#people don't owe you jack fuckin' shit

[azurescaled-archived]

at this point we need to get rid of anon because people gettin' a little too comfortable showin' their asses without getting verbally murdered

[sinsandsuccubus]

The Boy is Mine - Meet The Harlow’s

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Liked by dojacat, lizzo, urbanwyatt, druski, and 2,567,607 others

cocojones: That ex he won’t forget.

dojacat: Hottie

lizzo: no tea no shade

lilnasx: don't be coming for people now

druski: let me get a little bit of that cocoa

y/nsource: Here we go again

cocojonesfan: Not everything is about y/n

y/nsource: nOt eVerYthiNg iS abOuT y/n; what does the caption mean then?

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, heavyhitterheaux, lilnasx, and 1,234,987 others

y/ninstagramname: She bitter, I'm better.

heavyhitterheaux: TELL EM' SIS

y/ninstagramname: @ heavyhitterheaux I stay unbothered

jackharlow: Love you mamas

y/ninstagramname: Love you even more Jackiepoo

claybornharlow: "Jackiepoo"? New nickname in the book, thanks sis.

lilnasx: She said what she said.

jackharlowstitties: I'm still stuck on Jackiepoo

Liked by dojacat, lizzo, theshaderoom, and 3,858,787 others

cocojones: The boy is mine.

lizzo: You look fuckin HOT

dojacat: me-fuckin-ow

theshaderoom: this is so juicy

y/nsource: why is the shaderoom always up in here? like damn.

jackharlowstitties: Just like we're in here, she fuckin with y/n

jonesandharlow: Y/N don't want what coco got, nor will she ever have what coco does

cocojones: Love my fans

Liked by heavyhitterheaux, urbanwyatt, bigheadedjack, and others

y/nsource: The girl's are fighting!! But deadass, who does coco think she is?

bigheadedjack: That's what I'm fuckin saying. Like sweetheart, he left you for a reason.

y/nandjack: And a good one. Cheating on him? And using his spotlight for additional fame? Sounds fucked up to me.

jackharlowsrightnipple: Its giving.... leech.

urbanwyattupdates: Y/n was so unbothered too, like wtf is this girl on.

jonesandharlow: @ y/nandjack, you know thats a damn lie.

y/nsource: @ jonesandharlow, bring the receipts. I'll wait.

jonesandharlow: @ y/nsource, bet.

Liked by champagnepapi, urbanwyatt, jonesandharlow, lizzo, dojacat, and 3,442,501 others

cocojones: Unforgettable.

y/nsource: Yet Jack forgot about your ass, and you're clearly still bothered by it.

jonesandharlow: @ y/nsource, get out her comment section.

champagnepapi: Lookin good Coco.

lizzo: ITS GIVING SNACK

jackandjones4life: She looks better than y/n ever will.

Liked by jackharlow, softcurse, urbanwyatt, heavyhitterheaux, claybornharlow, and 3,445,107 others

y/ninstagramname: This my shit, bow down bitches.

jackharlow: Every day I fall more and more in love with you.

urbanwyatt: @ jackharlow, You're so cheesy

jackharlow: Get over it @ urbanwyatt

claybornharlow: Best soon-to-be-sister (I hope) ever @ y/ninstagramname

y/ninstagramname: Love you both @ claybornharlow & @ jackharlow

druski: Lookin good y/n

champagnepapi: You bagged a good one @ jackharlow

lilnasx: Y'all cute of whateva

Liked by y/ninstagramname, urbanwyatt, heavyhitterheaux, claybornharlow, 2forwoyne and 4,500,687 others

Jackharlow: Got the best point of view.

Photo taken by my wife: @ y/ninstagramname

y/nandjackaremyparents: Jack, you tryna tell us something?

jackandy/nsource: @ y/nandjackaremyparents, I'm wondering the same shit.

y/nsource: If they were actually engaged/married, the shaderoom would have been on it @ jackandy/nsource & @ y/nandjackaremyparents

jonesandharlow: Bullshit.

y/ninstagramname: Love you baby

urbanwyatt: I'd better be the best man if this is true.

claybornharlow: No @ urbanwyatt, I'M gonna be the best man

y/ninstagramname: girls, girls, stop fighting @ urbanwyatt & @ claybornharlow

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, heavyhitterheaux, claybornharlow, and 1,967,007 others

y/ninstagramname: The boy is mine (actually).

jackharlow: Damn right I am

claybornharlow: Y'all still explain the wife part.

urbanwyatt: @ claybornharlow, yeah, explain dat.

lilnasx: My parents!

2forwoyne: I support it.

druski: You know where I am if Jack don't treat you right @ y/ninstagramname

jackharlow: Fuck outta here @ druski, @ y/ninstagramname and I are in this for life.

heavyhitterheaux: PERIOD

[sunbun-fnaf]

‘They didn’t give Afton a motive!’

Honey it took until the 5th game for him to even give him a name.

All we first knew is he was a guy that killed some kids and nothing else about him

Then all we knew was he dismantled the animatronics in the second games mini games

We didn’t even have a name in the game we saw his corpse and know how he died in the third

Nothing for the fourth like at most we saw him putting the s Bonnie head on some other employees head

Then we got a name and learned he inadvertently killed his own daughter through one of his own creations

The books might be considered separate continuity

But they have indeed given William Afton motive, multiple actually and seeing as the creator wrote said books

It could easily be considered just the character in generals motives

It’s only the first movie

They aren’t going to give us everything in the first movie

We barely got any mention let alone see Afton in the movie

They were focusing on the incident and Mike trying to find out who took garret for like a majority of the fuckin movie

We didn’t have a motive

Because it barely gave him any attention he got what 2 scenes that were only a few minutes long before the ending?

Like Cmon man give it time wait until a sequel for it

The games gave us nothing for YEARS

NO. THIS. LITERALLY THIS. ANON YOU ARE ON POINT

ITS SO SO SO FRUSTRATING TO ME WHEN PEOPLE JUST. EXPECT. THINGS.

I get how in a movie, you want to know as much as you can- ESPECIALLY when you have no prior knowledge.

The issue is when you think that this information is owed. You are not owed ANY information beyond what the basics of the universe are, which is explained by Vanessa. You know exactly what you're getting into- even if some of the specifics are left out. A motive is not by ANY MEANS owed to you. in ANY movie. A motive does not automatically make a character better. William Afton did not, by any means, need a clear and distinct motive as to why he killed the kids. The only motive we get- if you can even call it that- is seeing that Afton is a smug bastard who always wants the last laugh and to cut up loose ends which is something that only fits him trying to kill Mike.

And that is ALL that we needed for this movie. It is so so so SO frustrating when even FNAF veterans complain about how we don't know jack shit about William Afton. its like they completely forgot how slow we were to get ANY information on him. People really tend to forget that William wasn't even a real character until sister location, the second to last mainline scott era game.

Do I think Afton was handled well? not at all. He clearly needed more screentime, but I'm okay with what we got because as you mentioned there will be other movies. It is so obviously clear that even from the concept of the movie being fnaf 1 based that William Afton would have had very, very little to do with it.

Of course that SUCKS because I love william afton a lot and really wish that he could have gotten more time- but it's not like its a huge issue. This is not his story. It is Mikes. This is Mike's movie. That is all that it is and people need to calm down and find something they could actually critique about the movie

[d20unfuckability]

cody defender anon here - I'm gonna clock out from this game because it is making me real life upset to see people characterise him as an incel misogynist since he's a comfort character of mine ! nothing against anyone who sent asks or you op but since this is just for fun I'm not gonna really participate in something that is no longer fun for me. Good luck to all involved and thank you for running this tournament <3

don't get me wrong, i'm all for doing what you've gotta do- this is all for fun, and if you're not having fun, of course you can and should bounce

but like. this isn't an airport- no need to announce your departure.

between you being on anon, one of probably multiple anons who have defended cody over the course of the last couple months, and the fact that i'm not keeping track of who is and isn't interacting with posts, i truly would not have noticed that you stopped interacting. (aside from remembering a handful who interact all the time and/or are mutuals with me on my main, but even then i wouldn't put any energy into thinking about why they weren't showing up in the notes anymore. no one owes this blog jack fuckin shit, let alone accountability for whether or not they're participating in this silly little game)

i don't know what you want me to do with this message. i'm not gonna apologize for the lighthearted, good-faith ragging, and i'm not gonna try to convince you to stay.

i get that comfort characters are important to people and can be a touchy subject, but, and i mean this with nothing but kindness, go touch grass.

it's Not That Deep.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Have you read When the Duke was Wicked by Lorraine Heath? I've never read Heath before, and I'm looking for an opinion!

Oh, for sure! I love that book; it's one of my favorite Heaths. It's highly emotional and romantic, and I'd say it's fairly high angst, but not quite as angsty as Thee Angstiest Heaths I've read. I feel like when I first began reading Lorraine it wasn't given its proper due, but it's been slowly gaining icon status over the past few years--there are certain circles where you just have to go "RUM ON LIPS" and people will know which book you're talking about. And if you're into a rake hero, Lovingdon is one of my favorites. Deeply sexy, comes from a great family, would have benefited from some therapy. Great heroine, too--Grace is sweet but strong and very firm in her sense of self worth, while at the same struggling with her own trauma and how that's impacted the way she sees herself.

Without getting into spoilers, the book does deal heavily with grief (Lovingdon is a widower who lost his wife and child at the same time, and it deeply fucked with his head) as well as some intense past medical trauma. But I still would say that it's deeply optimistic and fun, and has some wacky Lorraine Heath third act shenanigans.

The one thing I will say, though... This book does begin its own series, but you do have a preceding series that's pretty connected? When the Duke Was Wicked kicks of the Scandalous Gentlemen of St. James series, but the Scoundrels of St. James series is about like... the parents of the Scandalous Gentlemen, basically. Like, Scoundrels has this scrappy group of former child thieves (lmao) and the Scandalous Gentlemen are their nepo baby kids.

