#let bobby have backstory besides the fire
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dawntainbobbynash · 1 year ago
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ABC give us Bobby’s family in s7 I am no longer asking
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outrunningthedark · 2 years ago
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Seeing Owen Strand having his own investigative plot like Bobby, I wonder what's the reason in TPTB throwing cop plots into their biggest stars. Is it because compared to emergencies they're comparably cheaper to film?
Three reasons why cops in the 911verse "make sense": - it was an opportunity to capitalize on the popularity of that genre of television - police officers respond to medical emergencies if they're the closest to/the first ones on the scene (see: Athena assisting the man trapped in his car in s2 // reactivating that girl's heart device while talking to Maddie in s6)
- Re: first ones on the scene as mentioned above: often times emergencies that are fire or medical related also require a police investigation, thus the opportunity for Athena to interact with the 118 despite not being part of the team With Athena, the show managed to give her a backstory for *why* she was motivated to become an officer - she wanted to make a difference. (Tanya's disappearance was a factor because Beatrice talked about Tanya's mother asking the police for answers on a monthly basis and still having none before her death.) This is Angela’s first cop role, and a big draw for her (besides working with Ryan Murphy & the crew again) was doing something different, something challenging:
“The characters that were written for me were always very intriguing, very different from something I had done before…I knew that I was in territory where you’re going to be challenged and pulled and excited about what they’re going to bring to the table.”
When it comes to LS...we can understand why Tim may not have wanted to make Owen an officer, too [there's copying and then there's copying], but giving the character investigative plots that further separate him from his colleagues and his own kid...part of me wants to say this is another attempt at appealing to the folks who enjoy watching crimes get solved, but at the same time...why does it feel SO like Rob Lowe to ask for story lines that let him "get in on the action" because being a firefighter on the show (for him) involves standing around and giving orders? 🤦‍♀️
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popculturebuffet · 3 years ago
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The Punisher (2001) #16 and 17 Review: The One Where Frank Castle Does Violence to Wolverine’s Testicles (Comission for WeirdKev27)
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Hello all you happy people. And for those just scrolling by the punisher, wolverine or x-men tags and wondering “wait did this actually happen” Yes, yes it did. This story not only happened but somehow Frank Castle taking a bat to Wolverine’s junk after making him look like a partially unfinished terminator is NOT the weirdest thing in this story. So if that’s got you hooked welcome, i’m jake, I review comics and animation and today we got a weird one and just in time too. 
See over the last week i’ve dealt with a lot. Last friday Bobbi, a woman who was like a third mother ot me, always there for me and mom, always nice, always taking us out to dinner.. passed away from cancer. It has been a hard week, harder still since I was SUPPOSED to have cut my schedule back by a day.. but the grief over the situation hit me so hard last week I had to push the watchmen review back to this week. So ending it by having a laugh at a so bad it’s good comic by a guy who actively hates superhero comics to an absurd degree, it helps honestly. I needed to review some garbage that dosen’t offend me on a deep level and is instead just fun to point and laugh at, and these issues delivered. 
So some backstory for those just joining us: Late last year I covered the fourth volume of The Boys Comic Book. It was a work I had avoided for years due to being an overly cynical, overly edgelord, and overly half assed deconstruction of superheroes by a man who openly did not grow up with them, does not like them and does not want to get how they work. As such I had to deal with panels.. like this. 
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(Not from the arc but I read all four volumes up to it so it goes in there) 
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I had to put up with this for THIRTY ISSUES to have proper context. This comic was worse than I could’ve imagined. 
So the reason I bring this up besides to let you feel my pain is that to properly research for this tire fire, I read this very arc i’m reviewing today for research, as I had heard ennis hated wolverine so much he had an arc where he gets his face shot off, gets hit in the junk, gets his dong shot, and then gets run over by a steamroller. And yes.. all that happens. This arc is a petty, spiteful take that at a character garth dosen’t like to glorify a character he idolizes. It is also incredibly stupid, mildly offensive, and insane in a way that really puts his “comics aren’t realistic but punisher is” brand of nonsense in perspective. And i’ll show you why under the cut as we point and laugh at Garth Ennis to show people why his hero is better than yours. 
So before we dive in, I should give my thoughts on what I think of the Punisher and Wolverine himself. 
For the Punisher.. i’m not a fan. He CAN be used well as seen when he intersects with daredevil, and i’ve LIKED some punisher runs. I still want to read war journal as what I have is really good, Ennis MAX run ironically enough is a brilliant decounstruction of the character , paticuarlly the bonechilling vietnam set “born” mini series that kicks it off, and while his other works are mostly questionable, I loved Matthew Rosenbergs run. The character can be well written and engaging... but he’s just not for me.. as for why it’s mostly a prefrence thing. I’m just not into taxi driver style dives into a bad man on the edge shooting people. I CAN enjoy psychlogical character pieces, I absolutely love american psycho for that, and darker subject matter.. but the punisher just never clicks for me. It’s all mostly just a cycle of examining a bad man doing thigns to worse men with no real change or upheavel. While given his recent work i’m not sure he can pull it off, at least jason aaron is trying something new making him head of the hand. Outside of some dallances with being a franketein or a war machine, Frnak’s really just stuck in a never ending feedback loop of misery. And while granted most heroes are prone to resetting, it’s a sad fate of comic books, frank is the most frustrating; He will NEVEr answer for the shit he’s done and given he could easily be replaced by someone else with a hard past in a gun, I don’t get why. If you like Punisher, tha’ts fine, good for you. But he’s not for me. With that said I did judge this comic fairly, as I said I liked ennis other punisher work and the character can be written well. This is just not one of his better stories.. and he’s been an angel once so that threshold is vast.  Next up is
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Who I do like quite a bit. Given i’m a fan of the x-men this shoudln’t be a huge suprise but while he’s not one of my personal faviorite mutants like say Cypher, Sunspot, Multiple Man, Strong Guy, Wolfsbane, Scarlet Witch (She’s still one to me dammit), Warlock or everyone’s faviorite sexy murder gilf Magneto, but I still like Logan quite a bit. He’s a character with a lot of intresting angels to approach from: he can be a man struggling with the beast within, a man whose lived a thousand lives and either has to recover them, reckon with them, or LIVE with those memories in the past few decades. On a team he’s invaluable, often serving as the suprising blunt voice of reason, willing to say shit people won’t or confront them and keep them honest, while also being a man so willing to stand up for his convictions he’ll split the x-men in half if that’s what it takes. I will concede though he’s very much a character whose tolerablility varies on thew riter: the good ones do the things I said above.. the bad ones will either reduce him to grumbly snikit man with no limits to who he won’t skewer instead of gneinely limiting it to what’s ABSOLUTELY necessary, or in worst cases have him try to murder a 15 year old time displaced cyclops because the future one, WHILE POSSED BY THE PHOENIX FORCE MIND YOU, killed Charles. Despite being a TEACHER. I.. I do not look forward to the inventible day I have to unpack the shit show that is All-New X-Men. But on the whole he’s a strong character and as we’ll get to in just a sec, Ennis REALLY dosen’t understand that nor did he care to. 
Before we get to that though we have our setup: The Punisher has, as he helpfully puts it himself so I don’t have to read the 15 issues prior, recently thrown the east coast mob into chaos: After taking down the head, Tony Casino, the body is left fighting amongst themselves in chaos.. which naturally benfits frank as it makes him easier to wipe out his preferred prey when their confused and makes things safer when they can’t function properly.  One of the remaning sub-bosses though, Big Tony Grigorio, is making some actual headway to getting everyone together so Frank plans to make his brains come apart.. only to find the place already massacred with all the legs sawed off. Ain’t that just the way? You break into a mob hangout to shoot them all up and someone’s taken all the fun out of it. And if you think there’s a mop in the punisher’s battle van.. well there is but it’s sure as hell not for this. It’s for keeping that van impaculate and choking info out of people, like all mops. 
The next scene we enter the wolverine..and if you’ve never read this issue before.. you aren’t prepared for the delightfully stupid clusterfuck that is Garth Ennis’ Wolverine
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OKay so as you might of noticed Wolverine sounds like the lovechild of The Ultimate Warrior and Scott Stieiner and is half as coherent. Ennis’ Wolvie is a rambly weirdo who won’t shut up, kills people over minor disputes, and calls himself the canucklehead for some reason, a phrase I don’t belivie has EVER been used for the character and if it has it’s not enough to warrant use this much in a parody. Seriously he calls himself that. 
Ennis’ wolvie TRIES to be a parody, Ennis trying to show how Wolvie just isn’t a good character and here’s why Punisher is better. And you CAN have your characters show why their better: one of the most famous superman stories “Whatever Happened To Truth, Justice and the American Way” is like that, having Superman fight a pastiche of the authority while showing why he still matters. But this isn’t a discussion on why a type of hero still works despite some audeinces finding him tiresome, or WHY wolverine might not work.  This is a  man getting paid actual dollary doos to write n edgelord fanfic about why wovlerine sucks. 
These issues try to sell it as frank is better.. but to even attempt so they essentially reset Wolverine to what he was like when he first joined the x-men. And make no mistake Early Wolverine is a massive walking erection who will kill anyone friend or foe and is barely kept in check by cyclops> Case in point here’ shim nearly murdering what would become one of his best friends over the dumbest reasons imaginable. 
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Yes that REALLY happened. and yes wolverine was a swaggering, chatty jackass who tried to murder a friend. The thing is.. he GREW from there. He slowly grew to care for his teamates, with again the guy he just tried to carve up like an mmmm turkey being one of his best pals to this day. He tried to reign himself in, slowly making it clear he hated being a savage beast of a man but had resigned himself to it. But it was also clear there was more to him: he had a snarky side, was loyal, and when backed against the wall in the dark phoenix saga, helped turn the tide against the hellfire club. This all cumilated in the classic Wolverine mini by Claremont and Miller, where Wolverine was driven to his lowest and forced to accept he truly was a man, defining his character forever after. Wolverine is a man who both struggles not to kill.. but accepts sometimes he must so the others don’t have to. While Frank Castle kills because he has a driven obession he needs health with and won’t stop till he’s dad, Logan does it so his friends will never have to become what he’s been forced ot be his whole life, and sometimes questions if he should even go that far. It’s who he is. 
