t know much about this sort of thing, says the person wandering around called “Elizabeth”) or I think Latin? I mean people have made completely unrelated posts about the possible translations of “Castiel” and pointing out the “-iel” part is about God in angel names and so on and that’s from Latin. Anyway. Human languages. Easy names. Maybe Flagstaff never came to Earth before and never had to use any sort of name so this is just something she picked up – perhaps it’s where she fell to or something.

Which does mean maybe Cas has a secret unpronounceable dozens of syllables long name.

FLAGSTAFF Not funny "ha ha." But you thinking you help people -- it's amusing. I help people. A clogged artery here, a tumor there. I do good in this world. You -- you believe every problem can be solved with a gun. You play the hero, but underneath the hype, you're a killer with oceans of blood on his hands. I hate men like you.

*muffled screaming about Dean from the pillow I have hidden behind*

Honestly this is one of those scenes I just watch through because aaaah too good to pause all over. The endless discussion of Dean as a killer – repeated a lot this season – weirdly feels more relevant because of Mary being described as a killer in the most recent episode. Of course their characters have a lot of similarity but this is Dean going as dark as he’s been to date by MILES, and he’s not done yet.

Of course there’s 2 sides to it – “Saving people” and “hunting things” and their dark arcs always come down to forgetting the saving people or putting it aside for one reason or another, and allowing the hunting to take over them. Very literally in this case. The BMoL for Mary represent this uncompromising but simple and easy promise of killing EVERYTHING. Whether she’s still going along with them or not entirely next episode, it sounds like the episode where this will really be confronted.

Hopefully before she has “oceans” of blood on her hands.

Obviously this gets to Dean because he thinks of all the innocent lives he’s hurt – maybe the vessel problem with killing demons and angels without checking and what they have to tell themselves to kill so many demons (thankfully so many helpfully demonstrated already dead or dying vessels that Sam and Dean let themselves relax about stabbing them, but obviously it still bothers them because they can’t exactly check…) That’s definitely the biggest regular blood on their hands thing they do as MOST MotW have at least a neutral to positive result when it comes to saving people, and they averted the entire apocalypse plus dealt with other giant threats to the world already. Carver era is designed to make them guilty though, with not closing the gates of Hell and so feeling an abstract guilt for everything. Cas, too, has the angel fall sprung on him.

Likely, though, when Dean’s face just gets consumed with rage, he mostly thought of the guilt he was carrying over Kevin, who personifies the blood on their hands, as it was that set of mistakes that fuelled all of Dean’s descent…

Anyway, light entertainment break as we return to the Adventures of Cas n Sam

I really miss that car. I should make a pointless gifset of it in this episode.

It has eyebrows.

CASTIEL Sam, this place is... radiating power. I haven't felt anything like this since... since heaven. We have to get in here.

Warning sign – this is what Hannah told Cas about what Gabriel’s horn felt like in 9x18

That sounds wrong

“I don’t got this” don’t worry we love you anyway

Like with 9x01, I think there’s an element of Cas realising he’s just not *that* powerful, and see above: stuff I’ve been talking about him seeming okay for as long as he can. He knows he’s not exactly as powerful as he was and it’s not even his grace, but in 9x01 adapting to being human he had a lot of drama like nearly getting hit with a truck or being easily knocked out or not being able to knock others out, or needing to drink… Since Cas got grace back he’s been functioning and healing people and missing his wings but still trying to carry on like normal. Something like a door old Cas would have confidently smashed down with his weight applied liked that (assuming Metatron’s warding wouldn’t be so pointlessly good that it would keep out even a non-existent full powered angel) is suddenly an impassable object, and Cas is no longer an unstoppable force. 

Having to admit “I don’t got this” is really humbling and part of the slow unravelling of Cas that begins now, because I really haven’t caught anything like this so far and now in this episode several things all at once that start to hint Cas is not the same, and in more ways than just his grace burning out. He’s adapting to being a different sort of angel – that even when he SEEMS fine is still not that powerful – I mean, at this point or in season 12 it’s about the same difference to how powerful Cas is, and yet here he’s burning out and in season 12 he’s just wandering around being Cas.

Meanwhile, Dean is being dramatic, lurking in the rain behind a column WAY too narrow to conceal himself, yet still stepping out from behind it when he knows Tessa is coming.

[obligatory yelling about reapers but I am tired]

DEAN Howdy, Tessa. You're supposed to be working at the hospital tonight, but when I stopped by, you were gone. So was an ambulance. Pro tip -- they all have GPS.

Well, and this seems to confirm that they were grounded like angels

I think the whole “angels of Death” thing is something the show never committed to early on because they didn’t want to commit to angels, or, well, even Death. But then by the time it was more acceptable to link them up they’d developed reapers in a way that didn’t work with their ANGELS, so kind of left it alone. I think somewhere in the back of their mind they always kinda wanted to connect them, but just… didn’t… until Buckleming finally bit the bullet and did it TERRIBLY, and long story short this does not explain why Billie could still go everywhere she wanted, unless she was Actually Death, or Tessa wanted to be talked out of it and let herself get caught or or or I need to stop.

This one is never getting untangled.

TESSA Good to know. So, you're here. Why? You just love musical theater? 

DEAN Only if it's "Fiddler." We need to talk.

Oh I remember the meta at the time for this :P I suppose it’s even funnier knowing Dean liked the Supernatural musical only like, 6 episodes from now.

Constantine, the next suicide bomber, is not dressed in a trenchcoat because that would be too… well, maybe copyright infringement grounds. He’s wearing plaid but in a sort of Misha way not a Winchester way.

I love Cas. I LOVE CAS.

There was like a solid month of glee over “prime numbers can be intimidating” like hell yeah they can, humanity still probably hasn’t even discovered them all and they only get more intimidating the further up you go. And Cas knows them ALL.

Also Cas’s beautiful pop culture obliviousness/savviness. His knowledge and (mis)application of 3 major franchises (LotR, Indy and Star Wars) are vitally important in the end of the season. After this, honestly the entire thing is dropped, like, Cas carries on blinking off references and not making any more himself, really, to this extent. Even when he watched a bunch of TV he hasn’t really started applying a TON of life lessons from it. His lack of context which made it such a delight in these 3 episodes where it was actually a thing, made it very easy for it all to slip away again in the writing. At this point it seems weirdly like once again this is something fandom remembers better than the writers, though considering Dabb played with it more than even Robbie or Carver with this little game of Metatron’s, you’d think maybe it would show up more now. :P

Ah well, it was clearly never that important to Cas, but it’s a weird thing that he literally has ALL that extra culture in his brain and he doesn’t see to even casually interact with it? At the very least it’s like having a giant Kindle library where if he’s bored he could space out and pay closer attention to some of the things.