Lovingdon is actually the son (well, in the case of the hero, stepson) of the hero and heroine of Between the Devil and Desire, which is another all-time Heath book, imo. That one is about an uptight duchess whose husband dies and leaves the guardianship of their son to some random she's never met before, who happens to be Jack Dodger, a Prototypical Heath Hero (put some respect on Jack Dodger's name, nothing but respect for my gambling club owner turned father who stepped up), a total scoundrel/ne'erdowell/rich guy with a big dick. Lovingdon, aka RUM ON LIPS, is the duchess's young son, who is extremely sweet in his mom's book and I don't know, learned some shit in between books I guess.

And Grace, the heroine, is the daughter of Sterling and Frannie from Surrender to the Devil, a book about a woman who has survived immense trauma now having to deal with this fuckin' drama queen of a duke who's started sniffing around.

Anyway, would recommend all these books with TW caveats (pretty much every Scoundrels book is going to touch on the traumatic childhoods of the Scoundrels, which involved general abuse as well as sexual assault for several of them).

Other Lorraine Heath books I'd consider starting with:

Waking Up with the Duke. Probably her best work. The last book in a series, but you can read it as a standalone. It's the one that begins with the heroine's husband telling the hero "YOU OWE ME A COCK" because the hero caused the accident that made the heroine's husband impotent. Anyway, as a friend, he agrees to impregnate the heroine, because like, if you're gonna have your bro impregnate your wife, you should probably choose the bro who's AMAZING in bed. Highly emotional, angsty as hell, he's wanted her so long he basically has an orgasm from eating her out (and the lightest caress of her hand).

Scoundrel of My Heart. A series starter. You open on this very conventional romance between a heroine and her best friend's obnoxiously charming older brother, where she finds out that this local duke is literally taking applicants for a wife, and the hero agrees to help her get said duke's attention. Obviously, they fall in love, and they're just about to truly get together before THE MOST INSANE SHIT HAPPENS LOL (I literally paused, read the sentence several times to make sure I read it correctly, and laughed in pure delight), and they're separated. The book does a year timeskip, she's now engaged to local duke, and she and the hero reconnect as changed people.

A benefit is that this leads directly into The Duchess Hunt, which is imo soooo much better if you read Scoundrel first. Spoiler alert, local duke does not get the girl, but he's still running like, Indeed for Wives, and he's doing it with the help of his literal Girl Friday, his secretary Penelope, a bad bitch who literally masturbates to the thought of him in a carriage, who he CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT but only AS AN EMPLOYEE, it's SUPER NORMAL GUYS. If she quits he'll like, jump off a cliff.

[the-smallest-star]

"--M' sure y' don't need me tellin' you this, but you don't owe your family jack shit. Their mess, their fuck-up. They wanted their sons, they should'a fuckin' treated tha' both a' you betta'."

"I know that, and you know that. People need to shut their fucking mouths when they don't know what the fuck they're talking about!"

[bougiebutchbitch]

Hi hi!! :D ahh this is the anon who messaged u a few weeks (or months? What the hell is the passage of time) ago saying i never have time to read fics but I will 100% always try make time for yours and yours ONLY because your writing is so phenomenal I would read literally ANYTHING that you write!! And I said I was gonna read Crawling Back to You and I finally FINALLYYY got to read the first two chapters and AGHHHH ITS SO GOOD ITS SO GOOOOOOD!!!

I wanted to let you know that i appreciate all the hard work and love you put into your words! I had a rly stressful work shift but reading those two chapters helped me look forward to something!! And it helped me get thru the day so much easier!! So thank u!!! You have no idea how happy I am to see that there’s a realistic portrayal of Starscream being absolutely terrible and bitter and awful even to people who saved his life. The writing just feels much more realistic to canon and it’s so refreshing to see a slowburn with emphasis on SLOW redemption fic for Starscream, because this guy has spent millions of years being insufferable, he isn’t gonna stop anytime soon and I love how you write his perspective on things!! Scheming little bastard who still went through hell so he’s still skittish from the events of the third season and the movie but he still has that bravado and confidence that we loved to see from the earlier seasons and you manage to mix it together and make the PERFECT Starscream. Ughhh I’ve never read anyone else write him as perfectly as you do!!! and the way you describe injuries? The way you describe emotions?? Even little movements like the way someone gestures to someone else by lifting their chin a certain way or how you describe their voice hitching or!! Or how a transformer fuckin!!! TRANSFORMS!!! I always love how you write them it’s like I can practically hear the khh-ch-chk-chk bOOM!! I literally sit at my desk whispering “oh my goshhh you’re so cool” out loud at the screen as if the characters could hear me LMAO I just have a really REALLY good time reading your stuff!!

ALSO I am very much thoroughly enjoying your oneshots that you write, for the other fandom!! The one with the WLWs. I forget the fandom name and I may not know who the characters are exactly but YOUR WRITING IS LIKE FOOD, A DELICIOUS BUFFET OF GLORIOUS WORDS, thank you for feeding your audience. Anyway I just really wanted to say I love your writing and it helped me get through a very difficult work week so!!! Thank you!!! 🥰💖💖💖🌟🌸💕✨

sdlfkghsdklfghsdlkfhgkjdshfgklshdgkjfhsklghksljdfhgkjshdfgklhsdkfjghskldfhskldhgskjdfhgklshdgkshdfkhsdklghsdfklghskldjfhgkldshgskjdfhksldhgklsdhfgkljsdhfklhgsdkljfhgkldsfhgklsdfhg

anon

ANON

NONNIE

holy shit what an incredible comment <3

I remember you! And I am truly touched to my heart. I have this terrible affliction where I see characters like Starscream and (don't judge meeee) Loki, who take the genuine, horrible abuse they've suffered as a reason to be utterly shitty to others, and go:

'You. I get you. I don't agree with you, but god, I fucking get it.'

I'm very much of the opinion that no character, no matter how awful, is 'irredeemable', even if they are 'unforgivable'. Not to get all Optimus Prime up in here, but every person has the capacity to change for the better. However, while being supported on that path sure helps a lot, the people these characters have harmed owe them absolute jack shit. 

It's a really interesting line to walk, between 'Starscream has been through A Lot and you can understand his warped worldview if you dig into his psyche', and 'Starscream is an imperialistic, supremacist douchecanoe who, through his desperate attempts to grasp power, has ruined pretty much every relationship he's ever had and killed a whole bunch of people'.

So... yeah! I really wanted to dig into redemption arcs with this fic, through the medium of my favourite angry bird, without vindicating or demonising him, or any other character (except Megatron... sorta... Even that's horribly complicated from Starscream's perspective, as abusive relationships often are).

It was really important to me that this fic would be, as you say, slow to the point of gruelling! Starscream has been Certified Awful for millennia; he's not gonna wake up tomorrow and realise that the drones he's been treating like shit his entire military career are actually sapient beings who deserve far better than his ‘leadership’.

He's self-obsessed, neurotic, paranoid, arrogant, and has the worst case of Chronic Backstab Syndrome in fiction, to the point where he's a TV Trope.

And I fucking LOVE him.

Anyway, THANK YOU for giving me the excuse to screech about one of my favourite characters ever. I'm so glad you found time to read, and that this story helped brighten a bad week! AND THAT YOU COULD PICTURE THE TRANSFORMATION SCENES SO VIVIDLY OKAY - they are my favourite thing to write! Peak badass.

Anywaaaay. One day I'll actually update again, lmao. I really appreciate this comment, friendo!

in other news, I’m so happy that you like my Critical Role lesbians! They mean so much to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[violetwolfraven]

Prompt: "You don't have to hide your tears from me" for Redfinch

Mkay! Angst time! Let’s go!! I’m writing this the week after Valentine’s Day!! Woohoo!!

Anyway this takes pre-canon. So... spoiler alert they do get together later along this timeline, but right now it’s angsty and the boys aren’t together yet.

Tw: mentioned abusive parenting, toxic masculinity, unrequited crush.

...

Finch didn’t really understand blood ties. The concept of owing something to your biological family the way some of the other boys seemed to.

He didn’t understand why Albert, Elmer, and Buttons kept going back to their families even though all three of them always came back tired and usually a bit ticked off at best, genuinely upset at worst.

But then again, Finch didn’t remember his family beyond his father’s fists and his mother’s voice yelling at him. He’d run away when he was 6 and never looked back, and now he only thought of them when he was working through a nightmare or an old scar twinged in the cold weather.

The newsies weren’t exactly a family, he guessed, considering most of them weren’t blood, but they were like one. Better than most families, in some ways, with how Jack and Crutchie took care of the others and though sometimes jokes were at friends’ expense, it was never in a mean way. They were ride or die for each other.

Maybe that was what a family was supposed to be, but Finch knew he’d never seen blood family that was like that. He sure knew that the only people he was ride or die for were the ones he’d chosen.

He really hated seeing the people he’d chosen hurting. Especially when it was because of their so called ‘families.’

He hated seeing when Elmer came back from his parents’ house reserved and quiet, acting surprised when his friends actually paid attention to him, and he hated how exhausted Buttons always was, practically falling asleep on his feet.

But most of all, he hated how defensive and angry Albert always was when he came home from his dad’s house. How he acted for a good couple days afterwards, like any emotion other than anger was weakness.

This morning seemed to be an especially bad day, and everyone could see it. Even Wiesel and the Delanceys wisely avoided antagonizing him too much, knowing by the look in his eyes how bad of an idea it would be to mess with him today. The other newsies were giving him space, and honestly, the fact that they were letting him on the streets today at all was a little questionable.

Finch knew Albert. He knew how that boy’s words could be just as dangerous as his fists, and could get him into more trouble. It was useful sometimes, Albert’s uncanny ability to say exactly the right thing to start a fight. It was good for causing distractions if they were running from someone or to divert away from a topic he or a friend didn’t want to talk about. Finch actually was impressed with how he could always do that without fail.

But he really didn’t feel like helping his friend escape the Refuge again. Not today.