And just to make sure Garth hadn’t just been commenting on a recent trend I peeked at a few issues of his solo, both form the time and a few years before that, just to see if this parody had any weight based on comics I hadn’t reader, and they are as follows for transparency purposes:
150, 158 (A Raptor), 189, 145, 131, 145, 147, 176, 181
And not only was Logan’s characterization consistent despite four or five diffrent writers, but the one time he was unstable.. was when he had been going feral for several months anyway, and was so laid low he was willing to work with apocalypse, itself not the best metric. And I checked some late 90′s x-men comics too just to be sure and while they aren’t the comics finest hour, still not rambling snikit bub. X-Men (Adjetivless to make sure logan was in it) 65, 74, 106, and 108. And as for the main title at the time of this book.. that waas New X-men.. which i’ve not only covered the three arcs of but was one of my faviorite comics... so yeah Garth isn’t even parodying some new phnemonion he stumbled acrossed. He made a judgey assumption instead of actually picking up a single issue of x-men or wolverine. And look it was the early 2000′s, i’m aware trades were in their infancy if they existed at all, and getting back issues probably wasn’t INCREDIBLY easy.. but Ennis has said himself on the boys that working at the big two he got to see plenty of comics, and given this was post comic bust it wouldn’t be THAT hard to say, go into a comic shop, check out the bargin bin and swipe a few issues of wolverine to check to see if your justified, especially since this is a CANON story starring this character. I’m mildly suprised he even got away with this, with the x-office not even bothering ot check what he was doing. I get punisher was overseen by marvel knights.. but marvel knights was canon. Karen Paige’s death has stuck with daredevil ever since and Black Panther still once beat Mephisto after he tricked a guy into selling his soul for some pants. 
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So there is NO excuse for not telling the x-office “hey is it cool of Garth fucks with your bread and butter? Kay thanks” The only reason the suprise is mild .. is that comic books have done this shit since time began. Simply allowed a character be poorly portrayed by a book or creator because of artstic lisence, the creator being a big deal or simply not giving a flying Liefield what someone does as long as the book makes money. No one CARED Logan would be portrayed like this because he still had his books and they still had their money and that’s sad. You should take more pride in your work than what money it makes you. I’m getting 10 bucks for this, but i’m doing this because I wanted to and i’m proud of what i’ve written thus far. I took the time and effort to again pick some issues at random and make sure wolverine really DIDN’T talk like this and that garth REALLY didn’t have a point. And it’s more time than garth, any of the editors on this, or anyone who worked on this artists, inkers down took to actually think about how terribly half assed this version of wolverine is and how it’s not some clever deconstruction but just stupid. It’s just dumb. Just a raging fanboy pointing out how much a character he dosen’t like blows and it shoudln’t of gone to print that way. Garth Ennis, Marvel, and The Punisher all can and have done better. 
Anyways now we’ve got the analysis squared away I can have fun with just how gloriously, stupidly insane this story and the old canucklehead are. So for the crime of some asshole at a bar calling him short, seriously that’s what kicked things off.. he darth vader’s the guy’s hand, then procedes to massacre the bar. Because when I think beserker rage I don’t think fighting goons for an evil clandestine orginzation, nazis or sentinels.. no I think a bunch of drunks in a bar Logan wouldn’t bother to actaully use his claws on if this comic didn’t come off like it was written with the magic of cocaine. 
So while this fracas goes on someone kidnaps the guy Frank was after later.. and chainsaws his legs off, as Wolverine can hear the chainsaw.. granted he does have hightned hearing, so that is possible it’s just.. weird these guys you know.. DID THIS IN THE BACK OF A CROWDED BAR. They clearly have sound baffling but like.... we see right after this they have a hidden tourture lair, with a LOT of kidnapped men literally cut down to the knees. So there’s NO reason to do it on site except the script said so and Garth was too busy focusing on ways to make wolverine sound like someone put ants in his brain to actually make the plot.. you know.. make sense. Oh also Pete, the guy that was kidnapped, plans to wait on his brother paulie.. only for him to show up .. like this
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And trust me folks.. you aren’t ready for the expination. Anyways Frank talks to his informant Soap, a former fbi man turned second rate Barbra Gordon who tells our protaganist that 8 other mobsters have been captured.. and might still be alive. 
So Frank naturally goes to a strip club for his next move
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And after casing the joint finds everyone knocked out via gas, and the music having been used to cover up the chainsawing leaving a bunch of legs and a  blood trail. Canucklehead follows the same trail... and also makes an intresting comment
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Yes but single amputatoin is fine.. I think Frank is trying to make him a hypocrite but again had to write Logan so out of character as to massacre a bunch of guys over a bar brawl that it looses the point. Not only that he’s TRYING to paint the punisher as better but...
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Garth also has FRANK do something out of character. And given Garth is good at writing him this sticks out. Frank killing a guy this way if he did something extra henious or Frank needed info I could buy. He has almost no limits when it comes to his work. The only solid one is “No killing innocents”. But doing it “just for variety” isn’t him. Frank has issues sure, and is a serial killer, clearly. But his methodlogy is doing this for a warped sense of justice and vengance, and doing it as efficently, quickly and brutally as possible. He’s not going to get bored, tired, or anything, he’s going to keep going until he dies. Nothing will slow him down and even if you took his legs and arms and left him blind and deaf, he’d find SOME way to still keep going the second he was able. Frank Castle is many things and most of them are bad.. but he is DRIVEN in the most horrifying way possible and thus woudln’t waste time doing this. 
So we naturally get to the fight.. and Wolverine is pitted as the bad guy.. despite the fact Frank is not only worse, but Logan has EVERY REASON to think Frank did this. He as far as I know dosen’t know frank well and to him he’s juts a serial killer no one’s been able to put down. 
Now to Garth’s credit the fight does go as it should.. Frank gets his ass handed to him. He blows wolverine’s face off, sure
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But Logan DOES have the upperhand the whole fight. The issue besides writing wolverine like he did all the cocaine in the NYC arc, is that Ennis treats Logan like some idiot who gets by purely on his powers and unbreakable claws. And that again.. is not the character. Part of why Logan’s deadly is that the unbreakable skeleton, the healing factor.. those are nice and defintley useful.. .but his main asset is he REALLY is the best at what he does. He’s been trained in ninjutsu, black ops, and all sorts of nasty stuff, and thus can kill like no one else. When up against an alien empire while fighting off one trying to make him into one of them, he still fought his way to the other x-men and freed them, single handed. If it was just raw power the brood would’ve killed his ass.. its his skill at what he does that makes him truly the best at what he does. Sure he loves a good scrap and diving into one.. but he can kick ass in 80 diffrent ways and taught Kitty Pryde how to do so, skills that have been invaulable since, and Jubilee got he same lessons. Logan is as skilled if not more than frank and were he not written like his brain was in beast’s lab for study that week and he was somehow still up and about despite that, Frank would be dead. 
I will say though that as infamous as this next moment is.. it is clever and does feel warranted. Since his junk apparently isn’t adamantium, I don’t know the mechanics of that honetstly maybe they just didn’t have enough for his dong but given it’s b een implied he’s had sex with MANY women since getting his skeltington, it clearly isn’t so he did his research on one thing at least?, Frank targets it
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As pety as this is.. I can’t help but laugh. it’s just fucking gloriously ludcrious yet unlike some things that are about to happen, fully in line with both characters and this universe. Before Frank can set him on fire, as you do, their interupted as the mysterious power behind these chainsawings announces itself over the pa and invites both to join.. .and says the mob will see the real power in this city “just as soon as we cut them down to size” and wellllll
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And the answers are somehow evne more insane than an army of gangster dwarfs surronding a faceless wolverine and the punisher. 
So after the two end up overwhelmed as Frank lacks a gun and Wolverine is coming down, we meet the boss , Tony Casnio, dwarf brother of the guy who frank killed and whose HAPPY his brother died. Besides the obvious power vacum Tony .. didn’t have the happiest last 35 years. See at fist Tony and his brother TOmmy were happy, loyal to each other.. but with Tony having dwarfisim, he was constantly tormented by his brother to make Tommy look better as time went on, with Tony slowly seething and plotting revenge. And once Frank left a power vacum because you know, he just kills people he dosen’t actually think of how to take them down and make them stay down, with his solution as we’ve seen being just kill the pieces, Tommy stepped in.. and see this would be fine. A dwarf mob boss is neat and him making his own mafia out of the disinfranchised from the various famillies and other bits of crime would be neat.. but then. .he outlines the rest of his plan...
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Okay.. so Garth. You mock superheroes, you hate the concept and have not been shy about it tha’ts fine.. but don’t tell me THIS is any less insane. Don’t tell me using people with dwarfisim as a fucking stupid punchline and having them create a slave race by cutting peoples legs off is any LESS rediculolus than any superhero comic. I have seen things like a chruch try to use nightcrawler as pope, scrooge mcduck buy a whole island ot teach his nephew a lesson and hammer head cause a NUCLEAR EXPLOSION in aunt may’s inhereted breeder reactior that blows up an entire canadian island.. and this is still easily one of the dumbest things i’ve seen. Not only is reducting a disablity to basically a punchline after trying to treat it with some respect incredibly dumb, the issue is called “aim low” for fucks sake, but the fact Gartht hought he had any amoutn of high ground after this arc in mocking superhero comics, to the point his final arc is mocking superheroes, is just..the funneist thing i’ve ever heard
SO naturally Frank says NOPE to that and to Ennis credit, and as we’ve seen he has about as good a credit as  Peter Parker, it’s why he has to web up bill collectors after all, he DOES give Frank good reasons to oppose them: to him killing these guys is just something that has to be done. Dosen’t make him right, god no, but it’s done out of duty. Tony.. is butchering people for revenge instead of simply rising above it. So frank pisses off wolverine into acting, which gets them away from them because he.. forgot he could overpower a bunch of normal people? ANd then when wolverine is clearly willing ot team up frank’s response is..