Maybe that’s what the TV was in 11x18

Headcanon accepted for the sake of the fandom fridge horror that this is a season 9 only thing and literally three episodes ever directly refer to this :P

Cas doesn’t deadpan shit like “I’m very pop culture savvy now” so often any more either.

[SAM's phone rings] Hey. 

DEAN How is he? 

SAM He's, uh...He's Cas. What about you? How's it going?

Sam has his own amused/fond reactions to Cas being Cas, but not in Dean’s thousand mile stare about his dorky little friend. Anyway

11: Dean immediately asking about Cas when he calls. He doesn’t have pleasantries for Sam, sure, because their relationship is currently dead on Dean’s side, but that just means he’s concerned about Cas and while he seems to be calling because he’s amused it’s Tessa and wants to let Sam know about her, since he does kind of know her too (they met once, while they were all disembodied, that one time) the way he opens the conversation asking about Cas... yeah, that's a thing that was heavily featured in gifsets of Dean being ridiculous about Cas. :P

Sam demands to know what’s going on because this is a seriously out of context phone call but it’s really worrying (and WHY don’t Sam and Cas turn back now? Well, Sam continues to not worry about Dean enough, and also because he’d stay for Cas and CAS has to do this and it’s important. It’s not a coincidence this call comes after Sam figures out how to open the door for him – and he’ll help Cas not get murdered by the trap, as well – but that’s the decision point and because the door’s open the call to continue on is so much clearer than if Dean had phoned before, and they were stuck and considering giving up.)

Anyway Sam and Cas have team work and I love it.

12:

FLAGSTAFF I know he's the commander's friend, and I know we're supposed to pretend we like him, 

The angels had that conversation. Or Cas had that conversation with them. One way or the other a big gaggle of Cas’s angels sat in a room together and had a conference about Cas’s weird attachment to his human friends, probably after Cas let them hang out there in 9x21.

HANNAH Oh, God. 

TESSA There's no God. There's only Castiel. 

DEAN Oh, and you're done.

(Can we carry on assuming angels DON’T even think “oh my god” is a weird thing to say any more than Christians who might say it while also believing God is the Creator because that “oh my dad” last episode is still hurting my soul :P)

But – 13: Dean’s reaction to Cas’s fanatics continues, this time with a character we’ve been reminded kissed HIM in 4x15 in the recap of this episode, but now is one of Cas’s creepy cult apparently – I think she means this in a more defeated way, all existential crisis, unless Metatron REALLY brainwashed them, in which case I feel even more sorry for her, because brainwashing on this show can often have characters seeming to be entirely themselves, except for how they’re motivated to do one particular thing… 

Anyway, it love triangles it between him and Cas and Tessa with Cas stealing her affection, given the very specific way Dean reacts to Cas’s angels and the cultishness that Metatron’s working off of fro the other angle, so like, perfect storm of how Dean feels about it and what Metatron is agitating…

HANNAH You wounded her. 

DEAN More like "defused," okay? I cut up that old testament graffiti she carved into herself. I figured that would break the spell.

Alter the symbol, alter the spell.

Considering the phrasing, you have to wonder if Dean ever tried this for his own problem.

(Grossly, there was so much idle speculation about if you could chop off Dean’s arm and the Mark would grow it all back for him – I think him just trying to cut a line through the Mark or something no worse than all the random times they cut themselves with silver knives to prove they aren’t monsters…)

HANNAH It's horrible, but there's only one person who can punish her. 

DEAN Let me guess. Yea big, trench coat, sensible shoes?

14 – Dean having another go at describing Cas :P

Also more discomfort at the angels’ veneration of Cas. I didn’t stick this one in the Dean is jealous of Hannah gifset because the sensible shoes thing is overwhelming with the Destiel in another direction of Dean just thinking Cas is a smol dork, but he is bouncing off Hannah once again emphasising Cas is their leader and Dean is just so uncomfortable with it he snarks back at her about wow wonder who that could be NOT THE ANGEL YOU’RE ALL SO OBSESSED WITH MAYBE?

(Dean, honey, you are so obsessed with Cas)

HANNAH You have to understand that Castiel is the only thing holding us together. A month ago, half the angels in this place were trying to kill the other half. Castiel has given us a purpose. But more than that, he has given us a way to live in peace. We have rules. Order. If I let you take matters into your own hands, what's to stop one of them from doing the same? 

I LOVE CAS AND HOW HE MADE ALL THESE ANGELS WORK TOGETHER

I think these rules did sort of go back to Heaven without him but Heaven is still really such a mess.

Anyway it reminds me of the Leviathan – without their leader they were useless, and they couldn’t even pick a new one or something – without God the angels are useless and even the angels who try to keep order and become God or rule Heaven have been panicking and upset so overreacting at best (the archangels (both apocalypse attempts), Naomi) or total disaster zones (Godstiel, Metatron) – the fact we DON’T know who’s ruling heaven right now is GOOD because all the alpha personalities are gone, and they may attempt democracy, and here no news is good news. Anyway I like to think Cas helped Heaven get a little more settled even if it was indirectly and he’s still exiled >.>

I love how more and more angels show up through this conversation until Dean’s facing off at least 10 angels armed with one angel blade and the hidden first blade – I think itching for the fight, but it gets to the point where he knows he possibly couldn’t take them all, and the fact it takes like 10 angels for him to decide to back down and surrender his angel blade is pretty terrifying.

SAM You sure you don't want to go back, Cas? Look, if Dean is right about Tessa... 

CASTIEL No, I, uh...I do. I just... give me a second.

Aw Cas. You have to do this :< You don’t even know yet that this is SUCH a personal quest for you, but it certainly feels important.

I don’t think he really accesses all the pop culture but the sense of a quest is in these trials – the door, the penitent man thing – so I feel like fiction is subtextually pushing him onwards.

Sam is now concerned, but not enough to abandon Cas. He makes it about Cas and what he wants so that it’s all Cas’s decision to turn back.

Cas does have good reflexes

I love how Sam’s response is just how terrible the reference is. Like why would you do this. It’s so cheap. We’re in a dusty warehouse corridor. Why. Where is your special effects budget, Metatron.

DEAN Okay. Well, let's start with an easy one. Who are you working for? 

TESSA Castiel. 

HANNAH Liar. 

TESSA People like you, they never understand. Sacrifices have to be made.

