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narisjournal-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Through the Pain

Dean x Reader (platonic)

Angst

Word Count: 5,231

A/N: This is my late entry for @greenappleeyes 1k follower challenge. My prompts were ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons and ‘Whatever has broken your heart, know that I am here to listen.’

Thank you to Nicole for being so patient with this, and for letting my husband join in and write his own fic too. (His is actually better) You can read this here.

I don’t think this is my best work, and there’s so much more I could explore with Dean and with this song, but it has been really interesting to write. I’ve not really written with prompts before. Please give me some feedback, I want to know what you lot think.

***

The trees blurred in front of you as you ran. You were in so much pain, blood gushing from the wounds you held tight with your hand, but you ran on instinct.

You wouldn’t end up like your brother. You had come too far and been through too much. You could hear the blood pulsing in your ears and the edges of your vision were going dark.

You kept your legs moving, not daring to look back and see if you were still being pursued.

You emerged from the trees to a dirt path, gasping for breath.

A man with a dog turned and gasped at the sight of you.

You staggered to him and gripped his clothes as you slid to your knees.

With your last breath of consciousness you choked out the words, ‘Call him.’

Then the world turned black.

***

The motel room was quiet. Dean sat with his feet up, ankles crossed on the table as he cleaned his gun. He focussed on his steady fingers working the cloth into the grooves of the cool metal. He tried not to think about Lisa and Ben. It was easier said than done. He couldn’t stop wondering if he should have let Cas remove them from his memory too. The thought made his stomach lurch.

He felt his phone buzz against his thigh before his ringtone began to sound, cutting through the heavy silence.

He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Unrecognised.

‘Hello?’ He answered cautiously.

‘Is that Dean?’ The voice on the other end said.

Dean narrowed his eyes.

‘Depends who’s asking.’

'It’s just… I’m… look, there’s a girl. She’s been attacked, she’s covered in blood and she collapsed right in front of me. Your name and number are scrawled across her hand. I figured you’d wanna know.’

Dean hesitated.

'My name and number? Wait a minute, this girl. Who is she?’

'I dunno. Dark hair, maybe in her twenties?’

Dean racked his brains. Didn’t sound like Clair.

'She’s in the ambulance now. They’re taking her to hospital. Look, man. I dunno what’s going on, but I just thought you should know. I’ve called you. I’m done.’

'Wait wait wait,’ dean garbled. 'Which hospital? What attacked her?’

There was a click and three beeps.

Dean ran his hand through his hair.

Why would some random girl have his name and number on her hand?

His phone buzzed and he opened a text message. It contained the name of a hospital about an hour’s drive away.

He shoved it back in his pocket and replaced the loaded chamber of his gun.

'Sammy!’ He called. 'Think I might have a case. You comin’?’

***

The blackness swirled around your mind. It was peaceful and empty. Still, you couldn’t fight the nagging feeling buried somewhere deep beneath the fog. This wasn’t over and you had to fight.

Somewhere far-off, in the distance that existed outside your consciousness, a steady beep pulsed and threaded through your coalescing thoughts.

The scene unfolded in your dreaming mind, clouded by a haze of regret. Was this where it had all gone wrong?

You had spotted him almost instantly across the crowded bar. Head in his hand, slouched over a grimy table on his own and nursing a glass of amber liquid you assumed was whiskey. Empty glasses littered the table.

You sat down heavily across from him.

'Something on your mind?’ You asked.

He took a sharp intake of breath and his shoulders tensed.

'Why don’t you mind your-’

He stopped when he looked up at you. His eyes travelled over you and he frowned.

'You are definitely not old enough to be hanging out in a shit hole like this.’ His speech was a little slurred, but not as much as you would expect considering all the glasses.

'Well, clearly no-one cares enough to throw me out,’ you retorted, looking around at the few scattered drunks and bored-looking bartender.

Dean sighed heavily and turned his attention back to his drink.

'Anyway, I’m not here for the liquor. I’m here for you.’

You fixed your eyes on him, trying to get a read on him.

You had been told he was the best man for the job. You had been told about the Great Dean Winchester who had clawed his way back from the dead and would jump at the chance for a case.

As you eyed him, you wondered if this was the right Dean Winchester.

'Look, sweetheart. Firstly, you can’t be more than, what, seventeen? And secondly, I’m- ’

'Oh for fucks sake, I’m not hitting on you. Why is that always the first thought?’ You rolled your eyes.

He looked back up at you and narrowed his eyes.

'Just cut the crap. I don’t want whatever you’re selling. Just fuck off.’

He drained the rest of his glass and stood up, heading back towards the bar.

This was bullshit. Hero stories were always full of crap. If you hadn’t been so desperate, you would’ve left him to drown his sorrows and moved on.

But you were desperate.

You gave it a few minutes, watching him from where you were. He ordered another drink and checked his phone.

… 'my brother died.’ You said simply, sitting down next to him again.

'Yeah? So did mine. That s'posed to make us besties? I told you, back off alright?’

You blinked at him.

Nobody had told you Dean Winchester was an asshole.

'Look,’ he said, softening ever so slightly. 'I’m sorry for your loss, but I can’t help you.’

His callous disregard got you fired up. 'You don’t know what I want yet,’ you said through gritted teeth.

'Not interested,’ he added, turning away from you and draining his glass.

Your fist clenched against the bar.

'He was killed by some kind of monster. They told me it was a bear but I saw it. He was all I had left. I’ve been looking for you for months.’

The words hung in the air and you thought maybe now he would at least show some humanity.

Dean sighed heavily.

'You wasted your time, princess. If I buy you a drink will you go away?’

You only stared.

'You are Dean Winchester, right? Notorious supernatural hunter?’

'Dunno what you’re talking about, sweetheart. I’m a mechanic. And you’re clearly crazy.’

He caught the bartender’s attention and held his glass up, indicating two fingers.

'Why are you being like this? I was told you would jump at a case.’

'You were told wrong. I’m a family man and I look out for me and mine. That’s it. So unless you got a car you need fixin’, leave me the hell alone.’

The bartender placed two shots of whiskey down between them with a clink.

Dean pulled one towards him and pushed the other across the bar to you.

'Drink and then go. We’re done here.’

You exhaled roughly. 'You know, for a family man you sure are an asshole,’ you said. 'I’m sorry I wasted my fucking time.’ You pushed the whiskey back towards him and walked away.

***

Dean stood at the door of the hospital room leaning against the door jamb.

His throat had tightened up and he found himself frozen.

'Do you recognise her?’ Sam asked behind him.

Dean couldn’t answer. If he did he was afraid Sam would hear the crack in his voice.

Seeing you lying there with wires sticking out of you had caught him off guard.

You hadn’t changed much, except you looked older. Thinner, maybe.

He remembered the first time he had met you.

Fuck, he had been an asshole. Broken, lost in his life and tired of the monotony of how things had panned out; but still an asshole. There was no excuse to have treated you that way.

The beep of the heart rate monitor gave a steady pulse, cutting through the silence.

He had thought about you later that night, when he couldn’t sleep.

To his shame, he thought firstly about the pull of a case.

He loved Lisa, he really did. And he loved Ben like he was his own. He had always dreamed of this apple pie life.

But it had never been an acceptable pay-off for losing Sam.

He had sworn off doing cases, keeping the danger away.

But what put him off most about taking the case was you.

His heart had sunk when he looked up and saw this young girl looking back at him. He knew from the way you approached it would be about a case. You said yourself you weren’t interested in the liquor.

He had thought about himself at that age, already elbows-deep in the blood of the supernatural, raised in tragedy and nurtured by pain with no other future in line for him.

If he knew anything about you in that moment, he knew you could have a better life than he had. There was still a degree of innocence in your eyes; The kind of innocence he saw in Ben’s eyes. The world needed more innocence.

He told himself that’s why he had been so dismissive and played dumb. He told himself he had wanted to put you off the whole hunting thing and deal with your brother’s death in a healthy, normal way.

Not that he knew anything at all about that.

So at first he had thought it was his conscience playing tricks on him when he looked out of the window and saw you stood in his front yard in the dark.

He met your eyes and realised you were not a mirage.

He rolled his eyes and dragged himself up. He glanced up the stairs and listened for any signs of stirring, but there was only quiet.

If you were coming to his house now, he had to deal with this.

He closed the front door carefully, then stormed towards you.

'Not ok. Not at all. I told you, back the hell off.’

'You’re a hunter,’ you said, standing firm. Your arms were folded across your chest. 'You’re lying to yourself.’

'Don’t-’ he started, but you cut in.

'Do you really think that hiding behind this family man bullshit is gonna keep the monsters at bay? Does the supernatural world stop because you decided it should?’

He now stood about a foot away from you, trying to intimidate you into leaving.

'Don’t you dare tell me what you think I should be. You don’t know me. You’re trespassing. Get off my yard.’

'Why won’t you help me? Is there not even a shred of compassion left in that stone cold heart? I thought you might understand because you lost your brother too.’

'Do not talk about my brother.’

'Please,’ you said, not hiding the desperation in your voice. 'I know I can’t bring him back. All I’m asking for is your help. Anything.’

You unfolded your arms and took hold of his arm. He towered over you.

He regarded you for a moment, then rubbed his hand over his face. He stepped back and half turned, glancing back at the house warily.

He turned back to you.

'Look, kid. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Choose a better life than I had and stay away from all this crap. Like you said, it won’t bring him back.’

'You’re full of shit, Dean,’ you spat at him. He shook you off his arm.

'You’re making this really fucking difficult,’ he answered through gritted teeth. 'How the hell did you find me, anyway?’

You shrugged. ‘And yeah I’m making it difficult because I want you to snap the fuck out of this fairytale idea that nothing bad happens anymore. People need you, Dean. I need you.’

'Kid, I don’t even know you. But you can be more than this. Your brother died and it sucks. But you have a choice to live out your life. When I was your age… I never had a choice.’

'And yet here you are, with a wife and kid regardless.’

'Ok, she’s not my wife. And he’s not my kid. And so long as my brother is burning in Hell, I’ll never be out. Not really.’

As if realising what he had just said, he glanced back at the house again.

He lowered his voice. 'I love her, and I love him like he was my own, but we’re just making the best out of this. But you? You could have it all. You have a choice.’

'Even so, I still choose to hunt down this bastard. And it’s my choice to make. This is my brother! He is the fucking world to me, how can you not understand that?’

You were shouting again.

'Keep your damn voice down,’ Dean snapped at you. 'This is a nice neighbourhood and people are sleeping.’

'Well while people are sleeping peacefully, monsters roam the night. And here you are, telling me to let it go. You’re full of shit,’ you repeated.

'Maybe I am,’ he said. 'But it ain’t got shit to do with you. For the last time, I am not gonna help you. You need to leave.’

When you didn’t move, he wrapped his large hand around your wrist and yanked you. You stumbled and moved with him, your legs scrambling to carry you as he dragged you away from his house.

'Dean,’ you pleaded.

He let you go and pointed out into the street.

'Go. Before I go get my gun.’

You cradled your wrist where he had grabbed you and looked up at him with disbelief.

'You really have snapped, haven’t you. Your brother’s death really messed you up didn’t it?’

'Go!’ He shouted.

'You’re broken.’

'If I ever see you again you’ll be fucking sorry.’

He had turned and stormed back to the house. And you had left.

And he had never seen you again.

Until now.

***

He sat down gingerly by the bed. He regarded you for a long moment.

'Dean?’ Sam said behind him.

'Yeah. Yeah I recognise her,’ Dean answered finally, defeat shaking his voice.

He ran his hand over his face, perhaps a subconscious effort to replace the mask that had shifted temporarily.

Sam saw straight through it.

His voice softened. 'Who is she Dean?’

He inhaled deeply, watching your chest rise and fall.

'She’s someone I should have helped a long time ago. But I didn’t. And now…’ he indicated the hospital bed and your current predicament.

Sam nodded. But he didn’t dwell.

'So do we know what we’re dealing with?’

Dean inhaled, gathering himself to focus.

‘Werewolf.’ His voice was gruff and short. ‘Pretty sure. Which makes this whole thing worse.’

Sam cocked his head in question.

‘A fucking werewolf, Sammy. I coulda given her silver bullets. That’s all she needed. Silver fucking bullets.’

Sam ran his hand through his hair. ‘Ok. Well, we’re here now. What do we know about this werewolf? Is there a pack? I didn’t have time to research thoroughly, but all I found was a report of one body showing up. Animal attack they say, but when is an animal attack ever an animal attack?’

Dean huffed a humourless laugh.

‘Did she say anything back when… when you knew her? Do we know who this thing is?’

Dean shook his head. 'Not unless she wakes up.’

Sam huffed out a sigh. He closed the door and came to the other side of the bed.

‘She got away, so she knew something about what she was dealing with,’ he said.

Dean folded back the cover carefully, examining the dressing on your wound. He noticed several other claw marks on your arms.

‘This isn’t her home town. She tracked it here.’

‘Ok. So this is likely not a newborn then?’ Sam mused.

‘Exactly. And he’s being careful, which means he’s self-aware. But not above killing folk.’

‘Which means-’

‘Which means silver bullets,’ Dean cut in. ‘Let the bullets fly.’

He narrowed his eyes, focussing on the one thing he knew how to do; killing a monster.

Sam cleared his throat. ‘Dean, I mean… do you wanna sit this one out? I’m sure I could-’

‘What are you nuts? I wanna gank this thing. Fuck, I owe her that much.’

‘Ok, but I mean… you’re dealing with a lot right now. It would be perfectly fine if you-’

‘No, Sam. Fuck, do you even know me at all? My whole life, my drive – it came from pain. Pain is what keeps me focussed and it’s what keeps me fighting, so let those fucking silver bullets rain.’

Before Sam could respond, his phone began to ring. He checked it.

‘Sherriff,’ he said simply and left the room as he answered the call.

Dean felt his demeanour crumble now that Sam wasn’t there. He sank into the seat by your bed, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was slow compared to the pounding in his own chest.

He made himself look up at you again, regarding your peaceful face as though he was staring down his own mistakes.

Your life could have been better, he realised, if he had just helped you. Killed the damn werewolf and then you could have moved on. Instead you had tracked this werewolf unequipped for God knows how many years, probably from town to town. Perhaps this was the first time you had confronted it, he thought.

And you had been so desperate, you turned back to him – the pathetic, angry drunk who had dragged you off his yard all those years ago.

And where had it got him? He was left here yet again in the only life h knew, the pain of what he had sacrificed making him believe in some greater purpose he could never quite pin down. But it was where he belonged. He should have known that.

The heart monitor started screaming and you gasped, making Dean jump up and move closer to your side.

You blinked, looking around the room to try and make sense of where you were. When the first face you saw was his, you filled with relief. His green eyes watched you intently.

‘Hey, hey it’s ok. I’m here. You’re ok,’ he said. He took your hand as you reached out for him.

Your eyes took in the freckles across his nose and the dark shadows under his eyes. If it was possible, he looked even more broken than before. And yet somehow more focussed.

You never thought you would see that face again, except when it plagued your dreams; the man who had left you alone to fend for yourself in a world you had no idea how to navigate.

You were mad at him. His abandonment and dismissal had shaped much of how determined you were. That and the loss of your brother were your drive.

But right now, his face was the only one you wanted to see. If he was as good as the stories said, this Werewolf should be nothing for him to kill. The end was finally in sight. There was light at the end of a long, traumatic tunnel.

‘Dean,’ you choked out. ‘You came.’

‘Yeah. It took me long enough.’ He still held your hand in his. His grip was soft and much gentler than your last encounter with him.

You sighed and smiled, the relief flooding you once again.

‘We’re gonna get this son of a bitch, ok?’ he said, his voice low and gravelly.

The door pushed open and you both looked up.

‘So I think I might have an idea where…’ Sam started as he walked in, then stopped when he saw you were awake. ‘She’s awake. You’re awake. Hi, I’m Sam,’ he added.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach and you weren’t sure what emotion it conveyed. You looked to Dean.

‘Sam?’

‘Yeah. He’s uh… he’s back, I guess. Long, weird story.’

You couldn’t talk right away while you processed how that was even possible. So Sam was back from the dead? And Dean was sat here now, after all these years, ready to help because his family was complete again?

You clenched your jaw. Jealousy. That was what you were feeling. You tried to shake it off. This was a good thing. You should be happy for him.

‘You must be very happy,’ you said, trying not to let your voice shake.

Dean let go of your hand and scoffed. ‘Happy? With his whining and farting? Sick of him already.’

‘Thanks, Dean,’ Sam said bitterly.

But you noticed the glimmer of sadness that remained in Dean’s eyes even as he joked.

‘I think I may know where this werewolf is hiding out,’ Sam said, sweeping the conversation on.

Your eyes lingered on Dean a little longer. He looked at the floor.

Maybe he was someone who was destined to be unhappy. He had his brother back. The person he loved most in the world had died and left him heartbroken, now he was here as you lived and breathed. What else could… and then it struck you.