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Yeah as I said the first nut shot, while clearly in part ennis trying to humiate a character he dosen’t like.. is actually funny and clever. It’s frank simply finding a bat and using it, and an funny yet still awesome way to distpatch someone FAR above frank’s weight class. This one though? This is just ennis being petty and Frank being stupid. Ennis coudln’t stop at ONE nut shot, he had to go for two and make the second one even worse, while Frank.. throws away a useful ally for no reason. I get in this story WOlvie is basically a giant mallet but like.. your outgunned and outmanned frank, it pays to take what help you can get and save the nut shot for if he gets out of hand. 
So they try to cut WOlverine’s legs off with a chainsaw because this story has tgone so far off the rails it’s plowed into xavier’s school for gifted youngsters, but Frank frees wolvine, who gives Tommy some revenge by slicing his limbs off while his slave shoots himself. Frank mows everyone else down because punisher wins, and then rolls Logan over with a steamroller because Garth CLEARLY just had to get in one last petty shot. I mean i’d write it off as another quick gag if it wasn’t for the fact they spend TWO pages on this. So we end on frank killing all the amputees. YAY, one killer .. wins I guess
Final Thoughts; As you can tell this story is fucked.. but in the best way: from the edgelord humor to how cartoonishly over the top it is to how TRANSPARENT Ennis hate of logan is, this story while not good and certainly offensive, is fun to point and laugh at. I certainly did. If like me you coudl use a laugh.. this story isn’t bad. it was clealry itnended to be a comedy and it is.. just not how garth intended. The attmept at character assaination is so bad it just winds up being memorably funny instead. Maybe sometime i’ll review wolverine’s other apperance but until then follow for more, and thanks for reading. 
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disappearinginq · 3 years ago
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1, 3, 8, 15, 17, 18 and 25?
1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting? Courier New, because it's easier for me to see mistakes in it.
3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed? Just answered this for @21forestglades, and if I knew how to link the post, I would, but I'm old and tech un-savvy
8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go? Also just answered for @dragonnan - and still can't link it - but who would've thought THIS would be a popular question? :-D
15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?
I only don't read in the bath because we don't have a tub big/long/deep enough for an average adult human to fit in. But I tend to only mark books that I need to reference later, mostly because when I read, I want to be caught up in the story and have fun. Marking books is too much like school, which I hated (which seems to surprise people). I never felt the need to make notes on things that I didn't intend to write an essay on, but hey - judge not, and all that.
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
Oh, good god - given it's largely abandoned now thanks to the source material being meh: While I was still actively working on it, I probably could've given an in-country debrief on the Korengal valley circa 2013; access, flight paths, the languages most often spoken in the region, the strategic (or lack therof) value for the military, the relationship between the locals and the Taliban, common Taliban torture techniques, the personnel likely to be assigned there, how they were flown in, etc.
Second one: for Damnatio, I was probably on a terrorist watch list for the things I was looking up for crimes, cults, religions, archaeic lore, (i even bought an Enochian dictionary, cross referenced actual exorcist practices, brushed up on Latin - violent histories of places, jurisdictional crimes between LAPD and FBI, crime solve rates, read Mindhunters by John Douglas for a sneak peek into the minds of serial killers.
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
Ummmm. Hmm. You know what, I will pick one from something that remains unpublished:
“It’s different,” Bobby insisted. “Why?” “Because…because it’s -” Buck. It’s his kid, and he can’t survive losing another. Because it was different for Eddie and Christopher, because it wasn’t Christopher who was in danger. It wasn’t Eddie’s kid who was falling off of buildings, getting hit by booby-traps, literally walking through fire. Because it was his fault that Buck was hurt in the first place. His fault that the kid was injured in a bomb meant for him. He’d felt his world come to a screeching halt in those few minutes, unable to tell if Buck was dead or alive from where he had to stand. Unable to run to him, to do anything but stand helplessly behind the police line.
It's no secret, my favorite relationship on 9-1-1 is Buck and Bobby. I don't think Bobby would've ever recovered from losing his first family if he didn't have Buck in his second who refused to take no for an answer, and wouldn't let Bobby keep them all at arms length. And now that we know about Buck's backstory, we know why. But I also think watching Buck almost die from a bad guy after Bobby was one of Those Moments that should've been addressed in the show. And I can never find any gen fics in this fandom (with the except of @altschmerzes and @reywritesstuff and like...one other person), I wanted to write a story that really focused on Buck's need for a family, and Bobby's need to have someone to focus on besides the ones he lost.
25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?
I'm going to pick a different fic story: Buck in 9-1-1 falls on the ace spectrum, and the reason why he's so crap at romantic relationships is because he's never had anyone explain that there are multiple kinds of love, and trying to pigeonhole yourself into what everyone else wants thinking that this time it will be different because you just need the One.
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crazybagelbitch · 4 years ago
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29. “You could have warned me!”
“You could have warned me!” Maddie whisper yells, tugging on her brother’s sleeve until they’re in an empty corner of the firehouse.
“Warned you about what?” Buck asks with a confused laugh.
“That your cutest coworker is married so that I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up,” she says with a huff, cheeks flushed red at the admission but sue her, she’s pissed.
“Wait, Cap? You’re talking about Bobby? He’s like 50 Maddie, that’s 15 years older than you.”
“I know how math works, Evan,” she hisses, “had to take a couple of courses in nursing school. And no, not Bobby, and I already met him, remember? And his wife.”
It’s a thought she’d rather gloss over-- the fact that she’d already met her brother’s boss and his police officer wife with the wonderful first impression of “hi, just so you know I’m on the run from my ex-husband, any tips for him not finding me?” But it’s what happened, of course, Buck insisting they talk to Athena because she’s not just any cop but “a part of the family” Buck had said, even if right now the only family she has feels like Buck...
She’s sure they’re all wonderful people, but being the outsider with the tragic backstory feels just shy of mortifying.
“Okay, then who are you talking about? Because no one else is married. I mean, technically Eddie but he hasn’t seen his wife in years. Bit of a long story there.”
“Are you stupid or just forgetful enough that you hadn’t noticed the ring on your friend Chimney’s finger?” she whispers aggressively.
“Wait, Chimney?”
“Yes, Chimney,” she answers with an eye roll, “you could have warned me that you’re very handsome, very charming friend was married.”
“Hey, what happened to you not having any interest in dating anyone ever again?”
“That’s besides the point, Evan, it would have been fun to daydream.”
“Well...” Buck starts, blowing out a huge puff of air from his cheeks as he looks around, presumably double checking that nobody is listening in on them, “he’s not technically married anymore, Maddie. She died, he’s just... not ready to take the ring off yet, Mads.”
“...Oh,” she whispers, bringing a hand up to her forehead, “well now I feel like a jerk. How long ago did she die-- not that it’s any of my business, really.”
“Let’s see, the twins are turning two in a couple of weeks, so a little over half a year, I think.”
“Twins?” she asks, frowning, “she left him with two kids?”
“Well, she didn’t exactly mean to die, Maddie.”
“I’m not blaming her; you know what I mean, Evan,” Maddie groans, “but he has twin two year olds? All by himself? Please tell me you guys are helping him out as much as--”
“Of course we’re helping him, Maddie, he’s a member of our family,” Buck cuts in, rolling his eyes as he puts a hand on his sister’s shoulder, “and he lives with Hen and her wife and kid right now, so bit of a full house there but he has plenty of help with the boys.”
“Twin boys?” Maddie asks with a small smile.
“Yeah, Archie and Emmett. Archie’s pretty sweet and mellow and uh, Emmett... well, Chim is definitely going to go through what they call the terrible twos with him. He’s a bit of a monster, but in that adorable troublemaking kid way.”
“So they’re opposites, huh?”
“Like yin and yang,” Buck laughs, “funny how that works out. Though, Chimney’s a bit of a troublemaker himself, so no surprise one of his kids turned out that way, too. Archie’s just like his mom, though... or at least, as much as an almost two year old can be like their mom.”
“How’d she die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Car accident,” Buck sighs, “almost killed Chimney, too, but that’s another story. Thank god the kids were with Bobby and Athena that night.”
“Hey, did we scare your sister off already?” Bobby calls out with a laugh, approaching the two siblings, “we don’t bite, Maddie, I promise. No one here is bad as your brother, anyway.”
“Hey!”
“No one scared me off,” Maddie says with a smile, “just, you know, giving Buck a hard time. Gotta do it every now and then or his head gets too big.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“Again, hey!” Buck shouts, crossing his arms over his chest like an indignant toddler.
And speaking of toddlers, the man she’s just found out is a single father of two is the next to approach him, smiling that charming smile at the two of them. His eyes are crinkled up and his lips wide in a way that makes her start smiling back on instinct and if Buck hadn’t told her how his life had gotten absolutely turned upside down less than a year ago, she genuinely would have had no idea that he’s been living through such tragedy.
“Hey Buckaroo, stop hiding your sister from the rest of us. Took you long enough to introduce her to use, anyway.”
“That wasn’t my choice,” Buck huffs, “Maddie’s shy.”
“I am not shy,” Maddie insists, blushing again, “I’m just busy as an ER nurse and I’m sure a bunch of first responders would understand that.”
“Oh, we do,” Chimney nods enthusiastically, and she hates how charmed she is by this man because her mind should absolutely not be going there for several reasons, “sometimes I think we’ve got it bad with the crazies on Halloween or a full moon, but I’m sure the emergency room bears the fuller brunt of it.”
“You’d be correct,” she agrees easily, “though I’m sure what you get to see in the back of an ambulance could be pretty crazy, too.”
“And you’d be correct, too,” he laughs, throwing his head back and Buck must feel the endearment radiating off of her because he nudges her arm with a laugh of his own and she’d glare at him if Chimney weren’t right in front of her, “we should swap horror stories sometimes, see how they’d match up.”
“We should,” she smiles, about to launch into a funny story from the day before when the bell goes off.
“It was nice meeting you,” Chimney says, quickly reaching out to shake her hand, “don’t be a stranger. Don’t know what Buck has or hasn’t told you about us, but we’re way cooler than he is.”
“Hey!” Buck shouts again in a huff, and then they’re gone, running off towards the fire truck.
It feels lonely in a way that it shouldn’t, and she takes a deep breath and reminds herself of two very important things.
He’s just lost his wife.
And my husband could show up and kill me at anytime.
No, she cannot go there. She absolutely cannot.