People sitting in that chair really like to make judgement about other people in the room :P

But yeah I guess this echoes Dean and Flagstaff just to have Hannah react – she’s not so different after all, in that way where she can be just as emotional in response… In this case, in Cas’s defence, twice, refusing to believe that Cas would send the bombers. Dean has been set up to look like he thinks Cas might, which isn’t corrected until the end of the episode. Dean and Hannah now are balanced against each other again in how much they care about/trust Cas and of course Hannah want to be loyal and trust Cas. In a way it’s unquestioning for now until she confronts Cas over what Metatron says at the end when her trust is betrayed, maybe not because of the bombers but because Metatron gives enough reason to doubt because of the grace thing, which IS true. In front of the whole army, they have to have order and trust and all that she spoke about that holds them together. If they shook it off it would leave however much of the army NOT trusting Cas and cause more factions for him… If this hadn’t worked instantly it still would have destroyed the army long-term…

Anyway, using Hannah’s interest in Cas to balance against Dean’s, blah blah skip to the end of the episode, Dean wins both Cas’s not-killing-him thing for the giving up the army thing which is Dean’s reason for saying he trusts Cas. But like Hannah he really don’t want to hear that Cas is behind it – that “Oh and you’re done” earlier. It makes him uncomfortable and he hates it, just the same as Hannah is lashing out. So, like, I guess just a comment they’re still in the same orbit (Cas) all episode. Though reacting differently openly.

DEAN So you go after one of the bad guys, and if a few humans get microwaved, no big deal, right?

TESSA In the grand scheme, they don't matter. 

DEAN Oh, Tessa, you are so wrong.

Anyway for no reason WHATSOEVER Dean has a big reminder that he is Dean “Humanity” Winchester and this is where his heart can ALWAYS be melted and he can ALWAYS stand up for humanity and and and and that happens this episode

I mean ignoring everything else he and Cas are clearly soulmates in the non-SPN application of the term

I mean the way he completely changes character to say that an MELTS like aaaaaah Dean loves humanity Dean IS Humanity he always has been this is the sort of stuff he fought for back in season 4 and 5 and WON CAS OVER WITH

I wonder why it was necessary to shoehorn in a brilliant Dean “humanity” Winchester moment in this episode

I also can’t believe Dean manhandled Hannah, a full powered angel (as they come right now) out of the room. He could have taken at least the first 7-8 angels that swarmed him earlier >.> Easily.

HANNAH Is -- do you think she's telling the truth?

DEAN She thinks she is.

This IS sort of also why Dean would rather he (or Sam) do the interrogating, because angels lack this sort of subtlety in many cases. Which I think is why this plan works so well for Metatron. He’s playing off their faith in Cas.

Oh no Cas is so happy when he thinks he found the door to Heaven. Oh he’s so optimistic and – aaargh

CASTIEL I can hear it. It's calling to me, Sam.

This somehow all feels very typical of Cas and the angel plots – this is why I get so upset about Cas in 7x21 being SO happy when he says “Sam – he’s talking to angels” – he LOVES angels and Heaven, and just being in the presence of this spell mimicking Heaven, it’s an actual CALL to him. And for so long it’s a pull he can’t resist when it comes to angels.

(I like that in 12x10 it was a personal favour and personal investment in Benjamin that sent him off to deal with another round of angel nonsense, rather than this broad duty/obligation that gets him every time, and the overall question of his love for Heaven doesn’t come into it really, aside from Ishim and Mirabel reminding him of all the crappy stuff that happened and saying they “didn’t think he’d care” because it all puts Cas at such a distance from this feeling… I wish things were better with him and Heaven and he could choose his own path with their blessing, as it were, but at least he’s not being yanked around by them any more.)

Anyway, this is such a cruel thing he does to Cas – even the music as Cas walks in before we see anythig is that torture-related music, “cheek to cheek” that Alastair sings in 4x16 (the beginning of Cas’s journey, that episode) – but this is all set up to just completely dash Cas’s hope.

God, that fake heaven though. Dogs and dolphins and cherubs and I think a Pegasus hidden behind a cloud… The dog has wings and a halo so I think it’s also an early “dog that thinks it’s people” joke (which is interesting when Josiah tells Cas he doesn’t see an angel)

Even on DVD quality I can’t tell if that one cherub is holding pie for real or not. But regardless, this mockery of Cas’s place in Heaven, the presence of his “heaven” on Earth, and the general connection to Dean through the song will always mean the entire set up has at least half a point for all the Destiel nonsense :P I won’t count it for now because I think it’s less overt but OH the meta I read about this room when this first aired… I really really wish I had reblogged more at the time >.>

CASTIEL So, all of this -- it was a a lie.

Oh Cas

This, like the Flagstaff scene, is one of those genuinely intense, dramatic moments that I just LOVE when this show really gets into it and takes it all seriously and builds the tension properly. When Josiah grabs Cas he’s pulling him in for that one urgent last conversation, and unlike Dean’s problems getting the truth from the angels and getting a confession from Tessa that matches his OWN despair, Josiah’s blinded eyes which apparently still can see Cas, or maybe COULD see Cas, make this huge potent moment when he describes Cas and explains to him why he went against him and his lack of faith in Cas…

Josiah dies with all his faith gone though, because

JOSIAH Supposed to be here...Gate... He told me... After Ezra, he told me that I should come to him. Metatron told me that I could go home. I just wanted to go home.

This is symbolic of all the angels this year feeling exiled and betrayed by their leaders. For the regular angels the factions and squabbling has got them nowhere, and the one angel who would be able to let them into Heaven is pulling cruel tricks on them. And Cas, who seems like he’d have the best shot at taking Metatron, as Gadreel points out and it’s obvious from his HQ he’s got a great shot at it, is morally estranged from the angels, so they don’t trust him anyway.

JOSIAH No! I would rather die than owe my life to you, Castiel. You play at being noble. You play at being one of us. But I look into your eyes... And I don't see an angel staring back at me.

I don’t think it’s JUST Metatron corrupting him to think this. I think the angels are really genuinely struggling to understand Cas and what he is. His hybrid nature is a Thing ever since 9x09 when he took another angel’s grace, or 8x23 when Metatron apparently bestowed a soul on him.

I think this is the big moment in Cas’s arc and I think season 9 is brilliant at the set up – I’m just sad the plot accordion got in the way because this genuinely feels like it all got buried until season 12 so this TENSION and visceral HORROR about what Cas is all gets kind of diluted out. Cas got some self-reflection here and there, but being questioned about what he wants, who he is, is a very season 9 thing, and his arc towards humanity and picking his real family is sooo slow and it’s put off and dragged out. THIS is the culmination of the natural build-up of the season to make us question SERIOUSLY what Cas is and what he wants, and how it’s all affected him, and after everything he’s been through so far, how he’s changed in ways that other angels just can’t understand. Ishim called him an angel’s angel and while he really hasn’t been since season 4, like I said somewhere around 8x23 or 9x01 in this rewatch, the Cas of 8x23 is 1000 miles from even the Cas of  9x09 or 9x10 once he has some grace back, in a way that the Cas of like, 8x23 and pretty much any version of Cas before that who’s fully himself aren’t SO different, despite what he’s learned along the way. He’s written differently, acts differently, and is visibly changed by the experience of being human, like he never quite recovered from it, and it’s more than just being weaker and having no wings, or knowing pop culture (thanks Metatron)…

Ugh, I just love this moment. It’s so shocking, and it HORRIFIES Cas about what the angels think about him, what he is. He is so determined to help them, and I think this one moment could easily horrify him enough to spur him to work with Hannah next season, because he has so much to prove. His last line of the season – he just wants to be an angel – betrays so much of his weariness and anxiety on this arc of his, and at least in this part of it, he’s still clinging to his old culture, and his old family, though they have begun to reject him, and the set-up has already begun that he truly belongs with another, human family.