The wife and kid.

You realised nobody was talking and both brothers were looking at you.

You cleared your throat. ‘What? Sorry. I’m still kind of waking up.’

Sam ran his hand through his hair. ‘Sorry. How are you feeling?’

‘Confused. Exhausted. How did you… but you died?’

‘Oh right. That.’ Sam looked to Dean. Dean shrugged. ‘Friends in high places, I guess,’ Sam said, looking at the floor so his hair fell over his face. There was a little shame in those eyes, you thought.

‘You gonna explain?’

Sam hesitated, but Dean jumped in.

‘Look, we’re buddies with an angel. Yeah it’s weird. Welcome to huntin’, sweetheart.’

He ran his hand through his hair attempting to act nonchalant, but you couldn’t ignore the weird look the brothers exchanged. Because they knew what you were thinking.

‘What else can you tell us about this werewolf?’ Sam said, before you could dwell any further on his return from the dead.

You sighed. You were wasting time already, so you pushed the rest aside for now.

As you filled them in on the last few years of experience, they seemed to absorb it all as though it was commonplace. The way they discussed the details and formed a plan in less than twenty minutes showed you just how good they were as a team; how close they were and in tune with each other, even if they did bicker over some of the finer details.

And you slowly began to understand the level of pain that Dean had to have been in when you had first met him.

But even now, there seemed to be trouble in paradise.

‘Dean, are you sure? What we talked about before – I can do this if you wanna stay here with her. You’ve been through-’

‘Dammit Sam!’ Dean snapped. The anger that erupted had clearly been building over some time. ‘I told you, I’m gonna kill this fucker. Stop tryna over complicate this.’

Sam threw his arms up. ‘I’m just tryna help,’ he said and stormed out.

‘I’m not sitting this out,’ you said. ‘I’ve worked too hard-’

‘What did you say?’ Dean cut in. ‘You think you’re gonna come along on a hunt with your guts sliced open?’ He shook his head. ‘You’re staying right here. Let us handle this.’

‘Dean, I-’

‘No. I let you down once before. I’m not gonna let you throw your life away again. It ain’t happenin’. This is my fault. I’ll take care of it.’

He was doing it again. He was trying to tell you what was best for you even after having left you out in the cold with nothing but your pain to believe in. For so many years he had been absent. He had been the echo of the hope you once had at freedom.

He had been the almost-father-figure who failed you.

‘You’re damn right, it’s your fault! Why the fuck wouldn’t you just help me? I was alone. I had NOTHING. I had no-one. But you had your perfect little family and I was such an inconvenience.’

‘Don’t talk about them,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t fucking talk about them, not now.’

You looked at him mouth agape.

‘Are we really doing this again? Don’t you ever fucking learn? There is more to the world than just you and your family.’

Green eyes shot daggers through you. ‘That’s rich coming from you.’ He paused, shaking his head. ‘I’m done. You’re staying here, end of discussion.’

He began to walk to the door.

‘Dean. You can’t just walk away every time a situation gets tough. You can’t just up and leave and never deal with it.’

He turned back to you. ‘And what the fuck do you know? Sometimes walking away is the best thing for everybody! Sometimes the only way to keep people safe is to walk away!’ he shouted.

Silence hung in the air between you. You realised you had hit a nerve. This had got out of hand.

You tried to soften your voice. ‘Dean, something happened, I can tell.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever has broken your heart, know that I’m here to listen.’

He scoffed. ‘Broken my… broken my heart?’ he said incredulously, his voice raising. ‘We’re hunters. We don’t get time for a broken heart. Yeah sure, I’m broken. Maybe I always have been. I was broken from a young age. Bad stuff happens. You lose people. But the bad stuff keeps comin’, so you gotta keep fighting. That’s all I know.’

‘Except when you have a wife and kid,’ you said and instantly regretted it. He slammed his fist into the wall behind him. You thought he might yell at you again but instead he just looked at you, emerald eyes so full of pain it hurt you to look at. His lip trembled ever so slightly.

After a long moment, he ran his hand over his face and sat down. ‘They’re gone.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

He shook his head. ‘I mean they’re alive. Just better off thinking they never met me.’

‘You left?’

He shook his head again. ‘They were kidnapped by demons. We got them out, but I realised they would never be safe while they were with me. Their memories were wiped. You don’t get out of this life. You don’t get to throw in the towel and settle down. You were right and I should have… I should have fucking listened.’

You shuffled closer to him, wincing at the pain in your gut but pushing through it. You rested your hand on his shoulder.

You tried to think of something comforting to say, but couldn’t.

‘You should have,’ you said instead.

He looked up at you, disbelief in his eyes. But then he smiled and shook his head.

‘Dammit,’ he said softly. He ran his hand through his hair.

‘Look,’ he said after a long silence. ‘I can’t bring your brother back. I can’t bring back all those years I could have saved you from. What I can do is kill this motherfucker. Will you let me do that for you?’

You sighed. ‘What about the angel?’

‘What?’

‘You say you can’t bring him back. What about the angel? He brought Sam back, right?’

‘Yeah, but it was messy. Really fucking messy and Sam might never recover from what he went through, not really.’

‘Ok, but my brother didn’t die dragging Lucifer back to Hell.’

Dean shook his head. ‘It’s been years. Maybe it’s time to accept it and move on.’

‘Oh fuck off. Did you move on? How did that fucking go? Oh yeah, that’s right. You got your brother back from the dead. So don’t fucking lecture me about moving on,’ you snapped.

Dean had no answer for you.

Right on cue, Sam re-entered the room with a coffee in his hand.

‘Dean, we need to go. The window is closing and soon it will be too late to get him. This guy likes to move towns, like she said.’ He nodded to you.

Dean looked from Sam back to you and held your eyes in his for a long moment.

He blinked, then stood up.

‘Ok Sammy, but just one last thing before we go.’

He glanced back to you, the look in his eyes saying this was a bad idea.

‘Castiel,’ he said. Your heart pounded. Was he really calling the angel? ‘Cas, I need a favour.’

He looked around the room expectantly, avoiding Sam’s confused gaze.

‘Dammit, Cas! Get your feathery ass down here. You sure as hell owe me one, and a big one-’

There was a flap of wings and a whoosh of air and a dark-haired man in a trenchcoat appeared the other side of your bed.

He fixed his blue eyes on Dean.

‘What’s this about Dean?’ He looked around, noticing you were in a hospital. ‘Does someone need healing?’ His eyes settled on you.

Without prompting, he moved to the side of your bed. Wordlessly, he touched two fingers to your forehead and you instantly felt a surge of power tingle through your body. The wound in your gut burned and then disappeared altogether.

You stared up at him. His face was set and he looked to Dean.

‘Is that all? I’m actually busy, Dean.’

Dean nodded once.

‘Thanks, Cas.’

The angel disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Panic began to pound in your chest.

‘No, come back!’ You turned to Dean, grabbing hold of his arm. ‘Bring him back!’ you shouted.

Dean tightened his fingers around your wrist, squeezing reassurance.

‘That was never gonna happen, and you knew that. You’ve always known that. You need to be ok with it.’

‘No!’ you shouted, but your voice got trapped in your throat as the realisation flooded through you. ‘No,’ you choked out again as your body convulsed with sobs.

Dean pulled you against his chest and held you more tightly than was comfortable, but it felt safe as you let yourself fall apart in his arms.

‘He’s better off up there than down here, trust me,’ he said softly.

He held you for a long time in silence.

Eventually, he let go and pulled back.

Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Sam nodded understanding.

Dean looked to you.

‘You need to get ready sweetheart. We’ll give you some time. Get your clothes on.’

‘What?’ You puzzled.

‘You’re all healed up now.’

He paused, looking around the room. His eyes settled on your jeans on the side. He shrugged off his checked overshirt and handed it to you.

‘Here, you can wear this. I guess your t-shirt had a big bloody rip in it.’

‘But you said…’ you started, tears filling your eyes.

‘You need closure. I get it. So you’re gonna come with us, and you’re gonna shoot this bastard in the face. And then you’re gonna move on with your life and be happy.’ He fixed his eyes on yours. ‘You’re the face of the future.’

You looked down at the shirt in your hands, then back up at the two brothers.

‘Come on,’ Dean continued. ‘We’re going hunting.’

***

Tags:

@quixoticcat @afanofmanystuffs @trashforwinchesters @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @ironiccasifer

@greenappleeyes

#nicole's mix and match challenge #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic

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uselessace · 7 years ago

Text

The Reason

Pairing: CastielxReader

Word Count: 1421

Warnings: Castiel is an asshole and Canon violence

A/n: this is my (extremely) late entry @greenappleeyes mix and match challenge. (sorry!)

Prompt: The reason by Hoobstabank and “ for some reason im attracted to you”

“For some reason I’m attracted to you.” a bloodied Castiel gasped out as he staggered towards you.

He and the boys had left you chained in the basement of the bunker. They claimed it was because you had been friendly with whomever they were hunting. The only people you could even think of would be Crowley and Lucifer, who to your knowledge, were both allies.

“What happened Darling?” You tilted your head to the side, desperately yearning to reach out to the injured angle. Your arms twitched uselessly against your bonds.

“The person we were hunting turned me human.” He stumbled a step further and fell on his ass.

You looked down at his perpetually confused puppy eyes, near begging him to let you go. You strained your muscles trying to break the reinforced rope Dean had used to tie you down. Honestly tying you to a chair as if you were a prisoner was overkill, but apparently it was Cass’ idea.

“Cass, Darling, Let me out I’ll help you.”

He shook his head slowly, indicating no, as he sat in an ever expanding pool of blood.

“I’m not a per-” he stopped and started coughing, those deep chest rattling ones. Blood stained saliva dribbled from his lips as he smiled at you. Your eyes teared up at seeing him like this.

“I’m not a perfect person Y/N. There's a lot of things I wished I didn’t do, but I’m still learning..” He trailed off as his eyes slowly closed and opened.

“CASS!?” you nearly screeched beginning to desperately try to escape.

The ropes scraping against your skin, blood slowly soaking into it. The chair was wobbling dangerously. Nearly tipping over several times.

“Cass, love? Please answer me, I’ll make your favorite dish again I don’t care if I have to go to that expensive store!” Tears were streaming down your face.

His smiling face kept appearing in your mind's eye. His face so full of life and wonder. The chair tipped over and you landed on your nose effectively breaking it.

You ignored the slowly seeping blood, in favor of wiggling the chair closer to him. The memory of him trying to guess your favorite color when he was last human popped into your mind. He hadn’t stayed incontact with people that time, but he always made sure to stop and see you.

He had looked so happy as he shouted out blue that you smiled and asked how he knew. You hadn't seen him smile that brightly many times, and ever since you saw blue in everything. You managed to tip the chair onto its side, you winced as you felt your arm crack as the chair harshly fell onto it.

“Cass come on Love, Open those eyes.” His chest didn't move and his eyes stayed close.

Your face was covered in blood and tears, his body unmoving and bloody.

“Cass?” You whimpered out, frozen in place.

You lost track of how long you stared at him, letting the tears and blood soak your face as you whimpered out his name and your heart shattered. Suddenly you heard footsteps, normally you’d be able to place them but you mind was in shambles.

“So that's where he went to?” Dean muttered

“Guess so, time to burn him?” Sam said in response.

The cold tone they held was enough to shock you into moving again.

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM DAMMIT?!” You tried to look threatening but the snot and tears probably undermined that.

They gave you a dismissive look before grabbing Cass and carrying him off.

“WHO THE HELL WERE YOU HUNTING! COME BACK HERE YOU BASTARDS AND LET ME GO.”

Gone was the shock you had felt, the sadness lingered, but at the moment you wanted to find who had killed the love of your life. You wanted to shred them into ribbons. Then you wanted to go after the Winchesters, who so coldly carried him away and let him get hurt.

Your shoulders shook in suppressed rage, your face contorting into a snarl.

“Don’t worry love, I'll find whoever did this to you.” You avowed

For now you were stuck, hopefully they would come and let you go soon. Hearing footsteps you grew hopeful that they'd do just that.

Instead when you looked up at who had entered Cass stood there. Surely he wasn't really there? You had just seen him die, so who the hell was impersonating him?

“I must say I didn't expect you to take my ‘death’ so hard.” The imposter Cass said.

“You can't be the real Castiel, he would never fake his death like that.” You snarled out, fingers slipping against the rope uselessly trying to break it surreptitiously.

He blinked as if surprised. His face a perfect mirror of Cass’ confused face.

“I can assure you I am Castiel, do I need Dean and Sam to confirm?”

“Yes, plus prove you're not a shapeshifter.” Whether or not he got them it would buy you at least a couple seconds. He walked out to get them and you managed to find a loose nail.

You would've preferred something sharper but you'd work with this.

He walked back in with the boys in tow.

“Am I the real Castiel?”

“Of course man, what you think we’d really have no reaction to your death?” Dean joked

“Yup, now can I go back to the research?” Sam said distractedly.

He was waved off as Dean looked at you as if you'd lost it.

In a way you had, your trust in them was gone, the nail was near useless, and you had no clue if ‘Cass’ was really Cass.

“Let me out of the ropes, and prove your not a shifter.”

Dean pulled out a knife and causally approached you.

“Toss it here.” You snarled out.

He raised his hands in surrender and slid it towards you, eyes reflecting a bit of hurt.

You managed to grab the knife and quickly cut your bonds. One arm was most definitely broken and your nose was still lazily bleeding.

“Shifter test. Now.” The demand was quickly followed.

“Now do you believe I am Castiel?” He irritably muttered. Dean grunting in agreement before taking his leave. Casting a glance back at his knife in your hand.

“No, I don't believe you're my Cass. Because whatever the fuck that was that just happened was way out of line.” Your hand shook, you believed him but you really didn't want to.

“How was it out of line? I wanted to make sure you cared about me.”

Your mind flashed back to the arguments you had. They always revolved around things that were impossible for you to do. Most of those arguments were possibly because he just didn’t understand the limitations you had, or at least you thought so. Had those arguments just been ‘test’ of his?

“I THOUGHT YOU DIED! And if, and it's a big if, you are my Castiel you should know why that was wrong.”

His head tilted to the side and you felt your heart flutter at the familiar action. Honestly if this was the real Castiel you’d never forgive him.

“I can assure you I am the Castiel you are dating, i just see no problem with this test.”

Your eyes teared up again, in your heart you knew that this was Cass.

“It’s so wrong Cass, I can’t believe you’d violate my trust like that! Did you even care how that would make me feel?” You wanted to yell that, but truthfully it was more like a harsh whisper.

“I don’t see why it matters, I wouldn't act like that if you died. I don’t see how this was supposed to be any different.”

That hurt, the time you’d been Crowley's personal torture pet hadn’t even hurt as much as those words. Hell even the cage wouldn't be as soul crushing as hearing that.

“Do you even care about my feelings or hell do you care about me?”

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

“Honestly Y/N I’m an angel. We don’t feel human emotions, if i was human I would say I was attracted to you. I even believe Dean would say that those feelings would mean I wanted to do a bit of the old in and out? At least thats what he told me…” He trailed off

You dropped the knife shocked. Then you stormed past him without a word.

Tag List: @trollhunter94 @wayward-mirage @kdfrqqg @greenappleeyes @chaosinacoffeecup

#nicole's mix and match challenge #castiel x reader #castielxreader #uselessace writes

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greenappleeyes · 8 years ago

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1,000 followers! Oh my god, I can’t believe it! I am so thankful for every single one of you that follow my blog and read my little stories. Y'all are so amazing and I love all of you. 😘

Now that the chick flick moment is over, let’s get down to business. To celebrate this unbelievable milestone, I am hosting a writing challenge! It is gonna be a mix and match challenge. Choose a song and a quote, send me an ask to reserve them, then weave a wonderful tale. Details below the cut.

You may choose any Supernatural character or actor and pair them with whomever you’d like; reader inserts, ships, and OCs are all accepted.

Every genre is allowed. AU, smut, angst, fluff, RPF, platonic, etc. (No underage in smut, please. This is really my only hard “rule.”) Please make sure to include all warnings at the beginning of your submission.

Please tag all posts #Nicole’s mix and match challenge and tag me @greenappleeyes If I don’t “like” it, send me a DM because I may not have gotten the notification.

The soft due date for all submissions is August 31st. As always, life is more important so no worries if you’re going to need more time. Just let me know if you need an extension so I can keep track.