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fanaticwritings · 6 years ago
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His Secret - CHAPTER 1
Sam Winchester x Reader [AU]
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A/N: This series was lowkey inspired by a book I read and also another favorite character of mine. (Bonus points to those who can guess which character I’m talking about XD) Thanks to @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba for being kind enough to brainstorm and lay the story line out with me. Couldn’t have done this without your help <3 The aesthetic was made by me, pictures courtesy of pinterest.  I am really really excited about this series and hope you guys like it too.
my masterlist
word count: 1.9k
warnings: implied smut and loads of backstory
S A M
Sam Winchester twisted the key and the car whirred to life. The steering wheel felt smooth under his hand, spinning at the lightest touch. The XXW Mary sped out of the parking lot and Sam pushed down on the accelerator. The car roared and lurched forward. In the matter of a few seconds it was breaking lightning speed. It screeched as Sam made turn after turn, testing the limits of the beautiful black vehicle.
The car was the newest product of his brother’s, Dean Winchester's company and equipped with technology from his own. Sam made another swift turn at the next corner, as the road widened out ahead of him. He was almost there. The sky grew darker as night settled in, the tall buildings almost camouflaging into the velvet of the obsidian sky. He pulled to a stop in front of the hall, heart thudding against his chest. In spite of having done this for four consecutive years, he hadn't gotten used to it. He stepped out onto the red carpet and was instantly greeted by shouts and blinding camera flashes. Sam stood there for a heartbeat, letting the cameras capture his dazzling smile and then handed the car keys to the valet. The paparazzi followed him, as he made his way up the stairs of the hall. "The car looks new, Mr. Winchester. New item the Winchester Mobile Ltd. bringing out this year?" "Yeah. It's equipped with some of the latest Winchester Tech and is easy on the eyes," he answered, flashing a brilliant smile. He could see the headlines tomorrow. Sam Winchester confirms launch of the XXW Mary. He continued to talk about the car for the next few minutes, letting the cameras and microphones record his words. It was all he had to do for publicity. Draw them in and hype it up. He made his way up the stairs, determined to get away from the swarm of paparazzi. "What's the next big thing for Winchester Corp?" "Who are you dating?" They quizzed him mercilessly but he didn't take the bait- Only smiled and winked at them. He was thankful when he reached the top and walked into the hall, leaving the wave of cameras behind him. He was immediately greeted by Dean, his brother and also the most important person in his life. "Hiya, Sammy," Dean said, embracing him. He smiled at him appreciatively and for a moment Sam was whisked back in time. Jo Harvelle, Dean’s girlfriend, stood beside him, smiling. Sam embraced her too. Guests continued to pour in behind him. Associates of the corps, big names in the city and a few family members. Media partners were present too and were walking around, talking to the guests. Every year, the Winchester brothers held a benefit in the memory of their loving mother on her birthday. The proceeds of the benefit would all be donated to “Wings“- a charitable foundation, which looked after orphaned/abandoned children and underprivileged mothers-to-be. Sam spotted Castiel Novak standing with Mr. Azel, one of the oldest associates of the corporation. Cas was one of the most senior members of the company and also happened to be Sam and Dean's best friend. His blue eyes instantly lit up at the sight of his tall friend. Sam greeted Mr. Azel too, extending a polite hand. Mr. Azel shook his hand firmly. He had a very unsettling smile but one that Sam was used to, having had to do business with him for the longest time. He excused himself politely and ran into yet another associate. He was getting desperate now. He was listening to the elderly associate intently but his hazel eyes darted around the hall, in search for someone else. There she was, leaning against an ivory pillar, drinking champagne from a delicate glass. His nerves calmed on their own accord. He made his way to her quickly and before she could even say anything, pulled her into a warm embrace. "Heya to you too, handsome," she said when he finally pulled away from her. Y/N. The love of his life. She looked resplendent in the silver gown that shimmered into gold when she moved. The delicate rings of diamond that looped through her ears, accentuated her features perfectly. Her hair was in an up do, a few loose curls making look even more enticing. It was mesmerising, but nothing compared to the beauty that she herself was. Y/N grounded him and understood him like no one else. It hadn't taken him long to fall for her. "Late to your own event, Mr. Winchester?," she teased, glancing at an imaginary watch on her hand. "Yup," he said, winking at her. "Finished with the meet and greet?" She asked again. He wanted to kiss her but it was too crowded for it to be possible. Besides, news reporters were around. "Sadly, no. Don't you see the crowd?" he replied, gesturing at the public. She made a face at that and he fell even more in love with her in that instant, if that was even possible. "You go finish with that and come back to me soon," she commanded. He would incline to her request at this very instant if he could. He nodded his head in acknowledgement before kissing her cheek lightly, unable to resist the urge and then walked away. He had to talk a lot throughout the evening, something he grew easily tired of. It was in his job description to do so, but he couldn't for the life of him, ever get used to it. Running such a giant company was no piece of cake. He loved his company, there was no doubt about it. He poured his heart and soul into the work he did and never questioned it. However, there were certain aspects to it that he couldn’t help but dislike. Winchester Corp was founded and owned by John Winchester, Sam and Dean's father, until the great tragedy that befell them. Everybody had heard the story one too many times. On the fateful night of November 2nd, 1985, the Winchester House caught on fire. Both Mary and John Winchester, did not make it. John had escorted Dean and Sam outside, who were six and two years old at the time, respectively. The fire had consumed half of the house by then and John had rushed in to rescue an unconscious Mary. 
He never made it back. 
The police had confirmed that it had been an accident. The power lines had short circuited somehow and that was it. Winchester Corp saw it's downfall after the tragedy, with nobody to man it. None of the associates owned enough share in the company to become the next owner. All the beneficiaries were passed down to Sam and Dean, according to the company policy, but they were not of age. Until either of the sons became of age, the organisation was ruled to be in charge of their uncle Bobby Singer. He couldn’t help the company much, having had to deal with his own issues at the time. Winchester Corp was almost on the verge of bankruptcy, having managed on the shoulders of a few faithful associates, until Sam and Dean who were just 19 and 15, took the wheel into their own hands. They then began to restore the company back to its full glory. Ten years later, Winchester Tech- lead by Sam and Winchester Automobile Pt. Ltd.- lead by Dean, united under the Winchester Corp brand, became two of the biggest companies in the world. The brothers seem to have moved on with their lives, to the world. But only their closest knew that their past still haunted them. The benefit came to an end after Sam declared the final funds they had managed to raised, with Dean clapping by his side cheerfully. The cheque was handed over to the representative from the charity and after a few drinks, the crowd parted. "Finally," Y/N said as she walked over to Sam, the gown shimmering at her every step. Sam was in awe. It was only them, Dean and Jo now.   Sam smiled down at her as she looped her arm through his and they walked outside, along with Dean and Jo. Sam and Dean talked alone for a while, immersed deep in the conversation while Y/N and Jo chatted with each other. Sam was still distracted by her, he had barely seen her all week and hadn’t been able to spend any time with her today either. Their timings rarely matched. She would be called for work randomly and he had a company to man. How they still managed to love each other, was something neither of them knew. Maybe, some things were just meant to be. Finally, Sam and Dean broke apart and made their way to their respective cars. "Come home with me?" Sam whispered to her when they were finally alone by the car, brushing his lips against her ear. She nodded a yes, clearly having missed him too. She wanted to say something, it shone in her eyes but she chose not to. Sam didn’t press her. The city blurred around them as they drove by. Y/N looked out the window the entire time, barely saying anything. Sam stole occasional glances at her and she looked beautiful then too. If he could, he'd stop the car right now and show her just how much he had missed her. "Look at the road, Winchester," she murmured, not sparing him a glance. Sam smiled as he pulled into the parking lot. The moment they were at the two storey house, Sam slammed himself against Y/n and sealed her lips with a kiss. Frantic hands found her waist and he pulled her close until not even a hair width of distance separated them. God, he had missed her so much. Later, they lay in bed, holding each other.
"You okay?" she asked him, pulling herself to him. Y/N knew all too well how being social took a toll on him. It was tiring, pretending to be someone he wasn't- all smiles and perfect posture. There was no way around it though and he tried his best to get used to it. It was slow and painful but he tried. There was also something else on his mind, however. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to sleep, baby. You have to wake up early tomorrow," he said, curling her hair behind her ear. "I’m proud of you," she murmured, sighing deeply. Sam smiled at her and pecked her forehead. Her words had assured him, somehow. A moment later, she was fast asleep. Sam waited an hour, listening to her rhythmic breathing and soft snores. He smiled internally. How he had gotten so lucky, he'd never know. If two months ago someone would've told him that he was going to meet the love of his life, he would've laughed at them. He got up gingerly, shifting incredibly slowly so as to not wake her up. She mumbled something in her sleep as he placed her back on the bed. She shifted a little and then stilled again. Making sure that she was still asleep, Sam put on a t-shirt, a jacket and a pair of tracks. He pocketed his phone and a wad of cash that he carefully took out of his safe. He closed the door slowly, watching Y/N all the while. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. He almost didn't want to leave her; it was a feeling he had to push away every time. He locked the door behind him with a soft click. Soon, he was out the door and past the gates of the large villa. The security guards didn’t stop him. They were used to this. He pulled his hoodie over his head in a way that shadowed his face completely and trudged off into the night. // Feedback is my elixir, people! Please please let me know what you think of this fic!! It’s what keeps me going. Leave a comment/ ask <33 //
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imagining-supernatural · 8 years ago
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Tell Me
Summary: Sam has this habit of distracting you every time he comes to visit. Working out more, forgetting to wear a shirt, you know the drill. But what happens when he finds a way to distract you when you’re in class as well?
Word Count: 5187 (got a little carried away. Not sorry at all)
Warnings: Implied smut. Sam Fucking Winchester (let’s be honest here, he is a warning all in himself)
A/N: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​‘s fic Sexy Bastard is the fic that started this whole thing. Seriously, as soon as I read her summary “Sam is a fucking tease, okay?” I knew that I was done for. I’ve been working on this for an entire week because it just had to be done. Also, perfect timing! Happy Birthday Sam Winchester, you tease!