I suppose the “I love you” in 12x12 is the final answer to this, especially since this scene is with an angel laying splayed out dying and using that confession to tell Cas what he is. Then skip ahead 2 seasons and there’s Cas splayed out dying and instead of in a room that’s a mockery of his shaky attachment to Heaven it’s on that plaid couch >.>

DEAN Just you and me now. Let's talk about us. I mean, we got history, yeah?

TESSA Sure. I still remember our meet-cute. You were dying. 

DEAN Good times. 

Oh Dean >.>

But yeah, flirty flirty dialogue (about welcoming death >.>) and reminds us Dean missed Tessa – had a hole in him for a YEAR that was not going with her. She represents what Amara does in season 11, that call of oblivion and Dean wanting it to be over.

DEAN Here's the deal. I like you, Tess, okay? For an angel.

*grinds teeth*

I suppose having Dean have a thing for an “angel” is again juxtaposing him and Cas – Tessa is death, Cas is life, just not one he thinks he can have.

DEAN No, forget Cas. Why are you doing this? What would make a person want to pop their top, huh? I mean, look, I've been in bad shape. I have. But I have never been that damn low.

Oh Dean :< You just do some huge self-destructive gesture to save someone else or in this case get your revenge and don’t even see it as suicide because you think it’s for a great cause outside of yourself, like you’re not even WORTH it as a person to consider in all that. I mean it’s worth remembering Dean’s feelings about not dying when he was supposed to ended up contributing to his mindset of season 2 that eventually led to him selling his soul with a ONE year contract. Now you’re being gobbled up by the Darkness and you don’t even care.

TESSA I guess I just can't take the screaming. 

DEAN Who's screaming? 

TESSA All of them. The lost souls. The ones that can't get into heaven now that it's been boarded up. I hear them. They are so confused. They're in so much pain. All I want to do is help them. It's what I do. It's my job. But I can't. So I suffered... Until death, nothingness. Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad. It seemed quiet.

*sad music* *epic well-delivered well-written speech* Dabb really goes for the epic sad speeches. I’ve been commenting on that as he writes more and more dramatic episodes once he’s writing on his own and he has SO MANY huge moments in this episode :P It’s not quite the style of some of Edlund’s episodes that felt like plays but it’s got really endearing quality that he puts his heart into writing all these moments.

I can’t believe this also just kind of vanished until the end of season 11 when Billie was like hey some use for all these souls and then God presumably put them all in Heaven where they belonged.

Anyway this is beautiful Tessa characterisation even if she’s apparently an angel now and all, because she’s always been about that natural order, and if you’ve stuck with this rewatch you’ll remember 4x15 was mostly just me rambling for paragraphs about what a brilliant character she is and the fact that she’s all retconned and messed up by the current plot and yet Dabb STILL manages to capture how TESSA should be within all this…

*grudging fist bump*

TESSA I thought about it. But I was too weak. Till Castiel gave me a reason to die.

DEAN Yeah. See, that just doesn't sound like the Cas I know.

14: See????? He doesn’t believe it long before he tells Cas he didn’t doubt it based off the fact he gave up his army. Pfft.

TESSA But doesn't it, though? And the Cas you know, would he raise an army of angels without telling you? 'Cause this Cas did.

And the fact the drama is about trying to undermine Dean’s faith in Cas all episode!! Like!!! It’s all about how much he cares about Cas and trusts him despite everything!!!!! AAAAH

And you have to ask why are we seeing all this NOW when Dean’s humanity is being steadily destroyed and we’ll soon see it’s aaall gone when we get to Sam and then Gadreel at the end, and I would say in 9x23 he’s just demon!Dean and doesn’t know it yet.

DEAN No. No, see...the fun's just getting started.

[DEAN pulls the First Blade from his jacket. TESSA starts back] 

TESSA Dean, what have you done? 

DEAN What I had to.

Tessa knows what this is. Uhoh.

“Welcome to the club” – Did I see speculation that Dean was gonna be an angel of death because of this statement? It’s more about the “did what I had to do” statement, and that Tessa is showing Dean where it leads, to this horrible dark end where she kills herself to make the screaming stop. (I swear muuuuch later in season 10 Dean mentions off-hand he’s tormented by visions and screaming? Like, 10x18 or somewhere in that late part of the season)

Anyway it’s probably important Tessa kills herself on the blade, making it an unsatisfying kill because Dean didn’t bloodlust into it, and then he fails to kill Gadreel, because the Blade really wanted to kill angels – the closer to God the better I guess, as it’s Amara’s hatred fuelling it all. This is the part of the show where counting and analysing what Dean kills is almost like keeping track of power ups he collects in a video game, and in 10x10 Metatron confirms the blade has a sort of hunger and power level that it’s after.

Dean doesn’t watch Tessa die, but averts his eyes. Unlike Zach dying right up in his face which he DID drink in with satisfaction, this is one he can’t watch. One of the few times he really does NOT look, which given his huge bloodlust at the moment, yeah. Significant.

After she drops to the floor, THEN Dean turns his attention to the Blade, and it gives him that little moment of satisfaction.

Also, lovely close up on it with really bloodlike blood on it, because sometimes these weapons have like, chunky bright red paint on, but it looks translucent and dark and really real.

*Dean attempts to fight all the angels*

Off screen, sadly :P

HANNAH He put up a fight.

CASTIEL Get out.

Cas is really dismissive of Hannah there, like he’s really disappointed they did this to Dean, though they’ve clearly heard what Dean did. Cas is pissed about that too, obviously. And disappointed in Dean.

Still, once Sam and Cas are back, they un-tape Dean’s mouth and uncuff him, despite the face this interrogation room is now being used against Dean.

Anyway, Cas is so in charge now and if Dean wasn’t distracted he’d be really enjoying it :P

DEAN Yeah, you think I don't know that? You think I wanted that to happen? 

SAM I don't know, Dean. Did you?