So, after a morning of watching him seethe with anger over... something involving his dad and brothers, Finch pulled him aside in an alley, putting his papes down on a crate and blocking the way out to keep Albert from leaving.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do ya mean ‘what’s wrong?’ Nothin’s wrong. I’m fine.”

Albert tried to shove past him, clearly getting more annoyed when he didn’t let him.

“Move.”

“No,” Finch crossed his arms, “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.”

“We’re gonna miss the mornin’ rush cause you’s seein’ things,” Albert urged, trying to escape again, “Nothin’s wrong, Finch. Move.”

“No.”

“Move!”

“No.”

“Just cause you’s sweet on me don’t mean you gotta care ‘bout my problems,” Albert hissed.

Well, that was... unexpected.

Finch still didn’t know how Albert had even found out about his crush—he hadn’t bothered to ask how—but since that time a month ago where Al tried to kiss him and Finch made it clear that he wouldn’t settle for being his rebound guy, they hadn’t spoken of anything involving that. He was pretty sure Albert had been being his friend as a way to make that incident’s thoughtlessness up to him, but neither of them had actually acknowledged that conversation happened.

Bringing it up now was a dick move. Especially considering Finch could tell Albert was still hurting over Race, because he was still in love with him, because of course he was because Finch’s luck was shit.

Well, at least it looked like it was dawning on Albert—albeit slowly—how much of a dick move that was.

“I shouldn’ta said that. Sorry. Still, move.”

Finch let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shook his head, “No.”

“Please?”

He was a little surprised to hear him say that, but he still refused to move.

“No,” he insisted. “No, cause I know what you’re gonna do if I let ya leave this alley without talkin’. You’ll just bottle it up like ya always do, and then eventually you’ll snap on somebody and pretend you’re mad when you’re actually scared or sad. And besides the fact that you can’t last like that—it ain’t healthy—that ain’t fair to the others and I’d rather it be me you yell at than one of them.”

Albert scoffed, “I do not bottle—“

“Yes, you do,” Finch interrupted, “And it used to be Race who made ya let it out before ya snapped on someone who couldn’t handle it, but you and him don’t talk no more lately for obvious reasons, so I guess it’s gotta be me.”

It hurt that Albert didn’t trust him enough to talk the way everyone knew he used to with Race, but Finch didn’t let it show. He knew firsthand how secrets could burn holes in you. He himself confided in Henry, Tommy Boy, and Sniper when he needed someone to talk to. And he would like to be able to confide in Albert someday, but...

Trust went both ways. Admittedly, he had trouble with trust some days, so maybe it wasn’t fair that he was asking Albert to trust him.

Maybe he needed to give a little to show it was okay.

“Look, I... I know what it’s like to get hurt by somebody who’s supposed to care ‘bout you,” he admitted, “My mom and pop weren’t exactly... they... I know what I went through ain’t the same as what’s goin’ on with you now, but I’m only gonna ask you one more time: what’s wrong?”

Albert was still staring him down like he thought he could get him to back out, but Finch did see a flicker of surprise at the little piece of his past he’d confessed.

Nobody in Manhattan knew his past. He’d made sure he left all that behind in Flushing. He was sure plenty of the fellas—Albert included—had guessed the general idea, but no matter how bad the nightmares got some times of the year, Finch always tried to focus on just the right now’s problems.

He had that in common with Tommy Boy, Henry, and Sniper. Their ‘just the four of them’ talks always danced around what they were actually upset about, because openly talking about families or parents or home lives, past or present, was just too painful. That was why they gravitated to each other. Because they were the only ones who could figure out what the others meant by what they actually said. Sure, Jack took care of everybody, but he was too busy with taking care of the whole damn borough to have time to figure out their mind games. Crutchie was still trying, but he had duties as one of Manhattan’s seconds, too. Everybody else had either given up or didn’t care enough to try in the first place.

Albert knew all that. Or... he knew how much Finch was letting down his guard, openly telling him even that little.

He gave up on trying to make him back down and looked at the ground with an angry huff.

“It don’t matter, okay? Nothin’ Ben and John ain’t said to me before.”

“So it’s not a problem with your dad?” Finch asked, relieved. Sure, Albert’s brothers were technically adults, but they weren’t a big threat.

He scoffed, “No, of course not. Dad’d have to actually look at me to give me problems. Which he don’t. Practically ever. I remind him too much of Mom, as if that’s my fuckin’ fault.”

The anger in his voice was dripping with sadness, and it broke Finch’s heart. Albert didn’t deserve that.

But that was more of a long-term problem. Right now, it wasn’t what he was most upset about.

“So... Ben and John?”

“Oh, yeah,” Albert said sarcastically, “Y’know, they both had their first sweethearts by the time they was my age, so it’s hilarious to dump on how Albert’s gonna die alone. John’s gonna marry Thea, so it’s a great time to laugh ‘bout me not havin’ anyone to bring to the wedding like how Ben’s got Elizabeth. And it’s all in good fun, so I’m too goddamn defensive for gettin’ mad about it! Yeah, I’m the irrational one despite how I ain’t the one who started it!”

If he was this upset about a few little jabs from his brothers, that meant it wasn’t actually about them at all, and Finch probably should have tried to make him talk before now.

If the heartbreak he was trying to hide by keeping his face turned to the dirt was any indication, this was about Race. And that stung a bit, but it was clearly still burning at Albert.

Finch could deal with his own unreturned feelings. Sure, it hurt, but it was nothing he hadn’t been feeling for months. And he’d gotten rejected before, so it wasn’t anything new.

But Albert had never felt this before. He was volatile and emotional and he didn’t know how to express it any way but with anger because that was how he’d been raised. To his credit, he’d tried to push the others away, knowing his own tendency to lash out, but Finch hadn’t let him push him away.

Finch prided himself on his ability to read people, so he could tell exactly how gone Albert had been over Race. He could tell how much that was hurting him now, how much it was tearing him apart, and...

And Albert was crying.

“Al—“

“Shut up,” Albert snapped, even though his voice trembled.

Three years since he’d come to Manhattan. Finch had seen most of his friends cry in that time, but not Albert.

Admittedly... he wasn’t sure what to do. The others usually gave him a sign whether to leave them alone or try to comfort them, but the thing about Albert was that he craved affection but would never be caught dead admitting it. He hated letting anyone see him as anything other as unshakable even if he was on the verge of collapse.

They were just standing there in that alleyway, a couple feet apart, Albert staring hard at the ground as his shoulders shook and tears dripped off his face and Finch frozen, no clue what to do.

“Al,” he said hesitantly, “It’s okay to cry.”

“No. It ain’t right for a boy.”

“Really?” Finch risked taking a step closer, reaching out a hand slowly.

Albert clearly saw him, but didn’t back away or stop him, allowing Finch put a comforting hand on his arm.

“That ain’t what you told me,” he pointed out, “That time when I woke ya up with a nightmare. You just hugged me till I could breathe again.”

“That was different,” Albert shot back, finally looking back up to look him in the eyes, “You was hurtin’.”

“And you’re not hurtin’ now? Al, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not breakin’ up inside.”

He didn’t. Or... couldn’t.

“Albert,” Finch said quietly, “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

He still looked like he wanted to hide them, but instead, he leaned forward, kind of head-butting Finch in the shoulder except he left his face there, his tears soaking through the fabric.

Finch would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat at the contact but he shook it off, focusing on how that was a pretty clear signal that this was okay.

“It’s okay, Al,” Finch whispered, wrapping his arms around him.

He didn’t say that it would get better or that Albert would find someone else who’d love him back. He knew that saying those things didn’t make heartbreak any better.

Just being there, being a friend, being a shoulder to cry on, was better for now.

[darke15]

Rhymieeee 😬😬😬 @rhymingtree

Based on prior hinting I know this one is going to hurt but I must soldier through the fear of emotional torture.

I already know you’re gonna be pissed 😀

And, in truth, he was thankful that she’d kept him alive this long. The men on this mission wouldn’t have kept him alive. Nor would they have listened to him.

You have a veeery funny way of expressing gratitude, Walsh.

He really does. Thanks for saving my life so many times…now I’m gonna end yours 😀

I'm wondering how they'd film all of this if it were a show... if they were to show the events from Ghost and Ollie's perspectives separately, how would they do it

👀👀👀

And knowing MCU and their weird secrecy, how would they hid it from the actors themselves what their scene partners would be doing... or would they really hide it that much? Would Ollie's actor be made aware of his character's intentions from the very start or would they let him play out the innocent inexperienced newbie, before dropping the bomb on him right before Ollie takes off Ghost's helmet in the Tower?

Listen, if I was in charge of the Aftermath Project, whoever played Walsh would know who he was right off the bat [kinda like alan rickman] everyone else wouldn’t know until the mask came off. 

Seems extreme to keep all of that in the dark for that long, but Feige has resorted to a lot of extremes to keep things under wraps, so…

Feige can kiss my ass 

I'm thinking for all the Wraith scenes where it's just his modulated voice, they'd have the other actors say the dialog in the scene and Wraith's lines would be VO'd... to make it trippier they could have Danny's actor VO him (and credit him) so no one would suspect Ollie at all. Kinda like how they did the Mandalorian, other people were in the suit and Pedro was cozy in the booth.

I would have the actors for Danny and Weston and Ollie do voice overs for Wraith and have them all compiled together. Danny’s would shine out a lil more but not too much but I wouldn’t credit any of them. 

BUT there would be a ‘leak’ of pictures of their actors on set 😈

I just realized Ghost's actor would either have lots of stunt doubles to do all the batshit crazy things she does... or she'd have to be played by Tom Cruise, who literally can do all the shit she does.

😂😂😂

But seeing Tom Cruise be lovey dovey with Sebastian Stan is not a fun mental image in my book. So the latter is an immediate no.

Noooooooooooooooo 😭😭😭

What the fuck, Oliver? Why are you tryna unhook straps in midair? You really wanna try and kill her now when your life is equally on the line?

He’s a douchebag, what can i say?

I think this was a missing piece to one of the puzzles you're tryna solve, Buckaroo. Just gotta slot it in and look at the bigger picture now.

