#part of the reason i stopped larping is because i now keep an eye out for inhuman predators in the mountains

[jacquihyde]

Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 3: The Only Ones Left In The World

Bernard had his own room at Tim’s apartment, but he had fallen asleep in Tim’s own room the first night that he moved in and hadn’t gone back since. It had gotten to the point that Tim’s bed felt empty without him. 

It was empty now. Bernard was at Gotham University studying while Tim continued to investigate the strange events occurring on campus. Scouring social media had told him that there had been a few more sightings of shadows, strange feelings, even apparitions. At least one person had ended up with a handprint mark like Mikaela’s somewhere on their body.

Tim put a hand to his own neck, imagining it. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. Not leave a lasting scar cold. 

Tim spotted movement at the door and glanced up, seeing Bernard silhouetted in the yellow light spilling out of the hallway. “Hey,” he said.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” Tim said.

Bernard groaned. “I could not do those readings anymore.” He flopped dramatically onto the bed, and Tim tried not to flinch. “What are you up to?”

Tim shuffled over slightly. “You remember the thing with Mikaela?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re looking into that?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Not getting much, though. Have you seen anything weird happening on campus?”

Bernard leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, there were some people LARPing The Princess Bride in front of the library when I was leaving. That was a little strange.”

Tim grinned. “Weird like supernatural weird.”

Bernard shrugged. “I mean, there’s always rumors,” he said. “Some people think there are secret tunnels under the school, but I think that pretty much every college has that rumor. And the frats can get kind of crazy with hazing, they’re always telling stories...oh, speaking of frats.”

“This can’t be good.” 

Bernard laughed. “I got invited to an Omega Chi Omega party on Friday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Weren’t you telling me that Omega Chi Omega is kind of insane?”

“Yeah, and I want to experience it. Come on, it’s college. I like parties.” Bernard leaned closer to Tim. “And I like you.”

Tim sat up straighter. “You said it was rush week,” he said. “Are you pledging?”

“Fuck no,” Bernard said. “But I think it’s funny that I got invited to this party like they thought I was going to.” He shot a questioning glance at Tim’s laptop. “Hey, don’t you usually work downstairs?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m tired.”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

Tim was tired. Among other things. “Yes,” he said. He turned back to his laptop. “Um, do you -”

“Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

Tim knew without having to look that he’d started bleeding again. “Oh,” he said, glancing down anyway. A steadily-growing spot of bright red had appeared on his side, standing out against his light gray shirt. “Um, I was stabbed.”

Bernard was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you were stabbed?”

“Lightly stabbed,” Tim said.

“Oh, lightly stabbed. That’s so much better.” 

“It is, though!” Tim said. “It didn’t hit anything vital. I won’t even need stitches.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Bernard said. “Where do you keep first aid kits, again? I know you have at least twelve stashed around here.”

Tim sighed. He knew when to give up. “There’s one under the bed.” 

Bernard disappeared underneath the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“As you wish,” Tim said. He heard Bernard laugh and couldn’t help but smile. It turned into a pained hiss as he twisted to remove his t-shirt.

“Shit,” Bernard said. “Here, let me…” Tim heard a thunk as he tossed the first aid kit onto the bed, then Bernard’s hands were on his skin, helping him take off the shirt. Tim could feel Bernard’s stare at the wound like it was another scar. “Did you even do anything to treat it?”

“I did!” Tim protested weakly.

“Like what? What did you do?”

“Waited for it to stop bleeding and then tried not to move,” Tim admitted.

Bernard glared at him. “Wrong answer.”

“I promise that it had stopped bleeding,” Tim said. “I don’t know what happened.” Bernard took out his phone, typing something. “What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Googling how to treat a stab wound,” Bernard said.

“Wow,” Tim said. “I’m glad I’m in such safe hands.”

“Sorry that my neuroscience homework didn’t prepare me for treating my boyfriend’s ‘light stab wound’,” Bernard said. “Okay, so this is going to sting a bit.”

Tim braced himself, but still winced at the feeling of antiseptic against his skin. “It’s not that deep,” Bernard said. “And it’s pretty clean, considering...what you do. Who was it, anyway? It wasn’t…”

“It was not one of my brothers,” Tim affirmed. “We’re past that. Um, it was a gang fight that I got in the middle of. Red Hood went after them, B made me go home.” 

“Good,” Bernard said. The cold of the antiseptic was gone, followed by mild pressure. “So you’ve been doing this for how long?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Since I was thirteen,” Tim said. 

“Hm,” Bernard said. “And how many stab wounds have you had?” 

His tone was humorous, but Bernard would have to be a stranger for Tim not to notice the darker tone lurking underneath his words. “Not too many, I promise,” Tim said. 

“I think we might have different definitions of ‘not too many’.” 

Bernard brushed his fingers against another scar on Tim’s abdomen, then another, then another. Tim caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m okay,” he murmured. 

Bernard finally finished applying the bandages and sat back up, his lips just a breath away from Tim’s. “I know you are,” he said softly.

Tim leaned in to kiss him, and they didn’t talk for a while after that.

Apparently Bernard was serious about the frat party. Tim didn’t quite believe him until they were on Gotham U’s campus, standing in front of a brightly lit house. Loud music and laughter spilled out of the open windows and door. It looked like something out of a bad movie. He turned to Bernard to tell him that when suddenly the door slammed open, two guys dashing outside. They stopped short upon seeing Bernard and Tim. “Bernard!” one yelled, then turned to his friend. “This is the guy I was telling you about. You know, my chem lab partner. Super cool.”

“Oh, you’re Bernard,” the other dude said. He was taller, a Gotham University cap sitting sideways on his head. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Chad.” Of course it is, Tim thought. 

“Nice to meet you too. And nice seeing you, Zac,” Bernard said. “Um, this is my boyfriend Tim.”

Zac narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look really familiar.”

“Um,” Tim said. 

“Holy shit, you’re Tim Drake-Wayne,” Chad interrupted. He looked over at Zac. “Did you know he was dating Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Dude, no,” Zac said. “That’s so cool, bro.”

“Um, thanks,” Bernard said. “I think so too. I think we’re going to head inside -”

“Oh!” Chad said. “Before you go in, just make sure to steer clear of the basement. We’ve locked it up for a reason, you know?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “...Okay,” he said. He took Tim’s hand and the two of them headed into the house. They almost immediately met crowds of people — sitting on the stairs, dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen. Bernard had told him that Omega Chi Omega threw some of the biggest parties on campus. Tim definitely believed him. 

“They were interesting,” Tim said.

“Who, Zac and Chad?” Bernard said. “Yeah, sorry about them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim said. “I’m glad I could boost your popularity.”

Bernard laughed. Tim glanced around at the students surrounding them. That could have been me, he thought. If he had never witnessed Dick’s parents’ deaths. If Jason had never gone to Ethiopia. If Tim hadn’t dropped out of Ivy Town U. If, if, if.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bernard asked.

Tim glanced over at him. To be heard, he would either have to yell or get a whisper’s breath away from Bernard. He much preferred the latter. “It’s kind of a lot,” he said. 

He didn’t explain, but he didn’t need to. “Do you want to leave?" Bernard asked. "Because we can. It's no big deal.”

Tim shook his head. “No, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

Bernard smiled. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay.” He wanted to kiss him. It took him a moment to remember that that was something that he could do now, whenever he wanted. And so he did. He felt Bernard’s grin against his lips, his arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They were surrounded by people, and yet Tim felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Tim?”

The illusion disappeared as instantly as it had taken shape. Tim was suddenly aware of the people surrounding him, the loud music and chatter. And there, standing behind him, was Steph. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to see her face. But he knew exactly who she was, exactly where she was. It would be impossible for him not to.

Tim forced himself to turn around, and sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t read her expression. He could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened. The LED lights lining the room faded from blue to purple. Steph would like that, he thought dimly. 

He realized that she was speaking and forced himself to tune back in. “...don’t think we’ve met,” she was saying to Bernard. Tim unconsciously found himself squeezing Bernard’s hand. He wasn’t sure of when he’d taken hold of it. Part of him wanted to let go, but the rest of him knew that he couldn’t.

Bernard squeezed back. “Um, I’m Bernard.”

Steph smiled slightly. “Oh, I remember Tim talking about you! I’m Stephanie.”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You’re real? Back in high school I thought that Tim was making you up.”

Steph laughed, and Tim took advantage of her split second distraction to meet Bernard’s gaze. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what emotion was behind his own eyes — something along the lines of panic, probably — but Bernard got the hint. “Um, I’m going to go get drinks,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Tim shook his head. Bernard squeezed his hand once more and then disappeared into the crowd. Tim turned to Steph, acutely aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to remember some of the grounding techniques that Jaine had taught him. Five things he could see — the purple lights, the car passing by outside the window, the lock on the basement door…

“So are you going to talk, or should I?” Steph said.

Tim wrenched his attention back to her. “I don’t know what to say,” he said weakly. 

Steph shrugged. “I can talk, if you want,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted out.

Steph frowned. “You’re...sorry,” she repeated. “For what?”

“I…” Tim swallowed hard. “You know.”

“Tim.” Steph took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. Seriously.”

“I should have told you.”

Steph shook her head. “You didn’t have to. That was up to you.” She looked off in the direction that Bernard had gone. “I do remember you talking about him in high school, you know,” she said. “You always really liked him.”

“I didn’t know what it was that I was feeling,” Tim said. “I didn’t even register it until...until the whole cult thing.”

Steph let out a breath. “God, of course it was the cult thing. That’s exactly the kind of weird shit you would get into.”

Tim laughed. He could feel the weight sliding off his shoulders as Steph pulled him into a hug. “I did love you, you know,” he whispered. “I still do.”

She held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”

Tim leaned his head against her shoulder, opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the basement door behind her. The door was wide open, the padlock hanging uselessly from the doorknob. He barely had time to register it before the world went black.

He stumbled backwards, pulling away from Steph. She kept a hold on his arm amidst the screams from the other partygoers. “What the hell?” she yelled, her mouth close to his ear. “Did a fuse blow or something?”

Tim tried to scan the room, but his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “I don’t think…”

The LED lights flashed back on — blue, then purple, then pink. There was a shriek coming from somewhere to Tim’s left, not tinged with laughter or exhilaration as the earlier yells had been, but infused with terror. He didn’t have to say a word. Steph was already moving, pulling him with her.

The crowd had grown too thick to easily maneuver through, but the two of them were smaller enough than most of the frat boys that they could form a path. Even then, Tim could only catch fleeting glimpses of the body lying still on the ground, the guy's skin covered in frost and handprints. His eyes were open, but glazed over, unresponsive. 

Tim had barely managed to process the image in front of him before he was hearing more screaming, this time from another corner of the room. He didn’t even have to look to know that there was another comatose body frozen on the floor. 

He turned to Steph. “Get everyone out,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “What about you?”

“I need to check something out,” he said. 

“So you’re going to go towards whatever’s causing this?” she said. “Tim Drake, you would be the first to die in a horror movie.”

“I know,” Tim said. Without another word he moved away, shoving through the crowd towards the basement door. Everyone was too distracted to notice him approaching the forbidden location. Some were still gathered around the bodies, but most had figured out that escape was their best option. 

“Tim!” 

Tim turned away from the door, and there was Bernard, barely visible through the fleeing crowds. He made eye contact with him, feeling the screaming, the running footsteps, the heat of the crowd surrounding them fade away. The only ones left in the world. 

Tim stepped backwards, closing the basement door behind him. The last thing he saw was Bernard’s stricken face, a word that Tim never got to hear still hanging on his lips.

It was even darker in the basement. Windows lined the tops of the walls, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside stream in. Tim kept a hand on the wall as he carefully navigated the stairs. It looked like the room hadn’t been renovated, or even cleaned, in decades. Tim could just barely make out the faded posters lining the room, and, surrounding them, the graffiti. It looked as if everyone who had ever been a part of Omega Chi Omega had signed these walls. Some deep-set instinct told Tim to stop touching them. 

The only furniture was the shelves lining the walls. They were little more than worn-out planks of wood, looking as though they were going to give out at any moment. Most of them were unused, with only a few places throughout the room, seemingly random, having objects placed upon them. He approached the closest, a folded-up Gotham University Nighthawks jersey. He could just barely make out a name and a number — Rivers, 11. Amidst the scramble of words written on the wall, Tim could read one in particular, written deliberately above where the jersey was lying. “Logan Rivers, 2024,” he murmured aloud.

He made his way around the room, investigating each shelf. There was a black ring (David Choi, 2009), a faded and empty journal (Jamie Collins, 1978), a torn red tie (Alec Samuel, 1994). Tim wondered idly if it was some kind of hall of fame or something. It obviously wasn’t just anyone who got to leave an artifact down here.

At the far end of the room, there was a silver locket, so small and unassuming that Tim almost completely missed it. “Sam Kingston, 1985,” he read. His hand hovered above the locket, but he didn’t touch it. Something felt sacred about it, too personal for him to see.

There was a creak from the stairs, and Tim whirled around, his hand flying to his waist for a weapon that didn’t exist. One of the bros — Chad — was standing in the shadows engulfing the last stair. “Hey,” Tim said. “Sorry, I know you said not to come down here, but I got kind of pushed down in the whole chaos upstairs. I’ll leave.”

Chad said nothing, just continued to stare at him. Tim’s heart leaped into his throat. “Chad?”

Tim didn’t even see him move. One moment Chad was on the stairs, the next he was leaping at him, hands outstretched. Tim barely managed to leap aside, and even then, Chad was close enough for him to feel the cold wafting off of his skin. “Shit,” Tim whispered as Chad turned back around to face him. His skin had gone pale, and Tim could see the edges of a frost-encrusted handprint peering out of his collar. “Chad, this isn’t you.”

Chad charged him again. Tim drove him back with an elbow to the stomach, jumping out of the way of his hands. He had no clue how this thing spread, but he could tell that it wasn’t anything he wanted to take any chances on. It affects different people in different ways, he thought, shoving Chad back again. Chad’s back hit the shelves and he stumbled as the wood gave a dangerous creak. Mikaela was fine, just shaken. The people outside were knocked out. Chad… It was like he was possessed. He was faster than before. Much stronger than he should have been. And there was nothing, nothing at all, left behind his eyes.

Tim ran for the stairs. He knew that Chad was right behind him, but if he timed it right…

He vaulted over the railing. Chad was going too fast to stop himself and slammed right into it. Tim watched as he took one step, then two, then collapsed onto the ground, his soulless eyes slowly shutting. 

Tim jumped down off of the stairs, approaching Chad as quietly as possible. The color was slowly returning to his skin, but the handprint still stood out, stark-white and frozen. He could see the fight going out of him. Hopefully, he would be back to normal, if a little disoriented, by the time he woke up.

Tim maneuvered out of one of the basement windows, just wide enough for him to fit through. Someone had called the cops, and the outside of the frat house was bathed in red and blue light. Tim slipped past the crowds onto the sidewalk, away from where the officers were roaming. 

“Tim!” 

He whirled around, and there was Bernard, getting to his feet from where he was sitting on the curb. Tim rushed over to him. “What the hell happened in there?” Bernard asked. 

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was like what happened to Mikaela, but on a whole other level.” He glanced around. “Where did Steph go?”

“She was talking to the cops, last I saw her,” Bernard said. His voice dropped lower. “You didn’t tell me that you dated Spoiler.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Bernard said. “I figured it out.”

Tim wished he could go back in time and tell his thirteen-year-old self all about the guy he would eventually end up dating. “Well. You were right,” he said. 

Bernard laughed, but it seemed subdued. Tim reached out, grasping his hand again. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Bernard nodded. “Yeah. It’s just kind of hitting me that I’m dating a vigilante. When you went down to the basement...it kind of freaked me out. Same as when you got stabbed the other day. Not only because I don’t want you to get hurt, but because…” He stopped suddenly. “This is stupid.”

Tim shook his head. “No, what is it?” 

Bernard sighed. “I’m just never going to really know that part of your life, am I?” Tim stared at him, and Bernard begrudgingly continued. “It’s like...you looked right at me after everything went crazy tonight. And you didn’t say anything, you just ran right into danger without saying a word. And the whole stabbing thing, you were going to hide that from me. And I get it. I really do. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Tim swallowed hard. “I’m…” he started to say.

Bernard cut him off. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad. It was just a weird night and everything’s kind of hitting me all at once.” He looked up over Tim’s head at the dispersing crowds behind them. “We should head home. I don’t want to get caught up in whatever happens here next.”

Tim couldn’t get Bernard’s words out of his head. He couldn’t tell what Bernard was thinking either, and it haunted him, running as a constant undercurrent in his mind. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and of course that someone ended up being Jaine.

“You have something to say,” she told him. She couldn’t even see his face — she was at her desk while Tim was turned away from her, giving Batman the axolotl bite-sized pieces of earthworm. “I can always tell with you.”

Tim nodded. “Something happened the other day,” he said, pushing past the reluctance. Batman finished the last piece of earthworm and turned to look at him with unblinking eyes. “That’s all I’ve got,” Tim told him. Batman, predictably, did not respond.

“Was it a Robin thing or a Tim Drake thing?” Jaine asked.

“Sort of both.” Tim sat back down. “Bernard and I were at this party…” He slowly told her about the Omega Chi Omega incident, from the moment that Steph caught him and Bernard to their conversation after Tim left the basement. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he finished quietly, barely able to be heard over Batman’s filter bubbling. 

Jaine nodded. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

“Maybe not guilty,” Tim said. “Except…” He sighed. “I want him to be a part of my life,” he said. “Every bit of it. Even the darker parts. But I don’t know how to do that.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jaine asked. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both,” Tim said. “I think. I don’t really know how to define it. I’m just not used to opening up to people like that. Even if I want to, the words get stuck in my throat. And mixing that with what I’m letting him into…”

Jaine nodded. “It’s hard,” she said. “He knows Tim, and he knows Robin. But knowing both, that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Different. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible.” 

“But you know that it is,” Jaine pointed out. “And he’d tell you that too.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That and a million other things.” 

“So what are you going to tell him?” Jaine asked. 

Tim thought about it, and then spoke.

At the end of the night, Robin was perched on his own windowsill, peering in through the window. Bernard was in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Light streamed in from the hallway behind him, making him look as if he was made of gold. Tim knocked on the window lightly and Bernard glanced up. He smiled slightly when he saw Tim outside, getting up to unlock the window.

“This is a surprise,” Bernard said as he slid the window open. “There’s a perfectly good entrance downstairs.”

“I needed to talk to you,” Tim said. “And I didn’t want to wait.” Bernard frowned, and Tim instantly felt guilty. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just about the other day at the party.”

“Oh,” Bernard said. “I told you, I’m not mad about it -”

“I know you’re not,” Tim said. “There are just some things that I want to say.” 

Bernard nodded. “Okay,” he said. Tim was silent, and Bernard raised his eyebrows. “So are you going to talk, or…”

“I am, I just...ugh. I literally rehearsed this. Why is it so hard?” 

“You rehearsed it?” Bernard repeated.

“I don’t want to get this wrong,” Tim said. “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

Bernard nodded. “Like, dating a guy?”

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It’s not just about that. I’ve never dated someone who knows about every side of me who isn’t a vigilante themselves. And I want to say that that’s why I instinctively want to hide things from you. It’s not like the ‘because I love you’ thing -” He realized what he had said and cut himself off, his cheeks flushing bright red. Bernard stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Tim forced himself to keep talking. “That’s not what I want it to be like. But I do want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, not again, not ever. But that’s...that’s not the whole truth. I don’t really know how to open up. I’m trying to learn how, but it’s never been something that I’ve ever been good at, not ever. And you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Bernard stepped closer to him. When he spoke, their lips almost brushed together. “You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that,” Tim replied. “I’m just not great at making myself believe it.”

“You’re getting better,” Bernard said. “You’re talking to me now, right?” He reached up, his hands framing the sides of Tim’s face. “Can I?” he said. Tim nodded, and Bernard gently peeled the mask away from Tim’s eyes. He leaned forwards, their foreheads brushing together.

“What was that for?” Tim asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Bernard said. He moved just enough for their lips to brush together, then pulled away. “I love you too, you know,” he whispered. 

Tim moved his hands up to cover Bernard’s. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bernard’s brows knit together. “For...”

Tim shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say about Bernard, so many words that he could say, and yet his mind kept coming up blank. “Just for existing,” he finally said. It was the closest he could come to containing it all.

[exovapor]

The Adventure - TMNT Bitches:  Chapter 6

(Reminder, this story has been I the works since early July so any recent changes aren't in here...but I promise to make it up to my two loves not present)

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CHAPTER 6:   Crossing Paths

·         It is here! It is FINALLY HERE!  Valerie can barely contain her excitement as she drives through the semi-familiar streets of the city she hates, except for one weekend out of the year, Dragon Con weekend!