Songs (Please choose one and a backup)

1. Paralyzed- Finger Eleven 2. Closer- The Chainsmokers @sweethomelebanon 3. Over and Over- Three Days Grace @casbabydontgoineedyou 4. Religion- Bif Naked 5. Endlessly- The Cab 6. Battlefield- Jordin Sparks 7. Blue Jeans- Lana Del Ray 8. Believer- Imagine Dragons @narisjournal-blog 9. It’s not You- Halestorm 10. Right Here- Staind 11. Easier to Run-Linkin Park 12. Funeral of a Good Girl- Bif Naked 13. Hero- Skillet @teamsasstiel 14. Savior- Rise Against @waywardmoeyy 15. Halo- Oleander 16. Rest of my Life- Less Than Jake 17. Breaking the Habit- Linkin Park 18. There For You- Flyleaf @hunters-hiraeth 19. The Reason- Hoobastank @uselessace 20. Better Place- Saint Asonia 21. Toothbrush- DNCE 22. No One’s Gonna Love You- Band of Horses @stori-teller 23. Hopeless Case- Less Than Jake 24. Who Wants to Live Forever- Queen 25. Take me to Church- Hozier @afanofmanystuffs 26. The Night We Met- Lord Huron 27. The Long and Winding Road-The Beatles 28. Songbird-Fleetwood Mac 29. When We Were Young- Adele 30. The Ghost of You- My Chemical Romance 31. I Wanna Know What Love Is- Foreigner 32. Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’-Journey 33. Love on the Brain- Rihanna 34. Say You Love Me- Jessie Ware 35. Closer- Nine Inch Nails @thran-duils 36. Alive- Pearl Jam 37. Somebody Else- The 1975 @cass-trash 38. Come As You Are by Nirvana 39. Better Man- Pearl Jam 40. Best of You- Foo Fighters @ourloveisforthelovely

Quotes (Please choose one and a backup)

1. “I love you.” @afanofmanystuffs 2. “I’m pregnant.” 3. “Just breathe.” @teamsasstiel 4. “Don’t you want me?” 5. “We really shouldn’t.” @waywardmoeyy 6. “Are you jealous?” 7. “They already know.” 8. “How could you do this to me?” 9. “You fucked up, big time.” 10. “What if someone sees?” 11. “Please don’t leave me.” @ourloveisforthelovely 12. “Is it working?” 13. “I guess we’ll have just have to share the bed then.” 14. “Are you gonna make me? 15. “Well, that escalated quickly.” 16. “I could run a marathon. Right now. I’ll do it.” 17. “I peak at 2am you should know this.” 18. “You want me to lick your face?” 19. “What if someone sees?” 20. “You embarrassed me this evening.” 21. “Am I under arrest, or not?” 22. “Well fuck me sideways and call me Sally.” 23. “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is NO!” 24. “I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I am going to marry her.” 25. “Does he know about the baby?” 26. “Well, what happened? I want all the details!” 27. “Whatever has broken your heart, know that I am here to listen.” @narisjournal-blog 28. “If you want to know how deeply I love you, then simply look to the sky and see the stars.” @sweethomelebanon 29. “Could you be happy here with me?” @hunters-hiraeth 30. “For some reason, I’m attracted to you.” @uselessace 31. “You are the most irritating person I know; AND IT’S NOT A GOOD THING!” 32. “I don’t often get to talk to someone like you.” 33. “Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?” 34. “If we both stick to the story, then they can’t prove anything.” 35. Don’t be scared. I just need you to come with me for a minute.” @cass-trash 36. “Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress.” @thran-duils 37. “I just want a nice, easy life. What is so wrong with that?” @casbabydontgoineedyou 38. You did a bad thing for a good reason.” @stori-teller 39. “Sorry. It’s just that I get so nervous when someone else is driving.” 40. “I know you are there. You cannot hide from me.”

Please participate if you can and if not, please signal boost!

Tagging some writers that might be interested. @splendidcas @willowing-love @waywardmoeyy @webcricket @cass-trash @casbabydontgoineedyou @ourloveisforthelovely @afanofmanystuffs @thran-duils @narisjournal-blog

#Nicole's mix and match challenge #1k writers challenge #thank you so much!!

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ourloveisforthelovely · 8 years ago

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Mistakes

A/n: No warnings. This is for @greenappleeyes writing challenge! I’m super proud of her for getting 1,000+ followers :)

Words: 1, 436

Summary: Gabriel has made more mistakes than he likes to admit. Being a man whore and cheating on the love of his life has to be the dumbest.

Song: Best of You by the Foo Fighters

________

I've got another confession to make I'm your fool Everyone's got their chains to break Holdin' you

“Please don't leave me.”

Gabriel's pleas were falling on dear ears. Y/n had enough! She never expected their once promising relationship to go this way. But this is what happened when ones lover couldn't keep their dick in their pants....things fell apart.

Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

No more would Y/n let herself be emotionally abused like this. Maybe abuse was being dramatic but to her it felt like abuse. When the man you loved came home every day saying how much he loved you only to go out that night and bang his ex then LIE to you about it...that felt like abuse. Gabriel never put an unloving hand on her or called her a foul name. He always said he would never stoop to that level and he was true to his word. Y/n had to give him that. He was a good man in that sense but when it came to being truthful he sucked!

Are you gone and onto someone new? I needed somewhere to hang my head Without your noose You gave me something that I didn't have But had no use I was too weak to give in Too strong to lose My heart is under arrest again But I break loose My head is giving me life or death But I can't choose I swear I'll never give in I refuse

“I can't stay.”

Y/n replied, her voice felt almost foreign to her too. Gabriel's amber eyes looked close to tears as he darted across the kitchen island attempting to wrap his arm's around Y/n's shoulders. If he could just get her settled in his arms maybe she would forgive him. If he could just give her one kiss she may see his passion that he still felt for her.

“Y/n please don't throw us away. I'll stop seeing the whores. I'll never talk to Kali again.”

Y/n shook her head pushing Gabriel away. She didn't want to touch him. She couldn't touch him.

“I can't believe you.”

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel You trust, you must Confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair beginning to pace. He turned back looking at Y/n before looking around their apartment. He hated the apartment since the moment they moved in. It was too little, too dingy, and on a sucky ass side of town. Gabriel had only agreed to move here because Y/n said it was to help her brother's with a case but they never left.

“What if I show you that I can be good? What if I prove to you how much I love you? You know I can.”

Y/n shook her head. Her hair pooled around her shoulders as she took off the locket Gabriel had given her.

“You can't prove nothing to me. I won't believe you again. I have given you so many chances to straighten up. I think we are on chance 1,000 and nothing. Gabriel, I risk my life everyday with my brother's to help keep this world safe. That is enough on me without you being a slut.”

Gabriel looked offended now.

“I'm no slut!”

Y/n rolled her eyes,

“Lets think a minute....Kali, Molly, Suzy, Johanna, and that chick with the one eyebrow. Really Gabe the chick with the one eyebrow?!! You couldn't just go beat off or something until I got home? You were that desperate to get your dick sucked. But no you are no slut.”

Gabriel groaned.

“Where are you going to go?”

Y/n shrugged.

“What the fuck does it matter? See you aren't even denying anything. You aren't getting the best of me again. I should have never turned Cas down. That's right Gabriel. Cas wants me and you know what I think I am ready to say yes. I'm ready to be happy again.”

The look on Gabriel's face alone could have started the apocalypse.

“You're dating my brother and you are still with me?”

Y/n put her hands on her hips.

“This feeling sucks doesn't it? It hurts when the person that you love has moved on. I am not dating Cas yet. I don't even know if he is still interested but I want to know what its like to be cherished.”

Gabriel started to growl.

“I DO CHERISH YOU!'

Y/n turned to start packing her bags again.

Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel The life, the love You die to heal The hope that starts The broken hearts You trust, you must Confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Gabriel stood motionless for a few moments trying to get himself in check. When he calmed down enough Gabriel walked to Y/n wrapping his arms around her waist. He snuggled his face into her hair breathing in her sweet scent. Before this would always make her giggle. She froze in his arms like he had morphed her to Antarctica.

“Come on sugar. Sleep with me one more time. I can rekindle our love. I can make you feel good. You know how good I am.”

Y/n wanted to sob, scream, or push Gabriel out the door.

“No! I said no and I mean no! You should have cherished our relationship when you had the chance. Gabriel we will just go back to the way we were soon enough. We aren't meant to be together. I am done trying. I am done letting you hurt me. My brother's are on their way. It would be best if you wasn't here. Dean isn't very thrilled with you.”

Gabriel's lips twitched at the mention of Dean's name. From the time that he and Y/n had began dating, Gabriel had struggled to get along with the eldest Winchester. Dean always said Gabriel wasn't good enough for Y/n and it appeared that he was right.

“I'm no leaving my own house.”

Gabriel said coldly. Y/n scoffed as she turned continuing to place things into boxes.

“Both of our names are on the lease big boy. Gabriel all I have to say to you is I hope you are happy. I also hope you find someone that makes you happy and completes you. I hope when you find this person that you are faithful to her.”

“HER IS YOU!”

Gabriel squealed.

“You're my person! You're the person I want! Come one sugar snap, lets go do something crazy to prove how much we love each other...wanna get married?”

Y/n started laughing hard at that. She had to sit down from fits of giggles. Gabriel blinked a few times. He never expected his proposal to be laughed at.

“I thought you were crazy at first Gabriel. Now I know you are insane! I would marry Luci before I would you!”

Before Gabriel could argue in return the front door opened.

“Y/n! Sam and I are here!”

Gabriel growled walking into the large foyer. Dean frowned seeing Gabriel.

“Move you little prick! You're lucky I don't shove an archangel blade down your worthless throat for what you did to Y/n! That's my sister and she's fine as hell! You are some son of bi-”

Dean's sentence was cut off when Sam pushed his older brother forward.

“Stop Dean! He isn't worth it!”

Sam shot Gabriel a cold look as he started to help his sister pick up boxes. Gabriel didn't move for the remainder of the time as he watched with heart broken eyes as his loves things were taken away.

When it was time to go Y/n turned and looked at Gabriel who looked close to tears now. She knew that he was thinking this was some act to put the fear of god into him. Clearly he realized now that this was no joke.

“Sugar....”

Y/n shook her head.

“Good bye Gabriel.”

I've got another confession my friend I'm no fool I'm getting tired of starting again Somewhere new Were you born to resist or be abused? I swear I'll never give in I refuse ____________

@greenappleeyes

@jannalionheart

@tas898

@1-more-internet-kid

#Nicole's mix and match challenge #gabriel #GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL #Gabriel the Trickster #supernatural #SPN #spn fics #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #CAS #castiel #gabriel x reader

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thran-duils · 7 years ago

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I Wanna Feel You From the Inside

TITLE: I Wanna Feel You From the Inside PAIRING: Reader/AU Castiel SUMMARY: For @greenappleeyes‘ fic challenge. My prompts were “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and the quote, “Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress”. I wrote the fic listening to “Closer” on repeat and it definitely helped and set the mood. ;) STORY PLOT - Castiel is the leader of a team (left ambiguous, could be bad, could be good, could be vigilante) and the reader is one of his “soldiers” that he has a lustful relationship with. WORDS: 963

Masterpost

I wanna fuck you like an animal I wanna feel you from the inside I wanna fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

A finger tapping your shoulder made you jump to attention, pulling one of your headphones out. Castiel was towering over you, staring at you expectantly. “You amped up yet?”

So, it was time. You pulled your other headphone out and paused the song. Shoving your ipod into the small pocket on your utility belt, you told Castiel, “As pumped as I’m gonna be for this.”

Castiel was dressed all in black, his suit form fitting, good for movement and combat. You had dressed similarly, ready to go hand to hand with someone if need be. It usually never came to that with your team but it was always smart to be prepared.

“Let me guess. Nine Inch Nails?” Castiel questioned as you rummaged through your bag.

The bag was meant to be left behind to be extracted by the team below yours but even so, you tried to leave it as light as possible. Just because they weren’t in your tier didn’t mean they should be treated like cattle.

Pulling your ropes out of your bag, you momentarily thought of last night when Castiel had you at his mercy. The night before a big assignment, he always had trouble sleeping and you were more than happy to help him get some well-deserved shut eye after a tousle in the sheets. At the thought, you could still feel the rope around your wrists holding you upright against his wall, his fingers stroking your clit, his eyes burning into you as he drove you to the edge, getting you nice and wet for him before he rode you raw.

You pushed the lascivious memories out of your head and commented, “It does get me in the mood.”

“In more ways than one.”

So much for not thinking about it anymore. You smirked at his quip and he noticed, throwing you a wolfish smile. At least you knew you would be rewarded in more than a monetary fashion after this. You couldn’t help but run your eyes over Castiel’s large hands, knowing that he was going to be gripping your hips tight later, leaving bruising finger tips yet again.

This was distracting you. You shouldn’t be thinking about this now. Again, you focused yourself again and pushed yourself into a standing position, going to work on clipping the ropes.

The two of you were holstering yourselves up, ready to take a dive, the only sounds being the traffic and noise of the city around you and the noise of clipping locks. No words were exchanged, the two of you focused on getting your ropes correct.

When you were sure you were hooked up correctly, you dipped down back to your bag and pulled out your favorite pair of glocks, fully loaded. You instantly scolded yourself seeing that you had forgotten to remove a suppressor on one. You were usually on top of things and this was a setback, even if it was minor.

Unscrewing the suppressor on your gun, you looked over at Castiel and broke the silence, “So, give me one good reason why I should wear a dress?” You tossed the suppressor into your bag, knowing that it was completely useless on this mission. You two were going to be making a lot of noise, so subtly was not on the agenda today.

Castiel had first suggested to your superiors that you infiltrate the party and go at it from the inside rather than breaking in from the roof and making your way down. You had argued that you wearing a dress was completely impractical if you were going to be working and Castiel had put up a fight and ultimately lost obviously considering the uniform you were wearing. You surmised that he had been extra rough with you last night considering that you, one of his soldiers, had surpassed him on the chain of command momentarily. He wanted you to remember your place.

“Well, first off, it would have looked sexier if you would have pulled that out from a holster on your thigh,” Castiel responded, giving you a flirtatious wink as he loaded a full magazine in his last gun, ready to go. “Straight up Angelina Jolie in Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

He looked so pleased with himself and you gave him a mocking smile.

Castiel’s eyes ran over your body, dragging really, before meeting your gaze again. “If I’m not mistaken, sir, I think you prefer this get up over a dress,” you taunted.

Chuckling, Castiel pulled the hammer back on his gun, “Honestly, I prefer no dress.”

Cheeky bastard as usual. But damn, if it didn’t make you even hotter and anxious for this to be over. You were going to give this all you got to make sure that you would be sitting on top of that man within the next hour.

“Well, if you don’t die on me, I’m sure you’ll get that as soon as we get back to headquarters.”

Cas met your eyes and pursed his lips in a kiss at you. “Look forward to it, baby girl.”

You hated that nickname and he knew it. But he also knew that it would piss you off enough to increase your adrenaline and make the sex better later when you were coming down from your high.

“Ass,” you told him before aiming both glocks down at the sky light and pulling the trigger.

The free fall into the building taking your breath away was only maybe half as good as Castiel would make you feel later, buried in you and fucking you like an animal.

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @intheir-dreams @marisayouass @afanofmanystuffs @greenappleeyes @holyheadharpies-quidditch-blog @misscherryberry @too-lazy-for-this-world @dragonchantant @cnopps3 @morbid-apricots @moon-and-stars-cas @castiels-broken-fool @thebookisbtr @jinxkatkazama @findingfitnessforme @xxmizzlexx @waywardmoeyy @cas-honeybee @musicalraven07 @willowtighe

TAGS NO LONGER WORKING: @demonicguardianangel @stori-teller

#Nicole’s mix and match challenge #castiel x reader #au castiel #garrison leader cas tho #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn challenge #spn fic challenge #castiel fic challenge #castiel fic #my shit

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bangwoolofbangtan · 4 years ago

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TIME

ENTERTAINER of the year

BTS

[Time magazine BTS interview ]

It’s late October, and Suga is sitting on a couch strumming a guitar. His feet are bare, his long hair falling over his eyes. He noodles around, testing out chords and muttering softly to himself, silver hoop earrings glinting in the light. “I just started learning a few months ago,” he says. It’s an intimate moment, the kind you’d spend with a new crush in a college dorm room while they confess rock-star ambitions. But Suga is one-seventh of the Korean pop band BTS, which means I’m just one of millions of fans watching, savoring the moment.

BTS isn’t just the biggest K-pop act on the charts. They’ve become the biggest band in the world—full stop. Between releasing multiple albums, breaking every type of record and appearing in these extemporaneous livestreams in 2020, BTS ascended to the zenith of pop stardom. And they did it in a year defined by setbacks, one in which the world hit pause and everyone struggled to maintain their connections. Other celebrities tried to leverage this year’s challenges; most failed. (Remember that star-studded “Imagine” video?) But BTS’s bonds to their international fan base, called ARMY, deepened amid the pandemic, a global racial reckoning and worldwide shutdowns. “There are times when I’m still taken aback by all the unimaginable things that are happening,” Suga tells TIME later. “But I ask myself, Who’s going to do this, if not us?”