Uhoh :P Sam’s finally beginning to get a measure of how far gone Dean is, as I said, after Cas raised his own concerns. Their deal not to bring the First Blade is brought up again and Dean dismisses it as a stupid deal despite everything that just happened.

CASTIEL All right, that's enough. Stop it. 

HANNAH [opens the door] Commander, I'm sorry, but you have a call...From Metatron.

Dun dun duuuun

I find it funny how Cas tells them to shut up (another version of “stow your crap” from earlier – with Dean currently broken, Sam and Cas both have to do their part to peace keep in the messed up new dynamics – anyway as soon as Cas tells them to put THEIR issues aside, Hannah shows up making it all about CAS’S crap

Or, well, Metatron is. Hi!

Someone pointed out how Dean is holding his Mark arm like it’s been sprained all through this, like he’s still recovering from the kill. It probably is really bothering him >.>

METATRON Just to tell ass-tiel, there, that I'm still alive. His bomber failed. 

CASTIEL My bomber? 

METATRON

The crazy guy. Big knife. Kablooey.

Fake news >.>

CASTIEL Who are you to lecture me on lying? Your deception led to the fall. 

METATRON I did what I had to do. I have always done what I have to do, for God and for the angels.

“I did what I had to do” is exposed in a completely different way, as a phrase to say what you WANT to do as if you have no choice >.> The denying yourself your own choice that this phrase conjures when it’s used in so many contexts about choices with consequences that COULD have been avoided… Like Dean not reading the small print on the Mark. The way it was explored with Tessa instead showed the consequences, not the moment of choice.

Anyway Metatron falls back on family as an excuse to do a ton of backstabby stuff:

METATRON What I did was neither good nor bad. It was necessary -- a small hardship to make us all stronger, to make us a family again.

Same thing as Samuel wanting Mary back, doing it all for family, but sacrificing a bunch of family on the way to that >.>

“No more stupid angels” – he’s always been ready to sacrifice a bunch of them to get what he wants.

HANNAH Why would we follow you?

ILY Hannah :P I mean you do fall for it but you sound so sceptical and rightfully suspicious of him here. It’s only the reveal that CAS is compromised that makes her challenge him… Of course Metatron offering an amnesty means she like many angels chances it for the chance to return to heaven – as Josiah and even Cas showed, they’re all desperate to get back up there and be home again. I don’t judge her for doing that?

ANOTHER incredible speech because Dabb is just on a roll:

METATRON Well, look around. You've seen earth. You've had a taste of free will. I got to ask you -- do you like it? I mean, the way you've flocked off to follow Castiel tells me you need to follow someone. It's in your DNA. But Cas -- he's not what you think he is. He sends angels out to die. Have you told them about your stolen Grace, Castiel? How it's fading away, and when it burns out, so will you? So...No, then. I'm not the best, but I'm the best you've got. You want to stay with Castiel, fine, but he's playing you, because at the end of the day, the only thing he cares about is himself and the Hardy boys there. You've got a choice to make. Make the right one.

First Metatron references Tyrus, the angel who loved Earth, who he obliterated, aka that option is off the table and as your leader I think we can all agree Earth sucks. Then he snarks about free will, after all we’ve seen of Cas letting his angels have Friday nights off to go to the bar, and of course, calling back Cas’s plea to God in 6x20, about teaching poetry to fish when it came to angels and free will. They’ve come so far but the appeal of order and someone telling them what to do… “DNA” is an analogy, but season 8 showed us all that stuff about angels having operating systems that can be hacked but how they were built to serve. Their core being is one without free will…

One lie, immediately followed by the stolen grace and how he’s dying, which he can’t deny. He constantly keeps glancing at Dean while this is happening. When Metatron says the thing about sending out the angels, because of how he thinks Dean doesn’t believe or trust him, and then again checking Dean’s reaction when Metatron says how he is dying. Dean is off screen but Cas’s eyes just won’t stop going to him.

We don’t see Dean’s reaction to the end, thought we can catch Sam in the corner of the screen looking really concerned. Sam stays blurry in the corner, while

15: - the line about the Hardy Boys doesn’t really include Sam, the camera pans over Cas onto Dean

He looks really sad and concerned about this… I would NOT say those are his angry eyes :P

Anyway Metatron ends with saying the angels have a choice again, and tell them to make the right one, and they all turn in creepy unison to Cas to explain himself and give HIS side of the story, when Metatron has woven such a clever trap for Cas.

Hannah sounds so betrayed about the grace thing. In a couple of episodes she’ll be breaking into Heaven beat up Metatron for the location of Cas’s grace :P

CASTIEL It's complicated. 

HANNAH So he wasn't lying. 

CASTIEL He was about everything else. He...you believe me, don't you?

HANNAH I want to believe you, but I...we need proof.

“it’s complicated” and his direct appeal to Hannah as a “you” who he hopes would believe him over everyone else in the room again makes a personal connection between them - and break up language

She goes to “We” instead of “I” and starts speaking for the angels. (I can see WHY they picked her as a leader at least for a while)

And she’s quick to go to “punish him” because she doesn’t like Dean when she’s supposed to, and HE not he and Sam in general is the ~human weakness~ for Cas that he needs to cut out. (I feel bad casually quoting Ishim :P)

HANNAH You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one man. 

17: Ahahahahahaha but he’s in love with Humanity – I can’t believe the “one man”/”one human” stuff – these last 2 episodes pair together so much and 9x23 plays off almost everything said about Cas and Dean in this episode… Obviously next episode Metatron making it about “one human” blurs this with the “humanity” thing even more.

Dean really thinks he deserves it and worries Cas would do it. Cas stares at Dean and KNOWS he can’t do it.

I can’t remember if it’s this season or season 6 & 7 I just went through with my mum where “can’t or won’t” is such a big deal, but “can’t” implies so much more in this case than “won’t” because it sort of suggests the forces involves are just too HUGE for Cas to overcome. “won’t” is still a strong choice he would make, but “I did what I had to do” – implies that there’s NO choice, and in this case it’s true. Cas didn’t have a choice here, though Hannah put the lade in his hand and ordered him to do it with everything riding on it.

18: To everyone’s total surprise Cas picks humanity and his human family over Heaven and his shot at fixing it properly.

HANNAH Goodbye, Castiel.

Such a break up.

*Dean and Cas exchange horrified looks about what they mean to each other*

*Cas watches his army go resigned to his choices and with his real family standing beside him*

*I cry a bit*

Metatron’s office! Ah, his gloating phonecall. I wonder where angels get his mobile number. Apparently that’s a Thing. Like demon bathroom walls.

GADREEL You should have told me what our elite unit was for. 

METATRON Why? It was none of your business.

Poor muffin. He gets lied to and manipulated forever. Like, that’s his life story. >.>

METATRON So? Well, that's an old writer's trick -- flipping the script. 