·         It is Thursday, the official start of Dragon Con, or ‘con’ or ‘DC’, as it’s fans often referred to it as.  Dragon Con is the largest comic book/sci-fi/fantasy/horror/cosplay convention on the east coast and it happens every Labor Day weekend in Atlanta, GA.  

·         DC is always a cause for excitement for Valerie; however, this year is extra special!  Not only is she going to con, which is always the highlight of her year, but this time she is meeting up with some VERY special ladies that have helped her explore the fandom world of TMNT and who have become very close, dear, cherished friends.  

·         While everyone from their close knit group couldn’t make it this year, Lucy living in the UK and Kyla having prior commitments, she is still going to get to finally meet and hug the extraordinary talented fandom writers Holly, Kassie, and Kari!  Life just can’t be better!  

·         Well…maybe it could if TMNT actually existed…but…she couldn’t complain too much because these special ladies can bring the guys to life almost like no other person can!

·         Valerie’s tummy twists and tumbles as she pulls into the familiar parking deck just one block away from one of the main hotels to host the convention, the Marriott of Atlanta.  Valerie is antsy and anxious!  

·         She just wants to park, grab her suitcases and rush in to the hotel to join the other three women, whom have flown and driven into Atlanta from other parts of the US, and start their 4 day long party!  

·         As she rounds through the parking deck she’s not finding any available spots on the first few levels, looks like it’s going to be another crowded year at con!  As she driving up into the open air of the top level, she’s hoping to find one spot left or she’ll have to drive further away and she really hates navigating Atlanta’s one-way streets.  She may be from Georgia, but she detests Atlanta’s crazy crowded maze with a passion.  

·         Valerie is so focused on finding that one elusive empty parking spot that she isn’t fully aware of her surroundings.  As she rounds the corner of one row of cars, and angles to turn up the next aisle, her heart drops to her feet and she slams on the breaks in her SUV trying not to flatten the four MORONS standing in the middle of the driving lane.  

·         Cussing like a sailor, laying down on the horn, and hoping to all that is holy that the silver, 4,000lb, vehicle will stop in time to not kill the guys playing some form of LARP game in the middle of the parking deck.

·         Her ire flares like a campfire doused with kerosene!  

·         She was riding a high of anticipated fun bit now is jerked down to earth with a body-slam!  What the HELL are these guys thinking??

·         Sure, pretty much all types come out at con, the gamers, the goths, the cosplayers, the kinks, the through and through nerds/geeks, and even the LARPers…but JEEZ GUYS…don’t do it in the middle of the roadway!

·         Four sets of shocked eyes stare back at her from the middle of the lane.  And they just stand there…not moving!  She throws her hands up in the air and says out loud in the car, “What?!!  Don’t just stare at me like that!  Fucking move!”.  

·         Valerie starts shooing them out of the way with hand signals and they slowly back out of the way.  If she weren’t in such a tizzy and pissed off, at nearly being indicted for vehicular man-slaughter, she may have noticed and admired the handsome quartet.  After all, most LARPers don’t have bodies like these...muscles busting clothes at the seams and height on all of them; no, most LARPers looked like mommy still did their laundry for them and feed them too many Hot Pockets.

·         As she pulls up next to them, she lets down her window and growls out in her southern-ass-whoopin’-accent, “What the HELL do you think you are doing?  You idiots, stay out of the road!”.  Two sets of baby blue eyes, a set of emerald green, and a set of amber-green hazel stare at her dumbfounded and silent.  She doesn’t give the stunned group enough time to respond before she rolls up her window and drives on up the aisle and parks half-way up.

·         She sits in her front seat fuming, trying desperately to regain her composure.  She talks to herself, a normal thing out of habit, “Val, let it go.  Just let it go.  Forget about it, you are about to meet your wonder ladies in person and y’all are about to bring Atlanta to it’s knees over the next four days.  Ommmmmm…..(yoga centering…zen baby zen)…let it go.”.

·         Finally, feeling SLIGHTLY less murderous, she steps out of her truck and moves to the back and lifts the hatch to retrieve her suitcase.  She has most of her costumes and items packed in bags and her rolling suitcase; however, the katanas for her Leonardo costume would not fit in any of the bags, so she slings the holster, with the twin sheathed blades crisscrossed, onto her back.  She straps her green turtle-shell backpack onto the extended handle of her rolling suitcase, she locks up her truck and starts rolling her suitcase down the aisle head towards the parking deck staircase.

·         As she gets close to the end of the car aisle, she can see the LARPing quartet still standing where she left them.  ‘Ugh, morons’, she thinks to herself.

·         As she walks past, the quiet conversation they were having suddenly stops and they all stare at her with mild confusion, amusement, and interest.  Valerie isn’t one to accept blatant staring.  She doesn’t like to be ‘seen’.  She is the wall-flower type, the one who likes to stand in the back.  She’s the Observer, not the Observee…so she becomes irked by their stares and stops and faces them, “WHAT?!!”, she asks staring challengingly back at them.

·         No answer comes from the quiet group, just four sets of eyes staring at her in…what is that? Shock?  Amusement? Their expressions are such a mixture that she can’t quite pin-point the expressions playing across their handsome faces.  

·         So she stands there, with the blue tendrils from the hilts of her katanas whipping in the wind, staring back at them.  

·         One set of eyes stares with more intensity than the others.  They are discerningly more intense; like they are searching, evaluating, noting qualities and vulnerabilities.  It makes her uneasy.  However, she isn’t one to show a predator weakness, no matter what they threaten her with, so she stares back just as intently, refusing to turn her back on them.

·         In staring, Valerie becomes acutely aware of their size.  These guys are all tall, two of them VERY tall, and all of them are well built.  Actually, one of them is a fucking monster.  Forget eating his Wheaties for breakfast; that red haired one looks like he ate the whole damn Wheaties truck, tires and all! This would not turn out well if they decided attacking the alone girl in the parking deck was more fun than LARPing in the parking deck.  

·         Valerie wants to get to the safety of the crowds below, but she doesn’t feel safe retreating into a closed stairwell with these guys fixated on her presence.

·         ‘Maybe yelling at them earlier wasn’t the best idea, me and my temper…shit!  What are they talking about and WHY does that one keep staring at me so hard?  Jeez, dude, get your own life and stop trying the stare me out of mine’, she thinks to herself.  

·         The staring match goes on for an uncomfortably long time, finally they start to move backward as a group, putting more space between her and them.  

·         Just as Valerie is starting to consider how fast she can out run all four of them, another car, searching for its own elusive parking spot, comes rolling through the driving lane.  Thankful for the distraction, the active presence of witnesses, and a reason to move on, Valerie leaves the LARPing group watching her rolling her suitcase towards the stairwell.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @nittleboo @kokokatsworld @the-second-circle-of-shell

[1899-newsboy-strike]

Opposite Ties - Charlie Bradbury Imagine

Warning: spoilers (somewhere in season 7 and on), mentions of death, small mention of blood, nightmares, sad reader

Summary: After Charlie’s death you hadn’t been the same, and when an all too familiar face comes around you don’t know how to feel.

———————————–

It had been years since you’d lost Charlie, but every night you were taunted by the reminder of how she looked bloodied in the bathtub of the motel. Part of you blamed Sam at first, but now you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had gotten better over the years, but the first time you met Charlie from the apocalypse world your nightmares had started again. You wouldn’t forget the shock you’d felt the first time you saw her. 

You hadn’t been allowed to go to apocalypse world with the boys, so when everyone came back to stay in the bunker you had to prepare yourself for someone who looked like Bobby but wasn’t Bobby, but nothing could prepare you for someone who looked like your dead girlfriend.  You’d been stopped dead in your tracks at the first glance of her. You could almost kill the boys for not giving any warning about her. Charlie had been just as surprised as you, but you didn’t know why until you’d gotten to know her. 

“Y/N!” Sam called out from the other side of your door, but you ignored him only being able to focus on the memories you’d had with your dead girlfriend. You hadn’t heard your door open, jerking away when you felt a hand on you. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.” Sam apologized, but you couldn’t help but scoff. 

“My dead girlfriend Sam, dead. Because of you, I might add, and you didn’t think to tell me you were bringing someone who looked exactly like her here?!” You exclaimed ignoring the tears that had been blurring your vision. “I had to see her! I loved her since the moment I met her and I had to see her lying dead in a motel bathtub because of your stupid decisions!” You explained shoving him away from you. It seemed that had been all you needed to do, immediately calming down after you shoved Sam. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said-” You started but he cut you off.

“Hey, I deserved it okay? You can’t stay in your room forever, and you can’t avoid her forever since she kind of lives here now.” Sam gave you a small smile before pulling you in for a tight hug. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I know how much you cared about her.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him.You’d tossed and turned that night, not falling asleep until your body finally shut down.

Your heart was racing, you hadn’t even let Dean drive his own car. He didn’t dare tell you to slow down, your foot almost breaking the gas pedal at how hard you’d been pushing down on it. You flew into the parking lot of the motel, leaving the car running and the brothers in the car while you ran straight to Charlie’s room. Part of you knew there was no reason to, but you called out for her in hopes for a response. When you rounded the corner into the restroom your heart stopped. Your girlfriend was laying lifeless in the bathtub, blood all over the restroom. Your knees buckled beneath you, everything you’d had for the past three years taken from you in the matter of minutes. 

“Charlie?” You whispered, crawling over to her, the want for her to be okay overpowering everything else. “Charlie! Please, wake up. You’re okay, please.” You begged, grabbing her. “Charlie!” You cried out before everything went dark.You’d woken up with a start, scrambling back until your back hit the wall. Charlie was sat in front of you, and you had forgotten about everything from the day before. “Get away from me.” You begged, scrambling off your bed to distance yourself from her.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come in, but I heard you screaming and it reminded me of her… or I guess you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlie explained, everything from before finally coming back to you. “I’ll just leave you to it.” She smiled softly, making her way toward the door.

“Her who?” You asked softly, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I had a girlfriend, she looked just like you. I guess it was you, but over there. She died when I wasn’t there to protect her. I heard you screaming, and it was just an instinct I guess.” Charlie explained, both of you sitting on your bed, not daring to sit anywhere near each other. “Why were you calling out for me? Or I guess your Charlie.” She asked, making you stiffen.

“I wasn’t there for her either. I couldn’t save her, I was supposed to be there for her.” You explained, your voice shaky. “I think you should go now.” You whispered, giving her a quick glance before looking away. “I just can’t see her face, or I have to get used to you being here, I’m sorry.” You explained, not looking until you finally heard your bedroom door close.

It took less time than you thought for you to get used to the new Charlie. You’d been used to seeing her every morning, and now you were going on a hunt with her and Sam. You knew you had to get used to her voice at some point, and you wanted it to be sooner than later. The time you spent getting ready to head out for the hunt was you trying to mentally prepare yourself for being in a car with Charlie, the only thing keeping you sane was knowing Sam would be there with you.

The whole time you were in the car you tried not to look at her, not saying a word while you listened to her and Sam talk about the case she’d found. You stared at the things outside, anything to distract you from the people in the car you were in. You’d even counted almost all the visible leaves on the bushes that were next to you. Your eyes seemed to wander, admiring the girl in the driver’s seat without your knowledge. Charlie seemed to feel you staring, giving you a quick glance that made you finally realize you’d been staring, making you turn your head back to looking outside the window. Your attention was brought to the two in the front when Sam brought up your Charlie, but it wasn’t until Charlie brought up you, or her you, that you finally paid full attention to her for the first time since she was there.

“When I met Y/N, she owned a bakery outside of Chicago. Cupcakes. It was like something out of a storybook. She always smelled like peaches, and her smile was just...” Charlie started to explain, and you couldn’t help push the door open to get away from hearing the rest of the story. You sat on the ground, leaning against the car, closing your eyes before you rested your head back against the metal. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your Charlie, and that technically she was talking about you, but with her voice and the mere thought of your Charlie being happy with anyone else made it too much to handle.

“Hey.” You heard the familiar voice above you making you jump and open your eyes. “You left, I thought I’d check on you.” Charlie smiled down at you making you nod slightly. She slowly sat down next to you, both of you being closer than you’d been since you first met. 

“I’m sorry I left before you finished. I know it sounds weird, but to hear her voice say she was happy with someone else.” You shook your head, looking down at your lap. “C-can you tell me the rest? I guess I should get used to it right?” You laughed softly, earning a small smile from Charlie before she nodded.

“Michael and Lucifer, when they started their war, first thing, a giant EMP or something like it went off over North America. Fried every bit of technology. Cellphones, power plants.” She started, seeming to avoid looking at you. “For the first few days, we banded together. Thought ‘hey, someone’ll save us’. No one ever did. When the food ran out, people got mean. Mobs started forming, stealing whatever they could get their hands on. A lot of people died. Y/N died.” She continued, sniffing while she tried to hold back tears. 

“I’m sorry.” You explained softly, instinctively placing your hand on her knee. “Sorry.” You apologized, quickly moving your hand away when you realized you were probably overstepping.

“Um, tell me about her. C-charlie.” She explained, fumbling over her own name.

“Oh, Charlie.” You smiled at the thought of her. “She was great. Working at the same place you were. She wasn’t ever supposed to get into any of this. Then again, who is.” You started, shaking your head. “She was the perfect girl. Nerdy, all about her video games and LARPing. I never really got into it, but I sure did love hearing her talk about it. The big smile on her face when she got lost in it, the twinkle in her eye that could make you melt.” You smiled, Charlie cutting you off before you could start again.

“Now I know how you felt when I was talking in the car.” She laughed slightly, making you look over at her. “But finish, I have to get used to you too right?” She smiled, making you nod.

“She was there whenever we needed her. She was the smartest girl I’ve ever met, getting us the information we needed probably twice as fast as we could. Charlie did too much for us. Helped Sam fix Dean, but it wasn’t worth it. She sacrificed herself just for us. We were like family and I- I had to find her dead. I’ll never forget how she looked laying there. I should have been there to stop anything from happening. I wasn’t good enough for her, I couldn’t even protect her when she needed me the most. It was my fault she died, you know? And I have to see her, every night.” You whispered, the tear finally falling down your cheek.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Charlie explained, reaching over, her thumb running across your cheek to wipe away the tear. Your eyes fluttered closed and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into her touch. It felt all too familiar, and the tears started to pour faster than you could stop them. “I’m sure she loved you.” She smiled at you when you opened your eyes again. 

You let out a gasp at how close Charlie was to you. Your eyes flickered to her lips and back up, hers doing the same. You both leaned in, your eyes closing, your noses brushing against each other’s before your lips met in the middle. You let out a small whimper, her lips feeling just like the ones you used to know. You hadn’t felt this way in over three years, your hand coming up to hold her face. The empty feeling you’d felt for years seemed to be filled by one kiss. Before the kiss could escalate any further Sam opened the door to the car making you both jump apart.

“Hey-” Sam started, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of the both of you. “Uh, we should get going.” He explained, both of you standing up, wiping yourselves off before you got back in the car. You couldn’t help the blush on your face as you looked out the window. You touched your lips slightly, smiling before you caught Charlie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, both of you looking your separate ways, not daring to talk about anything in front of Sam.

[zacharyleigh316]

Radio Silence

Here’s a little Destiel (au) ficlet inspired by this post. I wasn’t initially sure whether I was going to make this or not (due to lack of motivation, etc.) but here it is! So @mychemicalobsession514 and @fandomtrash2405 this one is for you. Hope you enjoy!

Dean loved being a cop. It was everything he hoped it would be and then some. There wasn’t one thing he hated about his job; he got to protect people, save lives, uphold the law (most of the time), and work with amazing professionals, most of whom did what he did for the same reasons, all while putting the bad people away. Being a cop made him feel good. Knowing that what he was doing everyday, what he was getting paid to do everyday, but more importantly what he chose to do everyday, made a difference in the world, was extremely fulfilling. Even if only slightly, and the world was better off for it? So yeah, he loved his job.

Though, given the most recent events, he might have to re-evaluate that statement.

“Mornin’ brotha’.” Came Benny’s Louisiana drawl from the coffee station. “Chief wants to see you, in his office when you get the chance.”

Dean nodded, making himself a cup of coffee, black, as usual. (Even though he didn’t quite understand why any of the officers continued to get their coffee from the station, including him, seeing as it tasted like absolute shit all the time.)

He looked over to his partner and raised a brow, Benny looking like the cat who caught the freakin’ canary, “What’s got you lookin’ all smug? I’m not getting reassigned are something, am I?”

“Oh no, nothin’ like that Dean. Besides, that wouldn’t be desirable for any of us.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you got that stupid look on your face.” Benny just chuckled, tossing his empty cup into the trash.

He slapped Dean on the shoulder when he passed, and paused, meeting his eyes with a shit eating grin. “Just wanted you to know that I love you too brotha.”

Dean brows furrowed in confusion, watching Benny’s retreating back just as clueless as before. Not that he minded Benny’s terms of endearment; the guy was not only his partner but basically his best friend. He was comfortable enough with himself and his sexuality to actually quite enjoy being affectionate with his friends. So it wasn’t as if that was the weird part.

No, what was weird was all the smirking and the chuckling, as if Benny was enjoying some one-sided inside joke that only he was privy to. In fact, now that he thought about it, everybody else was being weird too.

Dean winced at the piss poor excuse for coffee when he took a sip, and made his way over to Chief Singer’s office. He was just about to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open, and Dean was being accosted by one of Garth’s hugs.

“I love you too Dean. Never forget that. I know I won’t. It made my day. Thank you.” Garth gave Dean a squeeze before pulling away, the latter more confused then ever.

Garth held onto Dean’s shoulders for a moment after the hug, just smiling at him, and though he admit he didn’t mind open affection, Garth had this way over overstepping boundaries that sometimes Dean wasn’t aware of.

“Uh, Garth, buddy? Mind stepping back now?”

“Of course Dean. You’re a good man.” He nodded, more so to himself than to Dean, and walked away with a skip in his step.

Dean shook his head and knocked on the doorway, stepping into the office at Bobby’s gruff, mumbled “come in”.

“What a weird guy.” He said in disbelief, chuckling at Bobby’s snort of affirmation.

“Anyway, you said you wanted to see me?”

“I did. Take a seat boy, we gotta talk.”

Dread immediately consumed Dean, his head already rapidly flitting through a million ways to say sorry about hundreds of possible scenarios of shit that he may or may not have done, when Bobby rolled his eyes.

“You can stop that right now, ya’ idjit, you’re not in trouble or anything.” He relaxed, and the Chief shook his head.

“Remember, you can’t hide nothin’ from me boy, I may be your boss, but I’m also like your daddy.” Dean raised a brow, curious as to where this was going.

“With that being said, I hope you know that even though I don’t say it as often as I probably should, I do love you. You and your brother.”

“Me more though right?” Bobby shot him an unimpressed look.

“Right sorry, I love you too, and all that. But seriously Bobby, where is all this coming from? Not that knowing everybody here loves me is a bad thing, but why are you all saying it all of the sudden?”

“You tellin’ me that you don’t know?” Dean shook his head.

“Obviously not. I wouldn’t have asked you if I did, old man.”

“Watch yourself boy,” Chief Singer said fondly, “I’m not against hitting you. That or firin’ your ass.”

“Yeah yeah. Both you and I know you’re just talk.” He smirked at Bobby’s responding huff, and leaned back against his chair.

“So you were saying?”

“Right. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing when this happens, but your radio codes in from time to time, before you come in, and you’re always saying that you love us.”

Dean both paled and somehow colored simultaneously. “Wh-what?”

“Which is why I was saying earlier, or attempting to say rather, that I uh...love you too of course, but the radio ain’t for that, son.”

“Oh my god.”

“What? You look like your trying to pass a kidney stone.”

“Are you freaking serious? You gotta be joking with me, right?”

“Why in the hell would I joke about something like that?” The Chief glared, at Dean, who ran a hand through his hair, and dragged it down his face.

“You okay? It ain’t that big of a deal, Dean. That’s why I’m letting you know now.”

“Oh my god.”

“There something you wanna say?”

“Even if there was, Bobby, I’m too humiliated and embarrassed to even...god, I’m a dumb ass.”

“Okay, well, I’m sure that it ain’t that bad. You have a tendency to over exaggerate, princess.”

“Oh no, Bobby, I’m pretty sure it is that bad. I mean, how is radioing ‘I love you’ out to the whole precinct not that bad? This takes the cake on just the level of bad it is.

“At least this explains why everyone was being spontaneously openly affectionate today.” Dean sighed, burying his face in his hands.

“Minus Garth. He’s always like that.”

Bobby chuckled, “I’m gonna take a gander and say, judging by your reaction, that this wasn’t intentional.”

“Christ, of course it wasn’t!” Dean flailed. “I wouldn’t friggin use my radio for that! Hell, I probably wouldn’t even say it in person unless they said it first.”

“Well, you seem to know exactly why this has been happening.” Bobby raised a brow. “Do you?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Care to explain?” Bobby prompted, when Dean didn’t elaborate.