He’s getting closer 

I'm terrified. Just so you know.

Good 😀

Ooh, why does Novak always write with a red pen?

Reminds me of blood. 

That’s it. 

That’s the reason

awww Jack went with Spidey to his second favorite building cuz he has something cool to show him???

They gonna be besties 

Yup. Now you're in charge of the child. You are his guardian and mentor. You are the Mando to his Grogu, the Joel to his Ellie.

😂😂😂

And if you know what happens to Joel at the end of the games, WELL. We don't talk about THAT.

😀😀😀

Honestly, Peter was far too unsupervised in his movies. Grown ups are so fuckin stupid.

IIIII KNOWWWWWWWWWWW 

His voice dropped to a whisper as he relaxed back with a shake of his head, “Don’t throw her around like that.”

Ow. Darke what the heck 

Wot? 😬

“You got this, Spider-Man. I’ll keep an eye on the city.”

Welp. This'll end well. Very well.

So.... sooooo well

Like, top of the Washington Monument well.

It’s gonna be great 😅

He swore he saw a shadow dart into the building, he swore he saw yellow eyes dip back into the darkness.

Nah man, that's just a really big rat, don't worry about it. Just Remy looking for a really big chef to control.

Don’t bring ratatouille into this 

Or... it is the chef already being controlled by a rat?

Here we go 🤨

omg was Remy the rat a HYDRA scientist

if you're wondering, yes I'm reading this at 2 am. Now you know why my brain went down that road

😬😬😬

“She’s going after you first.” Walsh paused, looking into the building after him, “Does that mean you want to lead?” “Nope,” he said with a curt shake of his head, “I’ll let her have you first.” “Great.”

I hate how funny they actually are together. It's inconvenient for them to have this kind of chemistry.

Right? I think it goes to show how manipulative Ollie is, which then leads into why the Avengers are falling for him. He really does act like a nice guy…

I wanna see fanart of Ghost with Perseus' orange glow in her eyes, like Jinx with the purple shimmer in her irises.

Saaaaaaammmeeeeeeeeee 

Omg what if her tears are orange too... unlikely, but a very cool visual 

Cool vis

But Bucky couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Haha the way this felt like a fucking sword through my fucking chest. 

Sorry 😀

“Familiar, Ollie?”

Cinematic moment worthy of epic tiktok edits right there 

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i wish aftermath was reallllllll

“Doll,” he tried again, holding out a hand to keep her at bay, “Listen to me.” Her jaw clenched as she shook her head, trying to circle past him and back to Walsh, “Move.” “Baby, please—” “I said move,” she snapped, not listening to him as she lurched toward him.

Idk how to react to any of this do I cry do I laugh do I cheer what do I do

DARKE WHAT DO I DO

I don’t knowwwww 😭

“Don’t,” he pleaded with her, trying to step after her as she slipped into the darkness, “Please.”

He sounds so broken and tired in my head... I don't like that.

I’m sorry 🙁

reminds me of a video essay on the last of us i saw that defined Joel's tragedy as sort of like the journey impedes the journey and it's like, his humanity is the main obstacle that keeps him from the goal

👀👀👀

Also did she just parkour her way up from rubble? Woah…

Yesh 

“We can figure this out,” he promised, letting a smile stretch across his face as his hand landed on her hip, “I can take you home right now. You don’t have to do anything. I promise.”

hahahahah im not crying you are fuck you

Wot did i do?

oh this is like the perfect moment for something bad to happen

No shit 😀

Darke I will be yelling at you later.

Yeah…i know 

NONONONONONONONO

NO

NO NONO NO

DARKE YOU BETTER NOT BE CHANTING YES

🙁🙁🙁 i tried really hard to not to 

The Soldier didn’t care about you—not this version, at least. But, you? You cared about every version of the Soldier. You couldn’t hurt him.

how dare you write this

Why are you yelling at me?

how dare you be this good

I’m so confused are we happy or mad at meeeeeee? 😭

it's irritating

it's heartbreaking

fuck you

Again?!? Am confused 😭

i need to binge watch bluey after this

I’mma need to watch it after reading this reaction 

OH MY GOD

DARKE 

WHAT NOW???

“Payback’s a bitch.” You forced a pained laugh as you glared up at him, “I didn't know your mom was here.”

Did you seriously just

I told you i would 

will I be holding a grudge against you after this... I don't know

🤨🤨🤨

Like Orpheus walking into the jaws of death for Eurydice, huh...

I wonder what song he'll sing this time. 

Oooooof fr fr 

PUTANG INANG GAGONG PUNYEMAS AYOKO NA PUTANGINANG TO NAKAKAPAGOD NA

Go to sleep 

Gusto ko na lang matulog forever.

Just take a nap, you’ll be fine 

I need to go stab a hole into a pillow or something

#darke&rhymie go to the rage room 

“You hurt her. I hurt you. You hunt her. I hunt you.”

The scariest hottest thing I have ever heard a man utter. 

Hell yeah

Oh. Hi Boone. Hahaha I forgot about you for a minute there. Sorry 'bout that.

Things have been really intense, she doesn’t mind that you forgot about her 

But Steve was different, he was…Good. A good man.

He's also the only normal person you have ever dated, but I won't hold that against you.

Honestly, it's a flex that the bar went from being in hell to being Captain fuckin' America. 

If only i could upgrade like that 

he was…Good. A good man.

Good in bed, too, you gotta factor that in. 

She’ll be reminded of that a lil later 

After they took down Walsh, she was going to take time off. She was going to put as much time and effort into him as he had into her.

Yeah but there's always something else coming next isn't there?

shhhhhhhhhh

Oh what's that? The sound of Asgardian ships being blown to bits in outer space? Wha... big purple alien with stones?

Nah that's nothing that's just sleep deprivation and hallucinations. Ignore it.

For like a year. Ignore it for a year. Then worry about the big purple alien's army descending from the sky in a donut shaped ship.

They’ve got like two…

Yep which is why he's... currently letting a fifteen year old spider child handle it.

Shhhhhhh he doesn’t get how teens work 

Maybe she needed a nap. Or a snack. Maybe both.

You talkin about Boone or me?

Yes 

Ugh. I wish I was falling in love with Steve Rogers too. 

Same 

Ummmm no no no

Yes yes yes 

haha no

Hahahahahaha yes

you are not going to New York

Yes him is 

NO

YES 

oh yay. the voices are back. Hello, Jekyll. Hello Hyde. Did you enjoy your short break from existence?

They did not

You’re weak. You couldn’t even finish it. You’re almost there. Stay strong.

You two are so confusing.

They rarely get along, surprisingly 

“Please,” you finally managed, cursing yourself for showing weakness in front of him as a tear rolled down your cheek and you licked your lips, “Please, it hurts.”

This reminds me of that one test some psychologists did in the midcentury. Highly unethical but garnered some interesting results. You've heard of it, Harlow's studies on maternal impact?

Ohhhhhhhh go on 

They put baby mobnkeys in social isolation, gave them surrogate inanimate mothers to see if they'd choose comfort over food? Warmth over survival?

Novak is the mother made of wires, and Ghost is the starving baby monkey. He's dangling her bottle of milk above her head.

Ughhhh this hurts

“Fascinating. It was your Agent Cavanaugh, I presume. We tried to recruit her once, she took three of my men’s fingers.”

wait wait wait 

HYDRA... disguised as what tried to recruit her?

And by she took three of my men's fingers, do you mean she took three fingers from your men or... she took an indefinite number of fingers from three men?

Yes 

"...All the pieces across the board will crumble. Everything we’ve built will be gone. Your family. Your friends. My inventions. Everything. You must destroy him before he destroys you.”

The way you write his dialogue is so interesting Darke I fuckin love it.

Thank you 😌 And thank you for quoting it because i found an error i had to correct for him 

He's referring to her family and her friends and his inventions collectively, as one? Like he's implying she wouldn't have any of it if he didn't allow it in the first place? Like even the good things she had found outside of his control were because of him?

She wouldn’t be alive without him, therefore, all of her victories, relationships, everything, is his. She belongs to him. 

Also, I don't know if this is how you've always written him and I just missed it, or if it's because Silco is an inspiration for him now, or if this is a tactic he's using but he feels a bit more paternal

He’s def leaning that way because of silco but he’s also playing with her a lil 

Why did he put in the effort to put a fuckin' bow on the box 

He may be a psychopath, but he’s also a gentleman…kind of 

"Kill him and we shall start over. Kill him and you may go home.”

It's never that simple, it's never that easy, he's lying he's lying he's lying he's lying 

👀😈👀

“I did not order the ambush that killed your family.”

MEREK

Ohhhhhh first name…he’s in troubleeeeee

You don't just drop a bomb like that now...

what the fuck

WHAT

HE'S LYING HE'S LYING HE'S LYING HE'S LYING

😈😈😈

The dogtags...

The rings. 

I warned you that this will hurt 

JAMES B. BARNES 32557038…

i thought i was done crying... 

You were wrong 

Go home. Rest, mi amor. You’ve done enough.

I THOUGHT I WAS DONE 

You were not 

Let’s go home, mi amor.

STOP 

Nerp 

I'm going to bed. And I'm never waking up again.

You better be…we have stuff to talk about 

CHAPTER 93: ACHILLES’ HEEL

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

You laughed, “You tryin’ to protect me?”

“If that is how you want to see it,” he said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on a handkerchief, “Then yes.”

“It’s not.”

“Then no,” he chuckled, sliding his glasses back up his nose, “I am not protecting you. But that changes nothing, Ghostie.”

“Doesn’t it?”

He was towering over you before you even knew he moved, his frigid touch chilling you to the bone as he wrenched you up to look at him.

“Look at me,” he snarled, every bit of composure he had left melting away in an instant, “Everything you hold near and dear to your little black heart, Wraith will destroy. He will annihilate everything you love. Demolish everything you have built. His patience is running thin, it will not be long before this game of yours is over. All the pieces across the board will crumble. Everything we’ve built will be gone. Your family. Your friends. My inventions. Everything. You must destroy him before he destroys you.”