Mmm season 12. But Dabb flips the entire world around to see what happens :P

Little worried that’s from his terrible bad writing lesson from Metatron section but oh well. Nothing is funnier than Metatron giving Gadreel creative writing classes while Gadreel visualises stabbing him in his mind

METATRON You start by building up a seemingly unbeatable enemy, like the death star, or a rival angel with a bigger army.

The way Metatron pauses and gestures on “bigger…” never won’t make me laugh, because it clearly looks like in that pause he’s about to imply Cas has the much bigger dick, but then when you’ve used the subtext and his gesture to fill in that gap, he says “army”

I mean, this is LITERALLY THE SAME SPEECH NOW as that other meaningful pause. A sort of practice run on filling in a HUGELY suggestive gap.

[innuendo intended?]

Also the flipping of the script is the part where Cas’s weakness is revealed – the script gets flipped in season 12 and bam, “human weakness” from Ishim, “I love you” from Cas. Done and done. See what I mean about season 9 leading directly into 12? :P

METATRON And then, after a rousing speech, his true weakness is revealed. He's in love........................................ with humanity. And now...I'm inevitable.

(18)

GADREEL What about Josiah? 

METATRON Mm. He was a loose end.

Heh, Dabb going around clearing up all the plotholes in season 12.

METATRON Anyway, point is --while everyone else is playing checkers, I'm playing monopoly, and I always build a hotel on Boardwalk. And I always win.

So much board game meta… Mostly about chess, not checkers. Metatron doesn’t even know what game everyone is ACTUALLY playing.

Nice over confidence, you dick :P

Anyway Dabb vs cars, masterclass. Cas has a car. Why is he in the Impala? DRAMA REASONS. Because it is a powerful emotional beat.

Uh how did his car get to the Bunker in 9x23? Don’t ask. Just. Don’t. It’s worse than 10x22 after the reveal Cas had no car anymore because at least that was 5 episodes and a hiatus later so you could pretend it never happened for a while :P

….

I do like Cas sitting gloomily in the back of the car while Dean drives them all back to the Bunker. He’s chosen to be with this family, but shotgun STILL goes to Sam, even now. I think this may be more Sam’s insistence than Dean letting him, as well as force of habit. Remember 9x01 and how Sam set them up in his imaginary Impala, still letting Dean drive… Cas is another backseat character… For now. He’s given up his army but he has so many questions about his belonging with the Winchesters. We have a long ride until season 12…

19: Dean carries in Cas’s bag for him because he cares, because Cas is sick and even though he’s like 99% demon!Dean he’s gonna look after his angel, okay.

(Cas has a weirdly compelling side to demons… Maybe Dean just caught it :P)

DEAN About what? Yeah, I lied, but you were being an infant.

Dean used “baby” and “infant” on Cas in the end of season 6 about HIS choices

This is a totally unfair comparison and it wasn’t fair on Cas then either but it’s like 100x more unfair on poor Sam who is just trying to keep some semblance of control without realising -

DEAN Oh, I'm not apologizing. I'm telling you how it's gonna be.

[...]

DEAN That Blade's the only thing that can kill Metatron, and I am the only one who can use it...so from here on out, I'm calling the shots. Capisce? Look, until I jam that Blade through that douchebag's heart, we are not a team. This is a dictatorship. Now, you don't have to like it, but that's how it's gonna be.

*Dean eyeballs Sam angrily*

He doesn’t even use “brothers” he uses “team” – Sam disowning him in 9x12 has never been rescinded, and Dean has carried that hurt with him while deteriorating. Anyway, culmination of all I was talking about earlier about Dean turning on Sam, and how his worst tendencies come out there, because…

20:

DEAN So, batteries...

CASTIEL I'm fine. 

DEAN No, you're not. How long you got?

Dean immediately switches back to a more reasonable sort of Dean who has GENUINE CONCERN FOR CAS. He still seems brash and a little flippant to begin but he has URGENT QUESTIONS

DEAN Cas, you just gave up an entire army for one guy. No, there's no way that you blew those people away. 

CASTIEL You really believe we three will be enough? 

DEAN We always have been.

And then he softens, when he has to talk about ACTUAL EMOTIONS when Cas brings up his concerns about Dean not trusting him, and Dean has to tap into a place of genuine emotion to answer it, and over the course of this very short conversation, he melts back to a relatable version of our Dean that we can make cutesy gifsets of them looking at each other over this table with…

And that “we always have been” is so soft AND at this point, with Sam out of the picture in Dean’s head, I do wonder if it’s sort of about Cas in that way where he falls behind stuff like “you’re OUR brother Cas” in ways to say and feel emotional squishy things about Cas without getting out from the safe zone where Sam is included too… But Sam’s not included here >.> Dean’s a shade off the guy who chases him with a hammer.

(Dabb’s thing about letting Dean and Cas even start to talk… This used to be like the one reason I fell back on to say I trusted him before I knew him better :P)

Anyway mirroring Cas’s scary entrance in 9x21, here’s some heavy footsteps here to ruin everything – if this was a NORMAL day of the week Gadreel would be their saving grace, and instead…

The fact he knew how to get into the Bunker the ENTIRE FUCKING TIME and never told Metatron or came to get them even while they were enemies. Love him :P

The filming of this entire sequence from the moment they get in uses weird camera angles that make the Bunker space look really different from normal – more confined and close, even hostile… Even the library looks strange filmed from the angles Dean and Cas are sitting at. And the close over the shoulder camera angles and low ones to catch Gadreel’s feet, and angles to catch Sam coming in and out of the corridors – if the directing had been a touch more brave, ALL the war room stuff would have been like, shaky hand cameras :P

Anyway I love how Dean just assumes his best Murder Face, like, you know in 7x20 when they were terrified Bobby would go vengeful if he set eyes on Dick? This is Dean setting eyes on Dick. Bye bye Dean.

GADREEL Because I can give him to you. I know where Metatron is. I know everything. I know the bombers. They were his agents, not yours. You don't trust me, fine. I understand. I've...made mistakes. But haven't you? Haven't we all? At least give me a chance.

LITERALLY ANY OTHER DAY OF THE WEEK, MATE. That is like, a prize speech. Wins Sam and Cas over, and they’re the ones fucked over materially by him. Dean is carrying his big bundled up poisoned guilt, and can’t listen, because it’s all gone twisted inwards with HIS burden of it that he made. And so his descent which he started in 9x10 finally all comes out now when confronted with Gadreel and unable to forgive him because he hasn’t forgiven HIMSELF and taken on a curse which only makes that worse and –

Ouch.

He’s busy still making the mistakes – Sam and Cas meanwhile were bonding over their mistakes earlier because they’ve been through the descent and recovery, while Dean hasn’t even finished his descent yet.