“Not really no.”

“Fine then, you’re dismissed. Keep your secrets boy. I’ll find them out eventually. And just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Sure thing, sir.”

With that, and a nod from the chief, Dean left Bobby’s office and went to work, which, to no surprise (Dean was very rarely ever that lucky), sought out to personally torture him for the entirety of the day.

Officer Jody Mills and her partner Officer Donna Hanscum called in during lunchtime to profess their love for him, which okay maybe wasn’t so bad, because he did love them back, enjoyed their company immensely, and thought of them as surrogate mothers. Then Charlie, the computer tech, and regretfully also one of his best friends, personally came to his desk, dragging the other tech, Kevin, along, to talk about LARPing, and comics, and game night, and just as Dean relaxed, when they got off their break, the redheaded monster that was his Queen expressed her strong platonic love for him, letting him know he was safe from no one.

When the day was finally over (it hadn’t even been that exhausting, but when every single person you work with takes the time out of their own day to tease you because of one little colossal mistake—that you may or not have made—it begins to take its toll on you) Dean couldn’t wait to get home. He was starting to regret not only his choice of career, but also ever being excited to work with his friends.

He packed up quickly and clocked out, letting out a sigh at the prospect of home. Though, of course the day wouldn’t be over without one final ‘I love you’ from another coworker.

“Didn’t want to you leave with saying I love you, man. Stay safe out there, honey.” Dean snorted, snapping a glare at Detective Henriksen.

“Very funny, Victor. Go fuck yourself.” Victor laughed, and Dean flipped him off on his way out, making the detective laugh harder.

“Whatever you say, darling!”

Dean rushed out of the police station, never more grateful to see his beloved impala waiting for him in the parking lot. At least she couldn’t tell him she loved him, thought he didn’t mind that it was certainly implied.

Yeah, he hated work.

Dean pulled into the doorway shortly after, ready to put the whole day behind him, forget about it all with a nice, cold beer and some television.

He pat Baby’s hood as he got out, and gave the same treatment to the golden Lincoln Continental parked beside her, when he passed it on the way to the front door.

“Dean.” Cas peeked his head out of his office with a smile on his face, and met Dean at the door.

“You’re home, how was work?” He went in for a hug, before being stopped by Dean’s hand on his chest.

His brows furrowed, and watched questioningly as Dean went and switched his radio off.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine. Just, the last time we hugged, your shoulder must of hit my radio and it called dispatch.” Cas’ eyes widened in surprise.

“So basically the entire precinct, meaning every officer on duty, heard me say I love you when I left the other day. I didn’t even know until I got into work this morning, and everybody started tell me they loved me.”

Castiel’s eyes widened further before a smile broke out onto his face again, and he started laughing.

“Yeah, laugh it up sweetheart. But I would be nice to the person who cooks for you and makes sure you eat.”

“I’m sorry Dean. Work must of been interesting.”

“Tell me about it. So now whenever we hug, I’m going to make sure my radio is off. Who knows what else they may have heard.” His boyfriend rolled his eyes and opened his arms expectantly.

“Well now that it is, may I get my hug now, you drama queen?” Dean snorted, choosing not to think about how Cas sounded both like his brother and Bobby just then, and instead gathered him up into his arms for a hug.

Dean gave Castiel a squeeze, and pulled away slightly, smiling down at his boyfriend. “You’re so needy. Like a pet.”

“Mm, love you too.” Dean chuckled, and joined their lips, bringing Cas closer by his hips.

He hums into Dean’s mouth, and reaches up to cup his face in his hands. (Yeah, Dean prays to anything and anyone who’ll listen that his work buddies didn’t hear something like this).

And then, of course, (once again showing just how unlucky he was) his phone decided to ring, making Cas pull away. Dean whined, and pulled his phone from his back pocket, answering it in the hopes he could will the person who called to hang right back up, just by the sheer amount of glaring at it he did. Cas rolled his eyes, but hey, Dean really didn’t feel like being interrupted at the moment.

“What?” He snapped, holding the phone up to his ear. “This better be pretty friggin’ important Sammy. You better be dying or some shit, or I’m gonna kill you myself, bitch.”

“Jeez, Bobby said you would be home, jerk, so I assumed you wouldn’t be busy. I wanted to call you now rather than later. Guess I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you were wrong, now what do you want?”

“Just wanted to jump on the bandwagon, and send you some appreciation is all Dean, relax.” He could hear Sam’s bitch face through the phone.

“What?”

“Well you’re my brother, and you’ve done a lot...you do a lot, yet I don’t say this often when I probably should so I-“

“No. Nope. You were not just about to tell me you loved me!” Cas chuckled silently to himself, and smirked up at Dean, who was having another meltdown.

“Wha-Dean what’s so bad-“

“No Sammy. Do not say that to me! Seriously dude, I’m freakin serious. After all the people telling me that today, I don’t want to hear another person say those words in the context of me for a week! Actually make that two.”

“Christ alright. No need to be so anal about it. I guess I’ll talk to you later then.” Dean sighed, and visibly relaxed, ignoring his boyfriend smug expression.

“That goes for you too you ass hat.”

Castiel snorted, now ignoring Dean. “Bye Sam!”

“Bye Cas.” Dean glared at their easy rapport, as if nothing was wrong. “Tell Dean to stop being grumpy.”

“Will do.”

“Well he’s still right here, and currently wishing his Sasquatch of a brother would hang up already.”

“Whatever you say, Dean. Love you!” Sam hung up quickly after that, leaving Dean to stare at his phone dumbfounded.

“Son of a bitch!”

[twonewkidsonesouthpark]

Chapter 3: A Class Act

So let me get this straight; we moved in during the most intensive, town wide, elementary school LARP session the world has ever known, you’re all fighting over a goddamn TREE BRANCH, and all of you seem to think that me and my sister are the same person. Oh, and also boys, point for mom and dad, I guess. Have I covered all of the craziness happening here or am I missing something?

Lynnea knew she wasn’t going to get an answer -- Kyle seemed like a nice enough kid, besides the whole ‘quasi-abducting her under false assumptions’ thing, but Alyssa was the only person who she could really ever communicate with. Came with the twin territory, she supposed. Or just being raised in the same weird way.

“So? Will you join us?”

Part of Lynn wanted to say no, wanted to just go home and finish unpacking and not get involved in this mess… but Kyle sounded so damn hopeful and…

...when was the last time she ever got to have fun like this? As her, not her-pretending-to-be-Lyssie-pretending-to-be-the-same-person. And... well, dad DID tell them to make friends…

Fuck it. For once in their lives, she was doing something she wanted to do.

Lynnea nodded.

Kyle grinned, “Awesome! Okay, so first things first, you can choose from a few classes,” Kyle told her, leading her over to the well labeled shop, “You can be a ranger like Stan, a warrior, a mage, a healer… you can’t be a Bard unless you know how to play an instrument, that’s why Jimmy’s the only one.”

Well, that’s right out then unless being able to play a really shitty recorder counts. Go back to that healer class, can I heal AND hit things or is it just one or the other? She picked up the healer headband and the sword, holding them both out toward Kyle quisitively.

“Dude, that’s not the warrior armor,” Stan says. Lynn gave him a flat look, gesturing again to both, and hoping this wasn’t about to turn into a frustratingly stupid game of charades --

Kyle tilted his head, eyes going from the headband to the sword before something seemed to click, “Oh! You want to heal and hit shit?”

Ding ding, we have a winner!

Kyle looked contemplative, “We don’t really have a class for that, but… hm,” he tapped his fingers against his opposite arm, “I think we can manage that. Cartman’s got Butters as a Paladin, but he made that class human only, so we’d need to think up a different name for it. What do you call a healer who hits things?”

“A really bad healer?” Stan offers up.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Lynn tapped him on the shoulder, helpfully showing him her phone screen with the wikipedia page for Cleric opened up on it, I think THIS is what you’re looking for.

Kyle read it, then nodded after a minute, “Yeah, we can totally swing that. It’s… ugh, it’s essentially the...” he mumbled something under his breath, “Class.”

Lynn blinked, then tilted her head, putting a hand up to cup behind her ear, Wanna run that one by me again, I think I just SERIOUSLY misheard you.

“Ugghhhh, Cartman called it the Jew class, alright?” Kyle said, with an exasperated roll of his eyes, “Cleric’s a way better name, though, so that’s what we’re going with.”

Wow. Ooookay then.

“Yeah,” Kyle sighed, clearly seeing the shock on her face, “Right, let’s get you geared up.”

It was a little surprising to see just how MUCH stuff the shop had accumulated, and how creative the boys had gotten with their homemade weapons. Well, if a zombie apocalypse ever hits, these guys are set. It was a little annoying to have to spend her allowance for her ‘staff,’ though. At least Kyle gave her the armor set for free, mostly because they had to pick and choose pieces from their already established classes, and helped her get the fake pointed ears on.

“Just don’t futz with ‘em too much, we tried gluing them on but well -- a couple peoples’ moms got mad,” he shrugs. Lynn dropped her hand from where she was playing with her hair, trying to get it to settle around the pointy appendages, “Okay, so, we’ve got your class, your equipment… oh, right, add me on facebook so you can stay in contact,” Kyle said, “It’s how I usually give orders, Cartman keeps trying to assassinate me every time I leave my yard,” he rolls his eyes.

Oh. Thaaaaaat was going to be a problem…

Kyle raised an eyebrow at Lynn as she fidgeted awkwardly, “Dude, what? I know you’ve got a phone, what’s the issue?” Well yeah, her parents learned that lesson that their while daughters would concede to share many things - a room, clothes, an identity - a phone would not be one of them. It had only taken a few fights for them to cave and get a second phone. But only one of them had the Facebook app downloaded, and that phone? Was in Alyssa’s possession at the moment.

Sighing, Lynn pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over to Kyle, who looked confused as he flipped through the screens, “...you don’t have Facebook?” He finally asked when he put two and two together.

Technically, no. But it’s not like I can explain that me and my twin sister have to share a facebook page that’s heavily monitored by our parents, sooo… Lynn took the phone back, opening up her contacts, and tapping the screen next to her parents’ cell numbers, “Ohhh. Overprotective parents?” Stan guessed.

Close enough, she nodded.

“W-well, we won’t t-t-tell if yyyyyou d-don’t,” Jimmy grinned. She gave him a flat look, and the grin dropped slightly, “S-ssorry. Sore sp-pot?” She shrugged, willing to let it slide. At least he apologized.

Then her phone wasn’t in her hands as Stan took it out of her grip, “Here. I’ll make you a Facebook page, that way your parents can’t get mad at you for doing it, right?”

I am pretty sure that is NOT how that works, Stan. But she didn’t try to grab it back, letting Stan fiddle with it.

“Dude, what do I put in for your name?” Stan asked, looking up at her, and Lynnea’s brain froze up. She couldn’t tell them her real name -- for a number of reasons, the current top of the list being they thought she was a guy.

“Well not his real name, obviously, if we don’t want his parents finding the page,” Kyle saves the day, “We do need to call you something, though. Unless you want to keep going by ‘New Kid’.”

Preferably not, but I can always change it later, right? She shrugged, motioning for the phone back. She’d send all the relevant people a friend request in a minute if they didn’t beat her to it, But first, let me take a selfie, she thought with an inward giggle as she held the camera up and snapped a picture. At least she didn’t feel too out of place as the friend requests flooded in -- it looked like all of the boys had their costumes on in their profile pics, at least for the moment.

It struck her, about then that, for the first time in possibly her whole life… she had friends. Friends that were hers, not hers and Lyssie’s. Lynn blinked rapidly -- she didn’t know MUCH about these guys, but crying in front of a bunch of boys probably wasn’t going to win her points. She shoved her phone in the pocket of her new robe, looking up at them.

So… now what?

‘Now what’ was apparently teaching her the rules of the game, and how to fight -- that one, at least, she already knew. She’d gotten into enough scuffles with Lyssie over their lives to know how to defend herself, at least. And that was without the solid, somewhat sharp metal rod she now had to hit people with. She also got the privilege of holding onto a slew of health and power ‘potions’ -- snacks. At least Kyle lent her a backpack for those.

“Now that you’re fully initiated into my army, I have your first task for you,” Kyle said, hopping back up into his throne once he felt she wouldn’t make a fucking fool out of herself, “The humans will stop at nothing to retrieve the stick, so we need to take it somewhere they won’t look. Stan, I want you and the New Kid to escort the Bard back to the Inn of the Giggling Donkey. Jimmy, I’m putting you in charge of guarding the stick. We’ll get our men set up inside to keep you safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Jimmy and Stan said.

Kyle grabbed the stick off the arm of his throne, handing it over to Stan, who took it with a firm nod, “Guard it with your lives. The Grand Fatass canNOT get his hands on it again,” Kyle said, “Now, go! Before they have time to regroup.”

“C’mon, New Kid, we’ll show you around town while we head to Jimmy’s -- er, the Inn,” Stan said, tucking the stick in his belt and heading toward the back door. Jimmy followed after him, pausing to shake mud and grass off the ends of his crutches before going inside. Lynn practically bounced along behind them.

Maybe this move wasn’t going to be so shitty after all.

[follyoliver]

Taking a break from writing little bits about Daryl’s time following Merle and his biker gang around the backwoods of Georgia to chime in with my opinions about Carol’s boyfriend options and how they are several, and they are all competent, interesting, complicated characters with a core of goodness, who have a lot of respect and even admiration for Carol - and one boring suburban dad.

The amount I do not give a shit about Tobin is truly staggering. I mean, sure, he’s nice. He’s nice to Carol. He’s a step up from Eddie, that’s for fucking sure. But that is low standards when Carol is this amazing, badass, one-woman army who cannot be stopped, who can take down a whole fortress all on her lonesome, who thinks kids should protected at all costs, including teaching them to be able to defend themselves during secret story time training sessions!

She’s been courted and otherwise followed around desperately by a kung fu master who has mystical visions of the dead, an angel of death, and 1 actual king and you’re telling me she’s into this piece of dry toast, khaki pants wearing, balding, soft, non threatening, bland, elevator music, middle-aged middle-class middle-of-the-road white man???????????? Seriously?

Can we talk about how much Morgan loooves her, and despite her constantly telling him to fuck off he keeps coming back if her life is in danger, and he’s a little patronizing at times but not overbearing, and he just, he loves her so much that he starts killing again, to save her life, and he admits that she’s right about killing for people you love, which is as good as a love confession, and he’s always checking on her during her stupid self-imposed exile, just to make sure she’s alive and maybe bring her some food, like a good boyfriend.

Can we talk about Daryl’s devotion to her? I honestly hate to even read it as romantic because Carol is so maternal with him, and he’s so filial with her. He’s all “don’t be sad mom” from the minute he starts looking for Sophia, and it just keeps going in that vein forever, even after her transformation into Mega-Carol, who doesn’t need his help anymore, not really. But even if we don’t read it as romantic it’s still clear that it could be read that way, and he’s still a better boyfriend than Tobin.

Can we talk about how King Ezekiel is in love with her?????????????? And he’s sexy and he’s a sweet, funny, LARPing nerd and he’s a literal king????? Like it doesn’t matter that he’s a renfaire nerd about it, he still literally reigns over the kingdom as a literal king. And he’s a good king! They have such a big functional peaceful kingdom! With food and crops and a reasonable defense force!

I mean recently they lost the defense force, but this Negan shit is really exceptional circumstances and i don’t think their loss undermines the magnitude of what Ezekiel has built in any way. Obviously Ezekiel feels differently, because he feels responsible, so he’s going thru some Stuff right now, but that takes Nothing away from my point here, which is that he’s Carol’s best and sexiest boyfriend option and they are In Love and the show needs to get on board with that pronto, ok. Carol deserves this! Ezekiel deserves this! The audience deserves this! Plus, unite their kingdoms with their romantic partnership - a good old fashioned political marriage alliance! But with less patriarchal gender role stuff! Carol cannot be tamed!

Ezekiel is sexy and fashionable and had a tiger! Ezekiel goes and confides in Carol privately because she really Sees Him! Ezekiel is fun! Ezekiel cares deeply about the safety of his people! Just like Carol cares deeply about the safety of hers! Ezekiel puts up with Carol's Extra, melodramatic bullshit because he is also Extra and melodramatic! He needs her ruthlessness and clear-eyed, sometimes harsh perspective to balance out his gentleness and forbearance! He needs her intense partisanship to balance his careful neutrality in the name of peace! I love them!!!!!!!

But no, the seduction of some slim facade of normality, represented by her stint in Alexandria and her relationship with Tobin, was too much for Carol to resist. And of course that makes sense. She does really like the idea of herself as a normal sweet boring suburban mom. She wants to be ordinary and non threatening and pretend that she’s never been thru any trauma in her life. She wants a fresh start, and apple pie, and a house with a yard. She wants it desperately. During the majority of this show, it has not been an available option. Once it is, it is clear - to me at least - that this is the part of Carol that most holds her back. Seeming normal and non threatening in order to blend in or avoid suspicion is one thing - actually settling in and settling down and above all, settling for, is another thing entirely.

Carol deserves better! Carol is exceptional and should absolutely hook up with one of the exceptional people who are throwing themselves at her! In some ways I think it should be Morgan just because they’re such good foils for each other - hypercompetent lone wolves with really interestingly contrasting philosophies of killing that shift and evolve and respond to each other - but on the other hand, she’s much better partners with Ezekiel, and it’s just really deeply sexy when he looks deep into her eyes and tells her in his regular person voice, not his king voice, that she “sees” him.

This is all to say that I’m not sorry Tobin is dead now, and it was a pretty exciting death scene, which is all I’d ask from his character, who after all never did anything wrong and was a sweet guy, probably. He deserves an exciting death scene, as opposed to an offscreen death or just kinda being forgotten about.

Hopefully now Carol can mourn him and move on to someone more interesting.

[thewanderingwench]

My Lovely Interview with UhOhBurns

I’ve never given much thought to the matter, but it’s recently occurred to me that people nowadays don’t use the word “lovely” enough. There’s a whimsical property to it that I didn’t know I was missing until I spoke to Piper, known to her fans as UhOhBurns. 

The 24-year-old LARPer and cosplayer has a knack for using the underappreciated adjective, and her way with words doesn’t end there. I was fortunate enough to have Piper agree to provide a look into her life as an influential presence on the LARP and cosplay scene, and her answers were nothing short of insightful. 

Piper has been cosplaying since “before she knew what cosplay was”. She became familiar with the term around 2010 or 2011, but said she has been dressing up as characters her whole life. LARP found her later in life when she attended college, in the form of a campus group called Humans vs. Zombies. Though it was never properly dubbed a LARP, the game that included both students and teachers fit all the criteria for live action roleplaying. 

Much like her experience with cosplay, Piper didn’t know the activity she’d come to love had a proper name until she found YouTube videos and Tumblr posts about LARP. Rather than turning up her nose at a hobby with such nerdy repute, she dove into it with enthusiasm. 

“The reason I began to get so interested (in LARP) is because theatrical experiences are one of my passions,” she said. “I majored in theatre, so a chance to act and be active called to me.”

Needless to say, her love of LARP persisted after college. Her pursuits of her passion have led her to a wealth of  worlds, each with unique plots. What makes LARP an amazing hobby, in Piper’s eyes, is the theatrical elements, which she described as “hypnotic”.

“You can be the hero, the villain, the village person... and still have your moment. It isn’t like live plays where you may be limited in your performance due to a script, roles and lines. Your experience is your own. You make it what it is.” 

I was interested to know what Piper’s own experiences were. As a plus-size member of the LARP and cosplay communities and LARPer and cosplayer of color, I was intrigued by what she had to share. 

“My experience has been mostly positive,” she said, “However, like most of the world, sometimes games forget the intersectionality of human existence. I want to say to all marginalized bodies, continue to go to cons, larp and cosplay. Continue to take up space. We are needed.

We have opinions and ideas that must be treasured because they are great and bring change: necessary change. I have seen discrimmination, and gatekeeping in the community, but it is merely a reflection of the world, and the world is changing. 

I want everyone to realize that with any ugly that comes to the surface in these communities, a light shines through. Bringing darkness to the light helps us to protect ourselves and each other. It’s not that the entirety of these communities are toxic. No. It’s that we can now see clearly what is wrong, what is hurtful and what must change. Seeing the ugly may deter you, but know that seeing it simply means it’s being chased out! Keep chasing it out and stand strong together. 

You are welcome regardless of gender, disability, color, or religion. We need you. We need everyone who is good and true to continue to do what they love or to jump in, only then can we keep changing.” 

I was touched by the humanity with which she looked at such a fantastical pastime. Even through all the costumes, makeup, and improvisational acting, she exhibited the ability to reach past that and find the human heart of it. She showed an affinity for seeing the people inside the armor and the faces behind masks; people with insecurities and doubts that she, herself, is not without. 