Tell Me English Masterlist -- Dime Masterlist en Español
“How about that homework last night?” Jonathan asked, sliding into his normal seat beside you.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Nelly groaned, turning in her chair to talk to you two. “Lil and I worked on it for six hours and we still don’t know if we did it right.”
“Right?” You agreed emphatically, getting war flashbacks to your battles with the case study and your excel spreadsheet. “I swear, we haven’t even learned half of the stuff it was asking us to do.”
Rhetta pushed her chair closer and you fought to hold back your eye-roll. Here comes her self-righteous, better-than-you speech. “Actually, we learned about the regression analysis last week, and it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to answering question five from there.”
How about you just hop, skip, and jump away from us?
There was no way you would ever say that aloud, though. As a closed-off, borderline-shy person, you avoided conflict at all costs, and telling Rhetta to get lost would just light her fuse and it would only be a matter of time before you got in a fight.
When no one replied, Rhetta just smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I thought it was easy, at least.”
“At least one of us feels good about it,” you finally said. That satisfied her need to feel superior, and she finally rolled away. Nelly and Jonathan started discussing the assignment, sharing their woes. You were about to jump in when you heard an all-to-familiar voice, causing your head to snap over towards the teacher.
“Hi there, I’m Doctor Peralta. I believe you got my email about observing your class today?”
Standing there, introducing his fake self to your professor was none other than Sam Winchester. He caught your eye and winked, instantly dousing your face in pink blush. When your professor responded to him, Sam looked away from you. Now that he wasn’t watching you, the coast was clear to check him out.
Check him out to see if you could figure out why he was here, you meant. Not check him out, like check him out.
Though there was a fair amount of checking him out too, if you were being honest with yourself.
And dammit all if your mouth felt dry just looking at him. You’d seen Sam Winchester many times since Bobby took you in after your parents died, but you’d never seen him in a suit. The stark white shirt playing against his slightly tanned skin and the dark grey suit coat stretching across his shoulders. From the many times he’d walked around Bobby’s shirtless, doing pushups on the living room floor, or helping Bobby on the cars, you knew that the shoulder pads weren’t doing much padding. That man was all muscle.
His fingers—god, his fingers—started undoing the button on his suit coat, and your eyes snapped back to his. Your eyes locked onto his again, and your face inflamed even more at being caught checking him out. Just as he always did when he caught you staring, he tilted his head a little and raised his eyebrows as if asking a question. But he wasn’t asking a question. He just knew that calling you out made you even more embarrassed, and that was apparently his mission in life.
“Who is that?” Rhetta asked, once again asserting herself into your group.
The way she was staring at Sam, like he was going home with her tonight, lit a fire within you. She had no right to be looking at Sam like that. Sure, he wasn’t yours. But he sure as hell wasn’t hers.
“You don’t know who that is?” By the tone of your voice, everyone could tell that you thought the answer was obvious. “Seriously, Rhetta? That’s Doctor Peralta.”
“Doctor Peralta?”
“Yeah.” Time to concoct a backstory that hopefully wouldn’t clash with the one that Sam had prepared for himself. “Doctor Peralta. He’s, like, the most sought after business consultant in the Northern Hemisphere. He’s consulted Google and Berkshire and Koch and Apple.”
Her eyes narrowed. While she thought through your explanation, you glanced back over at Sam just in time to see him laugh at something your professor said to him and Sam Winchester’s laugh, well, it wound its way into your body and sent the neurons firing.
Class today was going to be a disaster. There was no way you would be able to focus for the rest of the day.
“I can’t find him on Google,” Rhetta snottily drew your attention back to her.
For once you knew something she didn’t. So as your professor got everyone’s attention, you whispered something back to her, knowing that it would drive her crazy. She prided herself on always being able to find the answer. She always had to be right. Well, not this time. “Maybe you’re just spelling his name wrong.”
Your victory over Rhetta, knowing that she would be too proud to ask how to spell his name, was briefly lived, since Sam commanded your attention once again, and in your weird friendship, he had all the power whether he knew it or not.
“Class, this is Doctor Peralta. He will be observing our class today for his research.”
“Research?” Rhetta whispered to you. “Not consulting. Looks like you don’t know anything either.”
Sam caught your eye as he began his mini-speech, flicking his gaze behind you to Rhetta for a moment. “Hi, everyone. As your professor said, I’m Doctor Peralta. I’m taking a sabbatical from my consulting work to research several graduate programs around the nation. Just pretend like I’m not here and do whatever you do. Don’t let the fact that I’ll be watching you distract you from your schoolwork.”
Of course he would say that last part to you. He kept his eyes on you dangerously longer than necessary, considering there were twenty other students in the classroom.
As class started, Sam took an empty seat in the back of the room, directly across from you. These U-shaped classrooms were great for classroom discussion, but not so good at avoiding someone’s gaze.
You tried to pay attention. You really did. But your professor wasn’t remotely as interesting as watching Sam take off his jacket and sling it across the back of the empty chair next to him. You couldn’t focus on practice problems when Sam’s white dress-shirt did absolutely nothing to hide the ripple of his muscles every time he moved.
Finally you had to completely turn to face the board, rest an elbow on the table beside you, and use your hand to shield your vision from Sam. For a good three minutes, you managed to at least keep your eyes on the board. And you were finally starting to get back into the groove when your phone vibrated.
Sam: Hey
Dammit. You dropped your hand and looked over at him, only to see that he was purposefully looking at anyone else but you. And it was on purpose. You knew it from the smile he was barely holding back.
Y/N: What are you doing here?
Sam: Hunt. Ghost.
That was highly unlikely. This building was the newest on campus. There were dozens of other, much older buildings.
You made a show of putting your phone in your backpack and went back to trying to ignore Sam. Which was a complete failure, you might add. You could feel Sam’s eyes on your skin every single time he looked at you. Even from across the room, you could swear that you heard the tap, tap, tap of his laptop keys as he typed out his fake notes. And dammit all if he looked amazing, even in these harsh fluorescent lights.
Finally class ended and chatter started up as everyone started packing away their books and papers. You slowly slid your binder into your bag, keeping Sam in the corner of your eyes at all times. He wasn’t about to catch you off-guard.
You tracked him as he prowled towards you. When he stopped in front of you and tapped his fingers on the table, you looked up at him.
“Miss Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again.”
Okay. That’s the story he was going with. Apparently Y/N Y/L/N had known Doctor Peralta from sometime in the past. Time to play along. “You too, Doctor Peralta. How’s your brother doing?”
“Good, good. He’s just working the job, you know. And your dad?”
“Asks about you every time I talk to him.” That wasn’t a lie. The Winchesters often came up in conversation with you and Bobby, your only living father figure. “You really helped him out.”
“Excuse me,” Rhetta inserted herself in. “Doctor Peralta, I’m Rhetta Esquire. I’m the number one ranked student in the program. If you have any questions, I would love to help you with your research.”
Sam barely acknowledged her. “Thank you. But I was actually hoping that Miss Y/L/N would be available?”
“How do you two know each other?” Rhetta asked, not giving you a chance to answer Sam.
“Oh, we go way back,” Sam replied, winking at you. You averted your eyes, yelling at yourself to get it together!
Whatever. Two can play at this game. You were in grad school for crying out loud. Cutthroat, pushy, grad school. You could definitely handle Sam Winchester.  
“Yeah. You should’ve seen Peralta here try and change his nephew’s diaper for the first time. No one told him that baby boys become fountains as soon as the diaper comes off. His hair smelled like pee for days.”
“Aww, you have a nephew?” Rhetta latched onto the image of Sam with a baby and—dammit! Now you couldn’t get that image out of your head. It was crowding its way into the portion of your brain where all of your shirtless Sam memories danced around with the relaxed Sam who was laughing with a bottle of beer in his hand. Now there was the image of Sam with his fake nephew, cooing and being generally adorable thrown in the mix and your fantasies suddenly became bigger.
Well, your plan to play game backfired magnificently.
“Yeah,” Sam tossed an amused glare your way. “He’s adorable when he’s not screaming.”
“Anyway, I have to get to my next class. It starts in a few minutes.” You had to get away from Sam for your own sanity. “I’ll call you after I get off work tonight and you can ask me your questions then?”
Then Sam smirked and your stomach sank. “Sure. But can you point me towards room 483? I need to observe Professor Braker’s class next.”
There was absolutely no way that this was for a case. No way in hell. If it was for a case, then Sam wouldn’t be following you around. Still, as it was, you had to give him a tight smile since Rhetta was still there. “Sure thing. I’ll take you there.”
Like the true gentleman that he was, Sam grabbed your backpack and slung it across a shoulder. As soon as you were in the crowded, noisy hallway with Sam’s hand resting lightly on your back, you hissed up at him. “Sam, what the hell?”
“I told you. A hunt.”
“For a ghost in the newest building on campus? I think you’re just stalking me.”
“Now why would I do that?” He asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead. But there was still that infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Whatever. I hope you like Strategic Supply Chain Management, because you’re about to spend two hours hearing all about it.”
Sam pulled to a stop just outside of the classroom door and handed you your backpack back. So quickly that you were sure you just imagined it, he brushed his fingers along your cheek, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Y/N, if you think I’m gonna be focusing on the lecture, you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for.”
And just like that, he was gone. With his words rattling around in your head, you followed him into the room and made your way to your normal seat. As you sat down, you aimed a calculating gaze at Sam as he introduced himself to your professor. What had he meant by that?
“Greg?” You spun your chair towards your friend. “I have a favor to ask.”
“One… second…” Greg finished typing whatever he was doing on his laptop before giving his full attention to you. “What’s up?”
“I need you to flirt with me. I mean, not like, flirt-flirt. Just flirt. In a completely platonic way, you know? Like, not for real but—” Man, you were really murking this up.
Luckily for you, Greg was a pretty laid back guy. He only got intense when you argued about the stock market. So he just appeared amused by your rambling rather than concerned. “What’s going on, Y/N?”
With a sigh, you came up with as good an explanation as you could muster. “I need to test a theory. If you flirt with me and I flirt back, then I might make someone jealous. And then I’ll know if I’m right or not.”
“Who?”