Today, K-pop is a multibillion-dollar business, but for decades the gatekeepers of the music world—the Western radio moguls, media outlets and number-crunchers—treated it as a novelty. BTS hits the expected high notes of traditional K-pop: sharp outfits, crisp choreography and dazzling videos. But they’ve matched that superstar shine with a surprising level of honesty about the hard work that goes into it. BTS meets the demands of Top 40’s authenticity era without sacrificing any of the gloss that’s made K-pop a cultural force. It doesn’t hurt that their songs are irresistible: polished confections that are dense with hooks and sit comfortably on any mainstream playlist.

BTS is not the first Korean act to establish a secure foothold in the West, yet their outsize success today is indicative of a sea change in the inner workings of fandom and how music is consumed. From propelling their label to a $7.5 billion IPO valuation to inspiring fans to match their $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter, BTS is a case study in music-industry dominance through human connection. Once Suga masters the guitar, there won’t be much left for them to conquer.

In an alternate universe where COVID-19 didn’t exist, BTS’s 2020 would likely have looked much like the years that came before. The group got its start in 2010, after K-pop mastermind and Big Hit Entertainment founder Bang Si-hyuk recruited RM, 26, from Seoul’s underground rap scene. He was soon joined by Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, selected for their dancing, rapping and singing talents.

But unlike their peers, BTS had an antiestablishment streak, both in their activism and in the way they contributed to their songwriting and production—which was then rare in K-pop, although that’s started to change. In BTS’s debut 2013 single, “No More Dream,” they critiqued Korean social pressures, like the high expectations placed on schoolkids. They have been open about their own challenges with mental health and spoken publicly about their support for LGBTQ+ rights. (Same-sex marriage is still not legally recognized in South Korea.) And they’ve modeled a form of gentler, more neutral masculinity, whether dyeing their hair pastel shades or draping their arms lovingly over one another. All this has made them unique not just in K-pop but also in the global pop marketplace.

In March, BTS was prepping for a global tour. Instead, they stayed in Seoul to wait out the pandemic. For the group, life didn’t feel too different: “We always spend 30 days a month together, 10 hours a day,” Jin says. But with their plans upended, they had to pivot. In August, BTS dropped an English-language single, “Dynamite,” that topped the charts in the U.S.—a first for an all-Korean act. With their latest album this year, Be, they’ve become the first band in history to debut a song and album at No. 1 on Billboard’s charts in the same week. “We never expected that we would release another album,” says RM. “Life is a trade-off.”

Their triumphs this year weren’t just about the music. In October, they put on perhaps the biggest virtual ticketed show of all time, selling nearly a million tickets to the two-night event. Their management company went public in Korea, turning Bang into a billionaire and each of the members into millionaires, a rarity in an industry where the spoils often go to the distributors, not the creators. And they were finally rewarded with a Grammy nomination. On YouTube, where their Big Hit Labels is one of the top 10 most subscribed music accounts (with over 13 billion views by this year), their only real competition is themselves, says YouTube’s music-trends manager Kevin Meenan. The “Dynamite” video racked up 101 million views in under 24 hours, a first for the platform. “They’ve beaten all their own records,” he says.

Not that the glory comes without drawbacks: namely, lack of free time. It’s nearing midnight in Seoul in late November, and BTS, sans Suga, who’s recovering from shoulder surgery, are fitting in another interview—this time, just with me. V, Jimin and J-Hope spontaneously burst into song as they discuss Jin’s upcoming birthday. “Love, love, love,” they harmonize, making good use of the Beatles’ chorus, turning to their bandmate and crossing their fingers in the Korean version of the heart symbol.

Comparisons to that epoch-defining group are inevitable. “What’s different is that we’re seven, and we also dance,” says V. “It’s kind of like a cliché when big boy bands are coming up: ‘Oh, there’s another Beatles!’” says RM. I’ve interviewed BTS five times, and in every interaction, they are polite to a fault. But by now they must be weary of revisiting these comparisons, just as they must be tired of explaining their success. RM says it’s a mix of luck, timing and mood. “I’m not 100% sure,” he says.

They’ve matured into smart celebrities: focused and cautious, they’re both more ready for the questions and more hesitant to make big statements. When you ask BTS about their landmark year, for once they’re not exactly chipper; J-Hope wryly calls it a “roller coaster.” “Sh-t happens,” says RM. “It was a year that we struggled a lot,” says Jimin. Usually a showman, on this point he seems more introspective than usual. “We might look like we’re doing well on the outside with the numbers, but we do go through a hard time ourselves,” he says. For a group whose purpose is truly defined by their fans, the lack of human interaction has been stifling. Still, they’ve made it a point to represent optimism. “I always wanted to become an artist that can provide comfort, relief and positive energy to people,” says J-Hope. “That intent harmonized with the sincerity of our group and led us to who we are today.”

In an era marked by so much anguish and cynicism, BTS has stayed true to their message of kindness, connection and self-acceptance. That’s the foundation of their relationship with their fans. South Korean philosopher and author Dr. Jiyoung Lee describes the passion of BTS’s fandom as a phenomenon called “horizontality,” a mutual exchange between artists and their fans. As opposed to top-down instruction from an icon to their followers, BTS has built a true community. “Us and our fans are a great influence on each other,” says J-Hope. “We learn through the process of making music and receiving feedback.” The BTS fandom isn’t just about ensuring the band’s primacy—it’s also about extending the band’s message of positivity into the world. “BTS and ARMY are a symbol of change in zeitgeist, not just of generational change,” says Lee.

And in June, BTS became a symbol of youth activism worldwide after they donated $1 million to the Black Lives Matter movement amid major protests in the U.S. (They have a long track record of supporting initiatives like UNICEF and school programs.) BTS says now it was simply in support of human rights. “That was not politics. It was related to racism,” Jin says. “We believe everyone deserves to be respected. That’s why we made that decision.”

That proved meaningful for fans like Yassin Adam, 20, an ARMY from Georgia who runs popular BTS social media accounts sharing news and updates, and who is Black. “It will bring more awareness to this issue people like me face in this country,” he says. “I see myself in them, or at least a version of myself.” In May and June, a broad coalition of K-pop fans made headlines for interfering with a police app and buying out tickets for a Trump campaign rally, depleting the in-person attendance. Later that summer, ARMY’s grassroots fundraising effort matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter within 24 hours.

For 28-year-old Nicole Santero, who is Asian American, their success in the U.S. is also a triumph of representation: “I never really saw people like myself on such a mainstream stage,” Santero says. She’s writing her doctoral dissertation on the culture of BTS fandom, and she runs a popular Twitter account that analyzes and shares BTS data. “Anytime I’m awake, I’m doing something related to BTS,” she says. “This is a deeper kind of love.”

Devotion like that is a point of pride for BTS, particularly in a year when so much has felt uncertain. “We’re not sure if we’ve actually earned respect,” RM says. “But one thing for sure is that [people] feel like, O.K., this is not just some kind of a syndrome, a phenomenon.” He searches for the right words. “These little boys from Korea are doing this.” —With reporting by Aria Chen/Hong Kong; Mariah Espada/Washington; Sangsuk Sylvia Kang and Kat Moon/New York

FASHION CREDITS

RM: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes HERMES; SUGA: Jacket, shirt and necklace CELINE. Pants GIVENCHY. Shoes LOUIS VUITTON; Jung Kook: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes FENDI; J-Hope: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes LOUIS VUITTON. Necklace HERMES; Jin: Suit, knit top and shoes BALENCIAGA; Jimin: Jacket, silk shirt, pants and shoes CELINE; V: Suit, shirt and shoes ALEXANDER McQUEEN. Tie THOM BROWNE.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts update #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #min yoongi #bts time magazine #bts time 2020 #bts time #bts entertainer of the year #bts interview #bts time photoshoot #bts photoshoot #bts group photo #bts achievements #bts article

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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From Lupin III to Inspector Gadget: Examining the Heirs of Arsène Lupin

https://ift.tt/3p5oPe7

This piece contains spoilers for Netflix’s Lupin.

As Arsène Lupin, the gentleman thief created by Maurice Leblanc in 1905, is a renowned master of disguise, it is fitting that he has inspired a number of literary characters to take up his mantle. Arguably the most recognizable riff is Lupin III, a copyright-infringing, quasi-canonical descendant by way of Japanese manga and anime. Yet it wasn’t until Netflix’s new French mystery comedy-drama series Lupin—which reinvented the source material through Omar Sy’s Lupin and the lenses of immigration, racism, and fandom—that readers and viewers have truly been challenged to consider what it means to inherit, whether through blood or through books, an iconic character’s legacy. Consider this a field guide to the many different Arsène Lupins.

What is immediately intriguing about both Lupins is that neither is as white as the top-hatted, monocled thief that Leblanc created over a century ago. Assane Diop (Sy), the charismatic lead of George Kay’s Lupin, is a Senegalese immigrant whose father Babakar (Fargass Assandé) brought him to Paris for a better life. The lethal mix of elitism and systemic racism that they encounter via Babakar’s employers, the Pellegrini family, are what shape young Assane’s life into a revenge narrative, but also become tools in his career as a gentleman thief. Yet even Lupin III, created in 1967 by manga artist Monkey Punch (a.k.a. Kazuhito Katō), is introduced as the French-Japanese grandson of Leblanc’s Arsène Lupin. In the Lupin the Third Part II episode “The Southern Cross Looked Like Diamonds,” which concerns Japanese casualties of the Pacific War, Lupin discusses his dual heritage. Both adaptations add texture to their Lupins’ stories by not allowing them to move through society quite as smoothly as the original French thief.

That said, Monkey Punch’s Lupin III certainly benefits from a fair amount of family legacy by carrying on his grandfather’s and father’s reputation as a world-renowned thief, marksman, master of disguise, womanizer—you name it. He’s almost more of a reincarnation of the original than a descendant, with the only real change being the shift in period from the early 20th century to the swingin’ sixties. Monkey Punch also drew from Lupin III’s contemporary James Bond to enhance some of those darker and more adult aspects in the manga, while basing Lupin’s on-again, off-again romance with bombshell spy Fujiko Mine on D’Artagnan and Milady de Winter’s relationship from Alexandre Dumas’ The Three Musketeers.

According to a 1995 issue of Manga Mania, Monkey Punch had initially considered keeping the blood connection a bit more under wraps, having not obtained the legal rights from Leblanc’s estate, but was convinced to embrace the Arsène Lupin connections. While Monkey Punch’s adoption of the Lupin persona wasn’t kosher by copyright standards, it was also very much in the spirit of the character—asking for forgiveness rather than permission—as well as the creator himself: Leblanc borrowed Sherlock Holmes for a few Lupin adventures before Sir Arthur Conan Doyle realized, and only then changed the detective’s name to “Herlock Sholmes” for subsequent showdowns. Still, it did eventually backfire for him, though it also led to, fascinatingly, beloved animated character Inspector Gadget (more on that later).

Lupin Part 2: 2021 Release Confirmed by Netflix

By Kirsten Howard

Perhaps the most beloved iteration of Lupin III is in Hayao Miyazaki’s 1979 film The Castle of Cagliostro. Monkey Punch’s manga cast Lupin III as a rather unsympathetic master thief: callous about his victims, a caddish ladies’ man who often harassed women he saw as little more than sex objects. While the anime quickly established a moral code—stealing from rich people who either deserved it or would not overly suffer for it—it was Miyazaki’s film that gave Lupin III real heart. In rescuing princess bride Clarisse from a Gothic marriage, he displays a surprising sense of chivalry, especially when the plucky girl wants to be his sidekick. Lupin’s silent agony over turning her down lends the otherwise carefree heist film a shocking touch of melancholy, and lays the groundwork for a more well-rounded Lupin III in future outings.

The Lupin III bloodline has extended several generations into the future, though none of these descendants made much of an impact beyond their respective adventures. First there was Lupin III Jr. (yes, that’s his name), the son of Lupin III and Fujiko, who only ever existed in the manga. Elusiveness of the Fog, the nineteenth Lupin III TV special, uses a time machine to jump ahead to 2883 and glimpse Lupin XXXIII, a.k.a. Lupin the 33rd, identical to his green-jacketed ancestor. He gets three whole lines and mostly seems like an excuse to show that thirty generations later, little about the iconic thief has changed.

In between those two there was Lupin the Eighth, would-be star of a 1982 spinoff created in collaboration between Lupin III studio TMS Entertainment and French-American studio DiC Entertainment. The Lupin VIII series would have jumped a conservative five generations ahead, with the familiar crew’s great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren carrying on the same names, traits, and rivalries and romantic entanglements. But when the Leblanc estate got wind of this Japanese/French collaboration showing up on their continent, they put the kibosh on the project; only the pilot was animated, and was shut down before vocals had been recorded.

Because TMS and DiC had already lost their investment, they scrambled to come up with a replacement for the timeslot. And so Inspector Gadget was created, with the trenchcoat-clad cyborg bumbling his way into viewers’ hearts. Despite his complete lack of suaveness compared to any version of Lupin, you could say that, in terms of staying power, Gadget was Lupin III’s true successor.

Yet while Lupin III had every familial and financial resource at his disposal to continue his grandfather’s and father’s work, everything Assane Diop needs to know he learns from a book. The Arsène Lupin books, which Babakar gifts him right before he is framed for stealing the priceless Queen’s Necklace from the Pellegrinis. Babakar’s arrest, guilty plea, and prison suicide leave Assane burdened with a strange inheritance of misfortune, words, and blood money—as Madame Pellegrini (Nicole Garcia) pays for fancy schooling he otherwise would not have been able to afford. Attending a prestigious academy is where he forges friendships with fellow morally gray criminal Benjamin Ferel (Antoine Gouy) and his eventual partner Claire (Ludivine Sagnier) and learns how to code-switch among his peers.

Presumably, that upbringing creates the scaffolding of connections that allows him to move through high society, but his wealth and prestige in adulthood is all due to Arsène Lupin. Assane studies those books like religious texts, like instruction manuals, like the last connection to his late father. His obsessive fandom provides him the blueprints for foolproof heists that he enhances with his own experiences at playing with disguise. Though he does later employ prosthetics for his appearance as Twitter user Salvator, for the most part Assane doesn’t obscure his face. Instead, he trusts in his marks’ implicit racial biases that they will buy him as a deadbeat dad and immigrant janitor Luis Perenna, then not blink twice when staring him in the face as millionaire Paul Sernine in the course of the same evening. In prison, he literally counts on a white guard’s inability to differentiate between two black men to switch places with a prisoner.

Assane also continues his father’s tradition of gifting the Arsène Lupin books to his own son for his 14th birthday: Raoul (Etan Simon), French-born, mixed-race and equally enamored of the gentleman thief’s adventures. While it’s unlikely that Assane wants his son to make the same dangerous enemies, he clearly wants Raoul to see himself in the character—and to see his father, who understandably has difficulty showing his true self to anyone.

This by-the-book adaptation (Arsène Lupin entered the public domain in 2012) engages with the notion that anyone can embody an iconic character—that their skin color or class upbringing doesn’t have to match the original, that they don’t have to be a blood relation to inherit a persona. For all that Lupin III exists in his own right and will endure as a classic franchise, Assane Diop’s Lupin may be the truer heir to the gentleman thief’s legacy.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Lupin is available to stream now on Netflix.

The post From Lupin III to Inspector Gadget: Examining the Heirs of Arsène Lupin appeared first on Den of Geek.

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narisjournal-blog · 7 years ago

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Broken Reflection

Written by Rob Jackson (my husband).

This is his entry for @greenappleeyes 1k follower ‘Nicole’s mix and match’ challenge.

Dean x Jodie Word Count: 1,620

Prompts: ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons. Quote: ‘Whatever has broken your heart, know that I am here to listen.’

A/N: I’m gonna go weep in a corner because DEAN! (And because Rob’s story is freaking better than mine the bastard) Mine is coming soon, I swear.

***

Dean’s left hand gripped the side of the sink as his other hand throbbed in pain. He felt the broken shards of glass embedded in his knuckles. He thought he might have fractured one, maybe two, of his knuckles. Still, he held his closed fist against the glass and winced. Something about the sting was endearing; a reminder that there was still feeling, a sort-of beauty in this pain.

Around him, at his feet, lay a broken lamp he had thrown down mere moments before. Glassware, toothbrushes, hair product, all sitting abstractly on the floor. Each item a reminder of his chaotic outburst, almost taunting him that he’d lost it again.

Dean felt his heart thundering in his chest, he felt breathless and like his head was swimming. Dean gripped the sink tighter.

'What had come over him? Why now?’

Slowly, Dean raised his eyes to meet the stranger’s gaze. What he saw staring back frightened him. Anger. Loss. Pain. Toughness. Discipline. Regret? No, not regret. There was no remorse in those eyes. And that was what frightened him. As Dean studied every line and every contortion in the face looking back at him, he realised he recognised the man looking hard back at him… was his Father.

Dean’s hands shook as he fumbled for his phone, leaving bloody prints on the keys as he cradled the handset between his ear and shoulder.

It rang three times before the call connected

“Dean! To what do I owe this pleasure?”, the familiar voice filling Dean’s head and helping to ground him.

Dean paused before responding, feeling his throat clench and his eyes sting.