“I think about my size and how it may affect how people see me before every game. Every. Game.” she said. 

“But, for the most part it has never been an issue besides some online bullying. I would like to let other plus size nerds know that they have a right to fun and adventure. Adventurers and players come in all shapes and sizes and anyone who has a problem with your size, small or big, does not have a claim to our community. I want the community to practice body positivity and love. Think about accessibility options more for our plus size and disabled friends. Think about others. Be kind.”

Piper has attended several large-scale events, but to date, her favorite LARPs have been boffer-style LARPs she’s done with her friends or attended at university. As far as her favorite character, “She hasn’t been created yet,” Piper said, “but I hope she’s coming.” 

Piper does, however, have a cosplay she’s most proud of. Her cosplay of Ursula from The Little Mermaid was a test of her skill and taught her a lot about crafting. She created a body of armor from EVA foam that, while imperfect, is something she takes pride in.   

She also takes pride in her friends, as she said one of her most unforgettable LARP moments was “being blasted out of the sky with magic during one game and as I died, I watched one single friend defeat all of my other pals in combat single handed. Epic.” 

Epic, indeed, and according to Piper, that level of badassery doesn’t have an age limit. 

“Being creative isn’t a competition,” she said in her parting words to me.  “Having fun doesn’t have to stop because your hair greys and your back hurts. You can make worlds in the comfort of your own home. Make those worlds, play the game and live. Be free.” 

How lovely.

[pellicano-sanguino]

Personal post about job hunting troubles and a difficult decision.

For three summers in a row I have been living in the upstairs of my parents’ house. This is because despite all my efforts I couldn’t get a job in my home city. Here, in my parents’ home city however, I had connections (well, my mother had connections) and I easily found work. It’s been an acceptable temporary solution, I get along with my parents just fine and there’s enough room in the house to not feel crammed with the three of us. But now my current job is coming to an end and I have to make a difficult decision.

I have been offered a permanent job here. It hurts so much to decline the offer because a permanent job would be a dream come true. With a reliable income all my money worries would be over. I could get a mortgage. I could buy a house. A real home, not just a rent apartment. A real house with a real yard, so all my gardening dreams could come true. I dream of apple trees and red currant bushes, flowerbeds filled with white lilies. Without a steady income (or a wife), I won’t ever get a mortgage. Without a steady income, I must always be financially and mentally prepared to fall back into unemployment hell.

The threat of unemployment hell looms over me like a fucking guillotine blade all the time. I’m so sick and tired of stressing over it. But it’s a part of reality I can’t escape. I have suffered long term unemployment before, it can happen again. I have sent countless job applications to companies in my home city, but haven’t got as far as job interview yet. It’s depressing when your email just fills with messages of “Thankyou for showing interest in out company! Unfortunately this time we didn’t choose you! Have a great autumn!” 

So it sounds like the reasonable thing to do would be to accept the offer for permanent job in my parents’ home city, right? Sure, if I didn’t give a damn about where I live, that would be so. But I am very fond of my own home city and I don’t want to move out of it just to get employed. A short, temporary solution like these summer jobs are ok, but moving here permanently is something I very much don’t want to do.

My parents’ city doesn’t have a sword school and it’s too far from the cities that have one that I would have to hang my sword on a wall and give up that hobby. And more importantly, my home city is where two of my good friends live. For the sake of anonymity, let’s call them Rabbit and Tigel (all friends and family members will be assigned a bestiary animal as a pseudonym. And yes, there’s a reason why Tigel’s name is spelled with an L.). 

Now, I have other friends too, and I don’t want to downplay the importance of my other friends, but Rabbit and Tigel are special. If it wasn’t for Rabbit, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. When I was younger, I was an awkward introvert that only had one friend. Because I was bullied heavily, I had trust issues and generally avoided people. One day my only friend took me to a place where a bunch of larpers gathered to play RPGs, fight with boffers and dance renaissance dances. It’s the latter that pulled me forward, despite dreading - to use a Tumblr phrase here - the mortifying ordeal of being known. Dancing has always been a great passion of mine, but I was too afraid to approach the dancers. I stood alone by the wall, watching with admiring eyes the ring of dancers at the stage. There was Rabbit, she noticed me and asked me to come dance with her. The first renaissance dance I learned was a simple thing, Branle Burgundy, but it felt magical then, my feet stomping the floor at the same beat as the other dancers’ and Rabbit’s kind, encouraging words when I messed up. It was the beginning of my larping hobby, through which I made most of my current friends.

When my only friend of the time found a boyfriend, she stopped answering to my letters and calls, slowly cutting our friendship off because she didn’t need me anymore now that she had a boy. This would have been devastating if I had not made new friends among the larpers. If Rabbit hadn’t asked me to dance with her that day, I would be very lonely. They have been the most loyal and kind friends I have ever had. Once, I was stuck in unemployment hell and fucked up filling some form and got a punishment of three months of no unemployment benefit. I had enough savings to pay the rent but food money looked dire. I made a “Well, guess I got to tighten the belt.”-type of post in social media. Soon after that Rabbit and Tigel collected funds from all of my friends and appeared at my apartment with a bag full of tiny ziplock-bags with two 2€ coins in each, labeled after the days all the way until the day my ban would be lifted. They collected food money for me, when I was in trouble. I will never forget this act of kindness.

Now times are tough for Rabbit and Tigel in turn. They run a farm together, it’s been their dream the same way a big garden is my dream. But Rabbit is very sick. While their farm is doing pretty decently (all the meat they can produce is sold and the customers would buy even more) running a small organic farm by two people still isn’t enough to keep them financially stable, so Tigel’s had to take another job in the city. She tries to help Rabbit with the farm work, but doing basically two jobs is very taxing. They could downshift the workload by having less animals to take care of, but that would chip at their income. 

Do to others what you’d wish to be done to yourself. Now it’s my turn to help. Rabbit and Tigel are too kind to accept my help unpaid, so they pay me in meat (I happily take the low quality meats that they can’t offer to restaurants) and occasionally with vegetables, berries and apples. I can’t be there every day to help them, but I like to come when there’s some big workload that needs to be done and give a hand. It’s tough, hard work, but very rewarding, because you see the results of your labor more clearly than in jobs like customer service. I also very much like spending time on their farm, it’s such a nice place.

If I permanently moved to another city, I wouldn’t be able to help Rabbit and Tigel. Sure I could travel there on a day off work, but the drive is so long that I wouldn’t be in a good fit to start doing hard labor after that. It just wouldn’t work out. If I move away, I will have to give up seeing Rabbit and Tigel for more than like twice a year. And this is why I have decided to decline the offer for the permanent job.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been under pressure from my family members to accept the job offer. I know that to them my decision seems wrong and stupid and missing a golden opportunity. But this is my life, my future. Not theirs. So I wish they would respect my decision and understand that it wasn’t an easy choice to make. But I have made up my mind. Even if it means a fall back to unemployment hell, I am not abandoning Rabbit and Tigel, not leaving my beloved home city.

[huntertales]

Part One: Your Nerd Is Showing. (LARP and the Real Girl S08E11)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the mysterious deaths of two LARPers who were engaged in a game involving an actual fairy. While digging deeper into the game, the boys discover the queen of Moondoor is a familiar face they met just a few short years ago, an I.T. woman named Charlie Bradbury.  Word Count: 6,140. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You wanted to say things were finally starting to look up for the better since getting back to your own head space. Sam was back in business with you and Dean, but the decision forced him to leave Amelia along with the happy life he lived a year ago that he was thinking about wanting to have forever. The choice didn't just effect Sam, in order for this to work again, Dean ended his friendship with Benny when it was realized that the vampire only caused more harm than good to keep around. The reason why Dean had kept the brotherly bond going for so long was for the reason that Benny had saved him from that hellhole and felt like he had owed him. You thought saving the vampire’s life twice was enough payment for what he had done. At some point he was going to have to let the past go, all of you had to in order to make room for the future.

You had gotten Cas back just a few weeks ago without a real explanation of how he got pulled out of Purgatory, you wanted to turn a blind eye and pretend that maybe it was the universe spitting him out of a place where he didn't belong. But that didn't seem to be the case when the angel starting acting strange, in a way that you didn’t want him to be around until you figured out what was going on. You were starting to grow happy that he decided to skip out on all of you and kept quiet. Kevin was still trying to figure out how to read his half of the demon tablet, but he wasn't making much progress. You and the boys were left going back to what you knew well, roaming around the country and looking for a case to keep you occupied until something better came along.

You were lying down in the backseat of the Impala, not looking for sleep, just enjoying the peacefulness of the quiet ride you hadn't felt since the arguments and fighting started with the boys. There was nothing better than hearing the rain hit the metal roof as Dean's music played quietly up front. This was what you loved. But what you didn’t particularly enjoy was the feeling of your jeans feeling tighter than you were used to. You knew you were already a few more pounds away from not being able to get into your jeans anymore. And weeks shy of a stomach that wasn’t going to look like you were getting little chubby from eating.

While you were relaxing in the backseat and occupying yourself with the silence, Dean was in his rightful place behind the wheel and his brother in the passenger seat right across from him. Every so often the older man took his attention off the road to steal a glance at you from the rear view mirror to see that you hadn't changed much over the past few hours. He snuck a glance at his little brother from the corner of his eye to see Sam was occupying himself with a map that was illuminated by the small flashlight he was holding. Even Dean could see in the darkness the sullen expression on his brother's face. It wasn't exactly the passive anger he had shown for weeks now, or the regret he was probably feeling from leaving a life he wanted behind. He just looked like he needed some fun to get him back into the swing of things again.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked his little brother.

You moved your gaze away from the window and turned your head slightly forward so you were looking up at the back of the boys' head when you heard Dean's question directed to the younger Winchester. Sam was silent for a moment before he answered. "We have the most powerful weapon we've ever had against demons, and we can't find a way to use it."

“Yeah, well, Kevin’s on it. And when he finds something, he’ll call. So we wait.” Dean said. It was the answer that nobody wanted to hear at this point in the game when you had something big brewing up. Kevin was working his hardest at trying to find anything about closing the gates of hell, but even you had to admit you were growing antsy at finding something. “Look, all of us had a rough go over the couple of weeks. And,uh, I know what you guy up wasn’t easy, Sammy. Maybe we ought to take the night off—go see a flick, hit a bar or two, have some fun.”

"You remember fun, don't you, Sasquatch?" You teased the younger man as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You were now leaning against the front seat of the Impala with your head poking between both of the brothers, your attention focused on Sam as you gave him a smile with an arched brow. "Let's squeeze some in before it’s too late.”

Sam knew what you were really talking about from the subtle joke you slid into the conversation, his brother presumed you it was about the closing the gates of hell and the tedious process it was going to bring. You leaned back in your seat when Sam’s phone began ringing. He shoved a hand into his pocket and looked at the caller I.D., and speaking of the prophet, he noticed Kevin’s name pop up on the screen when he looked down at his phone.

“Kevin, what do you got?“ Sam answered the phone thinking it was the prophet, however another voice he hadn’t heard in a couple of weeks. It was the hunter who was in charge of looking after the kid. “Garth. Hey. Really? Okay. Uh, yeah. Thanks, man.” You furrowed your brow slightly in curiosity from the one sided conversation you were hearing Sam have with the other hunter you had only worked with once, and nearly ripped his head off. Garth took over the role of Bobby, checking up on hunters and keeping an eye on the most important person in the supernatural world right now. It seemed from the sounds of Sam’s conversation Garth called to give the three of you a case, however the younger Winchester was caught up with one little factor he couldn’t help himself but ask before he ended the call. “Oh, wait, hey—hey Garth. Garth, are you there?” Sam asked the other hunter. You heard the man on the other line reply with a yeah when you leaned forward in your seat to eavesdrop on the conversation. “How’d you know where we are?” The hunter’s response made your lips stretch into a smile, “You’ve been Garthed.” “Look, it's bad enough that you're tracking us, but it's even worse when you say we've been ‘Garthed.’” Sam said, seeming not amused as you were from the man’s catchphrase that you knew he was going to try and make a thing. The both of them discussed a few more things before Sam ended the call, a sigh falling a second after he hit the end button. “Okay, we got to lose the GPS on our phones, because Garth has been tracking us, and other hunters, apparently, to assign cases.” “Smart. A total Bobby move.” You said. You admitted to Garth straight to his face you never liked the idea of him taking the place of the older hunter who passed. But you came around, and seemed happy at seeing him excelling in the role. “What's the deal?” “Uh, well, it's close—Farmington Hills, Michigan. Dude got ripped limb from limb inside his locked apartment.” Sam told you the details of the case that Garth called about. You winced slightly at the thought while Dean muttered about how that wasn’t good. “Working a case. As long as we're waiting on Kevin, that'll be our fun.” You were tempted to make a remark about how much of a downer he was being at focusing so hard on the job and not letting loose after the tense weeks all of you had. But you stopped yourself when you started to think about things from his point of view. Sam's kind of fun wasn't what you or Dean had in mind, his was left behind in the motel in Texas with a broken heart. He wanted to forget about the life that he left behind and focus on the very thing he was going to be doing for the rest of his life. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be in the mood for anything fun if what you wanted was ripped away from you once again. You knew it was going to take some time for him to adjust to the way things were. And when he was finally over his past maybe you could force a smile on that face of his and make him feel a little bit happier about his choice.

+ + +

The next morning you and the boys headed to the crime scene dressed in your fed clothes to try and see what you might be able to learn yourselves about what could have caused a man to have his limbs ripped apart. You flashed your badge to the officer guarding the door and offered him a smile when he glanced nonchalantly at the identification and nodded his head for the three of you to head inside. The place was still crawling with the forensic team and a few officers going over the crime scene to see what they could learn about what caused a man to be ripped apart limb by limb. You were here for the same reason, but looking for a different type of suspect and evidence to find the killer.

You followed behind the boys as you took a moment to take a look around the apartment of your victim. First thing you noticed was the movie posters on the wall of a certain genre you strayed away from and a complete shelving space dedicated to what appeared to be all sorts of fantasy looking toys. Your observation was quickly cut short when your attention was drawn away from the shield you were looking at and the sheriff that was in charge of this investigation.

“Sheriff. Special agent Taggart.” Sam introduced himself to the older man before directing his arm to Dean and then you. “This is my partner special agent Rosewood and special agent Crane.”

“FBI? You guys are quick.” The sheriff said. It seemed he was expecting the feds at a later date in this investigation, you were a little surprised that you were here so soon as well. You had arrived in Michigan late into the evening and got a few hours of sleep before Sam suggested on getting to the crime scene before any sort of possible readings could be tampered with. “Haven’t even got the body out.”

"Well, the FBI is all work, no play." Dean jokingly said. You knew well enough that the man wasn’t making small talk with the sheriff when he looked over to his brother to give him a smile. It was more of a subtle petty jab. You refrained yourself from rolling your eyes at his childish behavior.

"You know, why don't you give me and agent Crane the tour while our partner looks around?" Sam suggested as he gestured an arm to you. “I like to think her and I work together best.”

"I work better on my own." Dean added.

"Your world, agents." The sheriff said, shrugging his shoulders as he turned around and started to head to the bedroom as he waved a hand for you and Sam to come along. "Follow me."

The three of you exchanged a silent exchange of words from a simple nod of the head. You and Sam followed behind the sheriff as Dean headed into the kitchen that was empty for now, giving him peace to scan the room for any sort of readings. You made your way into the bedroom where the victim had been found murdered in his own bed, all of what remained was an outline of a torso and head that were covered with a white bed sheet. You found yourself staring at the bloody marks left on the sheets of where his limbs used to be before they were ripped off by some unknown force. You knew it had to be psychically impossible for someone to rip off a human limb with some rope and willpower alone. Even if a handful of people were involved in this crime. But there wasn’t much evidence to show that there was anyone at all.

“Vic’s name was Ed Nelson, thirty-one years old, an insurance-claim adjuster.” The sheriff began informing you of the basics on the victim. You continued to look around the room to see there was blood splatter all over the walls. This poor bastard died brutal and bloody. “He lived alone, which was a real shocker, considering his place is full of toys.”  

“So what happened?” You asked the sheriff.

“No sign of forced entry. Near as we can tell, he was tied up and pulled apart. Died of the shock or massive blood loss.” The sheriff said. You could only hope the death of the victim was quick and painless, but the sight of the bedroom and all of his splattered blood made you guess he felt his limbs being ripped out from the socket and skin ripping from his body...you stopped yourself from thinking too much about it, shuddering in disturbance. “Dealer's choice on that one."

“So what about these chains?” Sam wondered as he looked down at the duffel bag lying zipped open with all sorts of clothes still inside, making it look like the victim had just come back from a trip and didn't bother unpacking just yet. You peered closer to see there appeared to be just that, and it looked oddly familiar to you, making you wonder why the victim had some lying around.

“That’s actually chain mail.” The sheriff corrected the younger Winchester. You found yourself giving the sheriff a slightly surprised look as to why your victim, had some medieval hardware packed with his everyday clothing. You got a shrug and a smile from the sheriff. “We did find clear rope-burn marks on his wrists and ankles.”

Sam decided to head over to the victim to see if he might be able to find something that could explain what happened. You followed behind him as he crouched down to the ground to examine the left arm. Lifting up the blanket covering the limb, you hovered over Sam's shoulder to see if there was anything suspicious. And you sure did. You found what appeared to be a mark on the forearm that looked to be an old tree. It could have been a tattoo, but your gut was telling you otherwise when you and Sam made eye contact, both of you presuming it might have meant something more than just some ink.

“So, anything...missing from the body?” Sam asked the sheriff as pushed himself up to his feet.

“You mean aside from the arms and legs? Uh...nope.” He said, chuckling at the man’s odd sounding question “All there—twig and berries, too.”

"What about the neighbors?" Sam continued. "Did they hear anything weird?"

“Uh, neighbor downstairs said she got woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of horses stomping their feet and galloping. We didn’t find any hoof prints. She probably heard a TV or was having a bad dream or she was high as balls. Fortunately, we got a real lead off his cellphone.” The sheriff said, heading out of the bedroom and to the living room area that was just a few steps out of the room. "According to the phone records, Ed's last call was from a guy called Lance Jacobsen. An accountant, also thirties, also lives alone."

Your focus was momentarily cut away from the sheriff for a moment when you saw Dean stepping out of the kitchen. You gave him a subtle look, wondering if he might have found anything useful, but the shaking of his head told you otherwise. You let out sigh and directed your attention back to the older man to ask, "How's he a lead?"

“The two of them talked together for fifteen minutes, and then Lance sent Ex here all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were your typical threat stuff, but some were a little weird.” The sheriff said. Dean wondered what he meant by weird. The sheriff looked down at his notepad for reference and flipped through the pages to find the exact words. “Like, uh…’You small bleed for your crimes against us,’ followed by an emoticon of a skull. And this beauty—’I am a mage. I will destroy you.’”

“Huh.” You mumbled underneath your breath in curiosity from the texts that did sound like they were threatening, but in a context that was a bit odd. “Maybe they were…” Your eyes wandered around the apartment once more as you looked around at the vast array of collectibles from all sorts of sci-fi and fantasy genres. “Talking in a language they could understand.”

“These kids today with their texting and murder.” The sheriff replied. He had to be in his sixties at least from the graying hair and beard, a little too out of touch with what people he would call his grandkids and what they liked to do in their free time. You offered up a polite smile, not exactly sure where he was going with that sentence. "My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to take first crack at the suspect.” Sam said.

“Like I said, agent,” The sheriff repeated what he said once before. “it’s your world.”

The sheriff seemed compliant with whatever you and the boys would need long as you kept up pretending you were FBI and here to help solve the case. Sure, you would have loved to spend a few days relaxing and doing something fun, even though a few of Dean’s suggested activists you couldn’t participate fully in. It was having the three of you back together and enjoying one another’s company was what you really missed. Working a case and finding out what could have ripped a man's limbs off wasn't a bad way to spend your time, either. Long as you and the boys were back together without bickering, you would consider yourself having fun.

+ + +

The drive to the police station wasn't too far from Ed Nelson's apartment, making it a few minute drive before you were heading inside the familiar setting you've seen dozens of times before. When you were pretending to be a federal agent and the rare occasions when you getting in trouble for doing said thing. You and Sam were ready to find out which interrogation room the suspect was being held in, Dean insisted that he needed one more cup of coffee before grilling someone.

While Sam waited around for his brother to fix himself up the drink in a paper cup he found along with creamer and sugar, Dean offered to make you a cup. You agreed to have a hot drink, but changed out the coffee for a cup of decaffeinated tea—one sugar packet and just enough creamer to change the tea into a slightly cloudy color. The creamer had to go first, and then the sugar. Your instructions were a bit odd, that’s what you expected was the reason why Dean was giving you a funny sort of look.