“Don’t judge me,” you muttered. “It’s Doctor Peralta. That guy with Professor Braker. He’s an old family friend and I’m pretty sure that he’s spent the last few years, I don’t know, teasing me? Like, he’s always working out when he comes to visit. He’s not wearing a shirt more often than he is. He’s incredibly smart and he knows it, so he makes sure that I know it. And I think he knows that, well, I’m into guys like that.”
Greg leaned back in his chair and watched Sam out of the corner of his eye for a moment, which meant that you did too. Sam’s soft chuckle galloped across the room and rained down on your skin.
“Hey, Y/N,” Greg’s voice was slightly louder than it had just been. “What are you doing tonight?”
Torn out of your Sam haze, you were a little confused at first. Then you remember that you, quite literally, had asked for this. “Nothing. Probably just putting of some homework. Why? You have a better idea?”
“Yeah, I do.” Greg rolled his chair forward a little. “My friend just moved into town and we’re celebrating at that bar on fourth. Whaddaya say to being my date so I’m not the awkward third wheel to him and his wife?”
“Oh, come on. You could never be a third wheel,” you reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm lightly.
“Not with you there.” His head tilt and raised eyebrow in question.
With a shy smile, you glanced down at your books for a moment before looking back at Greg, just as you would have if this had been him really asking you out. “Yeah. That sounds like fun.”
“Almost as fun as our study sessions?”
That one got a real laugh out of you. “Except with alcohol.”
As your professor called the class to order, Greg pushed his chair closer, slung his arm across your shoulders and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “By the way, if you really wanna come tonight, you can. But I’ll take it as a bad sign if you show up because you’ve got that Peralta guy wrapped around your finger.”
You immediately sought out Sam and noted the tight set of his jaw and the way he was pointedly not looking at you. Maybe Greg was right. Maybe you were right. Maybe Sam really was teasing you more than to just make you blush.
So as soon as Sam started introducing himself and his purpose, you turned to whisper to Greg, purposefully keeping your face as close to his as you could. “I’m new to this… whole thing. How do I make my move without it being awkward?”
“What am I, your love guru?”
“Yes,” you said with fake seriousness. “As my friend and study buddy, it’s your duty to also be my love guru.”
Rolling his eyes slightly, Greg considered for a moment. Then he smiled mischievously. “You ever see How I Met Your Mother?” When you nodded, he went on. “Naked man.”
His unexpected suggestion coaxed a bark of laughter out of you, cutting Sam off. With a sheepish look, and trying to suppress your smile, you muttered a soft, “Sorry.”
Sam kept his hazel eyes on you for a moment longer before wrapping up his introduction and taking a seat on the opposite side of the room. You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you turned your attention back to Greg.
“I can’t do the naked man.” You tried to picture yourself waiting for Sam in your apartment, completely naked, but you just couldn’t. Hell, you needed help just to learn how to make a move. Waiting for a guy, completely naked was just way out of your comfort zone.
Just then, you made the mistake of imagining Sam doing the naked man. You could picture it. The squeak of your door as you closed it behind you, twisting the lock. Walking into your room and being greeted with the glorious sight of Sam Winchester and that irresistible smirk that would be the only thing he was wearing.
Your eyes wandered over to him and the way his muscles filled out his shirt. The way his hair brushed at the collar. The way his fingers tapped away at his laptop. And the way his eyes were burning into yours, seeing way too much.
He cocked his head slightly, eyeing you thoughtfully.
“Keep it in your pants until after class,” Greg whispered amusedly, jerking you away from your tunnel vision.
“What?” At your question, Greg just gave you an are you kidding me look before turning his attention back to the lecture. Unfortunately for you, Sam chose that moment to roll his sleeves up to his elbows, keeping his eyes on you the whole damn time. There was no way you would be able to pay attention to the lecture today.
*****
The sound of your front door opening put you on high alert and you reached for where you had a gun hidden in your bathroom drawer, but then the voice that called out made you relax.
“It’s just me!” Dean yelled. He quickly found his way to the bathroom where you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Damn! You look hot, Y/N.”
You tried to cover up your blush with a coy smile. “Thank you, Dean. Where’s Sam?”
He leaned against the door jamb, dragging his eyes over your body appreciatively. Sure, Dean’s attention was unfamiliar and made you blush, but not to the degree that Sam’s attention did. “He’s getting something from the car. What’s up? You got a hot date tonight?”
“Kind of,” you hedged, slowly untwisting your mascara wand.
“Kind of? What kind of date is that?”
You glanced at Dean’s reflection and saw that he was watching you carefully, trying to puzzle this situation out. As much as you would love to be confident in Greg’s assessment of your weird relationship with Sam, you trusted Dean’s opinion much more. Maybe it would be best to test out your theory on him before you made an utter fool of yourself in front of Sam.
“I have a question.”
“Shoot.” Dean shrugged off the wall and settled himself down on your toilet.
How to phrase this? “What’s Sam like when I’m not around?”
Dean just raised an eyebrow, asking for more information. You surrendered to the conversation, setting down the mascara and giving Dean your full attention. “Like, does he walk around shirtless as much as he does when you guys came to visit Bobby? Does he really work out as much as he does around me? Or is that just some sort of macho, show-off thing? And what is the deal with him stalking me in class today?”
Just then the front door opened, closing your window of opportunity. Dean just laughed, stood up, and walked over until he was behind you. With a gentle hand on your waist and his lips at your ear, he winked at you in the mirror. “You have great instincts, Y/N. Trust in yourself.”
“So I found some lore on—whoa.” Sam rounded the corner and came to a halt as soon as he saw you.
Sam’s reaction and the wink that Dean threw your way just then set your face aflame and you quickly turned back to the mirror, trying to focus on your mascara. “You two sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”
“Since Y/N has a hot date tonight, I’ll go grab us some grub,” Dean said. He wrapped his hand around your waist and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. As he pulled away, he whispered for your ears only. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
You watched Dean walk away and felt a sudden rush of confidence. If Dean thought that you weren’t even going to make it out of your apartment, and Greg wasn’t expecting you to show up, then maybe Sam really was trying to go out of his way to impress you because he liked you.
“You don’t think the dress is too drab?” You asked, turning to face him and holding your hands out to the side. You’d gone for a black, scoop neck dress with wide straps on the shoulders. The dress cut in at your waist, then flowed away in a skirt that was shorter in the front than in the back. From the front it was a perfectly acceptable daytime dress. But when you turned around, miles of skin on your back was showcased as the straps on the shoulder broke into smaller straps.
The dress had been sitting in the back of your closet for nearly a year, ever since your friend convinced you to buy it even though you knew that you would never find the occasion to wear it.
But now you were thanking her profusely.
“Uh, no. Not drab at all.”
While Sam dragged his eyes up your body—and you noted that he definitely took his time—you were trying to work up the courage to make a move. But when his eyes landed on yours, your mind suddenly went blank and you chickened out.
Looks like you were going to be Greg’s date tonight.
Trying not to let your disappointment in yourself show, you finished with your mascara and went back to fixing your hair. You’d curled it, then used a plethora of bobby pins to pin it up into an up-do that looked like it was natural, but still like you tried. However, the stupid bobby pins just wouldn’t keep your hair where you wanted it.
“Here,” Sam stepped up behind you and you froze when the heat of his body brushed against your bare back. “Let me.”
He snatched the pin from your fingers and you tried not to react too much as he gently pinned your hair in place, completely focused. Just feeling his fingers in your hair, brushing along your neck, resting on your bare shoulders…
Then he took a step back and stark, cold air rushed between you. “Your date’s a lucky guy.”
That made you mad. He sounded so forlorn and jealous and slightly annoyed. It was the tone of defeat. That was that moment that all of your shyness and careful instincts disappeared and you whirled around, pushing at Sam. Your movement caught him by surprise and he stumbled back a step until he hit the wall.
“Screw you, Sam!”
“E-excuse me?”
“You don’t get to be jealous. You don’t get to be mad or annoyed or, or, or whatever the hell you’re feeling. You’ve spent years teasing me. Years making me blush and making me fall for you. And as soon as it looks like I’m into some other guy you roll over and give up? I give you a taste of your own medicine for less than a day—and a horrible taste of your own medicine, I may add because Lord knows that I can not flirt to save my life—and that’s it? You’re over it? So yeah. Screw you.”
Fuming, you stalked out of the bathroom and headed to your room, aiming for the strappy heels you’d bought with the dress. Apparently you were just a game to Sam. As soon as you weren’t a fly caught in his trap anymore, he lost interest. As soon as it looked like you weren’t wrapped around his finger anymore, he didn’t care about you.
Well, you know what? Maybe it was time to use your frustration and anger to actually live your life. Get out of your shell. Maybe Greg could help you with that. Help you loosen up.
You grabbed your shoes and your keys and turned around, not even bothering to put the shoes on. You could do that later. Right now, all that you wanted to do was get away from this embarrassing situation. Eventually your brain was going to catch up to your mouth and you wanted to be far away and halfway drunk by the time that happened.
Who knew that for three smart people, you, Greg, and Dean could all be so horribly wrong about Sam?
When you turned to leave your room, Sam was standing in the doorway, blocking your exit.
“Move.”
“No.” He crossed his arms across his chest and you wondered if he purposefully flexed his muscles or if it was just natural.
“I’m not gonna ask you nicely, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
“Tell me that you want me to move. Tell me that you want to go to that stupid bar with that guy. Tell me that you don’t want to be here with me, alone in your apartment.” He slowly started walking forward, looking very much like a predator stalking its prey. Each word he spoke brought his voice closer to a growl, and you were frozen in place.
“Tell me that you don’t want my hands all over your body. Tell me that you didn’t spend hours getting ready just for me. Tell me that you’d rather be at a dingy old bar rather than on your bed right there.”
Your feet were glued to the floor when Sam came to a stop right in front of you. The fabric of his shirt barely brushed at your dress and he ghosted his hands over your arms and shoulders, not quite touching you. He lowered his head and you unconsciously lifted your chin until you could feel his forehead and nose bumping yours, his warm breaths cascading over your lips like a waterfall.
“Tell me that you haven’t imagined what it would feel like. To have my fingers digging into your skin. To feel my lips on every single inch of your perfect body. To scream my name.”