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 93: ACHILLES’ HEEL

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST BELOW

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***if you have a strike through your handle, it wouldn’t let me tag you 😞

[lustybagel-blog]

I don't wanna cause discourse but do you follow user noncon? like..if need be ill ask off anon its just it wouldn't be good for me to follow a blog that might post noncon? you know?

Dude like for real I don’t care they don’t even post noncon but like I don’t fucking care???

This blog is like. Mine. I can cater to people on my main but this is my private fuckin nsfw porn blog. I tag basically anything anyways for my own personal uses but fuckin do whatever you want.

If you don’t feel comfy following this blog cool. I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone’s feelings on this blog but my own like sorry but it’s the fucking tea!

Whatever I’m into is p much whatever I’m into. I don’t owe anyone an explanation into my personal life, trauma, etc i don’t owe jack shit.

You’re the master of your own fuckin life so feel free to do whatever the fuck you want.

Idk don’t send me this shit please. All you have to do is unfollow. I’m tired of going through the same bullshit everytime I post stuff. You don’t like noncon? Cool ! I don’t either! I just happen to follow soneone which that username who posts a lot of bl scans.

Overanalyze shit all you want, just do it away from me

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 17

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 7,000

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had practically run all the way to Jack's door, but when she got there she hesitated. Back at the bunker they'd bonded a little, she thought; now, in the harsh light of the outside world and his near fatal injuries, she was less confident. Worried that she didn't belong there, she looked forlornly back at Dean as he caught up.

"What?" He wondered what the hold up was.

"Um," George wrung her hands and suggested, "...maybe we should wait for Sam?"

Dean read her nervousness and placed a hand on her upper back, pushing her gently, "Just go in. He asked to see you."

George let out a nervous groan and then pushed the door open lest she be shoved against it by Dean's strong hand.

Inside, she found Jack lying propped up in a small, twin sized bed, stitched and bandaged, listening politely to Lorna telling him how to cook the perfect egg. He appeared very alert and George was thankful he had his color. The image of his dead body from her dream flashed in her mind's eye quickly.

When the two of them came in, Jack's eyes lit up, interrupting Lorna excitedly, "George!"

She couldn't move her legs, as she fought hard to swallow the boulder-sized lump in her throat. As Jack started to sit up, Dean moved to the bed and adjusted his pillows to help prop him up.

Lorna took a hint and said, "Alright, well I took my lunch break to come home and check on the little miracle patient. Good news: still a miracle. And since he's doing so well, I should get back. There's plenty of food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourselves. I'm working a double." Both George and Dean thanked her profusely as she left, then turned back to Jack.

"You're OK!" Jack stated happily, addressing George.

She furrowed a brow at him and finally forced herself to walk over to the side Dean wasn't on, "Of course, I'm fine. How are yo-oh!" When she got close enough to him, he reached out and pulled her down into a tight hug. She felt awkward at first, again not used to hugging a lot of people. When she could feel how much the hug meant to him though, she relaxed into it, shifting to sit on the edge of his make-shift hospital bed. The built up tears spilled down her cheeks and she squeezed him comfortingly.

When he finally pulled back, she smiled, wiping her tears quickly with a blush, and asked, "How are you feeling? What was that about being a miracle patient?"

"According to Lorna, Jack's healing 'miraculously fast.' She seemed pretty surprised when she checked him over this morning," Dean explained with some uncertainty.

"Oh? What's-"

"We don't know," Dean answered with a shrug. "Best theory is maybe his grace is starting to grow back so he's healing himself, slowly?"

The three of them shared a confused expression, unsure what to think.

"Well… Good! As long as you're feeling better, that's all I care about."

"Yes, definitely better," He assured. Then added, "Happy to still be alive. A little surprised not to be dead, honestly." George frowned at him; he was so damn blunt sometimes. "Where's Sam?"

"He wasn't as quick to put his clothes on," Dean cracked.

"What?" Jack didn't understand.

"He means, he had to change," George corrected Dean, giving him a dagger stare, explaining further, "out of his PJs. He'll be here in a minute."

"Were you sleeping? You didn't have to wake them up for me," Jack scolded Dean lightly.

"Trust me, they were not sleeping," Dean laughed. George reached across Jack to punch him but the angle caused a white hot stabbing pain to radiate throughout her left side.

Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully shifted back to a comfortable position, muttering, "Ow, ow, ow."

"Are you OK?!" Dean and Jack asked simultaneously.

She placed a hand on her left hip and nodded, trying to catch her breath, "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore and my pain meds have evidently worn off."

"Oh, Lorna left you more…" Dean began, looking around the room for something. "There," he pointed to her side of the bed. On the nightstand she saw a small glass of water next to a cupcake wrapper with two large pills inside.

"Oh, that woman is a godsend!" She muttered, grabbing the items and downing the meds.

"I'll say!" The three of them turned their heads to find Sam in the doorway, holding another plate full of scones. He was now dressed in dark jeans and an olive green and black checkered button down. Taking another bite of the pastry in his hand, he mumbled excitedly, "Have you tried these?!"

When George laughed and nodded, Sam offered the plate to Dean. He quickly turned it down with a shake of his head, looking a little green. George smirked, assuming he'd had his fill. Sam placed the plate down on a side table and then came over to them. Shoving his brother out of the way, he leaned down and gave Jack a bear hug.

"Sam," Jack said happily, hugging him tight. When they separated Jack looked around with a smile, Sam squeezing his shoulders lovingly, "I'm so grateful to see you all." He looked between Dean and Sam, "How did you find me?"

Sam and Dean turned toward George pointedly and she blushed bright red.

With a nervous chuckle, she shrunk herself down a bit, admitting, "Uh, oh, well I--I… uh, I guess I helped with that a little." The brother's gave her matching perturbed expressions and she smiled weakly, "A lot?"

"What's going on?" Jack asked, reading the situation fairly accurately. "Am I missing something?"

They continued to wait for her to respond and she huffed a bit, "It's just--it's kind of a long, complicated story. And also, maybe we should start with Jack. How did you even get here?"

The diversion worked as the boys instantly looked at Jack and he began to explain, "Tilly brought me here. It's kind of weird. The night I left, Tim came to talk to me. He told me Sam was back from his hunt and wanted to see me in the garage. When I got there, I walked in on Tilly killing a demon with an angel blade."

"Where'd she get an angel blade?" Sam wondered.

"She told me you gave it to her and asked her to come get me because you said you thought I was in danger. Told me the demon she'd killed was proof that Sam was right and that I should go with her. I guess I was just surprised by the demon and I believed her," He frowned apologetically. Dean's expression didn't change but Sam and George gave him sympathetic half-smiles. "Anyway, we got halfway through Utah before she finally admitted she wasn't working with Sam after all and that she was taking me to the angels. She seemed… kinda guilty about it."

"Why was she taking you to the angels?" Dean was furious.

"They got to her. Told her about heaven struggling without more angels and convinced her that I was the answer. They gave her the angel blade and told her to get me to Oregon at any cost."

"And she just�� did as she was told by stranger angels?" George asked in confusion. "Why?"

Jack began to explain, "Tilly--"

"Was very devoted to her faith," Sam cut him off with a frustrated huff. "I remember. The angels must have sensed she was vulnerable."

"Wait, is Tilly the bible study lady?" George asked. Jack and Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Bible study lady?" Dean was confused.

Sam explained, "Tilly organized a bible study at the bunker amongst the refugees pretty quickly after we got back."

"Yeah! She found my room and knocked on the door one night, nearly scared the shit out of me. No one knew where I was staying and that room is purposefully hard to find."

"What did she want?" Dean asked.

"To invite me to bible study. I politely declined and she left," George shrugged. "Crazy how she found me though. I mean she must have followed me," She casually glanced at Sam and Dean, both of whom had thoughtful frowns, and joked, "Or she was casin' the joint--ooohhhh!" She nodded slowly as it dawned on her that Tilly must have found her room while exploring the bunker in secret, "She was casing the joint!"

Dean gave Sam an annoyed look, silently scolding him for letting the nutcase run amuk and Sam shrugged defensively, "I didn't know that's what she was doing!"

"Bible study?" He sneered.

"I wasn't about to tell anyone that had just traveled from an apocalyptic alternate universe that they couldn't practice their faith, Dean! I just thought she was trying to bring people some comfort. I didn't think she was hurting anyone!"

"Fuckin' zealots," Dean grumbled. Sam looked guilty.

"Where's Tilly now? Do the angels have her?" George asked, unaware of her fate.

"We found her body off the trail," Sam began, looking at Jack curiously. He added as an afterthought, "We actually need to go back and take care of it."

"The angel who came over to us back in the woods: Poyel. He killed her," Jack explained. "Tilly brought me to him and Duma just inside the trails. They were leading us to the other group; out of nowhere he thanked Tilly for 'serving her purpose' and then..." He trailed off and frowned deeply. "It happened so fast. T--There was nothing I could do," He admitted sadly.

"Jack," George placed her hand over his and squeezed.

"Don't feel too bad for her, she kidnapped you," Dean stated matter-of-factly. Jack's frown depended.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"I think what Dean means to say is," George began pointedly, "what Tilly did, taking you to them, it was wrong. Of course she didn't deserve to die, but it's certainly not your fault that she died doing something wrong."

"She believed it was right," Jack argued sadly.

"Even so. The wrong thing done for the right reason is still the wrong thing," George said very wisely.

"Huh. Did you just come up with that?" Sam wondered curiously. Dean seemed equally impressed.

She blushed and admitted, "Nah. It's from Charmed. Phoebe uses her magic to kill a guy and when Piper and Prue try to break her out of jail to save her from execution, she's like 'no I did the crime, I have to do the time! We're supposed to protect the innocent, not punish the guilty'..." Looking back and forth between the brothers' matching bemused expressions she added proudly, "Reality Bites. Easily in the top five greatest Charmed episodes. I highly recommend a watch."