"What's with you lately?" Dean couldn't help himself but ask when he followed your directions to the T and handed over the warm to the touch cup to you. You furrowed your brow slightly as you brought up the paper cup to your lips, feeling the steam tickle your top lip as you blew on the liquid to cool it down. "Normally you’d kill for a cup of coffee. But you haven’t touched the stuff in weeks.”

You felt yourself freezing in your spot from the observation that Dean made about you that you hoped would go unnoticed, or presume it was a reason that wasn't worth mentioning. But you should have known better. Dean was trained in this sort of lifestyle to pick up the small cues that made you...well, you. You managed to keep your cool as Dean stared at you, his eyebrow raising slightly at why you were taking so long to answer. Suddenly you could feel the words "He knows" screaming in the back of your head. You heard of pregnant women getting frazzled and confused while they were carrying, and it seemed you caught the "pregnancy brain" early.

“That’s cause, uh...” Sam jumped into the conversation when he noticed you were starting to look a bit nervous as the seconds started to pass while you tried to think of a good enough of a lie to steer the topic into another direction. Dean gave his brother a slightly confused look as to why he was answering for you. “Y/N told me she hasn’t been feeling well lately. Thought it might have something to do with the drinking and caffeine. I suggested she cut it out for a while to see if she might feel better. You said that Y/F/N wasn’t much of a drinker, right?” "Yeah, I did, actually." You agreed with the white little lie that sounded good in your mind. Sam was smooth at being able to come up with a story right then and there, evening going for the person you were pretending to be to try and cover up any past behavior that might have been suspicious. Dean seemed satisfied with what you fed him as he walked off to throw away the sugar packets and creamer. You let out a sigh of relief as you looked up at the younger man who was now standing next to you. "You know, you’re pretty good at this whole lying thing.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders at the ability to come up with a story in the matter of seconds. What can I say? I've been doing it my whole life. And it’s not the first time I’ve lied to Dean about something…”

“Oh, Sammy. Come on. We talked about this. Try not to bring your gloom while we’re working.” You said, knowing well enough the conversation he was mentioning without even having to speak a single word. You lightly hit him on the chest as you began walking off to the interrogation room with your cup in hand. You looked over your shoulder as you grew a smile and gestured with your free hand for him to grow one of his own. “We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”

Sam rolled his eyes at your attempt at humor as he followed behind you into the interrogation room where your suspect was waiting since the cops picked him up about an hour ago. You set down your cup as you stood over the metal chair that was directly across from the suspect’s, giving you a chance to greet the man with a friendly smile. He looked up from his folded hands on the table to give you a nervous expression at the sight of not one, but three authority figures here to question him about the death of who he would call soon a friend, despite the texts that landed him here in the first place.

“Lance Jacobson? We’re with the FBI.” Sam was the one who introduced you to the man as he took the seat right next to him as Dean took the one next to you. All of you sat down and got yourselves comfortable for the routine questions you were about to ask him.

“The FBI?” Lance asked. He sounded surprised from his tone of voice at everything happening this morning. Too fast for his brain to comprehend the events all in a row. It would be stressful for anyone in his position. You gave him a moment to process why you were here as you attempted to take a sip of your tea. “I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Ed's dead.”

You found yourself momentarily stopping yourself from doing nothing when you saw Lance burst into tears as he let out a few hiccuping sobs. A natural reaction for someone who was coming to terms with the death of their best friend. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at Sam, both of you wondering if Lance was a really good actor. Or he was truly mourning the loss of a good friend in front of your very eyes. You furrowed your brow slightly in disturbance as you looked over at Sam who sat next to him, wondering if this was really happening. Not that there was anything wrong with a man crying about his pain, for some reason, you were starting to feel awkward, unsure if you should console him.

“Lance? Lance, just—just breathe.” Dean spoke up, trying to be the one to get the man to focus again for a few minutes so the three of you could ask your questions and head out to continue on with what you needed. Lance managed to compose himself for a few seconds as he lifted his head up to stare at the older Winchester. “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

Lance managed to keep himself together for all of two seconds before he started sobbing again. You took a sip of your drink as you watched the man go through himself at letting out a few more tears before someone tried again to get him back down to reality. "We just need to ask you a few questions." Sam told the man, reassuring him that it wasn't a serious matter quite yet. "Try to calm down."

“We want to know about the texts you sent Ed last night.” You explained to him, watching as he wiped away his tears and half-attempted to compose himself.

“I told them when they brought me in those texts weren’t from me.” Lance said.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you gave him an expression to show him you weren’t falling for such a weak attempt at his lie. “Well, your phone and Ed’s phone say otherwise.”

"No, I mean, they were from me, but they weren't from me me." Lance attempted to clear up the situation with an explanation to you and the boys that sounded justified in his head. However you found yourself staring at the man across from you with a blank expression. You would admit that you were a little more slower at thinking from the lack of caffeine to kick start your brain. But you had no clue what the hell Lance just said, and what he meant by anything.

“Did you really think that sentence was gonna clear things up?” You asked him.

“I’m sorry. This is all a big misunderstanding. Those text messages were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult. Our characters in Moondoor.” Lance attempted one more time to explain himself by giving more details and names that sounded like something straight of a fantasy novel. You found yourself staring into the distance as you tried to think if you had read anything with the names in them while Dean stared at the man with a blank expression, having not a single clue where this was going. "Moondoor is a game that Ed and I play. We're LARPers. Live-action role-playing?"

"Right. LARPing." Dean said, nodding his head. He offered a smile to Lance to show him that he understood all of that part. Good times."

“We play Moondoor every other weekend at Heritage park.” Lance said. “All the info about it is on our website.”

"You guys have a website." You repeated after the man, pretending to sound impressed.

"Yeah, one of the players designed it." Lance said. You were feeling yourself becoming overrun with the urge to start laughing at the man for what he liked to do in his free time. Not that you weren't a stranger by indulging things into things nerdy and what not, you managed to hide your smile as you reached for your cup of tea again. You and Dean looked at each other from the corner of your eye as you exchanged a slight snicker, Sam flashed you a warning glare to knock it off. “In fact, if you log onto the site, they should have posted pictures from last night’s feast. I was there all night.”

“What does any of this have to do with the texts?” Sam asked the man.

"I play a character named Greyfox the Mystic. I'm a very, very powerful mage in the game.” The details Lance gave didn’t clear anything up on what that had to do with anything. You raised your brow slightly as you pretended to be impressed by his alter ego he liked to play as before telling him to continue on. “Ed is…” Lance started to talk about his friend, but he found himself letting out a sigh as he corrected himself. “Ed was Thargrim the Difficult of the Elder Forest, son of Hargim and Bouphin, brother to—” While Lance was going on about the details, he found himself being lost in translation from the familiar blank expressions. "He was Lancelot to my Merlin."

“Ah.” Dean mumbled, finally beginning to understand some of the context of the situation. “Well, if you guys were so tight, then why the threatening messages?”

“We were named to the queen’s honor guard in anticipation of the battles of kingdoms this weekend. I thought he broke protocol, so I called Ed after game hours and accused him of cheating, and then I challenged him to a duel.” Lance said. Sam repeated after the man, wondering himself if he heard the last word correctly. “Wands and swords at dawn.”

"Now, just out of curiosity," You entertained the subject matter as you traced the rim of your paper cup. "When you say 'wands,' do you mean magic wands?"

"No. Un-magic wands, agent. Because what I really want in a duel is an un-magic wand." Lance sarcastically answered your question. You give him a look to show him you were being serious. In this line of work you learned to take everyone's word with a grain of salt. "Yes! Fake wands! It's a game!" You rolled your eyes from his response as you grabbed your cup up from the table to take another long sip of it to try and finish it. Lance thought it was the perfect time to continue on with his mourning that you had momentarily stopped. This time with an extra touch. "I can't believe it. Oh, ye gods! Thagrim the Difficult has fallen!”

Lance tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, Dean found himself following the man's gaze, wondering if there was something around that he couldn't see. The man burst into tears once more as he started to sob once again. You blinked as you watched him go through himself, not sure what you could do to make him...stop. You decided your time was done here and got up from your seat. However you couldn't leave him just yet crying like this. You awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, telling him that everything was going to be okay.

You and the boys headed out so Lance could grieve in privacy, what there was from the two way mirror and the security cameras. But you had good a feeling that wasn’t going to be much of a problem for him. You let out a sigh when you were finally back into the main area of the police station. Sam shut the door behind him as the three of you tried to make sense of what just went down.

"So?" Sam asked the both of you. "Do you believe Dungeons and Dragons?"

"I've seen a lot of people cry in my time from my time growing up and hunting. Those weren't crocodile tears, guys." You said. "That's not our guy.”

“So what are we looking at?” Sam wondered.

“You and Y/N saw the chain mail.” Dean said. “This could be ‘Fifty Shades of Grey Fox’ for all we know.”

“All right, well, let’s check out the Moondoor site,” Sam suggested. “see if Lance’s story checks out.”

You and the boys headed to the nearest available computer to see what you could find out in the quick search that it would take. You sat yourself down at the computer and pulled up a new internet browser. It took only a few seconds before you were at their homepage that looked pretty impressive and well put together. "'Welcome to Moondoor, Michigan's largest LARPing game.'"

“And here I thought we needed to get out more.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. His remark made you let out a quiet chuckle as you clicked on the photo gallery to see what you might be able to find and what this whole thing was all about.

You pulled up the pictures that must have been posted this morning. A slideshow of what appeared to be Lance in his costume seemed nothing more than some Renaissance fair. He seemed like he was having the time of his life with a grin on his face and women crowding around him. Part of you felt like this was something that from the outside looked like it was only for the type of people who occupied their parents' basements as teenagers playing their games of Dungeons and Dragons and watched Star Wars religiously. The people who found a safe haven in a fantasy world while in reality they were being shoved into lockers and teased for what they liked.

You would consider yourself a bit of a nerd. You enjoyed reading at every possible second you could get and prided yourself on the knowledge you worked hard on to discover, along with many other talents that were a bit useful while hunting. But you never quite had the problem of being labeled as a nerd. Sure, Dean had muttered the insult here and there, but you knew deep down he was one himself. It seemed his curiosity was peaked at what he saw. And you knew it wasn't because he saw Lance being kissed by two different women on the cheek, showering him with affection.

“Huh.” Dean mumbled, pretending to be only half-interested. “It actually looks kind of awesome.”

Sam gave his brother a look from the corner of his eye as you let out yet another quiet chuckle. "All right, there's a video." You said, pushing the mouse over to click on it. "Let's see what this is all about."

"Moondoor. A world of intrigue, honor, passion." You dropped your hand to the desk as you watched the video begin by opening up to a man who was dressed in a replica outfit that almost one like a knight before leading to a few shots of all sorts of people dressed in costumes, along with a blacksmith. You raised your brow slightly as the narrator continued on introducing the groups of people. "Four kingdoms—Followers of the Moon, Elves, Warriors of Yesteryear, and the dreaded Shadow Orcs. All will fight on the fields of Never in the biannual battle of kingdoms. PIck up a sword or a mace. Take control of Moondoor and defend the current ruler…”

The video played on with shots of the fake kingdoms of people and their respected outfits that differentiate them from others. And like every good kingdom needed a queen. You watched as the video cut to what appeared to be a knight handing a bouquet of flowers to a woman dressed in her respected crown and throne. You silently thought to yourself about how pretty her dress was, however your gaze was quickly shifted from her outfit and to the actual woman on the screen.

“Wait, is that…” Dean found himself taken back at a face that seemed all too familiar.

You watched as the shot of the woman zoomed in closer, giving a shot of the redhead as she smelled the bouquet of white flowers and stared into the lens, giving him a smile. “The Queen of the Moons.”

You hit the spacebar on the keyboard, stopping the video from playing anymore. With the video paused on the queen's face, you looked over your shoulder and pointed a finger at the screen, suddenly overcome with curiosity how they had met this woman before. And you had a feeling there was a good story behind this. "You know her?"

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[thenextgeneration3]

The missing link (part three)

Since before Anyone could remember it was always Clary, Simon and Y/n. Y/n was adopted by the Clary’s mom when she was just 6 years old. However, living in Brooklyn her British accent never left. They did everything together. Shared everything but that started to change after Clarys 16th birthday.

Warnings: non i think

Sorry for any mistakes

Hope you enjoy

Time lapse

Sitting in the library

“If you are a Blackstorm then how don’t I know about you. They were one of the top shadowhunter families.” Jace said while flipping through a dusty book

“So basically if I get this right. My blood means I’m part some cult that kills demons. Oh god Simon have you got me into a larping team. I’ve already told you in not into it. Also, Clary how are you so calm about all this. I’m about to call the but house for these people.” I said looking at both Simon and Clary.

“This is true Y/n. This is just like D&D. How aren’t you loving this?” Simon said excitedly getting a tut of Clary and Alec.

“Well I have had more time process and I’ve seen things. Also, it explains a lot of things. Like Luke and my mom . The whispering and the reason we haven’t got any family other than us.” Clary said while moving closer to Jace.

“Well I’m sorry but this is a lot of stuff to take in also is there anything else I can do to help find your mum.” I said changing the subject

“Well we are trying to find something my mom was hiding she hid from Valentine before she died. But I can’t remember anything.” Clary said while looking from Alec to Jace

“What do you mean she hid something? And if she did hide something wouldn’t she leave a clue maybe with someone maybe Luke or you. Someone she knows it’ll be safe with.” I said thinking about it

“That actually smart. Clary did your mom never leave you anything told you to keep it safe?” Jace asked placing down the book

“Wait Clary didn’t she give you some family heirloom for your birthday that pen thingy.”

“Oh yeah. This?” Clary said handing it over to Jace. “Yeah mom said she’d explain it.” She said shrugging.

“Okay is there any way we can find out if mum leave anything for you or a map.” I asked sitting next to Clary

“No I look back and it’s like all things to do with this world was whipped.”

“Yeah I’m surprised you didn’t notice those white scars on her body.” We both turned to wards Simon.

“What do you mean white scars.”

Those little white scars that were in her arms and legs. When we were at the lake and we went swimming. In her swim suit she had all those scars on her body.” Me and Clary looking puzzled

“It confirms she’s a shadowhunter but maybe she’s locked it away in her mind we could take them to the silent city. They could help”

Time skip

“Wow so the silent city is in a cemetery great not at all creepy.” I said wrapping my arms around me

“Who are the silent brothers?” Simon asked as we approached a fence.

“They are sort of librarians they help shadowhunter” Issy said while linking arms with Simon

“So why are you all scared of them if they are librarians. All give over due book?” Simon joked earning a scoff from Alec

“Right we stop here. Alec you patrol the perimeter. Issy you watch the mundi. Clary, Y/n and I will go in.” Jace have orders as we all we ready

We descended into the city of bones. Literally as everywhere was covered. There were words everywhere but in the shadow of the Witchlight it was hardly visible.

“What does that say?” Clary asked pointing at the scripture under the angel statue. Jace chuckled

“Shadowhunters looking better in black than the widows of our enemies since 1234”

“Really?” Clary looked confused looking over the words NEPHILIM: FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI.

“No it means the decent to hell is easy” I said walking past Jace not bothering to look back

“You speak Latin?” Jace asked surprised

“Yes and other languages. I have since I can remember.”

‘The Blackstorms are known to have spoken in various tongues.’ A voice inside my head said

“Okay. Am I going nuts or did someone just talk” I said while carrying onto a large room where symbol aligned the floor and a sword hovered from the ceiling

‘Welcome to the city of bones. We are the silent brothers we will help you recover what is lost. Clarissa Fairchild please step forward’ Clary walked towards the middle of the room. The sword came down and touched her and she cried out and hit the floor “Clary” I screamed Jace holding me back. She begins to write something in the dust.

“Magnus bane”

Time skip

In the institute they all were in the kitchen eating. I wasn’t hungry deciding to look around the place. The institute was massive. Every room designated to a different project. That when I ground the one room I was looking for the training room.

“Do you train?” I jumped not expecting someone to be there

“Alec Lightwood right ?” I said holding a hand over my heart

“Yes. Do you train?” He repeated

“A little. Wanna show me a few things ?” I asked removing the jacket.

“Fine. Now grab a staff” he said grabbing one himself

“Now I don’t want you to go easy on me” I said with a smirk as we begin to spar. I’ve never used a staff but it quickly adapted. Alec and I spared for a 30 minutes before he was able to trip me with the end of the staff.

“Not bad you need to keep an eye on your feet you leave them open. You also are very stiff from the waist down you need to move. Now again.” He said helping me up. It didn’t take long before I used his advice and was finally able to figure out his fighting technique. Then I was able to use my foot and trip him up and he landed on his back with my staff hovering over-his face. “Very good but you forgot something” he said before tripping me over. Landing on my back beside him. “Always look for a way out” he said chuckling while offering me a hand

“Omg is that Alec Lightwood laughing” Issy said from the door “you’ve got some skills Y/n. You sure you’ve never trained or known about shadowhunters because Jace was just saying you know a few languages.”

“I’ve spoken them since I was little and I made sure I use at least them all once a week. I also train in a dojo 3 days a week because it helps with balance and self defence. I live in Brooklyn after all. Now I’m off to take a shower.” I said putting back my staff

“Oh Y/n. We are going to Magnus you’ll need to dress pretty.”

“I don’t have anything with me?”

“Brilliant lets go to my room I can help with that.” Issy said linking arms and rushing off to her room.

Time skip

“Is do you have anything a bit more me ?”

“And what would that be”

“Well a mwah top would be nice I’m wearing my good bra and maybe a skater skirt. So I can wear my combats.” She began rooting throw her wardrobe.

“Like this?” She held a burgundy skater skirt with a complete mesh body suit with small velvet stars covering it.

“Perfect, fishnets ?” She was already holding them up. “Yes. Okay I’ll be two second.” I emerge from the bathroom looking older than I thought I had light make up on with my hair wavy and half up. Filling off the look with my beaten up combats. Issy, Clary and I emerged from the bedroom all dressed for the party “what you think?” Issy asked.

“I like” Jace said looking at me

“Wow” Simon said as he looked at Clary and I.

“Do you need a sheath? I have a few thigh ones you could borrow” Issy said to both Clary and I.

“No”

“No”

“Yes” Simon,Clary and I said at the same time.

“Does this mean I get a knife now?” I questioned raising my eyebrow at Jace and he handed up one of his many seraph blades

“Thank you”

Time skip

The music was so loud down the street it wasn’t hard to miss but I had the feeling I’d been there before. It was like I’ve been there many time. We knocked on the door a man with blue hair and black gothic clothes answered the door

“OMG. Please tell me you are all seeing him to ?” I questioned they all looked at me and Simon answered

“Yeah. The dude that looks like gay sonic the hedgehog crossed with the child catcher from chitty chitty bang bang. Very much so” he said picking his mouth from the floor

“Thank god I thought I was going mad again?” “May we come in we have an invitation”

“I don’t remember inviting nephelm to my party” he said “however,I was pretty drunk so I could. Just don’t kill my guests and I’m only going it because of the pretty boy” he said moving aside and letting us all in. “Thank you” Jace said while stepping inside “I didn’t mean you. I meant him with the blue eyes.” He said giving Alec a wink.

“I ship it.” I whispered to Issy as we walked past warning a smirk from Magnus.

Magnus slips of into a room and Clary and I follow him. “I’m surprised you are both here and accompanied by shadowhunters no less.” Jace entered the room with Alec. Simon was with Issy.

“What do you mean do you know these two?” Jace asked as he stepped closer to us both. Alec coming up behind us.

“Of course I watched them nearly grow up. Your mom came to me ages ago because she didn’t want you both in the shadow world. Jocelyn was very specific on what she wanted me to do. I told her it was tricky and could be risky but she wanted it anyways. I wiped both girls memories. Though Y/n was the hardest you had so much more time in the shadow world. Clary was a baby only a year or two younger but you already knew loads of languages for a young age. Also, you were just this little confident child that wasn’t afraid of anything.” He said looking at me. “However, I did what she asked and you luckily kept all the languages you’ve learnt but your mind fought back you came here more than Clary did. Then you started sparing Jocelyn was worried that it’ll trigger something but she let you do it anyways.” He looked at Clary “ you however, were a little minx your mom was determined to hide all your shadowhunter parts. You liked to pick on the fairies in the garden and you even picked on my cat. Once he scratched you of course you screamed like a banshee. I of courses as if you were half. She said no that your father wasn’t involved and he won’t be. I asked who he was she said he died. Then she made up this story about the man in the army to protect you.” He said sitting down

“Wow that was an unload and a half. So do you know where Jocelyn is now ?” I asked. “So yo know how to get these blocks off our minds also?”