Sam pulled back and his eyes latched onto yours with a dangerous glint. “Tell me that’s not what you want. Then I’ll move.”
The air was heavy like just before storm hits. You’d forgotten how to breathe, and your body yearned for Sam. You exhaled his name, barely moving the air, but it was enough to bring out Sam’s insufferable smirk.
“I’ve seen you, you know,” he continued. “How you watch me when I work out. I’ve noticed the way your face heats up. I bet you want to feel me, don’t you?” One of his hands finally landed on you, brushing along the exposed skin of your back and you were so worked up by just his voice that it was a struggle to bite back your whimper. You weren’t about to let him win quite yet. “You want to feel my body holding yours down on the bed or against a wall or even on a table. You wanna feel the way I would move inside of you.”
Your heart was already beating way too fast when Sam suddenly pressed against your back, sending you stumbling into his body. The soft fabric of your dress and thin tee-shirt he was wearing were flimsy barriers. Those firm, intoxicating muscles you’d spent hours memorizing over the years were hard against your soft curves. You brought your hands up to his waist for balance, though the way he was holding you wouldn’t have let you move anyway.
Sam’s voice was little more than a growl at your ear as his fingers dug and massaged their way up your back. “I’d make you beg for it, Y/N. I’d bring you to the edge so many times until you couldn’t take anymore. Even then, I would take my time. Get to know your body. How you respond. The way you move. What feels good. What feels insanely good.”
“Shit, Sam,” your voice was barely a whisper.
“You think I’ve been a tease, Y/N?” He nipped at your jaw. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” Then he suddenly stepped back and you nearly fell forward. In an almost normal voice, he continued. “You should go now. Don’t wanna keep your date waiting.”
Honestly, you should. You should grab the shoes that you’d dropped sometime during that spectacle and walk right past him. Teach him that it’s mean to tease.
“Screw you, Sam,” you snapped, closing the distance between you two and pulling his lips down to yours. He wasted no time in kissing you back. Sam’s hands were all over you, pulling and pushing and tugging and driving you crazy.
You’d dreamt of those hands for years, but actually feeling the rough callouses and nimble muscles was so much better. And those lips… Lips that you’d watched explain a bit of lore thousands of times. Lips that drove you wild when they smirked every time he caught you staring. Lips that were stealing your oxygen away, demanding your attention, locking onto yours.
He hooked his hands under your thighs and easily lifted you up. The world tilted as he spun around until you were pressed against the wall and Sam’s lips latched onto your neck. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noted that you wouldn’t be able to hide those marks in the morning, but in the moment you couldn’t care less. Sam’s hair was tangled in your fingers, your legs were wrapped around his waist, ankles hooked behind his ass, and he was grinding against you, making you forget about everything else.
“Oh, God, Sam.”
Sam pulled away with a dark, devilish grin. “Baby, you like that?” Your low groan when he rolled his hips against yours again was all the answer he needed. “I’m just getting started, Y/N. By the time I’m finished with you tonight, you’ll be feeling me for the rest of the week.”
“Are you just teasing me, or can you back up those words?” You asked in a shaky voice.
He chuckled humorously. “Patience, babe. We’ve got all night.”
Sequel: Now and Later
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speckledspout · 7 years ago
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supernatural tag meme
I was tagged by the amazing @corrupteddean to do this so here we go:
1. what season did you start watching supernatural?
well this is a funny story because i can’t really remember. i do remember when i was younger that supernatural would come on after charmed (which i watched all the time) and i would watch a couple of episodes that way. but then i stopped watching and picked back up somewhere around season seven i think (like season seven was currently airing). i went back and rewatched the previous seasons that i missed to catch up and now here i am.
2. who was the first character you fell in love with?
this is also a funny story because i first fell in love with sam even tho i am totally a dean girl now (that’s a lie, i’m a bribo, who am i even kidding) but there was something about sam, maybe it was that fluffy, long hair because i was going through a phase where i only liked boys with long hair like that and so i fell in love with sam first.
3. who was a character that you hated at first but grew to love?
jo harvelle. i did not like her at all. she was annoying and whiny and i really didn’t like her but upon my spn rewatch i grew to like her, i guess. i mean, she was young and naive but i started to understand her. she was that way because her father had died and then her mother put her on lock down basically and she didn’t have the opportunity to find out for herself what she liked or didn’t like, ya know.
4. which character would you most want to be in a long-term relationship with?
dean winchester. call me a basic bitch or whatever but i love dean and i think he needs someone who will be there for him when he needs them but also give him distance when he needs it. dean honestly is such a pure soul and he needs something good in life.
5. if you could go on just one date with one character, which one would you choose?
sammy babe. again call me a basic bitch but i think that it would be a lot of fun to go on a date with him.
6. what would you do on the date?
i don’t know. maybe go watch a movie, share a popcorn. have a nice dinner. something like that.
7. which character would you most want to be like?
either john winchester or bobby.
8. which character would you most like to see brought back from the dead?
again either bobby or john. i think it would be interesting to see the relationship between both the boys with john, being that they’re so much older. i would love to see sam’s relationship grow with his father. and then with bobby, he was a constant in the boys lives that needs to be back.
9. which character would you most like to punch?
yeah, i’m not gonna answer this one. not at all because my answer probably wouldn’t be well received.
10. who is your absolute favorite character?
umm, sam and dean, duh. but besides from them, probably john. i really wish we could know more about john because there’s so much hate for him and i wish there wasn’t.
11. which “big bad” do you think was the worst?
the worst? as in the worst thought out character or worst as in the best villain? i’m going with the first because honestly the whole amara storyline kinda pissed me off. they had such potential to do some great things with her and then they didn’t and she was just this flat character.
12. which character are you most like?
i don’t know really. i’ve been told tho that i am a lot like dean. i mean, i’ve got a little brother that even tho he drives me crazy, i would do anything for. i am not an overly affectionate person however when you manage to get past these walls that i have, you are there forever. i am funny and i am witty and yeah, i don’t know what else to say.
13. what death hit you the hardest?
bobby’s. most definitely because the boys needed him and then the writers just had to go off and kill him.
14. what season finale hit you the hardest?
oh lord, i don’t know. maybe the end of season one when everyone is so young and happy and then they get in the car crash and then the opening in season two killed me.
15. what are your ten all-time favorite episodes?
1. the pilot 2. faith 3. red meat 4. folsom prison blues 5. regarding dean 6. baby 7. first blood 8. who we are 9. in my time of dying 10. on the head of a pin
16. what’s been your favorite season?
either season one or two because that is classic spn through and through because my boys are so young and happy and everything isn’t fucked up.
17. who is your favorite angel?
either balthazar or gabriel
18. who’s your favorite demon?
uhh... i love crowley but i also love meg
19. who’s your favorite evil character?
let me go with the classic and say yellow eyes however i also loved cain and i wish that we could have more of him.
20. do you have any supernatural ships?
fuck yeah i do: wincest, some dark!wincestiel, dean/benny, demon!dean/abaddon, uhhh... sam/jess and there are others that i can’t think of right now.
21. who’s your favorite supporting actor?
oh lord, i don’t even know
22. what’s your favorite quote from the show?
let me go with the basic “family don’t end in blood.”
23. if you could cast one famous actor in an episode of spn, who would you chose?
this one i don’t know either.
24. if you could write your own episode, what kind of creature would you like to see included?
if i could write an episode it would be based off my fic that i wrote a while ago called “mine carts and raging fires.” it has your classic monster being the wendigo but also the brothers relying on each other and some major hurt!brothers. it would be my favorite episode ever.
25. who’s your favorite girl that dean’s hooked up with?
i don’t know being that dean’s had a ton of one night stands and hasn’t emotionally bonded with anyone but thinking back through the seasons it would have to be cassie because dean trusted her enough to tell her about his life and what he did and it was probably his first heartbreak.
26. who’s your favorite girl that sam’s hooked up with?
i really liked sarah back in season two. i thought that she and sam was adorable with each other.
27. what are some of your favorite convention moments?
anytime when we get a glimpse into their lives or when they hug... or when they get up on stage and sing.
28. if you were going to guest star (or be a recurring guest star) on spn, how would you want your character described?
a hunter (obviously) who is pretty badass, has an awesome aim, funny, witty, caring. someone who can get things done when asked. seems cold at first but when you peel back the layers you see that i’m actually really nice. probably gotta have that tragic backstory. kinda a lone wolf but would stick around with the brothers, help them when need be but not overbearing.
29. what do you hope to see in the next season?
just give me my classic spn with my monsters of the week and classic hunts and old motel rooms and scary episodes. that’s what i want. and for what’s dead to stay dead.
30.-40. if you had to choose…
bobby or john?
i can’t pick. both.
bela or ruby?
bela (i really really liked her)
jess or madison?
jess (because she was sam’s first love)
jo or lisa?
jo (can’t really stand lisa)
charlie or kevin?
fuck, really. i would go with charlie.
balthazar or ash?
probably balthazar. we need ash in heaven controlling things up there.
cas or crowley?
crowley. most definitely.
ben or claire?
i’m gonna go with ben cause i can’t stand claire.
jody or donna?
umm... both. i can’t pick one or the other.
sam or dean?
salmon dean, obviously. (ha, i’m not funny. sam and dean because they are just one soul split in half.)
tagging: @golly-god | @itsnotsammy | @purgatoan | @justanothersaltandburn | @wetsammywinchester | @the-mrs-deanwinchester | @bowlegdean | @hes-my-brother | @ilostmyshoe-79 (and anyone else)
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sherlockreinhold · 7 years ago
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GreySummers Witch Hunter AU
In which Scott is a hunter and Jean is a witch. 
I actually originally wrote this while thinking of James Marsden’s Scott Summers and Sophie Turner’s Jean Grey, so apologies for the apparent age difference.
--
Scott found her huddled outside of the tent, sitting on a rotting log a little ways out toward the rest of the forest. In the distance, near the bright warmth of the center fire, the sounds of celebration and merriment could be heard. Another successful raid, this time with no casualties. The others would most likely be out until daybreak, glasses held as high as their spirits.  
Every step closer to the girl took Scott further away from that inviting familiarity of brotherhood. He wanted to crash his own drink against Hank's, to reminisce on the old days with Charles, to banter with Logan instead of their usual cold belittlement because tonight they were not just fighters: they were victors.  