Dean stared at her blankly for a few moments before stating, "OK, seriously. You watch too much TV."

"That's rich coming from Doctor Sexy, MD's biggest fan. Give me a break!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he held his hands up in mock defeat. "Life wasn't exactly a fairytale and TV was an escape. Hey, and now it literally is!" She said with a cheeky smile to Sam. Then she gasped, "Oh my God, can you imagine if I'd ended up in the Charmed reality, instead of this one? What if I got powers? How cool would that be?!"

"I mean… We have witchcraft here that I can teach you, so..." Sam muttered quietly. After a pause and a frown, he huffed a little, "And, you didn't get any special abilities when you came here, so I don't really think it makes sense to assume that you'd have gotten powers if you'd gone there." George gave him an amused look, reading his mild irritation for the jealousy it was.

Jack seemed confused, "I feel like I missed something."

"You've missed quite a bit," Dean said bluntly.

"Not that much!" George downplayed.

"Why don't you tell Jack how you knew how to find him, then?" Dean challenge.

"Oh, right," George grimaced, realizing she'd forgotten to use her distraction to come up with a good explanation. With a nervous frown, she squeezed Jack's hand quickly before letting go and clasping her hands together, "OK, so here's the thing: I wasn't entirely honest with you when we first met. I'm not from the apocalypse world."

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed. He knew he hadn't recognized her from the camp.

"Congrats, you called it," she gave him an amused smirk and then cleared her throat nervously, "I'm not from the camps, but I am from an alternate reality--a different alternate reality." Pausing to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow, she took a deep breath. "In that reality, all of this--you, the brothers, your lives, monsters, heaven, hell, angels, demons--none of it is real. It's all just a show. On television. That I watch… watched? Am watching? Whatever. Anyway, because of the show, I knew who you all were before I came here. And also, even more strangely because why not, I'm kind of from the future. I seem to have come back to an older season of the show, one that already aired in my reality. So, like, I knew you were all going to make it back safely from apocalypse world, I knew you were going to lose your powers, I knew Dean was going to get possessed by Michael…" She looked at Dean apologetically; she was really trying to be sensitive to the fact that these were real people's lives she was now referring to. "And then when you turned up kidnapped, something about it seemed very familiar and I realized that in my reality there must be an episode of the show where you get kidnapped and taken to that Trees of Enigma place. And since you guys had just come back from apocalypse world and I knew your powers were gone, the timeline seemed to fit perfectly. So, I politely suggested that the guys tr-"

"You demanded that we go to Oregon," Dean corrected, but then added fairly, "And you were right." George gave him a small smile of appreciation and then looked back at Jack. The look on his face was indiscernible; she really hoped he wasn't angry that she lied to him.

"So, you knew us before we met you?" He asked curiously.

George nodded a bit, "Yes--well, sort of--I'd never met any of…" She trailed off, suddenly glancing at Sam and realizing that might not be true, "Er, uh, I mean, I knew of you. In my reality you're all characters, so I knew you about as much as you can 'know' Darth Vader." Jack looked thoughtful, like he was processing.

"And you knew where to find me because you saw it on TV?" Jack asked, blinking at them a few times, then looking between Sam and Dean.

"Er--essentially," George thought about clarifying for accuracy, since she hasn't actually seen the episode, but figured it wasn't important.

Sam gave him an apologetic grimace, offering some assistance, "It's true, Jack. George knows things she couldn't possibly know any other way. And actually Dean and I have been to that reality, once. A long time ago. The supernatural wasn't real, we weren't really brothers; we were just actors on a TV show, pretend-killing monsters with rubber weapons. It was… interesting."

At the same time, Dean spoke over him, "Weird as hell." George rolled her eyes a bit at his unwavering disdain for his alt reality fame.

"Jack, I know this may not hold that much weight right now, but I'm very sorry that I lied to you. I feel awful, I just didn-"

"It's OK, George. I understand. You lied because the truth seemed�� unbelievable. I think it's safe to say we've all been there," He shrugged a bit with a smile, Dean and Sam giving expressions of clear agreement, and she looked relieved.

"I promise this is the only thing I ever lied to you about," She said, trying to assuage her guilt further.

Jack thought for a moment and then asked, "So, then you were telling the truth when you said you were single?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Sam frowned in confusion, looking at her curiously. George blushed. She had forgotten about the strange personal question he'd asked her out of the blue a few weeks ago during one of their video game sessions. It had come so nonchalantly, and she'd been so focused on the game, that she'd answered without thinking: "Since Tess Thompson hasn't returned my calls, I guess I'd have to say yes." His response was a distracted "Who's that?" but something in their game caught all their focus right after, so they continued on playing without another thought.

George blushed and stuttered, "Uh, ye--yes, I--I am! Why did you ask me that by the way?"

"Well, when Sam asked me if I knew, I didn't," Jack explained matter of factly, with a shrug. "So, I asked in case he asked me again and I could tell him." George instantly looked back at Sam in surprise and then looked away quickly, trying to hide her grin. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. She would have felt flattered but she was too busy being worried that Jack might have told Sam all the embarrassing things she'd asked Jack about him.

"Beautiful," Dean remarked, his own wide spreading grin appearing as he watched Sam fidget in embarrassment.

Before Sam could explain at all, Jack asked, "So, how much did you know about us before meeting us?"

Glancing at Sam again and grinning at his charming humiliation, she replied, "Uh, actually not that much. Remember I told you I liked that show, 'Friends'?"

"The funny one you said was about 'a guy who sleeps with another woman and then spends 7 seasons arguing it's no big deal'?" Jack asked, sounding like he was reciting her words back to her.

"Weren't they on a break?" Dean asked casually.

George's neck snapped toward him and she practically hissed, "Maybe but he slept with someone else. He doesn't get to be indignant when Rachel doesn't want him back after that!"

"I really wouldn't argue with her about it. Trust me," Jack warned, causing George to give him a teasingly dirty look.

"Anyway. So, obviously, you know I'm obsessed with that show; watched every episode countless times, know all the trivia, yadda yadda," George explained. Then continued, "I was objectively less obsessed with the show you're all from. Called Supernatural, by the way. I've seen most of it, 'cept the last two seasons, only once through and some reruns here and there--but that's about it. And your 'character' was fairly new to the show, so I've only seen one season with you. I know more about these two doofuses," She smirked, angling a thumb in the direction of Sam and Dean.

"Like what?" Jack asked, suddenly very curious.

Dean huffed a bit and interjected, "Wait, you're fine with all this? George's revelation. Just like that?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, "Stranger things have happened. Besides, it'd be cool to learn about your lives before me."

Dean and Sam looked a bit indignant and Dean defended, "What do you mean? We're open books, you can ask us anything!"

"Uh, Dean," George began with a smirk, "You're happy to tell about your successes--by the way have you ever killed Hitler?" He gave her a perturbed look and she continued with a chuckle, "But I find it hard to believe you're going to tell Jack about the time you pulled down your pants and shouted 'pudding' at a stranger?" George spoke slowly and enunciated each word for maximum impact. Dean's face fell instantly. Sam's, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree at the memory, looking at Dean with a stupid, little brother grin on his face. She added, "Or about the time you got your ass kicked by fairies? Or when you became a dog in human form and bark-shouted at the postal worker? Oh, oh! OR the time you screamed bloody murder because you were scared of a widdle kitty cat?"

"Ah ha ha! I remember that! The Buruburu," Sam nodded, laughing along with George. Dean was glaring daggers at them. Sam looked at Jack and added gleefully, "It wasn't just cats--he was terrified of everything!"

"Like, literally, everything!" George buttressed with wide eyes, joyful eyes. "So funny." Then she looked at Jack and grinned, "Oh, hey! Have you ever been so annoyed by Dean that you maybe wondered what it might look like to see a piano fall on him? Well, there's an episode for that!" She and Jack laughed together and Dean looked confused. Sam gulped, sobering up suddenly.

"What? When did a piano fall on my head?"

George began to explain, "The myste-"

"Mystery spot," Sam interjected hoarsely. George looked at him, startled by the seriousness of his tone. Catching his eye, she gave him a questioning look. Quickly, he gave her a smile that didn't meet his eyes, waving her off gently.

"Oh, was that when Sam dreamt that I kept dying over and over again?"

"It wasn't a dream," George clarified quickly. "It was the trickster--or Gabriel? I'm still a little fuzzy on that whole situation honestly. But whomever it was, he had Sam in some kind of weird reality warp or time loop or his own virtual rat maze--whatever. I don't know exactly how it worked, but the experience was real. For Sam at least." She paused, smiling proudly at Dean's 'idgaf' face and continuing, "not real for you because you're obviously still alive," George finished. Then added as a quiet aside, "and a pain in my ass."

"Cute," Dean said sarcastically as she snickered. He offered, "How's about we rewind just a couple hours and talk about what you've been up to in Anne Frank's attic, hmm?"

She immediately stopped laughing and Sam snapped his head toward Dean. Sam looked like he was going to strangle the man.

She distracted quickly, reaching for the plate of scones on the desk and holding it up to Jack, "So, listen have you eaten? If you want to heal and get your strength up, you should probably eat something! Scone?" It sounded like a question but it wasn't one.

Sam shifted his foot on top of Dean's and discreetly pressed down hard.

Jack looked disappointed that they weren't staying on topic, but George quietly promised to fill him in later and he took the scone with a thankful smile. He ate slowly while the two brothers squabbled.

Once they quieted down, Jack asked George, "So how did you get here? To this reality?"

"Good question," Dean mused.

"Not really sure," George answered. "One minute I was in my apartment--coincidentally, watching Supernatural--and the next minute, I'm in the library at the bunker talking to Rowena. I guess she was doing some magic to keep the portal that Sam and Dean used to get to you in apocalypse world open. Somehow I came flying through it. That's as much as we know. Rowena has been MIA ever since and I was too nervous to tell anyone. Sam and Dean found out about me when you went missing and I was suspect numero uno."