Goes to shake left-handed in defiance of the fact handshakes were traditionally right-handed to STOP people going for a hidden weapon and stabbing someone. Where does he even keep getting the First Blade from? He’s definitely teleporting it back into his pocket.

Anyway hi demon!Dean

You are truly, truly scary.

Yeah I’ll always stick with this thought because after this, which I suppose is for 9x23, all the stuff about smelling sulphur around the Bunker – that was all about Dean and not Crowley. The whole thing about a demon in their home, which really is for the end of 9x23 or the demon!Dean stuff in 10x03… That sense of wrongness and that they can sense something is off… Dean gives into revenge and is completely lost in that moment, all his humanity gone. He tries to gather it back for a moment in 9x23 but it makes him sick, and he gives in, calls Crowley, and doesn’t even eat, hasn’t slept since who knows when… Crowley knows he’s already pretty much over the precipice and just needs that liiittle shove. Anyway he needs that symbolic death and transformation to officially become demon!Dean but if you just treat him as demon!Dean in 9x23 it’s much easier and I just LOVE the unravelling of Dean through this episode. It’s so so beautifully done.

[letterstochristopher]

Letters to Chris. April 23rd. Day 15.

Hey Buddy,

I’m actually feeling as close to “content” as I possibly can right now. I’m wearing your Army PT shirt, your Breckenridge sweatshirt and your plaid pajama pants. Covered with your firefighter blanket. I’m actually pretty hot but I refuse to shed any layers. This hot laptop doesn’t help. I just went through all of my old Facebook photos and tagged you, Mom, Dad and Nikea in all of them. Pictures of you dressed up for Prom, for Winter Sports, pics of us at McDonalds for Austen’s birthday, wresting at the Rocheport Winery, feeding fish at Tan Tar A…And I didn’t cry. That’s progress. I think it’s still hard to reconcile the boy with the long hair and goofy grin as being gone. When I look at your photos, it doesn’t seem real. That young boy I knew would never do something to hurt himself. 

Denial phase again?

Yesterday was a super long day. Dad and I drove to Sedalia to drop off meds for Grandpa and see the family. Sue, Hannah, Holten, Sayre, Connor, David and Stacy were all there. I couldn’t be there during Christmas (rescheduled due to an ice storm so Sedalia Christmas happened after I returned to Colorado), so it was wonderful to see everyone. Connor is adorable. He’s so tiny! I always forget how little they are when they are brand new. New mama Sayre is beautiful and exhausted. Sue is in grandma Heaven. Holten is getting so big! Hannah is doing well and decided she can’t stand her dog (we all got a big laugh out of this). David and Stacy just got back from visiting Derek, and are planning another trip out soon. Of course Grandma and Grandpa are doing well. Poor Grandma was fussing because I couldn’t eat anything since I’m allergic to gluten. That’s right, Chris. There was hole-in-the-bread and freaking Mississippi mud and it took every fiber of my being not to face plant in both. Everyone misses you. Hannah started to cry, saying she had no idea how sad you were. I assured her that it wasn’t just her-none of us did. 

Then Dad and I picked up Mom and headed to Mexico to see Bethany. She still didn’t know. So Mom brought plastic Easter eggs to fill with candy and I brought pics I took of Connor to help distract her after we told her. Even though Bethany is mentally handicapped, she knows what death is. The second Mom signed “CJ died” she began to wail. It was awful. We just held her as her heart broke. Then she asked if you died from a gunshot to the head. We just looked at each other. How did she know? But we said, “No, CJ had cancer.” She’d ask again a little later, and we would just repeat the answer we gave her before. Then she left it. Thank goodness. They watch a lot of TV there, so we believe she has seen things like that on shows. Who knows. We took her out to Taco Bell for dinner, and she did okay for a while after. We filled eggs with candy, and then in the middle of handing them out to her roommates, she began to wail again. She kept signing “my brother died.” I was so angry with you. I knew you would never want to hurt any of us, especially Bethany. But here she was, sobbing for her big brother. And we couldn’t take away her pain. You know Bethany is the sweetest, most loving little person. It makes my heart ache just thinking about it. I didn’t want to leave her. I don’t see her nearly enough. I’ve decided to be better about Face Timing her and sending her cards and little gifts. You’ve taught me to not take her for granted.

This evening, I went through all of your things. This was my Goliath. I didn't know if I’d be able to handle it. Every time I’d go downstairs I’d have to stop at all your boxes and bury my face in your clothes and break down. Yet I knew it would be too much for Mom right now, and I needed to touch all of your things. I only cried like four times. That's good, I guess. I started with all your clothes, folding and separating. Any I found that smelled like you I set aside. I’ve been reduced to a person who seeks out her brother’s sweaty shirts. Maybe that’s gross. I’m sure you’d make fun of me. But that sweat is from a body that I washed and diapered, wrestled, hugged, probably pushed in anger a time or two when we were little. A body that no longer exists. So any time I’d find one that smelled of you, I’d stop and bury my nose in it. I separated your clothes into several containers: one for shirts, one for pants and shorts, and one for all military and firefighting clothing. You had some dirty laundry as well, mostly just underwear, socks and towels. I pointed those out to Mom when she came down to check on me, and she started crying. It’s so hard for her to be around your things right now. But she doesn’t want to part with any. She warned me tonight that she doesn’t want me to take back many things to Colorado. Not yet. I can have them, but she needs time before she can let them go. That was hard to hear. I’m going back to an apartment that holds no memories with you, whereas you’re everywhere here. And all of your belongings are downstairs. But I know she has the right to grieve over her son in the way she needs to, and if that means holding onto your things for a while, I have to respect that. 

I also went through all your books, and set aside the ones that looked like they had sentimental value. A couple firefighting books (one of which had your Citizen of the Month certificate from middle school in it. I was at that ceremony…so crazy. It seems like yesterday). Your books from AIT. Yearbooks. I had to laugh at one yearbook-I’m guessing you had an arch nemesis because you had crossed out one girl's name and wrote “ugly” in its place. I’ve decided middle schoolers are odd little people. On the inside cover, where your friends signed their names, one girl wrote how she wanted to be friends all year but didn’t think you did but oh wow you actually did want to be friends. Dad and I got big kick out of that. I also found your Harry Potter books. I am going to take those if Mom will let me. I have my own set but I’ll just replace it with yours, which obviously has way more sentimental value. These are the actual books Dad read to you. And then I found your old Legends of Sleepy Hollow I remember reading right here on this couch. 