She was muttering to herself again, back hunched over and turned resolutely towards the encampment. Even from this distance Scott could see the way that her breath frosted through the nighttime chill, little white crystals of ice swirling up towards the night sky before dispersing into nothingness. Scott came to a halt for a moment, still a dozen or so paces away, and sighed. He glanced up at the darkness above. Every now and again he could see the faint glimmer of starlight through the thick canopy of the trees.  
There was a faint crackling sound that originated seemingly from where the girl was sitting. Curiosity having now caught hold of him entirely, Scott walked forward. Out of instinct he kept his footfalls quiet, stepping so lightly that the snow on the ground below refused to crunch under his boots. As he finally drew close enough to peer over the young woman's shoulder, he watched as flickers of flame and sparks of electricity popped into life a few inches from her knees, levitating a good foot and a half or so off the ground as she continued to amuse herself. 
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scott suddenly snapped, his temper having already spiraled out of control before he ever even had a hope of gripping onto it. He grabbed onto her shoulder as he spoke, turning her to face him. Terror mingled with surprise caused the witch to seize up beneath his touch, but when the girl turned and saw who had snuck up behind her Scott could physically feel the tension melt away beneath his fingertips. The witch snapped a couple of words from an unknown language at him in a nasty tone, and Scott had the feeling he was going to be tripping over his own shoelaces for the next day or two. Still, his fury did not subside. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if anyone else had seen you but me? Don't put too much thought into it, I'll spare you the effort: you would already be dead!" 
"If you hadn't snuck up on me-" 
"You're damn lucky it was me and not anyone else from the camp! And I wasn't even 'sneaking', that's just how quiet we are. I've told you that how many times? Jesus, Jean," Scott breathed, finally releasing the witch's shoulder and taking a few steps away to cool himself down. "What if it had been Hank, huh? Or worse yet, Logan. He likes you and all but he doesn't trust you yet, either. He would have torn you to shreds before either of you could even realize what happened. It's all-" 
"Instinct, yes, I know," Jean scowled, her voice mocking as she watched Scott pace back and forth in front of her. She huffed and turned away from him, drawing her knees up beside her on the log and wrapping her arms securely around them.  
Scott rolled his eyes. Jean was going to her herself killed if she kept this up. Each and every member of his team was trained to impulsively attack the moment they were in the presence of magic. Charles was by far the most effectual at restraining his abilities in such situations, as was the result of having spent so much time around Erik and Raven, both powerful witches in their own right. He also had his telepathy to act as a sort of warning as to whether or not there was a witch within close proximity and their intentions, which allowed him to respond accordingly. The others, however, were nowhere near as experienced. Hank struggled with keeping himself human half the time, Logan had tendencies to descend into murderous rampages, Kurt accidentally kidnapped a senator from Montana twice in a week, Bobby once turned Lake Michigan into an iceberg, and Rogue was simply deadly. She was just a baby, hardly even older than Jean, but one of the most powerful and dangerous Hunters Scott had ever encountered.  
The fact was that Jean knew all of this, and yet here she was out in the woods at night by herself casting energy spells. Scott exhaled slowly, walking over to sit beside the young woman. Why did this always have to be a battle between them? He was just trying to keep her safe.  
"We had a deal," he reminded her. "No magic. Remember?" Scott heard the girl scoff in response, curling in tighter on herself. At least she wasn't openly displaying hostility anymore. She didn't make any effort to move away or spit at him in strange tongues the way she had when he had first rescued her. Scott still wasn't sure what had compelled him to embark on this suicidal path. All he knew was that when they had raided that den and Scott found this young witch shivering in a pool of her own blood he hadn't been able to stand by and just let her die. Yes, there were probably countless other ways to have helped Jean aside from lying to his team and saying she was a human survivor from the raid, but it was a little late for that now.  
Jean blended in rather well with the others, though. Her own telepathic abilities made it possible to guard her mind and keep any subconscious thoughts about witchcraft or her origins from pinging on Charles' radar. She and Kurt seemed to get along well, though usually they simply sat together in utter silence. Scott had to wonder if the silence was both physical and mental or not, however, seeing as how he would catch Kurt looking up at him every now and then trying to cover a smile while Jean pretended to be picking at lose threads on her shirt. Rogue... well, Rogue liked everybody who would give her the time of day, but she seemed to find a certain connection with Jean in the tragic "surviving a witch attack" backstory Scott had helped her create. Hank was happy with anyone who would listen to him chatter about science for hours on end, and seeing as Jean didn't talk much he found her to be quite the listener. Bobby and the others didn't interact with her much, tended to keep more to themselves, evidently not sure whether or not the outsider could be trusted. Then there was Logan, the most suspicious out of them all. He was nice to Jean's face, and that was all Scott needed to see in order to know that something was wrong. Logan wasn't nice to anyone outside of Rogue. Even Charles had to put him in his place on an almost daily basis, and one time it had gotten physical when Logan had brought Erik's name into the picture. So for Logan to be all buddy-buddy with Jean meant he wanted to keep an eye on her. 
Despite all of that, most of the time the girl was with Scott. They shared a tent, did patrols together, and ate together. What little talking they did was usually working out the kink of their little plan, such as her cover story or how she could fit in to life at the camp better. Jean was tainted now, she couldn't just go running back to her world. Not only had her own kind left her for dead, but if Jean returned as the sole survivor of a raid as deadly as the one Scott and his team had launched on her old den, she would fall under suspicion of her own people and be dead by the following sunrise. They were in this for the long haul, and Jean finally seemed to be accepting that. The first weeks had been rough, but she was adapting to a life of no magic or rituals now. Really, the only issue they seemed to be having anymore was... 
Scott glanced over the witch's shoulder. "What's the matter?" He asked, noticing the way her hands would ball themselves into tight fists, clenching around nothing before relaxing and spreading out her fingers. They did this again and again, as if Jean were grabbing at something and squeezing the life out of it before releasing it to fall to the floor. It was a long time before Scott heard her speak. 
"I want to kill them," she murmured, so quietly that if the two of them weren't in the middle of the forest during the dead of night the Hunter would have never heard her. "All of them. I want them dead." 
Ah, yes. That was still a problem.  
"Jean...." Scott sighed. 
"I'm not going to, okay?" The witch snarled, turning her head halfway so that she could see him out of the corner of her eye over her shoulder. "I just... want to. I really, really want to," she said. Jean turned toward the faint glow of the camp in the distance, her lip curling back in disgust. "Listen to them, chanting and cheering, celebrating murder like it's a holiday. Like they're not drinking and dancing over blood that's been spilt and lives that have been taken by their own hand." 
"Jean," the Hunter tried again. "You're levitating." 
He watched as the girl looked over and down at the log underneath her, as if she didn't believe Scott. Dark clouds of energy had gathered underneath and were swirling under Jean's body, whipping themselves into a frenzy beneath her weight and causing her to float about six inches or so in the air. She turned around to face Scott when she spoke to him again, immediately backing away into a defensive position. The Hunter watched her with amusement. 
"You're not attacking." 
"Nope," Scott said simply. Jean furrowed her brow at him, and he smirked. Truth was, he had lived with Jean and her little private outbursts of magic long enough to at least restrain himself from attacking her on the spot. "You know, you're actually kind of cute when you get all hot and flustered about not having the answer to everything," he teased. Normally this was when he ended up knocking out cold from a sleeping curse and waking up the next morning naked in the middle of the snow with his arms taped together behind his back. Instead, however, Jean merely rolled her eyes and dropped her guard, evidently not in the mood to do battle. She looked back over toward the camp again, and Scott could see there was a sort of longing in her eyes. Not in the way that she would want to be included or anything, but when that sort of expression was coupled with the lounge clothes she was wearing and the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, it wasn't hard to put two and two together: Jean was tired. Exhausted, probably. She looked like she had just crawled out of bed, despite the fact that she must have been out here for an hour at least.  
"Go to sleep," Scott told her. Jean looked back at him, eyeing him up and down, trying to figure out what his angle was. She was going to be sorely disappointed.  
"I'm not tired," she lied. 
"I didn't ask," was the Hunter's callous reply, softened by the slight curve of his lips. "Come on, what do you think I'm going to do, kill you? It's a little late for that," he reasoned. "Go to sleep, and I'll carry you back inside when the noise settles down. I won't even smack your head off a tree when I carry you, promise." 
He heard the girl mutter something under her breath in an unfamiliar language before wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. She walked back over to the log and laid herself down over the wood, curling herself up under the blanket she brought with her. After a few minutes more, Scott heard her breathing even out. He leaned his head back and looked back up toward the stars. They certainly were bright out here, without all the light pollution from the cities.  
Scott whipped his head down when he heard movement and felt something touch him. His eyes focused on the shape of Jean, having stretched out more comfortably on the log they shared. In her sleep, she had also take it upon herself to seek out his body heat and lay her head down in Scott's lap. He hesitated, unsure of what to do. If he woke her up now, she'd be obstinate and ornery, not to mention most likely homicidal. If she woke up and found herself like this, she'd be suspicious and distrusting, as well as most likely homicidal. Seeing as how it was unlikely Jean was going to be waking up anytime soon, the Hunter decided to take his chances with the latter. He found himself watching her peaceful expression as she rested, and found it curious that she could look so ferocious and off-putting when awake yet so gentle in slumber. He also couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had she simply not been a witch. She was young, very young, which made such thoughts of romantic entanglement entirely wrong. But Scott couldn't help wondering if they would have ever met, possibly become friends and, when she came of age, then maybe something more. Would they enjoy evenings of laughter instead of their current evenings of arguing? Would they talk while they ate rather than sit in stony silence? Would they be close to each other, even call each other friend rather than having the word "enemy" branded on their relationship simply because of their very nature? Would they be happy together? 
Could they still be? 
With Jean and her abilities unconscious, Scott was safe to let his mind wander. He had spoken with Charles countless times and heard the stories of how he once fell in love with a witch, yet never been able to fully understand it. But sitting here now, as the witch in his own arms drifted in the realm of sleep and he held guard over her through the night, Scott was beginning to comprehend Charles in a way he never had before.
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