“Dean? Is everything ok? Are you in trouble?”

“No, no,” Dean coughed and answered quickly. “I’m fine, just…er… how are you?”

“Don’t do that, Dean!” Jodie replied, with a mix of motherly insight and friendly scorn. “I can tell when you’re bullshitting and trying to deflect. Besides, it’s been 5 weeks. High time you called to check in. How’s the hand?”

“What? How did you…?” Dean took his hand from the mirror and tried to flex his fingers. He winced at the pain. Yep; broken, he thought.

“Dean, come on. I know you’ll have been hunting. Something’s happened you’re not dealing with. And you won’t talk to Sam about it, so you trash your room and punch something. Gotta say, Dean. I was waiting for your call.”

Dean swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat and parted his lips to speak…

“Before you start, Dean, know that I know you are not 'fine’. Ok? I need you to know that I see you’re not ok. I hear these phone calls and your attempts to push it aside with some joke and sorry rock song reference. And if that’s what you want to do here, now, then I’ll listen. Just remember that I am here, Dean. And I know. I know you”

Jodie head Dean exhale. “Quite the speech”’ Dean said, knowing she was right.

“Yeah, well… So, what’s up?”

Dean took a long while before he answered. Jodie waited patiently.

“I’m messed up, Jodie. And I’m not just talking about my hand. There was this family, two kids and their dad. We saved them but the dad’ll never be the same. The things he saw. That changes you. And now he’s gotta go be dad to those two boys.

Maybe I’m tired. Goddamn, I could sleep for a month. Just bury myself in some small corner and emerge a new man when all this crap is dealt with. But then perhaps I’m more tired than I’ve cared to admit. Maybe I’m so tired of the way that things have been.”

Dean rubbed at his temples, “You ever thought about why you do what you do? Like, what’s it all for?”

“What’s on your mind, Dean?”

“Those kids, Jodie. Got me thinking about when I was that young. When life was 'normal’.” Dean scoffed as though he’d told a bad joke.

Normal? Ha! Always on the road, never staying long enough to plant roots. Never any friends. Never a home or sense of belonging.

For years, I was told where to walk, how to talk, how to fight, what to shoot… what to kill. I was conscripted, dammit. Daddy’s little toy soldier. Against my will. I didn’t have a hope in Hell at anything remotely resembling a normal life.

I was broken from a young age. Fashioned in to a weapon and loaded up for a war of revenge on every dark and scary thing you could imagine. And most of what you couldn’t.

“No kid should go through what you went through,” Jodie offered.

“My life was never gonna be bedtime stories and Sunday dinners. I get that. I was never gonna get the man’s love or respect unless I was slicing a Vamp’s head off, or burning a Wendigo.”

“Dean, you don’t make your kids earn your love, you just love them!”

Dean continued, “And through all of this, I hoped. I hoped that I could drown these feelings. In alcohol, in girls, in being the best damn brother I could hope to be. By being a better dad to Sammy than our actual father, John Winchester, could even dream to be!”

Jodie listened and heard the crack in Dean’s voice. 'John Winchester’, she thought and sighed internally.

Dean’s voice caught as he talked about his little brother. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes, then stroked his jaw.

“All this time, I’ve wanted to be him. Look like him, work like him. Make a difference, like him. And do you know what I realised? I’m damn good at it. I liked it. I like it. The power, the rush, my life, my love, my drive. Making a difference. And I guess in all this, he made me better, you know? He made me believe.”

“In what, Dean?”

“That even though I may never have got the life I wanted, maybe never will, I can help other people have theirs. That’s what I can do, Jodie. What me and Sam can do. We can save people’s chances at having a normal life. So that’s why I can’t stop. This pain, my lost childhood and every damn person that has died along the way. If it means someone else can be safe, if it means some other little boy’s daddy makes it home to read their bedtime story or carve the turkey after church then how can I stop? Knowing that every bullet I fire, every time I rain down on whatever messed-up monster is terrorising the next town, it could be the difference between family being together and not being together.”

“So I guess I’m grateful. No, I can’t forgive him for stripping me of a normal life. I… hate him… for that. But if that’s how I keep doing what I’m doing - all the good that can be for no in all this crap - then thank God for that bastard!

Dean stopped. He’d never called his dad that before. Not to anyone else.

“Jodie…?”

“Yeah, Dean.”

“Don’t tell Sam, ok?”

Dean heard Jodie hesitate momentarily before the inevitable, accepting, understanding voice that he had come to know and love and respect broke the air.

“Sure, you can trust me”

“I know. But this is for Sammy, ok? He can’t know about this. I can’t…”

“I get it. Big brother Dean has to be strong for his baby brother. You ever think that if you admit to him how you feel… that your Dad was… kind of a dick?… he might…”

“My dad was a hero! You don’t understand what he went through”, Dean snapped, regretting that decision.

“Dean, your daddy was a broken man. I’m not excusing that anger or giving him a reprieve on how he raised you. You can say he did his best, or whatever. God knows for anyone to go through what he did will knock seven hells out of that person. Dean, did he ever…?

Dean dismissed that comment. He wasn’t ready to talk about that. “I took… so much… from that man. The man who should have been there, should have protected me and Sam, gave me a gun and silver bullets to do the job. Maybe he wasn’t around all the time. But yeah, Jodie, what would you do? He did what he could! You don’t talk about my dad like that!”

Dean thought he heard Jodie roll her eyes. Instead she paused, then said, “I love you, Dean. You and Sam take care. Until our next chat…”

Dean knew he had hurt her.

“Jodie, I’m…”

“Listen, Dean; whatever has broken your heart, know that I am here to listen.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He meant it. He knew she did, too.

Dean clicked his phone shut and pocketed it, letting out a long breath as he clawed for the cracked bottle of scotch he’d knocked to the floor.

Taking a drink, Dean stared into the mirror; his broken, fractured, distorted face looking back at him through the cracks in the pane.

“Fuck, Dad!”, he sniffed and opened the cabinet to retrieve bandages and began to wrap his hand. Satisfied with the makeshift glove he’d created to protect his wound, Dean inhaled and puffed out his chest.

“Sammy,” he called, gripping the edges of the sink.

He heard Sam and the thud of his footsteps approaching. “Dean… you ok?”

“Peachy”, Dean lied through the door.

“Yeah”, Sam breathed. Knowing

Dean swept the bloody remnants of glass and gauze into the bin. Dean opened the bathroom door, swept out through the crack and pulled it shut firmly behind him.

“Let’s blow this joint. I want Tacos, dammit.”

*** Tags: @afanofmanystuffs @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @quixoticcat @trashforwinchesters @ironiccasifer @natasha-cole @greenappleeyes

I’ve tagged my everything list even though I didn’t write it. 😊

#nicole's mix and match challenge #dean winchester #dean x Jodie #Jodie mills #jody mills #dean x Jody #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #angst #dean winchester angst

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alicelong · 4 years ago

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2.) A person who you admire

I adore my parents. They have given me their unconditional love and support from day one. I wouldn’t be who I am today without them. They’re both now in retirement, both took it ‘early’ which I love, they now have more time for them. With Dad previously working as a fireman he was always on shifts and did very physical tasks and labour, working a range of different jobs from his teens and early twenties too. Mum was in banking, fought cancer off like a warrior in her early forties and then opened her own catering business. They’ve both inspirations and have shown what hard work and determination can achieve. When I was at school I was unsure about college and university, I got myself into a bit of a state worrying and stressing about the next steps and future. I think that happens to a lot of teenagers though, the pressure of having a five-year plan, all ‘your ducks in a row’ ready to go. That’s without the other pressures from their peers, raging hormones, battles with body image, sex (having it or lack of) relationships (again trying to keep one or trying to be in one,) searching for a part time job, learning to drive and the rest! They calmed me down and got me to take just one step at a time. Not to think too far ahead, we went to open days, I talked to my sister more about college life and went from there. Not to sound smug or like a show off but now I have three A levels, 2 AS Levels, a foundation diploma in art and design and a Frist for my BA Hons Degree. Pretty proud of that (gives self a small pat on the back.) My parents encouraged me then and still do now to be happy. Genuinely happy. Not ‘oh I’m fine’ plods along then cry behind closed doors, as I’ve done that. I had real low points at work, it made me stronger and more resilient, I learnt a lot about what not to do and what makes a toxic work environment, I know now more about the warning signs, little or large. I think back at the angry rants and late night tears I had, they would listen and offer advice and kind words, I know they wanted me to leave and be happy. I ended up having three months off and changed locations/teams which did the world of good. My final year at work I kept thinking about other avenues, other jobs, going back to university, learning more...just doing something different. I felt very stagnant where I was before I quit, ground hog day mode. I love to learn. To challenge and push myself. I loved that feeling of being top of the class at school and in the ‘upper/top’ sets. Considering I was a little hesitant with college and university (oh the joys of teenage and hormonal angst and worry) I thrived when I was there. My strong work ethic comes from my parents, but also knowing that they will love and support me no matter what I decide to do. My sister is a real fire cracker, she has a BA, MA and PGCE degree, super smart, kind with a heart of gold. I joke and call her a ‘proper adult’ as she has a house, mortgage, 2 dogs and a partner of 9 years (see proper grown up!) She loves to learn too, with all the degrees! She talks so passionately and would love to study a PHD as well. She’s always there for me at the end of the phone, we both talk in the same fast paced and loud way. We have big personalities and matching values and core of family, love and loyalty, J-Lo is just amazing, I started watching her films and listening to her music back in primary school and have loved her ever since. She’s 51 and looks ABSolutley phenomenal (note at the emphasis on ABS.) I admire her and have a big crush, so it’s a mix really of admiration and looking up in a ‘oh wow’ mindset. She’s had a blossoming career or over 30 years, a triple threat. It’s great to see more women on the screen over the age in forty in different roles – not simply Mum, Grandmother or witch. I love Meryl Streep, Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon, Margot Robbie, Viola Davies, Phoebe Waller-Bridge – the list can go on and on, that’s just for a handful from film and tv. Big love for Ellie Goulding, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Taylor Swift. All unique and brilliant in their own way, song writers and performers. I have some nostalgia (of course) as their early albums remind me of my teen years, then later albums are gym and night out songs. I just saw online today that Ellie Goulding is releasing a fitness, lifestyle book later on this year. That’ll be on the Christmas list. Taylor Swifts documentary from 2020 was really eye-opening showing how she has grown up over the years but felt she was ‘frozen in time’ particularly with the press and production companies. Katy Perry has just had her first baby at 36 after six albums, four massive tours, fragrance releases, stints on American Idol along with a concert movie. It’s refreshing to see women having children later and below they have all achieved so much, only listing a handful of factors below - that’s without philanthropy, charity work, political activism along with other endorsements and partnerships. All four women below are successful, hardworking women without children. Ellie – 34 – four albums, four tours and onto more ventures. Gaga (Stefani) 34 – six albums, six tours, Vegas residency, Academy, BAFTA, Golden Globes. Rihanna - 32 – eight albums, seven tours, Grammy awards, acting credits and a lingerie and make up line. Taylor – 31 – nine albums, five tours, Grammy and Emmy awards, They’re all up to more projects and exploring new avenues in the thirties, doing things for them! It’s what I like to see and makes me think of age as less of a number. I feel more excited now at 26 knowing I’m starting something new with my degree and the move. I don’t think about marriage or children really, I see a lot of that happening on my social media and it’s nice if that’s what is right for that person but not yet for me. I’ve still got so much I want to do! Oh Gloria Steinem! As I’ve been reading her books and watch her live talk with the British Library recently! What a career and journey she has had over the past sixty years and still going!

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evii-alison · 7 years ago

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What do J.Lo, Miley Cyrus and Nicole Ritchie have in common? They all have the wonderful and insanely talented costume designer and stylist Simone Harouche dressing them. She even made the Hollywood’s top 25 most powerful stylists along with Tanya Gill, L’Wren Scott, and my least favorite at No.1, Rachel Zoe.

Simone has worked with some of the biggest names in the industry including Demi Lovato, Ashley Tisdale & Panic at the Disco, as well as her close friend since childhood Kim Kardashian, who classes Simone as a hero for calling the police the night of her Paris robbery. I’m even more jealous that she’s worked with photographers like John Rankin, Ellen von Unwerth & Mark Seliger amongst others.

After the Paris robbery Simone said, “After getting off the plane after what happened, all I wanted to do was just come to my house. It always just felt comforting. I never felt weird after that about the security or anything … Just because my house, you know, it’s your safe place.”

Simone isn’t a slow mover, it only took her a few years after graduating from Parsons School of Design in New York to climb her way to key stylist after she started in fashion in 2002. Her first major job was none other than Christina Aguilera’s Vanity Fair Oscar Party, who had been promoting her “Back to Basics” album in 2006.

She also has her own company making gorgeous boho shoulder bags called Simone Camille.

As a confessed vintage junkie, Simone likes to travel the globe collecting beautiful pieces for her wardrobe and home. It was clearly only a matter of time before she turned her styling talents towards interior design.

The celebrity stylist originally had a 1930’s colonial style home in Beverly Hills, California, with her husband Marc Bretter, a commercial real estate agent, which they moved into after their wedding.

Simone had originally hired Courtney Applebaum to decorate the home before having any children and had been flirting with the idea for some time of giving her home a makeover after the birth of her first child. ” I decorated our house before Dashiel was even a thought in our minds. I am sad to say that pretty much everything is non kid-centric. I didn’t really take into consideration the concept of sharp corners when choosing pieces.”

Their next home was a beautiful 1920’s Spanish-style home. This time Simone felt more comfortable with the design concept and took on the challenge of decorating the home herself. Friends commented that a wall should be taken out to create a larger kitchen area, “but that’s not a Spanish home …. Part of their character is in those little spaces or in the archways” she states. She believes in respecting and admiring the original architecture of a home.

Simone has said that her home vibe is definitely eclectic. “I like interesting pieces, but also want to make sure it’s all comfortable and cozy. I want the room to look inviting but also interesting. My taste ranges from traditional to mid-century to a little bohemian. But Somehow, I think it all comes together in a somewhat cohesive way.”

Simone stated on Instagram about how much she loved interior design and that she was working on a complete home redesign. On her choice of changing careers she said, “I kind of just allowed myself to make choices and be like, OK, it might be a mistake but at least you are following your instincts.”

When it comes to the redesign, the work is beautiful. With Simone’s lack of formal interior education, it allowed her to look at her home in a more open-minded perspective which allowed for a lot more creativity. Creativity was the winner of the day, as those who’ve seen her home were inspired by her work and have since become her clients.

Here in the living room the sausalito tiles are painted with white epoxy to create openness and contrast. The built-in shelving match the beautiful exposed beams to create a sense of neutrality. Small touches like the swing and the painting in the background hint at Simone’s playfulness.

When asked about the risk of hanging a swing she says, “The joke is like everyone who walks in, ‘Are you OK? This is insane,’” says Simone. Insane because who puts a tree swing in a home, and insane because who puts a tree swing beside a glass coffee table when they have two adorable, wee babes?

Visitors come around though once they sit on it. “They are like, ‘I really like this. This is really relaxing,’” says Simone. After all, “it’s still an adults house, too.”

When it come to the kitchen, Simone wanted a brass island. Even though her husband thought it was crazy, the end result was worth the risk and definitely makes a statement.

It took four months to complete her Børge Mogensen dining set after she fell in love with two vintage chairs that she had seen and had to have. It was well worth the effort.

The bathroom itself utilizes reclaimed tiles from Italy giving it a clever mix of old modern.

Simone builds rooms around statement pieces the same way she would craft an outfit around a statement dress or shoe “so that everything works together in a fluid way.” Although Simone loves her vintage finds, for the headboard in her bedroom, she bought a slab of wood from Northern California and had her nightstands custom made, creating a natural and serene environment.

Knowing that Simone has clients, I can’t wait to see what work she produces in the future….

What do J.Lo, Miley Cyrus and Nicole Ritchie have in common? They all have the wonderful and insanely talented costume designer and stylist Simone Harouche dressing them.

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atc74 · 7 years ago

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You Have My Word

Written for the Break The Zone Challenge #4 (check out the ML here). My bestie @just-another-busy-fangirl picked the prompt: “Have you still got your blindfold on?” His voice came from where he was tied up behind me. “Yes,”“Promise me you won’t take it off,” and here is the product of my musings.

As you can see, @iwantthedean and her Gil McKinney crisis were the inspiration and this is a NicKinney ship. So if shipping ain’t your thing, get skipping; it won’t bother me none.

WC: 2400+

Pairing: Nicole x Gil

Warnings: Medical speak, mentions of injury, taking of hostages, gunshots, violent situation - if you find any of this triggering, please do not read.

A/N: This is angsty with a fluffy finish (Have ya met me?). Feedback is appreciated.

Thursday’s were touch and go at the hospital, especially the emergency department. Nicole had spent the last couple of hours with a child that had broken his arm falling off the monkey bars at school. Before that, it was an outbreak of food poisoning from a church outing the night before. It had certainly been a messy, but mundane day.