“Once they were implicated no one can take them off however,since you are both here and you’ve already seen thought one of my hardest glamour. It would should be wearing off. Not long now.” After he said that a scream came from outside. Issy ran in crying and breathing heavily

“They’ve... theyve... they’ve taken Simon” she cried

“Who has?” Jace asked

“Vampires” she replied

Tags::

@perseny-blog

@dark-night-sky-99

@carinacassiopeiae

[waywardnerd67]

Eye of the Beholder

Summary: A chance meeting at a Halloween party has (Y/N) face to face with her favorite actor. Even though sparks fly between them (Y/N) cannot allow herself to believe that a man like him would ever be interested in someone like her. Finally, after agreeing to a date he proves that beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. Pairing: Jensen x Plus Size!Reader Warnings: Fluff/Body Image Issues Word Count: 4610 A/N: This one is purely a personal fantasy of mine that one day I will find a hot man (who looks like Jensen preferably) that will love me for my nerdiness, love handles and obsession with cheeseburgers. Also, it is meant to inspire/encourage all women no matter the what size they are that we all are equally beautiful from size 2 to 22. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy! **SPECIAL NOTE: This is a work of COMPLETE FICTION. I truly adore and respect The Ackles’ marriage and family. This is meant to be enjoyed as a work of FICTION as inspired by Jensen being a beautiful human inside.

(Y/N) walked into the large house nervously next to her best friend, Jill. “(Y/N) stop messing with your skirt you look gorgeous.” She looked to Jill rolling her eyes, “Easy for you to say in your sexy nurse’s outfit. I feel like a bloated Supergirl.” Jill shook her head and pulled her further into the house. The only reason why (Y/N) was even here was because Jill was guest starring on the show Supernatural and one of the Producers was having a Halloween party. Jill’s boyfriend could not make it which left (Y/N) to take his place. Her and Jill had shopped for hours trying to find a costume for her. She ended up just wearing one of her Superman shirts with a white button-down shirt, black pencil shirt and knee-high boots. (Y/N) already wore black square rimmed glasses which just finished off her Supergirl look.

She grabbed a bottle of beer and found small corner with a chair to sit and people watch. She was always amazed by how easily Jill could socialize with anyone. Did not matter if she had just met them or knew them for years she could talk to anyone. (Y/N), on the other hand, could barely form sentences when it came to meeting new people. She was naturally shy unless it came to comicbooks and all things nerdy. She glanced down at her hands holding her now empty beer bottle trying to decide if losing her little corner was worth getting another one. That is when a large hand stuck a beer in front of her face. Looking up, she lost all power of speaking or thinking.

“Hi, look like you could use another beer.” She nodded her lips slightly parted in shock as her favorite actor stood in front of her. “I’m Jensen and you are?” She shook her head trying to rattle the hamster in her brain to function. “Hi, um I’m (Y/N). Thanks,” she mumbled holding up the beer as Jensen leaned against the wall next to her. “I’ve never seen you at one of Jim’s parties before.” She bit her lip wishing he would have ignored her like every other hot guy who passed by her in her life. “I’m Jill’s best friend and her boyfriend couldn’t make it. I’m just a date fill in.” Jensen chuckled as he took a long drink from his beer. “Well, I would say that Jill definitely got a date upgrade. Supergirl?” (Y/N) let out a sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, more like Supergirl after binging on some cheeseburgers.” He shrugged, “I don’t know I personally like cheeseburgers and I bet she could put away some burgers.” (Y/N) chuckled nodding. Someone called out to Jensen and he excused himself.

(Y/N) took a deep breath watching him walk away dressed in his LARPing costume from the show. The way he filled out the brown pants and suede shirt made her sigh. Jill came bouncing up to her, “I see you met Jensen. How’d it go?” (Y/N) shrugged taking a long drink of her beer, “He said hi, I remember how to speak and he brought me a beer. That was it.” Jill rolled her eyes and sat down next to her. “(Y/N), you should seriously try to talk to more people and socialize. You’re never going to meet anyone if you hole yourself up in your apartment only talking to people online.” (Y/N) sighed heavily not wanting to hear the whole ‘get out be social for your own good’ speech again. “I think I’m going to get some air.” She said as she got up walking towards the front door before Jill could say anything.

She was sitting on the porch relishing in the cool fall breeze when she heard the familiar husky voice of Jensen Ackles. “Hi again.” She looked over seeing him pull up a chair next to her. “Aren’t you cold out here?” She snickered shaking her head, “Nope. I have natural extra layers keeping me warm.” She said poking her side pudge as she asked, “So, did you willing put on the LARPing costume or lose a bet?” she asked as he laughed. “Willingly since I didn’t have time to think of anything else and the costume department still had it. Decided not to go with the long Jared hair this time though.” She laughed looking up his perfect short dirty blond hair. It was slightly spiky and soft looking making her want to reach up and touch it. “Good choice.” She said smiling at him as he ran his fingers through his hair making it messy. “You like the short hair, huh?” She bit her bottom lip nodding. “Though, it could be a little longer like back when you were on Dawson’s Creek.” His booming laugh brought a big smile to her face.

“Talk about bad hair days!” He said taking a deep breath from laughing. “Your hair wasn’t that bad then. Towards the end of that season it looked great except how dark it was. Jeez!” He started laughing along with her. “So, I’m guessing you’re a fan if you’ve seen me on Dawson’s Creek?” She nodded feeling her cheeks heat up. “You caught me. I’ve been a fan since Dark Angel.” She admitted as he nodded. She watched as his eyes travel over her and she feel her insecurities flooding her. “Well, I must say that you are unlike any other fan I have ever met.” She scoffed, “How so?” He leaned in closer to her and she forgot how to breath looking into his brilliant olive eyes. “Well, you’re not hysterically crying or shaking. You also hold a conversation without first squealing.” She chuckled nervously leaning in a little further to whisper, “Full disclosure, my inner fangirl in passed out on the floor drooling in the fetal position.” Jensen bit his lip holding in his laughter and failing miserably.

(Y/N) ended up talking to Jensen throughout the night until his bodyguard, Clif, told him it was time to go since he had an early call in the morning. “I had a great time talking tonight. Do you think maybe we could go out and talk some more?” She looked up at Jensen stunned he was asking her out. Her insecurities screaming inside her mind reminding her she was not his type at all. She slowly shook her head, “Thanks for sitting with me, but I’m sure you have better people to hang out with than me.” She watched as his face fell saying goodnight and (Y/N) took several deep breaths in order to calm her rapidly beating heart. “Ready to go?” Jill asked walking outside as (Y/N) nodded. “Did you have a nice conversation with Jensen? You two were talking for a long time.” She stared out the window of Jill’s car and sighed. “Yeah, he’s super nice like everyone always says he is. Even if I hated going to the party it was well worth it to meet and talk with Jensen Ackles.” Jill laughed as she continued towards (Y/N)’s apartment. That night (Y/N)’s dreams were filled of husky laughter and bright olive eyes staring at her.

It had been a couple of weeks since the Halloween party and the chill of November had invaded Vancouver. (Y/N) was still kicking herself for turning down Jensen. She would reason with herself that it was for the best. She stood in front of her mirror in her bra and panties poking at her love handles that no one loved and her round belly. “Seriously, why in the world would Jensen Ackles ever want someone like me.” She muttered as she pulled out a pair of jeans and a graphic tee to wear for the day. As soon as she sat down to work her phone buzzed with a text from a number she did not recognize. Cautiously she pulled up the message a small gasp escaping her lips seeing who it was. “Hey (Y/N) it’s Jensen, I hope you don’t mind I asked Jill for your number. I wanted to try one more time to ask you out to dinner. I rarely meet a gorgeous woman who doesn’t freak out and I really enjoy talking with you. Hope to hear from you soon.” She closed the message and called Jill immediately.

“Hey (Y/N/N), what’s up?” Her best friend answered. “Oh, I think you know what’s up. You gave Jensen freaking Ackles my phone number?!” she exclaimed as she her Jill giggling. “Um, yes I did and you’re welcome. You really made an impression on him and I about choked on soda hearing you turned him down when he asked you out. Are you crazy?” (Y/N) was now rubbing her forehead and growling softly. “Jill, look at him and then look at me. He belongs with someone who looks like you who he could proudly show off on the red carpet. Not some fat nerd girl who reads comics for a living.” She could hear Jill shutting a door and then came her stern but loving voice. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N), stop putting yourself down. So, what if you’re a size twenty-two and others are a size two or twelve. The only thing that you should focus on is the fact that Jensen Ackles asked YOU out. He didn’t ask the gorgeous actress or model out that he talked with at that party. He didn’t sit outside all night with the reporter who gave him her number. He never even gave those other women a second thought but he did with you. If you ask me I think that is worth going out on one date with him to see where things go.”

(Y/N) knew Jill was right but it did not get rid of the nagging feeling that it was all a set up for failure and heartache. “I know you’re right. I can’t help to think he will see one of those other women and then I’m just a fleeting lapse in judgment. Then he leaves and I’m left with all these feelings to deal with by myself.” Jill took a deep breath before speaking. “First, life is all about chances. You won’t know what will happen until you try. Second, and most important, you are never alone. I am always here for you with a pint of ice cream and darts to through at pictures of his beautiful face.” (Y/N) laughed and Jill was called onto to set ending their conversation. (Y/N) reread Jensen’s message several times before finally replying back to him.

Jensen and (Y/N) texted one another throughout the week leading up to their date that Saturday night. Never before had she been able to talk to someone so easily. Sometimes they would talk about what he had filmed that day without giving her too many spoilers. He would ask her about what comics she was reading and she would even send him links to her reviews. She had always heard stories from other fans how amazingly sweet he was but he was more than that. He genuinely cared about people which made him a rare human being in a world filled with hateful people. She stood in her closet looking over her clothes trying to decide what to wear. All he told her about their date, was to wear her favorite outfit. She pulled out her favorite jeans that fit around her curvy hips without giving her muffin top. Next, she grabbed her favorite graphic tee that was green and had a girl with glasses on it saying, ‘Geek Chic’ that was loose but still showed off her figure nicely.

She slipped on her favorite Converse shoes wiggling her feet happily deciding to keep her make-up simple and put her long (Y/H/C) hair in a messy bun. Giving herself a once over she nodded happily grabbing her purse and keys. hearing a knock on her door. Her stomach started churning as she walked up placing her hand on the handle. Taking a deep breath, she opened her door taking in the sight before her. She giggled, “Did these flowers come with my date?” Jensen lowered the bouquet of mix matched flowers revealing his brilliant smile. “Sure did!” She giggled as he gave her his famous Ackles cheesy smile. She took the flowers from him and invited him in. (Y/N) went into her kitchen to get a vase for the flowers. She glanced over seeing Jensen leaning casually against her door watching her every move. She placed the flowers on her breakfast bar making her way back to him, “Alright I’m all ready for this surprise date you have planned.” He chuckled holding out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and he laced their fingers together.

She started laughing as Jensen pulled into a local bowling alley. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked as he nodded excitedly. “Do you know how long it has been since I’ve been bowling or since I’ve been on a date? I don’t know what they kids are doing these days when they go out on dates.” (Y/N)’s stomach was hurting from laughing as they got out of the car. They grabbed their shoes and found bowling balls making their way to their lane. Jensen typed in their names and she gave him a pointed look, “Jay and Gorgeous?” she asked. He nodded proudly as she rolled her eyes. A few frames in and (Y/N) was kicking his butt already as she went up to bowl getting a strike. “Whoo! Great job!” he cheered as she high fived him and she felt him trail his fingers down her arm as he walked up to bowl. (Y/N) was watching him line up his shot admiring his backside.

He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a solid blue button-down shirt that showed off all the muscles in his back as he threw the ball. This time he knocked all but the ten pin down. She walked over to him as he waited for his ball to return. “You want to stand opposite of the side the pin in on and throw your ball across the lane.” She explained as he grabbed his bowling ball, “Show me.” He grabbed her hand placing it on his narrow waist. She swallowed hard feeling his hip bones and positioned him correctly. He looked back at her questioningly as she nodded. He walked up throwing his ball and perfectly hit the ten pin down. He turned around throwing his arms in the air cheering. He rushed over to her and picked her up swinging her around. “I got it! I got it!” he shouted repeatedly as she laughed. “Great job Jensen.” He put her down bringing his hands down to rest on her hips, “Only because of your great teaching. How are you so good at this?” She smiled placing her hands on his forearms, “I bowled a lot. Pretty much from age seven until I was twenty-five. I competed in tournaments and won a few.” He stared down at her in amazement, “Is there anything you can’t do?” He asked swaying her slightly back and forth. “Cooking, horrible at it.” Jensen laughed as he let her go so she could bowl.

As they were putting their shoes on a few girls came up nervously to Jensen. “Hey there ladies.” He said as (Y/N) watched in amazement how he went from regular guy to famous actor. (Y/N) offered to take their picture for them as he stood smiling between the two girls. They said thanks walking off as Jensen grabbed (Y/N)’s hand walking up to the desk so they returned their shoes. As Jensen was paying, (Y/N)’s phone buzzed with a notification from Tumblr. One of her online friends had tagged her in a post. “@winchestergrl67 Is this you?” (Y/N) looked at the picture of her and Jensen standing there after he hit the ten pin. She smiled seeing the way he was looking down at her and holding her close. Then she read the caption and her heart dropped. “Jensen Ackles taking pity on larger (hehe) than life fan. Wonder what contest she won to go bowling with Jensen. That is the only way a girl like that would ever be able to be with a man like Jensen.” She looked back up at the picture now noticing every imperfection she had compared to how truly perfect Jensen was. She felt his strong arm come around her shoulders and she unintentionally flinched. “Everything okay?” he asked as she willed the tears blurring her vision would not fall in front him. “Uh, yeah. Ever-Everything is fine.” Her voiced cracked slightly and he turned her to face him.

“What is it? You look as if you could cry right now.” She shook her head as her stomach was doing backflips. “I’m not feeling too well suddenly. Could you take me home, please?” She looked down at her feet as he ran his large hands down her arms making her skin crawl wishing her could just disappear. “Sure, come on.” He said concern filling his voice and as he put a protective arm around her the urge to run away from his touch was overwhelming. As they got into his car, she pulled out her phone looking at the post again. It was being reblogged by so many people now and the need to bury herself under her blanket at home was great. He had not started the car yet and was looking at her when she glanced over. “(Y/N), tell me the truth. What is wrong?” he asked and she could not keep the dam from bursting. She handed him the phone as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Look, I’ve always been a big girl and being teased comes with the territory. Really, they didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before. It’s not even that bad honestly, but I’m just not used to seeing it on social media for the world to see.” She looked over to him to see concern and anger filtering his face.

Quickly she looked away and said, “You don’t deserve to have any kind of bad publicity even if you are not the one at the center of it. You should be seen with models and actresses in your arms not someone like me. Whatever this is between us you should just forget about it.” Guilt filtered throughout her mind. She was the one to blame for all of this for allowing the date to even happen and now it effected Jensen making her guilt double within her. (Y/N) looked up suddenly when she heard him get out of the car and watched as he walked around to her side opening the door. He took her hand helping her out of the car and immediately pulled her into a soul crushing hug. “I am so sorry for what they said. They have no right to judge you based on your looks. Which, by the way, are beautiful. You are beautiful and that is what made me grab a beer for you. I wanted an excuse to come up and talk with you but I really didn’t know a good ice breaker.” She scoffed as he pulled back slightly. He brought his hands on either side of her face as his thumbs slipped up under her glasses wiping away the falling tears. “I think, ‘Hi, I’m Jensen Ackles’ would have worked fine.” He chuckled pulling her against his chest again.

“(Y/N), I’ve dated actresses and models before. None of them could even compare to you in appearance or you as a person. You are brilliantly witty, incredibly smart and…” he paused as he brought his hands down her sides slowly. She tried not to cringe as his hands went over every love handle she had and then she looked up at him a small quiet gasp escaping her lips. He was biting his lower lip and his eyes were dark with wanting. “You are by far the sexiest woman I have ever seen. I don’t care that you are bigger than other girls because this,” He gripped her hips tightly, “is what I want.” She took a deep breath pushing all her insecurities, all her fear of letting go and allowing herself to feel what she wanted too down. She brought her hands up to his shoulders running them up behind his neck into his soft hair. He shut his eyes and hummed pleasingly at her touch then she leaned up pressing her lips to his.

First, the kiss was gently and simple quickly turning into more as he pinned her against the car. His hands traveling needlingly over her body as she raked her fingers through his hair. He took her bottom lip gently between his teeth earning a small moan from her. Deepening their kiss for a moment he literally took her breath away and they both pulled away panting slightly. He rested his forehead against hers then began kissing her all over her face and neck making her giggle. “Well, Mr. Ackles you should do know how to make a big girl feel better.” He nipped at her neck as she yelped, “I think you mean, I know how to make a GIRL feel better. I don’t see big or small, I just see someone who hurt someone I care about. Speaking of which, I think we should take care of that right now.”

She looked up at his devious smirk nervously, “Oh, I’m scared now. How so?” she asked timidly. He grabbed her hand pulling her in front of the bowling alley and pulled out his phone. He pulled up his camera putting it in selfie mode then pulled her to him with his free hand. He took a picture of them smiling in front of the bowling alley and then one of him kissing her cheek. He sent both to her and then posted both to his Instagram linking it to his Twitter account as well. Her phone buzzed once he had posted it as he chuckled looking over her shoulder as she read it out loud. “Had an amazing date with this gorgeous woman @winchestergrl67 (more like AcklesGrl now, don’t ya think?” She started laughing as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist. “Just one more thing and we need your phone for it.” He said as she handed him her phone. He pulled up her camera switching it to video mode pointing it at them. “Oh god…” she whispered before he hit record.

“Hey everyone, Jensen here. I just wanted to take a moment to say that being a single guy is hard. It’s hard to go up to a gorgeous woman, talk to her and then convince her to go out on a date. I have a crazy life that most woman are scared off by and that can make life kind of lonely. Whenever I am able to convince an incredibly smart and talented lady to go on a date, like going bowling, I would appreciate it if people would not make comments about it. Someone posted a picture of us tonight that they didn’t ask to take and said some not so nice things about (Y/N).” He paused for a moment looking down at her smiling at her as she felt her face burning. “I know I live in the public eye and people aren’t always going to be nice but you should not make comments about someone you don’t even know. If this particular person would have come up asking for a photo and talked with us they would have realized how amazing the woman next to me is. As long as everyone keeps their comments nice then I’m good with sharing my life with y’all. However, the moment you start attacking people I care for then I can’t open up to everyone like I do. So, let’s keep it all friendly and spread the love. Thanks, y’all and see you soon!” He ended the video by kissing (Y/N) on the cheek and then took her phone where she couldn’t see it.

“What are you doing, Jensen?” she asked as he looked down at her phone his face scrunched up in concentration. “How do you work this app? I’m horrible at social media and usually Jared helps me.” He said as she laughed seeing he could not figure out Tumblr. “You want to post that video on my Tumblr page?” He nodded smiling as she leaned up kissing his cheek. “That’s sweet but you don’t have to do that.” He puckered his lips thinking, “I know I don’t have too. I want too. Unless you are embarrassed of being out with me because I would totally get it if you were.” She gawked at him for a moment asking, “Seriously?!” He nodded as she took her phone from him. She turned away from him as she created a post. He tried to look at her phone as she was typing but she gently pushed him away. He scoffed as he stood there pouting. She looked up at him smiling, “Done.” He wiggled his fingers wanting her phone back, “Let me see.” She shook her head sticking her phone in her back pocket. “You wanna see then have Jared help you create a Tumblr account.”

He narrowed his gorgeous green eyes at her and lunged for her. She squealed as his hands went over her sides traveling down to her butt, “Give the phone gorgeous.” He said as she held her hand over her pocket. “No way pretty boy! Get your own account and then you can see the post.” He stopped suddenly smiling as her giggling died down. He leaned down kissing her, “Okay, just means I’ll be able to see everything you post about me on there.” Her eyes snapped up at his, “Crap.” She was sure his laughter could be heard in the bowling alley. Once they were back at her apartment, he insisted on walking up her up to her apartment. She leaned against her door as he kissed her goodnight. “So, what are my chances of convincing you to go out on a second date with me?” She looked up at him biting her lower lip seeing nervousness in his eyes. She smiled up at him, “I’d say your chances are pretty good. Jensen, thank you for everything tonight. You could have just dismissed my feelings and told me I was overreacting. I appreciate you being so understanding.”

He kissed her once more, “Well, someone once told me a long time ago that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. My eyes happen to think you are beautiful, (Y/N).” They said goodnight and she watched him walk down the hall out of sight. As she closed her door she leaned against it sighing happily. The next morning, she glanced at her phone seeing a notification of a new follower on her Tumblr account. Pulling up the app she looked at the handle instantly smiling. “@eyeofthebeholder is now following winchestergrl67” That is when she noticed all the notifications of Jensen liking several things she had posted including the video he had taken. “@winchestergrl67 <3” he simply commented on it. Then a text popped up from him, “Good morning gorgeous. Hope you enjoy all the Tumblr notifications when you woke up. I have today off so my plan is to binge read through your Masterlist unless you can think of some other way to entertain me. LOL” Her eyes went wide as the thought of Jensen reading her fanfiction terrified her, “Crap.” She whispered texting him back immediately.  