"What?" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you be a suspect at all?" He looked between Sam and Dean with a stern expression. Sam looked guilty, Dean indignant yet apologetic.

George jumped in to defend them, "They were just doing their jobs. As far as they knew, I was the last one with you before you went missing. Long story short: Tim was a demon--a shitty one--he told them he saw us together and that I took you out of the bunker."

"Tim. He's the one who told me to go to the garage," Jack explained with a furrowed brow.

"Was he working with Tilly?" Sam asked in confusion.

Jack shook his head, "I doubt it; she hated him. Said he gave her the creeps."

George gave Dean and Sam a knowing expression, to which they looked sheepish. Then she offered, "He probably told Jack to go to the garage because he had set a trap for him?"

"The demon Tilly killed?" Jack guessed tentatively.

"Must have been," Dean nodded. "She comes looking for you, happens upon the demon, gets lucky, ices 'em, and uses it as her cover for getting you out of the house."

The four of them thought about it for a moment and then shrugged agreeably. It made as much sense as anything else at this point. Besides, their focus now needed to be keeping safe from the angels.

Jack broke the silence, suddenly looking at George nervously, "Wait, if you're not from this reality… does that mean you have to go back?"

George's mouth opened automatically to answer and then she froze, realizing she didn't know how. Of course she knew the answer was 'yes.' Obviously, yes, she had to go back. But when she tried to actually speak the words, it didn't feel so easy. She turned a bit pink, glancing at Sam and Dean briefly, then said weakly, "Another good question."

"One that needs some investigating," Sam answered Jack with an undertone of seriousness, subtly trying to catch George's eye, "but for now, we need to focus on getting you healed enough to travel home."

"Shouldn't be too long for that. Lorna said he was healing 'miraculously fast'," Dean offered with a skeptical tone. George grinned wide and squeezed Jack's hand tightly in happiness, but Sam was giving Dean a confused expression. Dean just shrugged and explained, "We're not sure how. Maybe his grace is coming back?"

"Hmm," Sam wasn't convinced, glancing between Jack and George slowly while he considered the information. After a moment he shrugged as well and said to Jack, "Well, no need to look a gift horse in the mouth yet. Besides, we also need to be prepared; with the amount of work they put into it, I would imagine the angels might not walk away from you so easily." He looked at Dean with concern and found him nodding in agreement.

"We should reinforce the warding. I'll call Cas; update him and see if there's anything stronger we can add," Dean said with a nod, whipping out his phone and dialing. When he left the room to make his phone call, Sam and George spent some time catching up with Jack.

The two of them tried to cheer him up from his feelings of guilt over Tilly, asked if he'd gotten any more insight on what the angel's were planning, and filled him in on their trip to find him, explaining a little bit more about George's other-wordly origins. George didn't move from his bedside; every so often she'd reach out to take Jack's hand and squeeze it tightly, relishing the warmth. She was so thrilled to see he was healing well, the image of his pale, dead body still looming in her subconscious.

______

A short while later, George walked into the cottage alone. She found Dean fresh out of the shower, toweling off his head. He was dressed in PJ pants and an old, faded whiskey brand shirt.

"Hiya!" George hadn't seen him since he left to call Cas. He nodded an acknowledgement and she told him, "Jack wanted to use the bathroom and take a shower, so Sam's helping. I see your stink finally got to you, too?" She jabbed with a chuckle.

"Hardy har," Dean smirked. "I was boosting the warding and things got messy."

"Well my nose thanks you either way," She cracked.

With a shake of his head he joked, "Are you familiar with the term 'little sister I never wanted'?"

George's impish smile faltered a bit and she shrugged, "Very." Dean furrowed his brow at her curiously and she explained with a shrug, "I have a brother; he's 10 years older. Travis."

"He's hard on you?" Dean asked, his tone much less gruff than she was used to.

"Very. We just never found any common ground, I guess; maybe 10 years was too big a gap or he was too big of a dick? It's a mystery," Dean huffed in amusement and she smiled. "Anyway, I was a surprise for the whole family and he'd gotten used to being a spoiled, only-child. At first, he had grand ideas of being the powerful, protective big brother whose baby sister was a perfect princess with stars in her eyes for him," George paused, seeming to get lost in her memories for a moment. After a beat she shrugged and smiled wryly, "He got me instead."

"A real princess," Dean said sarcastically with an amused smile.

She snorted, "Exactly! Though, in my defense his idea of being my protective big brother was just a lot of ordering me around and using me as the fall guy for everything."

"And?" He smirked like only an annoying big brother can. He clearly didn't see a problem with her description.

George rolled her eyes in frustration, "Ugh, you sound exactly like Ryan."

"Is that someone I should know?"

"Absolutely," George nodded definitively. "Remember? My-"

"Oh right, your friend, the--the--What'd you call her? Your 'Winchester Wiki'?" He shook his head in amusement.

"Exactly! My friend--my beautiful, smart, incredibly badass best friend and Supernatural savant, Ryan. Also like a sister to me; wonderfully supportive, helped me through a lot of shit, but does tend to favor the 'tough-love' approach," She said in a tone that indicated she knew Dean could relate. When he didn't immediately comment, she added, "She also never turns down a bourbon, makes the best pecan pie in all of Indiana--possibly the country--and she's got a fantastic pair of--" She waited for his eyebrow to raise curiously before finishing, "--.38 glocks." His face quickly dropped in only slight disappointment but she could tell he was intrigued, which made her smirk joyfully, "Got all kinds of fancy engravings. I don't know spit about guns, but they're cool as shit. And did I mention she was beautiful?"

"Once or twice," Dean mused, shaking his head with a half smile. "She sounds too good to be true."

"Well, that's what I thought about S-er, the two of you and look where we are, now?" She joked. "She's definitely not too good to be true, but she is a bit geographically undesirable at present..."

"You trying to fix me up?" Dean snorted.

"Oh that's crazy, don't be ridiculous!" She laughed, waving him off. "I mean, how could I possibly even pull that off…" Trailing off slowly, Dean narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. When it seemed like she was actually considering the possibilities, he cleared his throat pointedly, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a chuckle, she refocused, "Er, anyway! My brother? Right, yes, well when my independence got in the way of his award for world's best brother, he turned on me; kinda became the thing I could have used a big brother to protect me from. He never saw the irony there," She joked, trying to keep the mood light, but Dean could tell it was a painful subject for her.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean apologized, "Well, sorry if I-"

George waved him off, "No, please. You're fine. As annoying as you are, the big brother vibe I'm getting is far less hostile than Travis' was--is. Is." She had to remember to speak in the present tense. Her family wasn't dead, they just didn't exist. Here. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head she added, "Besides, it's not exactly his fault; I could have let him be the brother he wanted to be. I just never felt like I needed protecting."

Dean chortled quickly, "Because you're so tough?" George narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance but it's not like she could argue. Suddenly, Dean's expression changed to a thoughtful one. He set down his towel, "Speakin'a which, c'mere."

Motioning for her to follow, he walked to the small, 8' x 8' open space in the main room. He placed two hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her into position close to the edge of the square, near the back of the loveseat.

"What are we doing?" She asked in confusion, though still allowing him to move her.

"Teaching you how to protect yourself." His tone was matter-of-fact. She assumed Dean didn't take the time to train people he didn't think were capable, so it surprised her. Feeling very honored, she ignored her immediate instincts to argue with him and tried to pay attention.

Tapping her body in certain spots as he spoke he instructed, "Active stance--allows you to move quickly. Keep most of your weight on the balls of your feet, bend your knees a bit. Right or left handed?"

"Uh--right!" She answered hastily.

He placed a hand on her right shoulder and pressed it backward, "Position yourself to the side, dominant side furthest from your opponent." He lifted clenched fists to his cheeks and instructed, "Keep your hands up here. About at your cheeks. Makes it so you can throw punches fast and still protect your face." She lifted her hands, too, mimicking his movements. "Rule number one when fighting monsters: there are no rules. Their goal is to kill you. Your goal is to survive, and you aren't bound by any etiquette, so you do whatever you have to."

"Fuck politeness, got it," She nodded understandingly.

"You want to aim for anything squishy: eyes, cheeks, nose, throat, stomach--"

"Nads?" She interjected with a chuckle.

"Well, yes and no; it's not going to slow down demons or angels the same way it would slow me down. That being said, it's as good a place as any to stab. Use everything you can: your hands, your nails, your teeth, your feet, your body weight. Even your environment; look for things you can grab and swing, furniture you can use to trip them up with, any distractions you have at your disposal is fair game." As he spoke, he pointed to things around the room she could potentially use for defense. "And almost anything can be a weapon. One time, I even used a pen! But, don't try that right away. It's an advanced skill," He added with a smug tone of caution. She had to hide her eye roll.

When he was done impressing upon her the importance of creativity and resourcefulness, they spent about 15 minutes on proper stance and positioning. Dean then had her practicing a few punches into his hand. He watched her closely, providing quick, direct corrections that she tried her best to keep up with.

"OK, good," He praised flatly when she finally landed a succession of strong punches into his palm. He positioned himself in front of her as an opponent and ordered, "Now, try to punch me in the face."

George hesitated, dropping her shoulders a bit, "What?"

Dean quickly moved over to her and roughly shifted her body back into position. "I said," He then moved back in front of her, "Try to punch me in the face."

"...Are you sure?" She asked curiously. She couldn't deny that it did sound like fun.

Dean smirked smugly, "I'm sure. Try to punch me."

Hesitating for only a moment more before doing her best to maintain the ideal stance, she swung and missed predictably. He corrected a few things and advised, "You've got a good stance, you need to focus on follow-through; don't hold back because you think you might hurt me. Remember when you thought I was Michael and you came at me with the cleaver?"

George nodded, remembering, "Right, I do. That was terrifying--thought you were going to kill me."

"Exactly. You gotta use that fear and commit. And remember what I said: be creative, use all your resources. Just because you missed the first swing doesn't mean you need to stop."