Nicole had just stretched out in the breakroom for her dinner break, a rare occasion in itself, when she heard a commotion outside the doors. She got up and moved to the door, opening it slowly to see what was going on when she saw a woman covered in blood being wheeled into a procedure room.

“Well, it was good while it lasted,” she muttered as she tossed her soda into the nearest garbage can and strolled back into the E.D. This is what she lived for. As a student studying to get her Physician's Assistant degree and an EMT, Nicole loved the rush that came from saving a life in a situation like this. She readied herself with steady breaths and walked through the doors to where her newest patient had been brought in.

“What’d’we got?” she called out waiting for the assessment.

“White female, mid-twenties, multiple GSW’s to the chest and abdomen. Decreased breath sounds; patient was given O2 on scene. BP is 92 over 70 and falling,” the EMT team transferred her to a bed and rushed back out.

“Page Dr. McKinney, please. Alright people, let’s get this one stable for the O.R.!” Nicole called out instructions as nurses rushed around the room following her orders.

“Hey Nic, whatchya got for me?” Dr. Gil McKinney rushed through the double doors and listened intently to Nicole’s assessment of the patient while checking the woman’s vitals. It was a secret to everyone else in the hospital, but Gil and Nicole had been seeing each other for almost a year.

With his good looks (think tall, dark and handsome) and easy-going nature, he had caught Nicole’s eye immediately. Being a professional, however, she was determined not to let her love life get in the way of her learning. Gil quickly broke through her tough exterior when a young patient had died on her watch one night several weeks later, though.

The young patient she lost was in a car wreck and there was absolutely nothing she could have done differently to save the young boy’s life, but that didn’t make it any less heartbreaking. She knew there would be tough or complicated cases, and cases that would make her want to quit, but this was the one that made her want to throw her scrubs out and look for something simpler.

She and Gil had gone to inform the family, but she ran out when the mother burst into tears. Gil found her later, on the floor of the locker room, tears streaming down her face. She quickly brushed them away and stood, ready to apologize for her behavior, but he stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms, one hand cradling her head gently, as he swayed her back and forth.

They stood like that for what felt like hours; Gil whispering words of comfort and encouragement. She pulled back to thank him and his lips met hers in a feather light kiss; she was a goner after that. She quickly discovered that Gil stood for everything she did and they were not only a great match in their private lives, but they worked flawlessly together in a adrenaline fueled, life or death situation.

The look on Gil’s face went from intent to urgent when the patient went into ventricular fibrillation on the table.

“She’s in V-Fib!” Nicole jumped up, kneeling on the bed and immediately started chest compressions.

“We need to intubate!” Gill called over the din of the room and he was handed the supplies. He expertly inserted the device through the patient’s mouth and into her trachea. “Bag ‘er!”

“Charge to 200!” Nicole called from her perch on the gurney, still pumping on the woman’s chest.

“Clear!” she heard Gil shout and she pulled her hands from the body.

“Again! Charge to 250!” They tried again, but nothing. Nicole resumed compressions between each charge. They tried for over forty-five minutes, but the young woman’s body just couldn’t handle the trauma it has sustained.

“Time of death, twenty-one thirty-seven.” Gil pronounced the patient dead and Nicole hopped off the gurney, tossing her gloves and smock in the hazmat bin at the door. She followed Gil out into the hall.

“Do you want to come with me to inform the family?” he asked cautiously, as this was always the hardest part of the job.

“Yeah, we can do it together,” Nicole put on a brave face. No matter their age, it was always tough to lose a patient.

Gil and Nicole entered the waiting room, calling out for the patient’s next of kin. Three young men rose from the plastic chairs and walked toward Nicole and Gil.

“I’m Jake. That is my fiancee; how is she? I need to see her,” the first man asked Gil heatedly.

“Jake, I am Dr. McKinney, this is Nicole. Sir, I am so sorry, but the damage to Marisol’s body was extensive and while we administered chest compressions and oxygen for nearly an hour, her body gave out and she passed away. We are so sorry for your loss,” Gil remained professional and compassionate, but the man lost it.

“How could you let her die? You’re a doctor; aren’t you supposed to save lives?” The man lunged at Gil and he pushed Nicole behind him in an effort to protect her, but the other men were on the two of them before she could call security.

Suddenly all three drew handguns and a shot was fired. Screams filled the waiting room as people scattered, looking for cover.

“Everybody out! But not you two! No, you go back in there and save her! Now! GO!” Jake held his weapon to Gil, while another grabbed Nicole by the arm and held her at gunpoint as well. “MOVE!”

Gil and Nicole both turned and headed back to the procedure room where the woman’s body was covered with a sheet; blood soaking through the white cotton where it laid over her.

“Sir, there was nothing else we could do. Please let us call someone to help you,” Gil remained calm under pressure, as always.

“No! There isn’t anyone else, it is just her! And now she’s gone!” Jake screamed at them once more, Nicole cringing as the gun pressed into her side with more pressure.

“Jake, let her go; you can have me,” Gil tried to reason with him.

“No, you took something from me and now I am going to take something from you!” Jake shouted back.

The man holding Nicole threw her to the ground and bound her hands behind her. She could see them do the same with Gil and now they were back to back on the floor. Jake was pacing the floor, wildly swinging his weapon through the air as he ran his other hand through his short hair.

One man stood outside the door and the other in the corner, waiting for Jake to make a decision. “Blindfold her, Nick; I don’t want her to see what’s coming,” Jake directed his buddy.

The blood rushed from Gil’s face and he reached for Nicole’s hands behind him. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I won’t let him hurt you,” Gil tried to reassure her.

Nicole squeezed back her silent reply and closed her eyes as the large assailant, Nick, searched for something to block her vision. “Scissors, back pocket,” Nicole whispered, hoping the doctor heard her. When she felt his hand squeeze hers once more, she sighed in relief.

Gil’s mind was going crazy with different scenarios playing over and over; thoughts running wild, like children on too much sugar. He was going to do everything in his power to keep Nicole safe. They always say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone; he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not to her; to them. When they got out of this, he vowed he would tell Nicole how he truly felt.

“Jake Morris? This is Detective Ackles, Houston PD. We are here to help you. What can I get you, Jake?” A tinny voice came through the speaker on the phone in the room.

“You can bring my Marisol back! It wasn’t her fault! It should be me, not her!” Jake’s screams startled Nicole but she didn’t have time to react as Nick finally found some gauze and tightly wrapped her head and eyes. Although she could not see through the gauze, it was still light and she saw shadows pass before her. This gave her some hope.

“Now Jake, we both know I cannot do that. I have Dr. McKinney’s notes in my hand and I can see they did what they could to save her. Do you want to tell me what happened? Jake, I know you have a record and have been in some trouble; tell me about what happened to Marisol so I can help you.” Det. Ackles was calm as he tried to talk Jake down.

Gil’s eyes scanned the room, looking for anything he could. He had been involved with martial arts most of his life and recently picked up Mixed Martial Arts to help him stay in shape, so he knew he could fight one or two people, but there were three and they had guns. His first thought was getting Nicole out and safely away from this situation.

He let go of her hand and extended his fingers as far as they would go, but he couldn’t reach her back pocket. Nicole shifted behind him and he finally gained purchase on her scrubs and felt his fingers close around the handle of the scissors.

“It was just one more time, man; just one more. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She came to ask me to come home, forget the deal. But it went south and she got hit; I screwed it up and now she is dead!” Jake had crawled onto the gurney and was holding Marisol’s hand. His body wracked with sobs as he made his confession.

“Have you still got your blindfold on?” Gil’s voice came from where he was tied up behind Nicole. Gil was able to position the scissors and cut through Nicole’s bindings before working on his own.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Promise me you won’t take it off until I tell you,” Gil demanded of her. Nicole laid her head back to rest between his shoulder blades and he felt her nod.

A thump could be heard outside the room they were being held in and Gil noticed that the third man was missing from his post outside the door. This drew Nick’s attention, but not Jake’s; he was still on the gurney, repeating Marisol’s name over and over.

Gil saw his opportunity and gave Nicole warning to run and hide. She pulled the gauze off her eyes, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room and launched herself through the second set of doors as Gil jumped up to make his move.

Gil was smaller than Nick, but what he lacked in weight and height, he made up with speed and agility. Gil swung out his right leg, landed a solid kick to the larger man’s kidney, bringing him to his knees. Gil lurched forward, kicking once more at his hand, knocking the weapon free and it skidded across the floor.

Both men fought for purchase on the slippery floor, but Gil was faster and reached the gun first, his foot connecting with Nick’s nose in a crunch and a rush of blood.

The door burst open and two armed officers restrained Nick in cuffs. Jake hadn’t even noticed them in the room, until they tore him from Marisol’s dead body and forced the cuffs on him.

Another officer entered the room and relieved Gill of the weapon, before shaking his hand. “What you did was reckless and stupid, but you did good, Doc,” the man told him.

“Couldn’t let anything happen to my girl, Detective,” Gil admitted to the officer, a smile lighting up his face.

“Jesus H Christ Gil, you both coulda been killed! And I ain’t going to my best friend’s funeral ‘cause he was stupid!” Det. Ackles shouted at him.

“Jack, come on! We train together; don’t think so little of me,” Gil reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah. Go get yer girl, Doc.” Det. Ackles wrapped Gil in a bear hug before releasing him to find Nicole. “She’s at the nurse’s station getting checked out by an EMT.”

“Oh, that is going to go over like a lead balloon. You know she trains those guys, right?” Gil laughed as he darted out of the room.

~*~

Later that night, Gil and Nicole were cuddled up on his couch, a blanket covering them both as each of them silently replayed the night’s events, the television providing the only light in the room.

Gil turned his body, disturbing Nicole. “Hey, I, um, I gotta say something. After tonight, what happened, what could have happened, I need you to know something. This has been an amazing year and I want the whole world to know. About you. About us.”

“Gil, are you sure? I don’t want to jeopardize anything for either one of us at work.” Nicole’s brows furrowed with concern.

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life, except that you are the most important part of it. Tonight, I thought I was going to lose you and that would have been a fate worse than death. I love you, Nicole Elizabeth, will you marry me?” Gil had dropped to one knee in front of her and held out a simple diamond solitaire on a gold band. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“Oh Gil, I was so scared I might lose you tonight, too. I love you. Yes, I will marry you. I would be honored to wear your grandmother’s ring,” her voice clear in the quiet space as he slipped the ring on her finger.

“I am never going to let anything happen to you. You have my word on that,” Gil promised her forever as he held the girl of his dreams in his arms that night and every night after that.

If you liked this, check out my master list or leave me feedback.

Taglist - add or remove yourself here: My BTZ Crew: @iwantthedean @chelsea072498 @paintrider13-blog @d-s-winchester @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @just-another-busy-fangirl @winchesterprincessbride @waywardjoy @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mamaredd123 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @sis-tafics @deansdirtyduchess @katymacsupernatural @tankcupcakes @death2thevirgin @wonderange

Forevers: @padackles2010 @smoothdogsgirl @meeshw777 @tmccarney @milkymilky-cocopuff @ashstrom87 @zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @scorpiongirl1 @gemini75eeyore @katewatso @cosmicpeanuthologram @jotink78 @l8nitl0vr @supernaturalyobsessed @memphisgirl1977 @bmcnally85 @ruprecht0420 @mskitty416 @theoriginalvicki @hexparker @nanie5 @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @sandlee44 @fangirl1802 @moonstar86 @raylin19 @niamandthings @feelmyroarrrr @kittenofdoomage @t-bear99 @hamartiamacguffin @colorfulobjectenemy @uttertrash--butlikecutetrash @sammieb1127 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @moshingatthedisco @winchestersmut @alicat-life @mogaruke @cyrilconnelly @growningupgeek @charliebradbury1104 @evansrogerskitten @therewillbeblood @docharleythegeekqueen @megansescape @taste-of-dean @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @deathtonormalcy56 @notnaturalanahi @jensen-jarpad @impalaimagining @fangirlextraordinaire @itseverythingilike @jesspfly @love-kittykat21 @mrswhozeewhatsis @supernatural-jackles @samwinlover @iamnotsaneatall @autopistaaningunaparte @blacktithe7 @emoryhemsworth @dracotomanddeansprincess23 @bringmesomepie56 @devilgirlsarah @spnbaby-67 @holytrenchcoatedsubtextchuck @emilycollins11 @myoutletforfanfiction @deansangelgirl @mizzzpink @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @kayteonline @rockhoochie @wheresthekillswitch

#btz #break the zone #Gil McKinney #gil McKinney fanfiction #gil x nicole #nicole x gil #NicKinney #I ship it

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wsmith215 · 5 years ago

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NCAA tennis champion Estela Perez-Somarriba has unfinished business at Miami

Across the NCAA, seniors were left asking “What if?” in March, after the coronavirus pandemic canceled the remaining winter and spring sporting events. Here are the stories that show the sudden, complicated, controversial and emotional endings athletes have been coming to grips with over the past few weeks.

On the morning after the NCAA announced it would allow seniors playing spring sports to return for an additional year following the cancellation of the remainder of the season due to the coronavirus pandemic, Estela Perez-Somarriba woke up in her apartment in Coral Gables, Florida, and knew what she wanted to do. She was going to return home to Spain, self-isolate with her family and prepare for the start of her professional tennis career.

But by that afternoon, after a few hours to let the weight of her decision sink in, Perez-Somarriba had changed her mind. As the defending NCAA singles champion, she thought she had unfinished business to take care of. She loved her time at Miami and wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to the team or the school.

She was going to stay. Perez-Somarriba became the school’s first athlete to announce her decision to return with a letter on the athletic department website. She hasn’t second-guessed the decision since.

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“It was a challenging decision, but I’m really attached to UM, and finishing my college career the way I always dreamt of is important to me,” she said. “There’s still so much I want to give to this program. I think only student-athletes could relate to this, but when you spend so much time with your coaches and your teammates and representing the university, it means so much and is just so special.

“I was also concerned about all of the uncertainty [at the professional level] right now, and there are so many questions about tournaments, traveling, sponsorships and my own family being quarantined in Madrid. I realized it was going to take quite a while to go back to normal. So I thought, I’ll use this time to get better, to keep practicing and keep improving. I’m pretty sure I made the right decision and am excited about next year.”

Now the 21-year-old will have one more year to expand upon her prolific collegiate career, which has already cemented her in Hurricanes lore. Perez-Somarriba became the second Miami player to win an NCAA title last spring (Audra Cohen in 2007 was the other), and with a 141-23 record in singles play, she has the most wins in school history (a record she broke in January). She’s a two-time ACC Player of the Year, a four-time All-American and the 2019 recipient of the prestigious Honda Award.

While she says she tries not to get too wrapped up in accolades, she does hope to repeat as NCAA champion next season and admits that she feels some motivation when she knows a record is on the line.

Head coach Paige Yaroshuk-Tews knew Perez-Somarriba was a gifted tennis player when she first arrived on campus as a freshman, but the coach admittedly didn’t think Perez-Somarriba was capable of being the best in the country. Yaroshuk-Tews had some concerns about Perez-Somarriba’s fitness but was immediately impressed by her work ethic and willingness to improve.

“I remember when she first came in, we had the whole team line up at the Watsco Center to run sprints,” Yaroshuk-Tews said. “And she made it back to the line and didn’t look very good. She was gassed, and her face was so pale, I was just about to tell our strength coach to let her sit the next one out. But then he blew the whistle, and she just took off. She went from looking like she was about to pass out to sprinting past everyone. We still joke about it, but that’s [the] thing with her. Once the whistle blows, she’s ready to go, no matter what.”

Estela Perez-Somarriba is the second player from Miami to win the NCAA women’s singles title. Manuela Davies/USTA

That drive and never-quit attitude have been the hallmarks of Perez-Somarriba’s time at Miami, and she has tried to soak up everything she can from the school. She is lauded by the coaching staff for her tireless efforts, on and off the court, and for doing whatever she can to improve her game. With Perez-Somarriba one of two seniors on a team otherwise entirely made up of freshmen, Yaroshuk-Tews asked her to step up as a leader. In typical fashion, she more than responded to the request.

“For the past three years, she’s understandably been focused on herself, but she was able to step out of that box and develop herself as a leader and become one of the better leaders that I’ve ever coached,” Yaroshuk-Tews said. “The girls really respect her and listen to her, and her personality started to rub off on them in an amazing way. It will be fun to see her get another year with them.”

Like most schools across the country, Miami closed its campus, including athletic facilities, and switched completely to online distance learning in March. Perez-Somarriba stayed at her apartment off campus, where she has been the past two months. She completed her bachelor’s degree in economics (with a 3.928 grade point average) and will graduate at the school’s delayed ceremony in December. She has been staying in shape with frequent runs and by using a stationary bike and some dumbbells she bought for her apartment.