My Nerd Herd: @carryonmywaywardcaptain @waywardrose13 @anotherwaywardsister @ladywinchester1967 @waywardbaby @dwgrl1903

[iliamo]

In the Middle of the Night - HWD Secret Spectre 2018

hello i’m super late aaaaa this was way longer than expected

this is for secret spectres at @hwdevents​ in the hetalia writer’s discord

this is a fic for @d-joana-a-shippadora​, who i must thank because her request and prompt was hella fun to do and i hope y’all enjoy it

oz and kiwi are in it woohoo

(AO3 link thingy)

---

As Australia is stifling a yawn as he walks outside of the Heathrow Airport, New Zealand is next to him on the phone.

England was supposed to pick them up an hour ago. Instead, a middle-aged driver arrives and delivers an apology from England himself. He introduces himself as Robert and explains that England was busy with some government officials.

Once they are inside the vehicle, New Zealand calls England and after hanging up he explains: England is busier than expected and couldn't finish on time. He would arrive at the old house tomorrow at noon instead. The house now has Wi-Fi and some houseworkers left the place ready for them.

 Australia mouths an 'oh well' and looks out the window. 

 - - -

After a brief detour at Tesco because Australia wanted some beer and 'whatever England keeps at the old place ain't gonna be enough', they keep their route to the old house.

The place, located in the English countryside, is an old mansion where England brought both of them as children back in the day, usually to ease them in before going to the busier cities like London.

Australia can't say he is particularly fond of the place. Most good memories seem marred by England's stuffiness. When Australia wasn't outside playing on the trees and bushes, much to England's annoyance, he was inside being scolded for not behaving like a proper gentleman (the word colony was not said out loud, but its presence was very much felt).

Perhaps England thought the familiarity would make the reunion better.

It all disappears from Australia's head once the front of the mansion became visible. 

- - -

Despite the fact the last time they were inside the house was during the tail end of World War II, the place looks nearly the same as when they were children.

The rooms are large and filled with furniture over a hundred years old. If it weren't for the lights, some frames with photographs taken at recent conferences, and a couple of modern books mixed with old ones on the bookshelves, Australia would think he was being transported to the 19th century.

He and New Zealand go upstairs to the guest rooms to unpack. On the way there, he remembers the second door to the right and exclaims:

"Hey, Kiwi! 'member the cool place were the old man kept all the medieval swords 'n stuff?"

New Zealand is just turning his head when Australia is already opening the door.

Both enter and find a small room filled with all sorts of medieval memorabilia. The walls are decorated with swords, maces, and daggers; meanwhile, a large glass display contains assorted jewelry and tattered clothes.

New Zealand is staring at some medieval daggers on one wall when he hears the sound of metal against leather and turns around to see Australia unsheathing an old sword and doing a bad job of swinging it.

"Look at me, mate! Betcha I look like more badass than those dudes from Lord of the Rings!"

New Zealand tries to hold back a laugh, but it ends up sounding like a mix of a snort and choking. He smiles and answers.

"Dunno, Oz. I'd say it looks more like a kid who just discovered LARPing or Skyrim."

(He does find Australia's pout both funny and adorable at the same time, but keeps that to himself. Besides, no one disses Lord of the Rings under his watch.)

After that, they leave their luggage in the guest rooms and go back downstairs. Australia is stretching his limbs while fighting back jetlag-induced drowsiness. New Zealand, on the other hand, is in the kitchen with the coffee maker.

New Zealand pours himself a cup and walks to the dining room. At that time, he sees Australia going back to the mansion's entrance as if trying to leave already.

"Going out already?"

Although he can't see Australia at this point, he can him opening the front door and yelling back at him:

"I need some fresh air. Save some beer for me, 'kay? Be back in an hour or two."

New Zealand hears the door close and sits down, pulls out his phone and starts checking his e-mail.

- - -

Australia might not exactly be England's biggest fan, but he can admit that he loves the view of the countryside. It's nowhere near as beautiful and liberating as a summer drive in the Outback, but he'll take it.

He walks around and climbs a large tree. The forest is so large that he can't see any town or house nearby aside from the old place. The sunset is coming and the sky slowly darkens as the night make its arrival. Australia basks in the view and, as he gets ready to climb back down, he sees little dots of light on lower branches of the trees.

Once he touches the ground, he decides to follow along. 

"Damn! Kiwi's gonna miss this for bein' on the bloody phone all day."

Just as Australia is about to reach for his phone inside his pants pocket for a picture, he sees a couple of strange lights in the distance. Their glow is a bit faint, but their size is larger than the lights made of glow worms and that piques his interest.

He follows them, even though he hardly notices the fact they never seem to become closer. Slowly, more strange lights start to pop up, accompanied by a soft and barely audible jingling noise.

He stops in tracks when he finds a large circle of mushrooms on the grass. At the center of it there's a small light. He enters the circle and, as he slowly gets closer, he could swear the light is a fairy or something of the sort. When he reaches his hand to touch it, the light quickly moves away and disappears. 

Before he realizes it, his mind is covered in a strange fog that gradually fades away and sends him back to the 1800's.

A young Australia gasps in childlike wonder to his surrounding while, unbeknownst to him, giggles and screams roar on his back.

- - -

New Zealand, after finishing his second cup of coffee, gets bored with the house and decides to go out for some fresh air.

 By now, the sky is dark and dotted with stars. The glow worms have started to do their thing and the trees and bushes.

Curious, he decided to follow the lights. Not long after, he notices that the lights are increasing in number and brightness. A few meters away he notices Australia's silhouette. New Zealand would leave him alone most days, but considering that both are jetlagged as all hell and they have to be awake the next day before noon, he decided to yell at him.

"Oz, hey! Aren't you coming back for sleep? At least for a beer?"

Australia doesn't seem to hear him and keeps walking forward. The lights seem to gather and dance around him. What catches New Zealand's attention as he gets closer is that the lights seem to make strange noises, like a mix of jingle bells and high-pitched giggles.

"Australia!"

The lights get closer and closer to Australia, to the point that New Zealand can't see him anymore. He tries to get closer, and the noise is starting to become louder.

"Oz! What are you doing!?"

Just as he reaches the mushroom circle, the lights form a wall and refuse to let New Zealand in. He can hear many voices yelling at him.

"Leave!"

"He is our friend!"

At this moment is when New Zealand realizes that the lights speaking to him are, in fact, fairies (who knew those were real!). Unsure of what to do, he decides to reason with them.

"Um... Look, I don't know if he told you anything, but he and I are friends. We grew up together... for the most part. He and I were just on our way home and-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish as the fairies interrupt him, all of them screaming over each other.

"But he is in our territory!"

"Yes! That means he is ours now."

"He has to stay here until midnight!"

New Zealand has trouble hearing what they are all saying, but he does manage to hear the last part.

"Wait, wait, wait. The hell you meant by midnight?"

The fairies start to giggle among themselves. New Zealand is not sure if it is innocent or malicious, but he does not like where things are going.

"He has to stay here!"

"When the moon reaches the highest point, he will become one of us!"

They don't really explain a lot, but New Zealand is able to gather that if Australia will be in trouble if he stays there. He tries to get closer when the fairies hiss in fury and touch his arm. It feels as if one thousand bees have stung him and he pulls back in pain.

No matter how much he tries, they do not let him get any closer. After pondering for a few moments about what he should do, an idea begins to creep in. It is not very elegant, but it seems to be his only option.

As he goes back to the mansion, he hopes that Australia may still be there once he comes back. 

- - -

New Zealand nearly trips twice as he runs back to the house. The clock in the foyer proudly displays that it is 11:05 pm. New Zealand is one-hundred percent sure that there's no way time could have gone by that quickly. He decides to blame the fairies and climbs the staircase two steps at a time.

He enters England's old memorabilia room and searches the walls for a weapon that can help him.

For once in his life, he is grateful for listening to England's stories as a kid (against his will, in all fairness, but now is not the moment to mull over that). His eyes find just what he needs: an old and rusted iron dagger, probably used by England before the medieval times. 

He picks it up and feels it in his hand. In all honesty, he isn't sure it is going to be that useful. The blade is dull and incapable of even making a slight cut. The handle and the blade feel so old and brittle that New Zealand is certain that the dagger will break apart the moment it collides with something. Considering that it is the only weapon in the room made of completely of iron and he has less than an hour left before it is too late for Australia, he hopes it is good enough and firmly holds it before leaving the mansion and running back into the woods.

- - -

New Zealand's legs are about to give out when he reaches the fairy portal in the grass. The fairies feel his presence and gather in front of the mushrooms in order to not let him in.

The bells and the screams are so loud that New Zealand nearly covers his ears in pain. He decides against it and opts to brandish the dagger in front of them, adjusting his posture to look stronger and more intimidating than how he usually looks like.

Upon looking at the dagger, the fairies hiss in disgust and try to avoid it while still protecting their home and Australia inside of it.

"Let me in," New Zealand demands.

They don't respond, but stay in their place, which makes their response sell evident. New Zealand walks in closer to the circle, dagger in front of him at all time and holding it with the tightest grip he can manage. They don't even try to attack him and he's glad for it, as he is not sure the dagger is in any condition for combat.

"I just want him back, " his voice is loud, but firm, "let me in."

The fairies move away from the dagger, and thus create a way for him to enter their realm. The inside looks nearly the same as the regular woods, except for a strange air the permeates the place with an aura New Zealand can't really fully comprehend, and Australia, who is kneeling down next to a bush and staring at it with a mixture of wonder and reverence.

"Oz, come on. Let's go back."

It doesn't seem like Australia is ignoring him on purpose, but more like he doesn't seem to be aware that New Zealand is talking next to him.

New Zealand kneels down as well and looks at him. Australia's eyes are glassy and don't even seem to be really looking at the bush, but rather at something inside his head, as if in a trance.

New Zealand pats him on the shoulder and to talk to him again.

"Australia, we have to go. Now."

No response.

"Australia, please! We can't stay here!"

Australia's lack of response worries New Zealand to the point that doesn't even notice the fact that he's screaming and gripping Australia's shoulders so hard to the point of bruising.

- - -

Australia sits on his knees as he intently observes a row of ants going in its merry way. 

He was eating dinner with England inside the mansion. He would have stayed there, except that he became fed up after England slapped his hand for the third time that night: once for chewing with the mouth open and twice for not picking the right fork when at the dinner table.

"....ia..."

He hears a faint voice in the distance but, assuming it to be England's, decides to ignore it.

"...alia... wa.... up"

The voice is increasing in volume, albeit not by much. At the very least, Australia can now tell it's not England speaking. Who could it be?

"...wa... up!"

He gets up, brushes dirt off his pants and looks around to find a small silhouette in the distance on the way to the mansion. India and Canada are too big for that, he's sure. He squints his eyes and manages to see a familiar hairstyle.

"Oi, Zee! What are you doing over there!?" he yells back.

New Zealand does not move. The voice is becoming louder and clearer.

"Wake up! We have to go now!"

He is sure that's not New Zealand's voice, he is way higher-pitched, especially when yelling.

"Can you hear that voice too, mate?"

For some strange reason, even though he can't pinpoint the owner of that voice, he can't help but feel a strong sense of familiarity, as if he had heard it before.

At that moment, New Zealand begins to run in his direction while the voice keeps repeating the same phrases over and over. The trees seem to blur together and he feels heavy on the head.

As New Zealand gets closer, Australia notices that he doesn't look as young as he should be. New Zealand seems taller and more fit, even if the hair is the same. 

Australia doesn't know what to do when New Zealand sits down next to him, smiles, and offers his hand...

"Come on Oz, we have to go back."

... but he takes it.

- - -

In that precise moment, Australia is startled awake and looks at his surroundings in confusion.

"Wha..?"

In front of him is New Zealand, who has a death grip on his shoulders (it's starting to hurt, even) and his face can only be described as smiling in relief.

"You're back!"

Without thinking, New Zealand is hugging Australia, not caring about anything else other than he made it in time.

Behind them, the fairies scream in anger.

"Kiwi, what's goin' on?" says Australia as he points at them, still a bit disoriented.

New Zealand shows Australia the dagger he's holding and says:

"Just hold this with me and let's get out of here."

The fairies scream and cry to no avail, powerless to do anything else. The noise slowly fades away as the return to the old place.

Once both enter the house, they collapse onto the sofa in the living room, jetlag and exhaustion making their grand comeback.

"Can you now tell me what just happened?"

New Zealand leaves the dagger at a small table and rubs his incoming headache as he tries to think of the best way to explain everything.

"You wandered into a fairy realm and almost became trapped there forever."

"And the knife?"

"England's. It's a long story."

Australia doesn't seem satisfied with his answers, but decides to not ask any further. He takes a few deep breaths and says:

"Kiwi?"

"Yeah?

"Thanks, mate."

New Zealand smiles as both enter the world of sleep.

The next day, at noon, England arrives and finds both of them sleeping on the sofa and embracing each other.

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff ~ Seven of the Season: MLP Season 8 Part I

WARNING: Do not offer me a popsicle; I’m not much a fan of them anymore. I don’t know why, really. Thank you, take care out there, and enjoy.

Since it’s on hiatus until....August, it seems (confusingly lame), wanted to look back on this current season so far since it legitimately has been almost 8 years and I’m still watching this show. Not that that’s a bad thing, but unlike Adventure Time or Archer, it doesn’t feel like it’s aged all that majorly. And really, I wanna commemorate that. Due note part 2 will be for the entire season; to kinda ease my options in the end. So here be the Top 7 BEST Episodes of the first arc of season. Seven, because it’s lucky, baby. Here we go…

7. Grannies Gone Wild

Don’t look up ‘Grannies Gone Wild’ on Google Images. Not even safesearch is safe from the bizarre shit you might find. As for the safe for work version, it feels like a ‘standard’ episode, where Rainbow’s trying to keep the apple grannies safe from hurting themselves while trying to get on a rollercoaster on its last day. Though what makes this funny is that while you could think that Rainbow Dash is at fault for biting off more than she chew, it’s really Applejack’s fault for being such an enabling overprotective mook. Seriously, everybody agrees in the episode that it’s Applejack’s fault. What makes it even funnier and put this on the list are the grannies themselves, since they remind me a lot of my grandparents (may they rest) and have no time for Rainbow’s shit throughout. While it’s low on the list for its conventionality, I still enjoyed it for what it was. Especially since this joke will forever be associated with it

6. Marks For Effort

Preferentially, hating on the character Cozy Glow like I’m Alex Jones for how suspicious she acted kept me going for this episode. As such, it’s surprising to say that this was a great episode for the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Even when they don’t achieve much in the end, they have an honest goal in mind and it didn’t feel far fetched, and they band well together in teaching the Wooby friendship. Unlike their other episode this season, it never felt like they had to get in each other’s way to achieve something together. It felt like they were earning their endgame, which made it bizarre that Cozy would just sabotage her test to help them out. I mean honestly what purpose did that stand beside giving Starlight a chance to--Oooooh ho ho. DHX, you clever bastards, you wanted to make me feel for Starlight having little to her name now as the school counselor. Mmmmmhmmm, not falling for it. In any case, stopped for the Cozy Glow hatin’, seriously I’m gonna stone that wooby, stayed for the quality time with the CMC. As for you, Starlight, come back when you’re a main character.

5. The Mean Six

This was honestly a surprising episode based on how nothing and everything happened in the span of 22 minutes. Chrysalis returned, offering the most charmingly hammy performance to date. And while her plan to get the elements of harmony fails tremendously, and never really started to be honest, it was fascinating to see that she could’ve been indirectly responsible for breaking apart the mane six. If the show didn’t have to fall under the status quo, this would’ve actually been a clever way of presenting a fallout arc for the characters while Chrysalis is unaware of this, thinking she still needs to plot their downfall. The mean six, or Negagangers, were utilized much better here than when Discord tried this in season 2. And somehow I actually felt for Starlight getting the short end of the stick (maybe that was because she wasn’t the one who brought everyone together in the end, but who knows). The only downside is that, if you’ve seen this show plenty of times, you know what’s gonna happen and it lacks the specialty. Though it does make up for its reasonable message, the Archer-esque way the characters play off each other, and that ending scene where the Negagangers having their faces melted is the 2nd most metal thing this show has done. And no, I’m not gonna show that, for I’d like more dreams than nightmares.

4. The Break Up Breakdown

This at first felt like a conventional Valentine’s day episode (in May) with it all just amounting to misunderstandings.... made even crazier when it involves Big Mac accidentally giving a child his romantic gift, eavesdropping on his lover, said lover getting dirty, and Discord taking Big Mac and a child dragon to a swinger’s club, all to get back to LARPing. And honestly, that is what elevated this episode, crazy shit happens and it’s not so much Discord’s fault, though he is essentially what makes this episode work so well with the fact that he cares for none of this yet is on top in the end (phrasing). Plus my heart did skip a beat when Big Mac and Sugar Belle reconciled in the end, giving me memories of the good rom coms of yore like Moonstruck and Muriel’s Wedding, except without the ABBA. And again, Discord nonchalant attitude toward everyone else’s lovestruck ideals of Valentines with his newfound obsession with D&D kept this entertaining and worth coming back. 

3. The Maud Couple

As it is unfortunate that Maud’s new boyfriend will forever be named Mud Fuckstick, Fuckstick is honestly the best character in this episode and just makes this episode so entertaining; especially on the grounds that he does little to nothing else to jumpstart the plot beyond being around and being methodical with his wordplay. The fact that Pinkie is legitimately fuming at Fuckstick potentially taking her sister away is ironically hilarious. Episode would’ve been higher up if not for that one scene of Pinkie screaming her head off for 4 seconds. I don’t mind Pinkie spazzing out, but those 4 seconds was a screeching convulsion, like christ. Plus, I realized something: Pinkie can be really selfish and mostly cares about the idea of caring for others’ feelings and use the self esteem she gets as a coping mechanism for her own depression. Really, that hits pretty close to home in some aspects because you want people to be happy because that makes you happy, but when some crucial sacrifices are required from you, it can be really hard to swallow that you probably won’t be happy about it the whole time, and putting up with it will feel like as terrible an uphill battle as the thought of not doing anything.................................heheheh, Bazonger!

2. Fake it ‘Til You Make It

Honestly, this episode is great solely because Fluttershy is great in this. It’s a titch bias since Fluttyshy’s been one of my favs since the beginning, but this episode showcases my love for her in a way. The fact that she had to put up and bullshit her way through customers’ wants and complaints were relatable enough, but seeing her actual warp her personality through her many changes to the point where she actually comes off as threatening was....somewhat moving for this show. She essentially became an antagonist for a few moments and it never felt like her change was sorely out of the blue. Her other personalities were funny (unsurprisingly ‘Gothishy’ came out as my favorite), her raccoon fam were a valuable addition to the character dynamic, and while Rarity is generally at fault for making Fluttershy go through all that in a short matter of time, her resolve in the end was direct and empathetic as well. Also it gets point for Fluttershy saying ‘Woke’, snowflake cutie mark goth pony, and having a pretty solid message in the end.

Honorable mentions: Non Compete Clause, School Daze (Part 2)

1. Horse Play (Phrasing)

I’ll be real, I shouldn’t think this episode is great. Generally because the main character isn’t great in this. Twilight is so stubborn in this, it felt out of character. The answer was obvious, they remind us over and over again, but Twilight continuously ignored all that because of her apparent bottomless admiration for Princess Celestia? This far in the show? It is unforgivable, and annoying no doubt. It felt like she was purposefully sabotaging her own ideas after already acknowledging that Princess Celestia has performance issues, not to mention her friends trying and failing to get the stage upright. After basically being friends with Celestia for this long, it shouldn’t have been that fucking hard to be honest with her, and not treating her as if she doesn’t have a flawless bone in her body! So basically Twilight was the least favorite part of this episode and she really bogged it down a notch. But how is this #1? It’s fun. Celestia was having fun, we get to see her be ecstatic, quirky, LIVELY again for more than a few seconds. The cast was fun, reminding me of other episodes where everyone was together trying their best to not screw up too badly (see Saddle Row Review). Spike was on his sass A game. And the final act when Celestia took over made for the best ending of this season; her helping Fluttershy build confidence was a definite highlight of this series as a whole. Even the leaked version of this episode with it having no music and stock sound effects was the most fun I had with this season. It was fun. Can’t say much more.

This season didn’t so much offer its best in my eyes. The seven of this first part of the season were the seven only good ones, with the remaining ranging from boring to just pathetic. However, I will say that after this long, I say they can still pull off some wonderful episodes, on the initial and look back, so I’m certainly not counting them out just yet. And with that, I’m Roy Macintosh, and that’s all I got.

[deathbyvalentine]

LARP Prompts (TW for drug mentions, suicide ideation.)