I looked through your cards you kept. I found a couple I had sent you…one for graduation, one for your 11th birthday. I called you “buddy” in both. I’m trying to remember when I started calling you that…I have no idea. I’m honestly amazed I got you cards…I’m the world’s worst card-giver. I keep every card given to me ever, but I absolutely SUCK at getting them for others. Hypocrite? Maybe. But I was excited to see you’d kept those, along with a couple drawings I did for you of Garfield the cat sleeping (no idea why I drew this??) and a dog. You had kept a ton of cards from our real mom, so I set those aside for her. I figure she’ll want them. You also had a ton of thank you notes from your old teacher, Mrs. Dahms. I believe she was second grade. Nikea had her as a teacher as well, and apparently she’s awesome because who keeps notes from their second grade teacher?

Then I went through your knickknacks, mostly your real dad’s things. Military medals, the old black and white pics from Korea I mentioned before. And then rocks. Rocks. Rocks and more rocks. Beautiful rocks, though. Ones even I can appreciate. Geods and minerals I’m sure Dad gave you. Fossils. This cool quartz ball thing. I imagined them all displayed on your bookshelf among with your dozens of books. It reminded me of when you were little, and you would collect all these things in your pockets Mom would have to pull out before she washed your clothes. Rocks, sticks…I’ll have to ask Mom what else she’d discover. But she always found that so funny. She’d put them in a baggy and mail them to Mom Heidi. 

Then your jackets. My word, you had so many jackets. I have decided you were a collector of all things camo (shirts, sheets, pants, jackets), rocks and jackets. Oh and cowboy boots. You had three pairs. That’s a lot of cowboy boots! 

All your military and firefighting stuff was the hardest to go through. I know how much you loved both. Ever since you were little, it was your dream to be a firefighter and soldier like your real dad. I’m so grateful you got to experience both. How many people can say they accomplished dreams they had as a child? I believe it’s really rare, Chris. We are so proud of you.

By the way, I talked to my boss and am officially back to work next Monday. They’ve been unbelievably patient. The last six months have literally been the worst of my life, what with trying to find job, living in a basement, my health issues, Clay’s torn meniscus and surgery…and now this. I feel so discouraged. I’m definitely hoping life doesn’t keep throwing curve balls, because I’m exhausted. I had really thought things were getting better. We found jobs. I found a doctor I really like that seems to have answers. We moved out of the basement to a cute apartment. Then that phone call from Mom. I’m so tired, Chris. I feel like I’ve been fighting nonstop, and I’m ready for a break. I guess another way to look at it is I can overcome anything. Nothing will come close to this. This is the worst thing that could happen. My worst fear realized..losing a loved one. A sibling. Life has to be uphill from here, right? Unless someone else I love dies. I'm so terrified that will happen now. But I know you’ll give me strength. You’re giving all of us strength. Thank you. Because I feel so weak right now. 

I’ve been thinking of the things I’ve learned the past two weeks. Grief really makes you hyper aware of your life and the people in it. For one,  we have so many incredible people in our family. I’ve always loved and appreciated them, but now I have absolutely no idea how I could ever get on without them. They have been so wonderfully supportive. Which brings me to my second realization: some people you fully expect to be there for you refuse to alter their lives to accommodate you while you’re grieving. Sometimes you want to spend time with someone who just has too busy of a schedule for you. This was a hard one to realize. On a more positive note is my third realization: we are so much stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Humans are incredibly resilient, even those of us who fold to depression. Like I’ve told you, you were one of the strongest people I knew. You lived so long with your heartache, longer than I could have. It’s a broken world, and sometimes we have to live through our nightmares. But if we keep fighting, we can come out the other side. That’s realization 4: we have to go through the emotions. One of my first thoughts when Mom called me was, “I don’t want to go through this. I don’t want to feel what I’m feeling.” Because grief is awful. Loss is the worst possible thing we can go through. But we have to go through it. We have to cry, to mourn. We have to feel anger, despair, depression, fear, doubt, loneliness, hopelessness, before we can heal. I will always carry this scar. A huge part of me died with you. I’ll never be the same. None of us will. But by allowing ourselves to grieve and feel all the awful emotions that come with it, we will come out the other side. I feel like I’m in this awful dark tunnel with no light anywhere right now. I know that’s how you felt, as well. But, realization number 5 is that we have no idea how many people care for us. I guarantee you didn’t. Our deaths affect far more people than we expect. I’m sure you didn’t know how may people would be missing you, sobbing for your broken heart, posting on your Facebook wall, sending cards (we’ve received dozens). When we go through all the crap that life hurls at us, we need to lean on those who love us. They are what get us through. Six: grief does weird things to your body. I’m so tired 90 percent of the time, I’m breaking out like a teenager, my skin is rough and dry, I’ve lost eyelashes (probably from crying). I want to eat all the sugar (amazingly I’ve only caved once, and that was for my favorite candies, Percy Pigs, that Courtney had left over from our London trip a year ago). It’s a bit funny. It’s like your body is saying, “Hey, you’re devastated. Have some pimples!”

F*ck you, cortisol.

Realization number 6: take depression seriously. It’s a dangerous illness that can overtake anyone. We knew you struggled and we tried to help you in every way we could, but ultimately we couldn’t save you. I knew better than anyone what you were going through, but I didn’t know you had suicidal thoughts. Like I’ve said before, maybe I should have. No…I should have. You were my brother. I knew you your entire life. I should have acknowledged the possibility. I know guilt is normal in this situation, and everyone who goes through our situation struggles with it. But lesson learned. 

F*ck you, depression.

Next, do not take people for granted. Just don’t. We get so caught up in our own lives that we forget to take a few precious moments out of our day to make a call, or even send a text, to say “I love you.” It just doesn’t take any time. We get comfortable and forget that life’s a bitch, and people die when we least expect them to. I was thinking about the last time I heard your voice today. Oddly, it was when I was cutting fat off a pork shoulder. My mind never stops. But it was Christmas. You called us, and Mom put you on speaker. I was so disappointed you couldn’t come home. We chatted for at least 20 minutes. That was the last time we talked. I still can’t believe I let that long go by since we chatted…that was when life started to get super tough for us (we had recently moved into our friend’s basement), and I became somewhat of a recluse. But that’s no excuse. I should have called you. Now I’ve been telling everyone I love them. But I should have told you every day.

My biggest realization? That you still feel close. Sometimes so close I feel I can reach out and touch you. I know you’re here. I have no doubt. Earlier this evening, I laid my head on your dress uniform that you wore to my wedding (I even flung one of the arms around me like you were hugging me. Another thing about grief-it makes you do weird things like smell your brother’s BO on his tshirts and make his uniforms hug you), and your presence was so strong. Knowing you’re still here with us is so comforting. Thank you, Chris. Keep it up, because the next couple years are going to be tough. I know one day it won’t hurt to breathe, but that day is a long way down the road. So stay close, Buddy.

Well it’s 3 am so I’m going to try to get some sleep. I love you, Buddy.