She has been reading, cooking, Facetiming with her family in Madrid, finding new plants for her apartment and indulging her curious nature by researching anything she finds interesting online. A self-professed homebody, she hasn’t minded the downtime or being on her own. Yaroshuk-Tews says it’s Perez-Somarriba’s maturity and focus that have allowed her to continue to thrive, despite the unprecedented circumstances.

“She is the only kid that is asking during the pandemic to get into the equipment room to get some kettlebells and is setting up a personal gym in the living room of her apartment,” Yaroshuk-Tews said. “She is not the most talented of all the kids I’ve coached in terms of athleticism, but her work ethic and her approach to her practices is honestly like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t think I’ll see anything like it again, either. You typically don’t see players that are as successful as she is but that are as humble and grateful for every single thing that’s given to them. When you mix that with her level of work ethic, the results are exceptional.”

Although the tennis courts on campus remain closed, a public court nearby has opened up as Florida eases its restrictions, and Perez-Somarriba and two of her teammates have been using it several mornings a week. The team has stayed in contact with frequent Zoom meetings, and Yaroshuk-Tews knows she can count on Perez-Somarriba to keep everyone’s spirits high with her positive attitude (and is appreciative that there is guaranteed to be at least one student-athlete on the call who didn’t just roll out of bed.)

Although so much remains in flux, Perez-Somarriba is determined to carry on as usual and is viewing her fifth year as the perfect opportunity for transition. She will look to defend her NCAA title (and break a few ACC records on the way) and complete a master’s degree in sports administration, but she also hopes to play in some professional events in the summer and fall, if and when the season resumes, to bolster her ranking and give her much-needed match experience against a higher level of competition.

As most of the players on the WTA tour skipped the collegiate level to turn professional as teenagers, Perez-Somarriba knows her résumé will be slightly different than those of many of her peers, but she has watched other college-stars-turned-pros, such as Danielle Collins, Nicole Gibbs and Kristie Ahn, succeed in recent years, and they have provided her a blueprint of what’s next. Still, she has modest goals to begin her career.

“I would like to make it to the top 100,” Perez-Somarriba said. “I just want to work hard every single day and just know that I gave it a shot, and I tried my best, and I did it the right way. If it works, great. If not, it doesn’t work. I just want to know I did everything the best I could to make my dreams come true.”

Perez-Somarriba got a taste of that dream when she played teenage phenomenon Coco Gauff at a sold-out homecoming exhibition match in February in Delray Beach, Florida. Gauff, then 15, was weeks removed from her fourth-round run at the Australian Open, in which she knocked off defending champion Naomi Osaka, and Perez-Somarriba was thrilled about the opportunity to play her.

Perez-Somarriba was coming off a win with her team at Georgia Tech, and her teammates and many of her friends were in the crowd to cheer her on against Gauff. She says she wasn’t intimidated by the moment and was excited to have the chance to gauge her skills against someone such as Gauff. Perez-Somarriba lost 6-3, 6-3 in 75 minutes, but she was pleased with her performance, and it fueled her belief that she could play at the next level.

“This is going to sound crazy, but I learned from that match that I could play against anybody,” she said. “Coco is such a great player, and she’s so young, and she has so much potential, but the fact that I was playing against her and kept it pretty tight, and I never felt as if I didn’t belong there. I actually felt comfortable and relaxed in that scenario and environment, and that has motivated me a lot. It gave me a lot of confidence, as well as exposing some of my weaknesses, so I left knowing some things to work on, and I’m still trying to improve [in those areas].”

For Yaroshuk-Tews, who watched proudly, the match was an incredible reminder of how much Perez-Somarriba has improved in her four years at the school.

“I just sat in the stands and took it all in. I just kept thinking, ‘Here’s a kid that came to the University of Miami, and I thought she, at best, would maybe be a No. 3 player for us, and now is out there playing Coco Gauff in front of a sellout crowd.’ The environment was unbelievable, and Stela more than held her own. It was just amazing to see how far she’s come.”

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almostafantasia · 7 years ago

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more than a name

wayhaught hogwarts au | chapter 8/?

Being an Earp at Hogwarts is tough. Being the youngest Earp and constantly living in the shadows of two older sisters is nothing short of a nightmare.

Willa, newly appointed Head Girl and Slytherin’s sweetheart. Wynonna, the notorious troublemaker who spends more time in detention than out of it. And then there’s Waverly, whose life crumbles into tiny pieces when she doesn’t get awarded the Prefect badge that she spent her first four years at Hogwarts striving towards.

Enter Nicole Haught – Hufflepuff, Muggleborn, and general bundle of sunshine – whose unexpected but not entirely unwelcome arrival into Waverly’s life puts Waverly on the path to discover who she is in more ways than one.

Read on AO3.

“Knight to E4.”

Waverly watches as Nicole’s charcoal coloured knight glides across the checkered board, before knocking over one of Waverly’s ivory pawns.

It’s not how she planned to spend today. With the whole of Ravenclaw house down at the Quidditch pitch watching their team presumably getting slaughtered by their Gryffindor opponents, Waverly took the opportunity to sneak her girlfriend of just two weeks into the deserted Ravenclaw common room for a covert makeout session on one of the soft sofas there. What she did not anticipate was that both of them would get distracted by a chess set laid out on a table before they could get their lips on each other, which is why they find themselves separated by a coffee table instead of wrapped around each other like initially planned.

It strikes Waverly as a terrible waste of time (privacy is hard to come by in Hogwarts and they currently have not only Ravenclaw Tower to themselves, but probably most of the castle too, and they can play chess whenever they like) but Waverly is competitive and so, apparently, is Nicole, so when the suggestion of a quick game of chess gets thrown into the mix, challenging each other becomes the only option.

“This game is obscenely aggressive,” Nicole observes, as Waverly commands her bishop to take one of Nicole’s pieces, knocking it over with a violent swing of its staff and then dragging the stone remains to the edge of the board.

“It’s just chess,” shrugs Waverly, already strategizing her next few moves in her head as her mind starts plotting out all the possible directions this game could go based on the options that Nicole has for her next turn.

“No,” Nicole chuckles softly under her breath, “this is chess on steroids.”

“Steroids?” Waverly repeats, testing the unfamiliar word.

“They’re a kind of drug that Muggles use to build muscle and enhance performance in sport,” Nicole explains quickly. “We have chess in the Muggle world too, only it’s much tamer. The pieces don’t attack each other and you move them by hand like this.”

Nicole reaches out to pick up her queen, only for the game piece to start whacking her thumb with its tiny stone sceptre.

“Ouch,” she yelps, withdrawing her hand as quickly as she would if her hand came into contact with a scalding object. “Queen to D3.”

“That sounds horribly boring,” Waverly muses softly.

Nicole smiles, and then says absently, “I have a chess set at home. Maybe we can have a game when you come and visit me in the holidays.”

Waverly freezes, and she watches the change in Nicole’s facial expression as she realises exactly what she’s just said. The smile falls off her face almost comically, then Nicole glances up at Waverly with guilt in her deep brown eyes as if waiting to see what irreparable damage her slip of the tongue has done to their budding relationship.

“When I … when I come and visit you?” Waverly asks, eyebrows raised as Nicole’s words start to properly sink in, filling her with the same kind of pleasant warmth that Waverly usually associates with drinking butterbeer.

“I didn’t…” Nicole tries to correct her mistake, but Waverly is quick to intervene.

“You want me to come and stay with you? You want me to meet your family?”

“Of course I do,” Nicole replies without hesitation. “That’s what … that’s what girlfriends do, right?”

It takes Waverly a moment to process what Nicole is suggesting, but when she does, a huge grin spreads across her face. Because this is exactly what she wants too, even if she hasn’t realised it until now. She wants to be let into that part of Nicole’s life; to have dinners with her parents and be shown photographs of Nicole from when she was younger, to meet Nicole’s Muggle friends and hear stories about Nicole as a kid, to watch Nicole exist in a world without magic and to fall in love with Nicole more and more with each glimpse she gets into Nicole’s life.

Waverly wants to know all of Nicole, and though spending time with her family during the school holidays is not just daunting but downright terrifying, it’s a logical step in their relationship that Waverly wants to reach and then surpass, until Nicole’s family is her own and vice versa.

“I want that too,” confesses Waverly, trying to reign in her eagerness while her mind flies at the speed of a racing broom with the limitless possibilities of a life with Nicole as they explore each new milestone of their blossoming relationship. “And I want you to visit me too. I know you’ve already met my sisters, but there’s Aunt Gus…”

“I want to meet her,” Nicole nods along enthusiastically. “I know how much she means to you and I want to prove to her that I’m good for you.”

Recalling Aunt Gus’s delight at the treats that Nicole sent her family for Christmas, Waverly replies, “I think she already loves you after that Christmas cake. And she’s only going to love you even more when she meets you.”

“Yeah?” Nicole asks breathlessly, her lips turning up at the corners in a hopeful smile.

Waverly lets out an exhilarated breath, then says, “Merlin, is it weird that I’m so excited by all of this? That even though we haven’t been together for very long, I’m already planning a future with you in it.”

“Not at all. You fit into my life like you’re supposed to be there.”

The chess game between them is long forgotten, and Waverly accidentally nudges the corner of the board in her haste to clamber across to where Nicole sits, knocking several of the stone playing pieces flying as she does so.

“What are you-?” Nicole starts to ask, as Waverly climbs into Nicole’s lap and sweeps her own long hair out of the way in a single swift movement.

“Screw chess. I want to kiss you.”

Nicole’s eyes widen dazedly, as if Waverly’s words hit her like a stunning spell, and she lets out a breathy laugh as her hands shakily seek out Waverly’s hips.

“Well,” Nicole mumbles, as one of Waverly’s hands finds the back of Nicole’s head and pulls her hair from its braid so that she can tangle her fingers into red locks and draw her mouth closer for a kiss, “if you insist…”

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Gryffindor win the game. Though Nicole kind of wishes that she could have watched the match, she has no regrets, not when her head is still giddy and her lips still tingle from Waverly’s kisses.

Oh boy, what kisses they were. Nicole feels as though she’s been granted an extra twenty years of life, just from the feeling of Waverly’s keen lips on her own. If it were possible for Nicole to kiss Waverly all day every day, you can be damn sure that’s exactly what Nicole would be doing.

At dinner that evening, Wynonna wastes absolutely no time in filling Nicole in with a play-by-play retelling of Gryffindor’s victory, so detailed (if a little biased) that by the time she helps herself to dessert, Nicole feels like she actually went to the match instead of secluding herself in the Ravenclaw common room with a chess set and an eager girlfriend.

“I can’t believe you two skipped out on the game to do homework,” Wynonna complains, her voice a little muffled by the mouthful of chocolate cake she’s just taken.

“Yeah, homework,” Nicole mumbles under her breath.

Beside her, Waverly lets out an almost inaudible laugh, while across the table, Dolls raises an eyebrow and shoots Nicole a look that tells her that her knows exactly what Nicole’s reasons for not attending the Quidditch game were.

Wynonna remains almost comically oblivious.

“We already knew that Ravenclaw would lose,” Waverly reminds her sister. “And I won’t apologise for not wanting to watch you show off on a broomstick for a couple of hours.”

Looking affronted, Wynonna glances across at Nicole, seeking her support. But as much as Nicole likes Quidditch, she thinks she like Waverly even more, and she’s not going to disagree with somebody who kisses Nicole with as much enthusiasm as Waverly has spent today doing.

“Sorry Wy, but she has a point,” Nicole concedes, shrugging apologetically.

Wiping chocolate cake crumbs from her lips, Wynonna gets to her feet with a scowl and says, “Whatever. You can all get bent. I have a victory party to go to.”

As she watches Wynonna leave the Great Hall, Waverly shakes her head and says, “One day, I hope a bludger hits her in the head and knocks some humility into her.”

Nicole laughs softly, then agrees, “We can only hope.”

Waverly loves kissing Nicole.

It’s her new favourite activity. More enjoyable than reading a good book, more rewarding than winning a game of Wizard’s Chess, more comforting than curling up under a cosy blanket beside a crackling log fire. Waverly could do it all day if her schedule were to permit it.

Waverly likes the slow kisses they share when they don’t have to worry about class or Quidditch practice or Prefect duties; she likes the chaste kisses they press to each other’s lips when they part ways for the night after an evening studying together in the library; she likes the carefree kisses that Nicole presses to her forehead or her cheek or her knuckles, a silent reminder that she’s still there; she likes the kisses that are fuelled by a fierce urgency and accompanied by wandering hands that dare to seek out new places.

Like now.

The deserted classroom is dark, but the fire with which Nicole kisses Waverly could set the entire castle alight. Waverly can only cling to the soft material of Nicole’s grey school jumper and try to kiss back with the same kind of intensity. The feeling of Nicole’s lips sliding against her own is stronger than even the most powerful of spells, like Nicole is charming Waverly with her kisses.

And Nicole seems to be enjoying herself too. She doesn’t moan, but she lets out these little breathy noises that are almost always followed by her lips turning up into a smile against Waverly’s and Waverly loves it. She loves being the one to make Nicole smile but she loves being the one that Nicole kisses, the one that Nicole wants to kiss and enjoys kissing even more.

And Merlin, knowing that sends a thrill of excitement through Waverly’s body, until her lips are tingling and her hands are thrumming with restlessness until she can’t help but slide them up to Nicole head, cupping Nicole’s jaw in the palm of one hand while the fingers of the other knit into her hair and keep Nicole’s mouth anchored against her own.

The action elicits another little gasp from Nicole, and this time it is Waverly who is smiling into the kiss.

“As a Prefect, I feel like I have an obligation to tell you that this corridor is Hogwarts’ second most popular hookup spot,” Nicole mumbles against Waverly’s lips, her voice breathless and a little gravelly, and knowing that she is out of breath because Waverly has been kissing her is yet another boost to Waverly’s ego.

“I think it’s fairly obvious that I didn’t bring you here for a conversation,” Waverly smirks in response. “Besides, the prefects won’t start their patrols until nine and we’ll be gone by then.”

Nicole’s hands slip beneath the lower hem of Waverly’s shirt, carelessly untucked as a result of their recent activities, and find the soft skin of Waverly’s waist underneath the fabric. It tickles at first because Nicole’s hands are a little cold, but Waverly just wants Nicole to be as close to her as physically possible and the skin-to-skin contact is something that she’s been unwittingly craving until this point.

“Oh yeah?” asks Nicole teasingly, as she leans down for another kiss.

Waverly accepts the kiss with an open mouth, letting Nicole’s tongue sweep into her mouth and humming enthusiastically in response. Her hands continue to play with Nicole’s hair, tugging at the locks and running the pads of her fingertips through the soft curls at the nape of Nicole’s neck.

Kissing Nicole induces a delirium within Waverly’s mind, an intoxicating rush swells and courses through each inch of her body. When Nicole kisses her, Waverly feels like she’s soaring high above the world, able to overcome the greatest challenges and knock down the tallest barriers. When she feels like this, Waverly is pretty sure that she could conquer anything.

When she feels like this, having that bubble popped is a horrible plummet back to reality.

Which is exactly what happens when the classroom door crashes open without any warning and Wynonna, of all people, stumbles inside. She isn’t alone. Close behind her is Perry Crofte, a seventh year, whose hand Wynonna drops the second that she notices Waverly and Nicole, who have jumped apart and put several feet of distance between their bodies in an attempt to pretend that they haven’t been making out.

Her eyebrows furrowing into a confused frown, Wynonna asks, “Why are you guys in here?”

Waverly looks up to Nicole with wide eyes, and she looks equally as stumped by the question. They both start speaking at the same time, responding to Wynonna without actually giving her a proper answer, fictional or otherwise, as to what they have been doing.

“We were just…”

“Um, yeah…”

“…you know…”

They stumble over their words like a pair of babbling idiots, gesturing with their hands where words fail and looking at each other in their desperation for find a reason for why they are tucked away in the dark corner of a secluded classroom just an hour before curfew.

It’s so obvious what they’ve been up to. Waverly’s uniform is crumpled and her school tie askew, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. Nicole is equally as dishevelled, her hair unruly from where Waverly’s restless hands have been teasing the red curls between her fingers. Guilt is plastered all over Nicole’s face and Waverly knows that it’s mirrored on her own.

There’s no way that Wynonna can’t know what she’s just interrupted.

And yet she remains unaware.

“You guys should probably pick somewhere other than the hookup corridor to hold your little homework club,” Wynonna says, as if she’s imparting some great and ancient wisdom upon them, rather than just proving her blind foolishness.

For Merlin’s sake, Waverly thinks to herself as she tries to smother a snort, they don’t even have any books with them.

“Well, yeah,” Nicole replies effortlessly, “but we’re practicing spells and we’re not going to get caught if we do it here.”

Waverly’s eyes widen as she catches onto Nicole’s excuse, slipping her wand discreetly out of the waistband of her school skirt so that she can pretend that she’s been holding it the entire time, before improvising, “Nicole is helping me perfect colour-change charms, you know, because she studied them last year.”