Blue Lights

She sat cross-legged, night dress pooling around her, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak protecting her from the biting cold. A candle flickered beside her, jumping and flickering. On her lap was a leather bound book, spread open, pages worn from years of use. She stared, fascinated, trailing a finger along the winding words.

The book was her grandfather’s, who had been married to a priest. It was the only book that wasn’t about flowers or animals in the entire household. It was about saints. They were illustrated in bright colours, shining yellows and deep blues. They either looked serene, eyes closed, smiles painted on or in agony, being licked by flames or eaten by dogs. Scarcely any had long lives. The darkness in the world always wanted to snuff them out. 

They kept coming back to one illustration. A woman lying in her soon-to-be-tomb, auburn hair spread across a pillow, eyes peacefully shut. A blue glow surrounded her, banishing the shadows into corners. It looked like the safest place in the world. Temperance had never even heard of blue light appearing anywhere near here. Nowhere was holy enough. 

She wondered if she looked a little like her, though truth be told her hair was a shade darker than auburn, her lips too full, her skin too sickly looking. And she wasn’t destined to have any great adventures or grand deeds. She was stuck here, in this bed, too weak to do anything at all. Her illness didn’t just rob her health, it robbed her potential, her ability to serve the Church. Saints didn’t just pray. They did other things too.

With a huff of frustration, she blew out the candle and shut the book with a sharp snap. She would dream of sunrises that night.

Astrid + Syn Row

Astrid stood in the centre of the room, clasping her hands to her chest, eyes filling up with tears. She always looked so small like this, her shoulders sloping inwards, trembling just a little. Who knew if she did it on purpose or not. She always managed to work herself up so easily, it scarcely mattered if it was intentional. Whatever she felt, she felt deeply. Even if it was irrational.

The drugs probably didn’t help.

With shaking hands, she lit a cigarette, managing to look utterly plaintive. Always the innocent victim, never the aggravator. It was a skill really. She sat down on the edge of the battered sofa, flicking a strand of pink hair over her shoulder. “I just don’t understand.” “How can you not understand? You cheated on me!” “Yes, but I didn’t mean to.” The mind truly fucking boggled at that, and it was impressive that Syn didn’t leave right there.  “How even - “  “I was drunk! And you know what I’m like - “ Flirty. Flaky. Forgetful. Ditsy. Innocent. Completely absent minded. And utterly impossible to reason with. She would never understand why people were angry at her, or how actions had consequences. She drifted through life, utterly surprised when bad things happened to her. Never learning. Syn looked at her, shaking her head. Astrid stood, putting out her cigarette on a plate and wrapping her arms around Syn. They weren’t shrugged off. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I promise.” Syn almost believed her.

Sanctum - Sacrifice

Axis had nothing to give. 

All he had were the clothes on his back and himself. And neither of those things were worth much in particular. His blood had been spilt on too many city corners, his spit on too many beer bottles, his hair tugged out in more than one fight. And his mind? In pieces. Memories lost in a haze of drugs, childhood mostly repressed, fractured morality... You name it, Axis had lost it or broke it. 

Maybe that’s why all he had left to sacrifice was his life. In every ritual he gave away a day, a week, a year. It didn’t matter particularly. When you didn’t know or care exactly when you would die, it was easy. Like giving away an abstract concept rather than anything to do with you. 

Then, now he supposed, he was giving away chunks of himself. His personality, his compass, his feelings. He never had the strongest sense of self anyway, and when he did, rarely liked himself. Let’s see who he could be with bits of him missing. Maybe he’d be happier. Maybe he wouldn’t. Either way it’s a new type of bullshit. And even that seemed appealing after twenty years of his own.

Empire - Lullaby

The first death he had watched over in his Nation. Deaths happened all the time of course, every second he could feel someone somewhere perish, but this was different. This was real and brutal and right in front of him. Mattias had thus far lived quite a sheltered life. His parador had moved whenever conflict came to the region his family were staying in. And he had never had to fight. Or starve. Or struggle. Everything had been so easy.

Safiye had been one of the first friends he had made in Anvil, and now she was dying in his arms.

The curse of being the Brass Coast was the intensity. He felt every paper cut as if it was a sword blow. Joy and sorrow in equal measure, each as debilitating. He loved like an ocean, wild and expansive. His grief consumed him as much as his desire to celebrate everything she had done.

He kept his voice steady as he stroked her hair, letting the flame inside him burn bright but low. He joked with her, wanting her final moments to be joyful, not mournful. He poured liao to her lips and to her own, making sure her testimony and her spirit would be carried with her. She needed something. 

He didn’t want to let her go, but when her lover came, it was time to. He didn’t want to intrude - Dawn were one of the few nations he understood in that way. The display was likely to be unsubtle and proud. He touched her forehead, said goodbye, and got to his feet, furious at the orcs that took her.

He didn’t let anyone see his tears as he walked away, knowing she would be gone by the time he got back. 

Sam + Alexei Adventures

“I’m tired.” Sam looked back over his shoulder, widening his eyes. “You can’t possibly be.” “But I am.” Alexei’s voice wasn’t quite there yet, but it was dangerously close to a whine.  “We’ve been walking less than an hour.” “But my feet hurt.” Alexei looked down at his feet that were in heeled boots. Not walking boots. Just like his fur coat wasn’t waterproof and his braces didn’t actually keep his trousers up.  “I know what you’re trying to do.”  “Then why don’t you just do it.” “Because then you’ll win!” “I always win.” Alexei said, flatly. 

Ten minutes later, Sam rounded a corner, carrying the smaller man on his back. Alexei, for his part, seemed perfectly content with this development and looked around the forest with an inquisitive eye. A little oddly for someone that looked so ill prepared for hike, he didn’t show an ounce of fear. In fact, he seemed more relaxed here than he had done in court. Like he had stopped worried about being observed. Like he had actually taken a breath. He was less of a little shit too, marginally.

He started talking, idly at first. About his favourite flowers. About his favourite animals (wolves, if Sam was wondering, which he wasn’t). As the evening drew in, and sleep started creeping into his voice, it got more pensive, almost dreamy. Wondering what the point of this part of his tale was. Wondering what fatal flaw he might have running through him like a fault line. Wondering wondering wondering and coming up with no answers. Eventually, he fell silent and Sam realised he had fallen asleep on him. A sign of trust, he knew - Alexei generally found it incredibly hard to sleep. He would stay up to the early hours, reading or walking, anything but being alone with his thoughts.

When the tavern appeared in the small clearing, Sam almost hated to wake him up. He seemed to be having such a peaceful dream. 

[thetakenpokemon]

@theorangelopunny

“And there we have it folks! Hus.La, the young prodigy has just mercilessly bodied FlawlessLegend in that FT100 set of DragonSphere FighterZ!” The commentator exclaimed as the crowed roared and cheered for the Video Game Extraordinaire known as Hus.La who has once again taken the stage in a dominating fashion. “The fact that she didn’t lose a single match while playing this man says so much about her endurance and her mentality. I had no idea Gochu would be so damn good as her Anchor but along side Gochu Black and Cybor 31 on Point, she set-up the perfect shell that covered all the stops!” The analyst explained while maintaining all the hype from a perfect 100-0 set. “All this tech found no doubt after labbing like the monster she is for a solid week straight. I cant wait to see her in later tournaments! With that being said, This is PTY Hypez, Signing out!” he said with clear excitement in his voice as he took his headset off and flew away. Who knew they made headsets that small for Ribombees? “Wassup guys, Trish HatTricks here waiting for ‘Monarch of Brawlers’ to start and joining me will be Purrrrrrshia–” she started and soon started to fade away as Hus.La got off of the stage and went outside the vicinity to get some fresh air. She was extremely happy and proud of her perfect win streak but she needed to move around a little. Getting up on the stage and actually playing takes a lot more than just skimming at home. So she went to go explore the town of Pearldom! seeing all the local shops they had and aiming for a restaurant to get some food in her belly. Our of the corner of her eye, she saw someone strange yet awesome. A Pokemon that looked like the mythical creature known as a Naga! This particular ‘mon was part Seviper and part Nidoking it seem– Wait a second. Those clothes… Oooooh we’re gonna have fun with this one! Hus.La quickly abandoned her train of thought for food and dashed up to the naga-esque 'mon with stars and her eyes and a wide smile on her face. “You…look wickedly cool!” she exclaimed. “Everything about you just screams master-class Ninja!” she continued then pulled back to do her famous flourish with a winking pose. “I’m Hus.La! Video Game Extraordinaire! It would be my honor if you would considering being the rogue in my LARP'ing group! It’d be so much fun once I find two more members! We would be able to live out our own adventure!” she explained still extremely excited at the possible addition to her LARP'ing party. But there’s just oooooone last thing she has to ask. “Oh! Do you also mind if we take a selfie? I love being able to take pictures with all the awesome new people I meet when I travel!”

[PoV: Minato]

While the other members split away to cool off, I stayed put with Snakewulf. I actually decided conversr with him, since this is the first time I’ve actually met him face to face.

Out of all the members, the Night Watchers are the ones who spend the least time at the GoT HQ. Their job requires them to be constantly moving from one place to the next, keeping tabs on things and looking out for any abnormal activity or threats. But they do have their times when they’re at the GoT HQ, so that they can rest and relax during their break periods.

But out of all the Night Watchers, Snakewulf has never been on break. He’s always out in the field, moving from one place to the next as ordered. This however is of his own request, since he supposedly enjoys the outdoors and the changes of scenery. And because of this I’ve never actually met him, which is why I’ve taken the opportunity to converse with him.

Despite his unusual appearance, he’s actually…a very nice individual. Very kind and inquisitive as well as very casual, even quite humorous with the occasional quip and joke. We were mostly just talking about what we’ve been up to as well as interests, which was more than fine by me.

The conversation is interrupted however, due to a loud exclamation from an interestingly dressed Lopunny. We both look over at her, mine with confusion and Snakewulf’s with amusement.

Master…class…ninja?

Snakewulf ends up laughing. “She has a point you know.” He tells me, glancing over with a twinkle in his orange reptilian eyes. “You do rather fit the bill with the ‘master-class ninja’, from what I’ve read in several books.”

O…kay…

Her question however ended up catching me off guard even more, since…well…no one has ever asked me to join a ‘LARP’ group before.

I smile uncertainly at the Lopunny. “It is…nice to meet you, Hus.La.” I say with a small bow, still unsure of the whole encounter. “I am Silence, and this is-”

“Snakewulf.” He interrupts me, sitting down and letting his hand-like tail flick from left to right. “While not a ‘master-class ninja’, I’d like to think that I’m around that sort of level~” He stops for a moment and tilts his head. “However I’ve never heard of ‘LARPing’ before, mind if you could fill me in?”

I turn to Snakewulf, deciding to answer for the Lopunny. “LARP is an acronym for ‘Live Action Roleplaying’. It’s usually acting out fictional settings with groups of people, for the enjoyment of pretending to be in various scenarios.”

At this the unique hybrid’s eyes widen with realization. “Ahh, so it’s essentially like what I’ve seen younglings do.” He starts laughing again. “I’ve never thought adults would still be into it, since I assumed that it was something that you would ‘grow out’ of.”

Well…it’s not quite like that, since it tends to have rules as well from what I remember Delilah explaining to me. However I decide against further explaining to Snakewulf, since he had the concept. “That’s…correct.” I eventually say before looking back at Hus.La, since I need to respond to her question. “I am honored that you would approach me just to offer a spot in this ‘LARP’ group, however…” My nervous smile is replaced with an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that I have to decline. Although I am always up to experience new things, but due to my job with my guild taking a lot of my time…I won’t be able participate.” Well, that’s not the exact reason since I often have plenty of free time between assignments. But I didn’t want to straight up tell her that I didn’t want to...since that might hurt her feelings.

I bow my head again. “Watashi wa hontōni zan'nendesu, Hus.La. I thank you again for your offer, I appreciate it immensely even though I can’t accept it.”

“And yet you didn’t offer me a spot.” Snakewulf comments dryly, however his face possesses an amused smile without a trace of offense. “Not that I would be able to take you up on it, since I’m also a very busy doggy. Gotta sniff out bad guys twenty four seven, after all~.” His tail stops its flicking and starts scratching the top of his head, probably to take care of an itch. “Still, very cool to hear that adults don’t drop that childish part of them. Keep at it, I say! Everyone needs to indulge into their inner pup once a while.” He stops, his eyes flicking to one of the roads before looking back at me. “Looks like the other members are coming back Silence, they’re probably ready to get started I’m assuming.”

I look over to where he looked, and in the distance on the road I see some figures approaching us. I had to squint my eyes in order to make out Asmund, which shows how keen Snakewulf’s eyesight is.

I look down another road and I notice several forms of Midnight Storm, meaning that they’re all coming back. With this knowledge in hand I turn back to Hus.La, putting on a kind smile. I was about to tell her that I was sorry to end this conversation now, but I had to pause and realize that she asked me something else.

She wanted to take a…selfie?

“What…is a selfie?” I ask her.

At this point Snakewulf starts laughing. “Alright, so you know what ‘LARPing’ is but not a selfie?” The hybrid starts shaking his head. “It’s taking a photo of yourself, Silence. It tends to involve a smart phone pointed at yourself, and it can also include various others with you. It’s all the rage at the moment, I know since I’ve been studying modern culture.” The draconic wolf sits up and strides over to Hus.La. “Now you didn’t ask me this, but I’m joining in. You’d better say yes, since otherwise I’m gonna photobomb it and make it better by having my face completely taking up the photo~”

I look back at the approaching figures of the GoT before turning to Snakewulf and Hus.La, my face uncertain again. “I…don’t see a reason on why I would decline, however I must ask for it to be brief since we’re needed.”

“Yeah yeah, but it WON’T be brief unless you get your snake butt over here.” Snakewulf laughs, gesturing for me to come over with his tail. “C’mon! Time’s a-wasting, I want to make sure my good side is taken!”

Wasting no time I quickly slither over to them. I notice Snakewulf sitting down and raising his tail, the claws doing its best impression of a ‘peace symbol’ even though it only has three claws.

Seeing that I’m rather big compared to the smaller Pokemon, I take advantage of my serpentine body and lower myself more to their level. Unsure on what exactly I have to do, I decide to smile and mimic what Snakewulf is doing with his tail.

“And remember! Say cheese!” Snakewulf adds through his wide smile.

Well…okay. “Cheese?”

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [142]

“Pets aren’t allowed in this building,” Bull says as Ellana struggles to hold three - four - squirming kittens in her arms. Bull then turns and yells down the hall, “Cool it, Rutherford, I’m no snitch. I can hear you about to have a panic attack an entire hallway off. No one actually cares enough to tell the landlord and the landlord doesn’t care enough to do shit about it. You and your ten dogs are fine.”

“But Bull, they’re babies,” Ellana whines. “Look at them. Babies.”

Ellana holds her arms up without dropping any kittens and Bull looks at them, nodding.

“Yup, baby cats,” Bull says, holding a hand out and catching one that slips out of her grip. The kitten meows very loudly at him, as if baffled and slightly upset at being caught. Bull puts the kitten on his shoulder. “Were you just going to hide four kittens in our apartment and hope I don’t notice?”

“Maybe,” Ellana mumbles. “I mean, you hide people and I pretend not to notice.”

“Ellana, that’s not hiding people, that’s sheltering criminals from the feds and entirely different,” Bull sighs fondly.

Ellana pouts up at him. It’s a powerful expression. The only one who can really say no to it is Cullen and that’s because he’s a very, very tired person with ten dogs.

“Do they have names?” Bull asks. Ellana beams at him and then quickly looks down at the kittens in her arms.

“That means you get to stay and I’m going to love you and play with your little toes and feed you and keep you clean and warm and safe and play with you and spoil you absolutely rotten unless he starts in on it first,” Ellana says to them. “And no, I do not have names for them yet. We’re going to need to get them checked out.”

Ellana yells down the hallway, “Cullen, what’s the name of your vet?”

“Do you just always yell down the hallway,” Bull glances towards the open doorway on the other side of the hall and about three apartments down.

Isabela is leaning against the doorframe, looking only slightly disheveled and hung over as she yawns trying to arrange the large mass of curly dark hair on her head into something not in her face.

“Do you all just treat the entire building like one open common room and yell about like this? Because I’m going to have to move to a different complex immediately if that’s the case and that’s a shame because I just finished getting comfortable here.”

“I can’t believe Varric didn’t warn you about us,” Bull says as Ellana goes down the hall to Cullen’s apartment to pound on the door, demanding for the contact information for Cullen’s vet.

“He probably did, but I most likely wasn’t listening,” Isabela says and then waves a hand at them, “I think the most I remember hearing was that all of you are nerds.”

“Says the woman who LARPS during her free time,” Bull retorts.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Isabela shrugs and then grins at him, “I figured out a new way to make extremely realistic fake body parts for mock battles. You want to see some of my tests?”

“Are they dicks?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, she’s going to be at Rutherford’s for a while. She’s got to say hi to every dog. I’ve got about half an hour. Show me the fake dicks.”

-

“Someone new moved in across the hall,” Dorian says to Ellana as she navigates their living room towards the kitchen without once looking up from her phone. Ellana is madly tapping at the phone with her thumbs, tilting her body this way and that.

“Uh huh,” She says and Dorian quickly reaches a leg out and snags a chair out of her way before she runs into it. She meanders, like a very drunk bee, to the kitchen and leans against the counter.

“Were you here for something?”

“Water me,” She says and then opens her mouth.

Dorian rolls his eyes and carefully sets down the plastic robot parts he was assembling onto the black towel he’s laid out on the kitchen counter so he can see them better.

“I’m not going to stick a water bottle into your mouth and hold it for you,” Dorian says. He does go get her a glass of water though.

“Bummer,” Ellana sighs. “Also, I just failed this level. Again. Do you think I could get Malika to do it for me?”

“Malika as in Edric’s niece who visits him on weekends?”

“Yeah, she’s really good at mobile phone games,” Ellana says.

“You could get her to do it by offering to grind her mage to max cap,” Dorian guesses, “I still don’t know why she picked mage.”

“She just needs to figure out a good mage build that isn’t a glass canon, Dorian. It’s not that hard. I do it all the time.”

“Not everyone can successfully pull of a hybrid build, Ellana. And are you listening to me? Someone moved in across the hall.”

“They took Maxwell’s apartment?” Ellana blinks, putting her phone down as she goes to rummage for snacks in the pantry. “I still think it’s weird that Maxwell has a house now.”

“He’s got all of one chair in it, it’s not that impressive,” Dorian rolls his eyes. “And yes, Maxwell’s apartment now has a person in it. I think you’ll like him.”

“How so?”

“Well. He looks interesting.”

Ellana squints her eyes at him. It’s only partially because she’s been staring at a screen for most of the morning.

“That sounds more like a reason for you to like him.”

“Not my type of interesting. Well - alright, a little my type of interesting. But mostly mysterious type of interesting, which is your favorite,” Dorian says. “And I saw some of the stuff he was moving in with.”

“Snoop.” Ellana shakes her head fondly as she rips open a bag of almonds, raising it and inhaling a good mouthful straight from the bag. Dorian can hear her crunching from the other side of the kitchen.

“Well informed,” Dorian corrects once he’s pretty sure she can hear him over the sound of her own teeth. “I saw one of his boxes. Computer parts. I think he makes his own rig.”

Ellana stops chewing, eyes widening.

Dorian immediately dashes for the door at the same time Ellana does. Dorian crashes against the door and holds it closed even as Ellana tries to pull it open.

“You cannot,” Dorian says, “I repeat, you cannot go and accost our new neighbor by asking him to help you build a custom rig. He hasn’t even been in the building for three hours.”

“You can’t just tell me he’s building a rig and not expect me to go over there and look,” Ellana says after she gets through her mouthful of almonds. “Dorian that’s like telling Cullen that there’s a stray dog outside and it has no chip or collar. He’s going to adopt it.”

“Please, at least wait twenty four hours,” Dorian says. “Bring a welcome present. Like a civilized adult. Maker, I should have just told you he looked like a jock.”

“Maxwell’s kind of jock?”

“You know how Cullen tangentially knows this really terrifying woman he used to work with and went to boarding school with? And how that woman will occasionally stop by because she also knows Leliana on the fourth floor? And how that woman will very, very rarely be accompanied by a very imposing and tall sour faced man?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to imagine that sour faced man being cloned. And then this guy across the hall eats both those clones and each clone is one bicep.”

Ellana’s mouth drops open.

“He’s jacked is what I’m saying,” Dorian says, “Yoked. Cut. Ripped. However the kids these days say it. His head is disproportionate compared to his muscle mass.”

“That is definitely your type of interesting and if you had lead with that I would have had approximately twenty percent less interest than I have right now,” Ellana concedes. “But instead you chose to lead with the fact that he might have a custom gaming rig and you really can’t take that knowledge back, Dorian. You just can’t.”