Wynonna’s eyes flit between the two girls, and for a moment Waverly thinks that she’s going to realise that they’re lying and bust them for their real use of this deserted classroom. But then Wynonna shrugs it off and Waverly sighs with relief when she realises that they’ve managed to get away with their feeble lies.

“Whatever. Perry and I were just … well, I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that we want to practice charms too?”

Waverly cringes, not wanting to know anything more about her sister’s personal life than she already does. (Seriously, why does Wynonna think it’s okay to regularly complain about Hogwarts’ male population and their disappointing skills in the copulatory department while in the presence of her younger sister?)

“Not a chance,” Nicole says to Wynonna.

Wynonna stands there awkwardly for a few more seconds, while Perry stays by her side, a look of inquisition on his face that suggests he might be slightly less blind to Nicole and Waverly’s situation than Wynonna.

“Well,” says Wynonna, after a few moments of excruciating silence. “Perry and I will just …” Wynonna gestures towards the door as she takes a couple of steps back, nudging Perry in the direction of the corridor beyond s she goes. “See you two losers around, I guess.”

Wynonna and Perry disappear out of the classroom as suddenly as they arrived, slamming the door shut behind them and leaving Waverly and Nicole alone once more.

Waverly slides her wand back into the waistband of her skirt now that the façade of practicing charms is no longer needed, and then grimaces in distaste as she says, “I’m sorry, but knowing that Wynonna is getting laid next door kind of kills the mood in here.”

“I can walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower,” suggests Nicole, eyes bright with enthusiasm and no trace to be found of any irritation that their clandestine makeout session has clattered to an abrupt halt following Wynonna’s interruption.

Waverly collects her school jumper from where it lies discarded draped over the back of a chair and pulls it over her head, concealing the shirt beneath it that has been rumpled by Nicole’s keen hands.

“You’re not mad that I haven’t told Wynonna about us yet, are you?” asks Waverly, as Nicole leads the way to the classroom door and opens it so that they can walk out into the corridor outside.

“Why would you think…? I’m not mad, Wave. Of course I’m not.” Nicole reaches for Waverly’s hand and gives her fingers a reassuring squeeze, then laughs softly to herself as she adds, “Besides, it’s almost funny how clueless she is.”

Waverly hums in agreements and slips her fingers between Nicole’s so that their entwined hands hang loosely between them as they start the walk up to Ravenclaw Tower.

“I don’t know,” shrugs Waverly. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of being with you. You’re so sure of yourself and I’m … well, this is still really new for me.”

“Yeah, and I know that and understand it completely.” With their intertwined hands, Nicole draws Waverly to a halt and spins her so that they are facing, using her free hand to brush Waverly’s hair over her ear as she says, “Listen, I’m just really happy that you want to be with me. I don’t care if you want to hide that or shout it from the tallest tower, as long as you still want me.”

Waverly nods, and then says, “I’m not hiding you.”

“I know.”

“I want to tell the whole world how lucky I feel to be the person that you’ve chosen to be with,” confesses Waverly, smiling at the thought of walking through these very same corridors during the daytime, Nicole’s arm draped around her shoulder as their fellow students look on without a doubt in their mind as to the nature of the relationship between the two girls. “But there are complications.”

“Willa.”

Waverly’s blissful daydream falls sour as her sister’s face swims to the front of her mind, dressed with an expression of disgust at the prospect of Waverly flaunting her relationship with Nicole so publicly.

“That’s definitely one,” Waverly nods in agreement.

“We’ve both seen what she’s capable of,” Nicole reminds her.

They start walking again, slowly ambling towards the part of the castle where Waverly’s dormitory is situated, their joined hands swinging between them as they go.

“And Wynonna…” says Waverly, trailing off to let out a long sigh, before she continues, “Deep down in my gut, I know that she won’t bat an eyelid. But there’s a nagging part of my brain that sometimes wonders…”

“If one sister can be an ugly homophobe, then who is to say that the other won’t be too,” Nicole finishes Waverly’s sentence for her.

Nodding, Waverly jumps in quickly and carries on, “And I know it’s ridiculous because it’s Wynonna.” Waverly smiles to herself and, deep in thought, she says, “You know, I always used to wonder if she’d turn out to be the not-straight one in the family. And I’m still not convinced that she is straight.”

Nicole laughs softly under her breath, then says to Waverly, “She did spend the whole of Charms yesterday talking about Rosita’s boobs and how annoyingly perky they are.”

Waverly laughs too and shakes her head because it is such a Wynonna thing to do, to push a guy that interested in her away because of her own commitment issues and then take it as a personal attack when he replaces her with somebody else.

Turning the conversation away from her sister and back to their relationship, Waverly sobers and asks, “But you understand? That right now I like the thrill of this being something that’s just between you and me.”

Nicole smiles to herself and adds, “And Dolls, and Jeremy, and every other person with keener observation skills that Wynonna.”

Waverly can’t help but chuckle lightly as she muses aloud, “How has she not figured it out?”

“It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Nicole agrees, a slow grin spreading across her face.

Gesturing behind her, back in the direction they have walked from, where Wynonna is presumably getting up to Merlin knows what in a dark classroom with Perry, Waverly says, “Well she’s clearly got other stuff on her mind right now.”

“I think Perry is on more than just Wynonna’s mind,” Nicole smirks suggestively.

“Gross!” protests Waverly, as her face contorts in disgust at the unwanted images that Nicole’s words are pushing into her mind. “That’s my sister!”

They arrive at Ravenclaw Tower, far too soon for Waverly’s liking, and though it’s time for her to say goodbye to Nicole and enter the common room for the night, she doesn’t quite want to part ways with Nicole just yet. They dawdle at the bottom of the staircase that leads up the tower, neither one wanting to be the one that says goodbye first.

“I’ve had fun tonight, you know,” says Waverly, as a way of delaying the inevitable moment that Nicole has to leave her to return to her own common room at the bottom of the castle.

“Oh yeah?” grins Nicole.

“Yes,” nods Waverly, stepping into Nicole personal space and enjoying the way that Nicole’s hands come to rest on her hips to keep her close. “We should definitely practice charms again tomorrow night.”

“You’re very devoted to your studies, Miss Earp,” Nicole replies, keeping up the pretence as they both continue to slyly poke fun at Wynonna’s unawareness.

“You know it,” agrees Waverly.

Wrapping her fingers around the yellow and black tie that hangs from its loose knot at Nicole’s collar, Waverly uses it to pull Nicole’s mouth towards herself, meeting her lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss. The amount of tongue she uses is borderline too much – definitely too much for being in such a public place, where anybody could leave or enter Ravenclaw Tower at any moment – but Waverly has something that she wants to prove to Nicole, that she isn’t ashamed of Nicole or hiding their relationship from the public.

And, to be completely honest, Waverly is still a little bit pissed that their kisses from earlier got so rudely interrupted and she wants to make up for what was lost.

When she’s satisfied that Nicole is going to need a cold shower before she goes to bed, Waverly pulls back with faux shyness on her face as she slinks towards the narrow spiral staircase that leads up to Ravenclaw Tower.

“Bye,” she whispers huskily, and it’s almost painful to drag herself away from Nicole and the look in her hungry eyes.

As she forces herself to leave and start up the staircase to her common room, Waverly swears that she can hear Nicole let out a low groan of frustration and smiles to herself in triumph.

“I don’t know about this, Wave. I mean, Astronomy Club?”

Nicole’s eyebrows are raised, her brown eyes filled with a speculative doubt, almost like she doesn’t want to even try to make good of Waverly’s invitation for Nicole to attend a meeting of Hogwarts’ Astronomy Club.

“Once,” insists Waverly, looping her arm through Nicole’s at the crook of her elbow and leaning into her girlfriend’s side as they walk towards the Astronomy Tower. “You only have to come this once. And then if you really don’t enjoy it you never have to come again.”

“Fine. But I’m warning you now, I was never any good at Astronomy. I dropped it the first chance I had.”

“That’s okay. But you can’t blame me for wanting to invite you. You know, me and you, staring up at the stars.” Waverly bats her eyelashes at Nicole and says in a dreamy voice, “Don’t you think that sounds romantic?”

“With, like, ten other people there,” Nicole snorts, rolling her eyes. She leans her head down to look at Waverly, fighting a smile off her lips as she adds, “Yeah, really romantic.”

“Stop that,” Waverly scolds her girlfriend, slapping Nicole playfully on the arm. “Or I’ll invite somebody else next time.”

“No you won’t,” challenges Nicole.

Waverly bites her own tongue in defeat, knowing that she’s been caught out.

“No I won’t,” admits Waverly. She drops Nicole’s arm but lets her fingers lace through Nicole’s, using their joined hands to drag Nicole towards the Astronomy Tower with slightly more speed, not wanting to be late for the meeting. “Come on, baby. We’re going to be late.”

Nicole has other ideas. She pulls Waverly to a halt, drawing their bodies in close as she smoothly loops both arms around behind Waverly’s back.

“Call me that again.”

“What?” asks Waverly. “Baby?”

“Yeah,” nods Nicole, an infectious grin spreading across her face as soon as Waverly utters the nickname again. “I like it.”

Waverly blushes and drops her eye contact with Nicole. The use of the pet name was accidental, nothing more than a subconscious slip of the tongue, but Waverly can’t deny that it feels right and the fact that it has Nicole grinning like a kid stepping into Honeydukes for the very first time is even more of a thrill.

“I like you,” Waverly replies shyly, draping her arms around Nicole’s neck as Nicole starts to lean down for a kiss with a smile pushing at her lips.

“Well if it isn’t Hogwarts’ cutest couple,” comes a voice from down the corridor, and Waverly pulls back from Nicole just a fraction of a second before their lips can touch, to find Jeremy strolling towards them, a smile on his face as he watches the interaction between the two girls. He turns his attention to Nicole, and then asks, “You’re coming to Astronomy Club, Nicole?

“Yeah, Waverly is making me,” answers Nicole, letting out a fake groan as if spending a little more time with her girlfriend is the world’s worst chore, though she slips an arm around behind the small of Waverly’s back to pull Waverly into her side in an affectionate gesture that counters her words.

“No I’m not,” banters Waverly. “I asked you if you wanted to come along and you said yes. And maybe that was because I offered you a bit of an incentive…”

Waverly raises one eyebrow suggestively at Nicole and then grins when Nicole’s eyes perceptively darken in response.

The arm around Waverly’s back drops slightly, Nicole’s hand sliding dangerously low on Waverly’s hip, as Nicole lowers her voice and replies, “You were very persuasive…”

“Okay, ladies!” Jeremy interjects loudly, popping the bubble of seduction that envelops the two girls. His cheeks are tinged ever so slightly with a flustered blush as he reminds them, “Still present!”

“Sorry,” says Nicole, though when her hand squeezes where it still rests on Waverly’s hip, Waverly has every suspicion that there is not an apologetic bone in Nicole’s body right now. “Shall we go?”

Jeremy leads the conversation as they complete the walk up to the tower, chatting happily about the constellations that they should be able to see in the clear skies above the castle tonight, while Nicole and Waverly trail close behind, hand in hand. As they share Jeremy’s company, Waverly takes note of how nice it feels to be open about her relationship with Nicole, to just exist together as a couple in the presence of somebody else.

She wants to feel this comfortable in herself all of the time.

When they reach the fortifications at the top of the tower, there is already a small group setting up for the club’s meeting. A row of brass telescopes is being lined up along the ramparts on the side of the tower that looks out over the Forbidden Forest. The three of them join in, with everybody wanting to start looking up at the night sky before any clouds can start to roll in and obscure the stars.

They’ve nearly finished setting up the telescopes around the balustrade of the tower when the door to the staircase creaks open, and Waverly’s heart sinks uneasily when she glances up to see who the newcomer is.

Willa.

The entire group falls silent as they notice the Head Girl amongst them, and Waverly waits for Willa to announce her reason for interrupting, knowing Willa well enough to know that she isn’t up to any good.

“Haven’t you heard?” says Willa, her voice cold but the barest hint of a smile on her face and a smug air to the way that she carries herself as she addresses the students. “It’s far too dangerous to let a group of unsupervised students play around at the top of the castle’s tallest tower in the middle of the night. As of tonight, the Astronomy Club has been disbanded.”

The members of the club start whispering amongst themselves, shocked by Willa’s revelation. As disappointed as they are by the news, however, not one of them speaks up against Willa, too terrified by her status to dare contradict her authority.

But it is Waverly, who knows Willa primarily as a sister before a Head Girl, who steps forward to confront Willa, outraged by the words that have just left her eldest sister’s mouth.

“Disbanded?” spits Waverly. “What the hell, Willa? You can’t do this!”

“Actually, as Head Girl, I think you’ll find I can,” says Willa, straightening her spine to further the height difference between them, an action which puffs out her chest and draws attention to the shiny badge pinned to the front of her robes.

“This is an abuse of power … a personal vendetta that you have against me.”

“Oh, don’t be so self-absorbed the whole time, Waverly,” says Willa, her voice laced with scorn.

Nicole steps forward, standing by Waverly’s side in solidarity.

“Waverly is right,” says Nicole. “The Astronomy Club has been a part of this school for centuries, supporting students who want to take a further interest in the subject beyond their normal academic studies, and you want to disband it now because you can’t be bothered to do your job properly.”

Despite the anger directed towards Willa that stews inside her, Waverly feels her heart swell with affection for Nicole. Not only is Nicole jumping to her defence and standing up to Willa, but she’s also defending the Astronomy Club with a surge of unexpected support that is the polar opposite to the reluctance to end the meeting of the club barely thirty minutes ago.

Willa doesn’t seem as impressed by Nicole’s act of defiance against her.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” she snarls at Nicole. “I could have your Prefect badge taken off you, you know.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Waverly wonders momentarily if she’s ever been as attracted to Nicole as she is right now.

With Nicole and Willa squaring off against each other and Waverly frozen to the spot, overwhelmed half by rage towards her sister and half by drooling adoration of her girlfriend, it is Jeremy who steps forward to intervene.

“Nicole,” he says, resting a calming hand on Nicole’s arm to stop her from before she can do something that she’ll end up regretting, “why don’t we save this conversation for later. You know, when there isn’t an audience?”

Nicole’s jaw clenches, her hand curls into a fist at her side, and for a moment Waverly thinks that Nicole is going to take a swing at Willa’s face. But after several long and tense seconds, Nicole looks across at Jeremy and nods once in agreement.

Jeremy claps his hands together once and turns to face the rest of the Astronomy Club, and then says, “Okay guys, you heard what Willa said. No Astronomy Club tonight. We’ll try our best to reach an agreement about the future of the club and get back to you about whether next week’s meeting will be taking place.”

There’s a bit more disgruntled muttering, but the group disperses and starts to put away the telescopes that have only recently finished being set up.

Waverly doesn’t help. Instead she wraps her fingers around Willa’s wrist and drags her across to the quiet side of the tower.

“Willa,” she says through clenched teeth. “A word, please?”

Willa wrenches her wrist out of Waverly’s tight grasp and moves her hand to rest on her hip. Nicole crosses to Tower to be with them, taking up position at Waverly’s side like a personal bodyguard ready to defend her at a moment’s notice.

“Why are you doing this?” Waverly pleads with her sister.

“I told you,” replies Willa, her body stiff and her answer dull and rehearsed, like she’s been planning this for a while, “the Prefect team is responsible for all extra-curricular school activities and we’ve decided that providing supervision at this time of night isn’t feasible.

“Hold on,” interjects Nicole. “Why wasn’t this discussed at a Prefect meeting? I’m sure we can come up with a better solution. Hell, I’ll supervise the club if I have to.”

“I hardly think that’s a good idea,” replies Willa, eyeing Nicole up and down with a look of mild distaste in her eyes. “I don’t think you can be trusted with any kind of responsibility when Waverly is around.”

Nicole takes half a step closer to Willa and growls, “I am this close to hexing you off the top of this tower myself and the only reason I haven’t done that is because it will prove your stupid point right.

“Have you disbanded any other school clubs this week or just the one that I’m a part of?” Waverly asks to stop the feud between the two older girls from escalating any further, though she already knows the answer to this particular question.

“No other clubs meet in the middle of the night at the top of a dangerously high tower!” Willa argues right back.

Waverly holds her tongue. There’s nothing she can think of to say in response to that. Waverly has to admit, Willa’s argument, as ever, is airtight. Waverly can’t argue the reason that Willa is giving for disbanding the Astronomy Club, even if they both know that it is an outright lie to cover the fact that she just can’t stand to see Waverly be happy.

“Come on, Nicole, let’s go,” says Waverly, making a point to take Nicole’s hand in her own very deliberately so that Willa can’t possibly miss the gesture. “Unless Willa wants to put us in detention for being out after curfew.”

As Waverly makes to leave the tower with Nicole in tow, Willa makes one final remark.

“Don’t tempt me, Waverly.”

#wayhaught #wayhaught fic #waverly earp #nicole haught #wayhaught fanfic #wayhaught hogwarts #hogwarts au

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