Not entirely sure how to interpret his advice--was she supposed to grab a lamp and start swinging?--she mainly corrected her posture and tried three more times. She missed each time, but was improving.

She got back into position and took a determined breath, focusing her energy on landing her knuckles across his cocky face. Just as she was about to swing the cottage door opened and Sam walked in. Dean turned slightly to look at him and without thinking George swung as hard as she could. Her third knuckle took the brunt as she landed her fist on the top of his cheekbone and he jerked back slightly, letting out a grunt of pain and shock.

"Ow!" She howled, holding her now throbbing hand gently. Then, she stared at Dean, who was holding his hand up over his cheek. In shock, she blurted, "Oh my god, I--!"

"You punched me!" Dean shouted indignantly.

"I did!" She shouted happily back.

"Fuckin' cheap shot," Dean was annoyed but it was waning by the second, realizing he was actually impressed at how good the hit had been. For her, anyway.

"You told me to use any distraction! When you looked away, I saw my opportunity," George grinned proudly, her eyes wide still; she couldn't believe she'd actually hit him. Holding her hand tenderly, she looked at Sam with an amazed grin, "I punched Dean Winchester!" Sam was confused but her pride was charming, so he gave a small thumbs up and smiled. Walking over to her, he inspected her hand carefully for injury.

Dean walked over to the freezer, shaking his head, "Yea, yea, yea. Not bad, it might even leave a mark." Though his form of praise seemed sarcastic, he said it with sincerity causing her to beam. The only things in the freezer were a can of juice concentrate and an ice tray, both of which he pulled out and set on the counter, "but you still need to practice landing the hits when there aren't any distractions."

She rolled her eyes at his perfectionism and looked at Sam, who was gently poking and prodding her sore fingers, "Is he always like this?"

"Pfft. Didn't you say you watched the show?" Sam joked, guiding her over to the sink where Dean was wrapping some ice cubes in a dish towel. When they got close, Dean handed her the makeshift ice pack. Sam took it before she could and maneuvered her hand to rest gently, palm down in his, assessing, "It was a good punch but you want to try to land primarily with these top two knuckles." Sam kept hold of the ice pack with three fingers and extended his first two, placing them gently on her top two knuckles in demonstration. He explained, "They're the strongest. These back two are much weaker and very easily broken, or in your case, badly bruised. Boxing lessons?" Sam then asked his brother with a smirk. Dean shrugged affirmatively.

"How is it that I land a good punch and end up in more pain than you?" George grumbled at Dean, slowly getting distracted by Sam's tenderness.

"He's had more practice being punched than you've had punching people," Sam quipped, moving to lay the ice pack against her knuckles.

"That's very presumptuous-oowww! Son of a bitch!" She growled at him, flinching when the cold, stiff material pressed against her injury.

"Is it?" Sam teased her, pulling her hand back firmly, yet carefully, and placing the ice pack down more gently. George shivered a bit; from the icy temperature, of course, certainly not from his manhandling.

"Princess says what," Dean muttered at her with a laugh. Clearly having heard him, she stuck her tongue out at him quickly. Dean held the juice concentrate up to his cheek with a smirk, "Probably gonna need some more pain meds."

"Oh, actually that's why I came looking for you," Sam interjected, looking down at her. "Jack fell asleep after I got him dressed and back in bed. Thanks for changing the sheets, by the way," He smiled gratefully and she smiled back with a bit of a blush, her fingers wiggling against his palm.

"You're welcome," She murmured softly.

Sam paused, getting lost in her eyes, then explained, "Um, anyway, Lorna called and instructed me to give Jack his next round of fluids and meds. Figured you might need some too." The two lovebirds stared at each other for a beat, before Sam nodded toward his pants, "The pills are in my pocket." George momentarily considered reaching her uninjured hand into his front pocket and feeling around; when she met his eye briefly, she could tell he had the same thought. They both blushed.

"For fucks sake, you two," Dean scolded them, turning away to grab a glass of water. He considered tossing it on them.

"Uh, here--why don't I--" George awkwardly reached up and took the ice pack from Sam's hand, freeing him up to reach into his pocket for the pills. She set the rag of ice down carefully on the counter top to be able to then take the pills from him. Tossing them into her mouth, she took the water from Dean next and quickly gulped them down.

"Blech!" She hated the feeling of medicine on her tongue.

Sam grabbed the ice pack quickly and took her hand again, placing the ice gingerly on top. They began sharing googly eyes at each other once more. Dean rolled his eyes when they started giggling for no reason; he could tell his brother had it bad.

"Alright, well, if Jack's down, then I'm going to hit the sack, too. You crazy kids have fun." As much as he wanted to enjoy this, he figured he'd give Sam a break just this once. Maybe he was going soft. Or not, "Try to remember, the walls are thin and there are no doors, so keep the moaning down to a dull roar." With a smug smirk he headed up the stairs.

[thewistlingbadger]

I'm sorry but If you bastards think you are getting a suicide note from my ass, y'all are greatly mistaken. Why tf would i "speak my truth" when I've been doing that and no one wants to listen. i don't have anyone to leave a note to. So no, y'all won't get any "I'm sorry"'s or "l love you"'s from my ass. I'm not sorry for being suicidal and i won't be sorry for killing myself. Truth is i hope my death confuses people. I hope they go "what the fuck" when they find out. I hope they try to piece it together because they'll never know what i was going through. I hope it drives them insane. Realistically i know no one will care but still. I hope the fact that you could have done something and didn't haunts you for the rest of your life cuz you deserve it. Truth is I'm tired of being nice to non suicidal people. FUCK. YOU. Each and every one of you can and should FUCK OFF. Truth is i don't owe anyone a damn thing so don't think you're gonna get a note. Besides, it's what y'all wanted. It's what y'all asked for. And i better not here none of this "I'm gonna miss them" bullshit in the afterlife either cuz i will fuckin fuck your life up from beyond the grave. And obviously this don't apply to everyone but you know who you are. If you knew i was suicidal and didn't do jack shit about or just gave up, congratulations you're responsible for my death. And i will remind you that it's your fault till you die too. I don't care if it fucks you up. You deserved it.

[dinkydruid]

This makes me miss raving a bit, which is a funny feeling I get every so often. Raves are silly and carefree, oftentimes there is a great positive energy and, unfortunately, I think I grew away from them (partially due to the anxiety of being in any large group of people for any amount of time) but it kinda shaped my brain. (Not saying raves are just for youngins, saying I burnt myself out and changed. Different, not better.) Tbh I met my partner, albeit indirectly, bc of raving. Their brother and I met at a rave like 17 years ago, talked outside for hours even though I didn't and don't smoke and traded our biggest pieces. We both cried a little and that mf has been my brother ever since. Despite me not knowing him as anything but Rooster and him not knowing me as anything but Neuro or Pandahh for about a decade 😂 I feel like I should be embarrassed for admitting that BUT IM FUCKING NOT OK IM NOY EMBARRASSED ABOUT JACK SHIT. When Rooster's younger sibling wanted a fursuit, he told me, "I wouldn't let them go to anyone but the best and you're the best," which is very much a big fat fuckin' lie but boy did that stroke my ego. Got in touch with their sibling, fell in love with this wacky foxfluff @ubernoodle23 and here we are, I'mma get fucking married y'all. I owe raving so much more too, and I don't believe in cringe culture so P*L*U*R and be excellent to each other. Counterculture is weird but also really neat and worth investigating and appreciating, even if it doesn't seem like it's for you.

this video does more in 10 seconds than your fave’s entire filmography

[carcinoaquarium]

alright kk, don't say i didn't warn you lmao: Dearest Karkat, I am the anon whom you blessed with that dragon age tangent and i was bettered for it bc that tangent was great. When I played da:i I knew jack-all about the characters and literally only chose to be an elven female bc she had the most romantic options and I was going in thinking 'hell yeah imma romance the first available qunari of the series, you kidding me?' (1/7)

And then i chatted w solas and the literal first 'flirt' option w him is to tell him you aren't going to harass him for being an apostate and that was so /sad/ to think about, like he's so...lonely? Not to mention his greatest fear is dying alone?? Also he was hella intelligent and had interesting conversations and was suave as fuck, and I ended up being like "iron bull who?" and got my hEART RIPPED FROM MY CHEST, OW because solas has gotta be one of my fave villains in media to date. (2/7)

Also loghain, whom I didn't really appreciate until after I'd beheaded him. Whoops. Actually, I'd love to keep talking to you about dragon age?? i haven't been able to chat w a new(ish) fan in ages and these games have such depth. (also, dorian was absolutely my inquisitor's moirail, too, tbh. Although that's technically a romantic relationship, and Dorian is gay...? They're def BFFLs, tho, once Dorian was less racist against elves. Everyone in dai was kinda racist against elves.) (3/7)

Actually, elf Inquisitors kind of got a really fucking short stick in da:i. Not only did all of thedas hate them for being an elf, but there wasn't a single elf in that party that didn't challenge and beat on their religion (which is worse if they weren't already questioning it, as my inquisitor was), and even the people you can date don't seem to comfort you once your entire understanding of the world comes crashing down around your eyes. (4/7) (shit, i might hit the ask limit)

To a lesser extent this happens to the dwarves, too! Like, idk if you played the Descent dlc, but spoiler-free the dwarven religion is kind of picked apart and in the Tresspasser sequel we find out the ancient elves did a lot of shitty subjugating of the dwarven race, and not to mention the qunari are implied to be a race made through scientific genetic SPLICING of human and/or elven genes with fucking /dragons/, and it's like?? Man, give these fantasy races a break. (5/7)

Humans were the only ones who weren't really fucked with, they just kinda showed up from the north and invaded thedas while all that other political stuff was going on. But playing as a human's always seemed so boring to me, lmao. Did you play DA:O and DA2, too? (6/7) I feel like 200% nerd power right now,but the amount of effort and heart bioware put into these games is fascinating and i can't help but love dissecting it. Feel free to respond in private if u don't wanna clog ur blog w DA. (7/7)

--

YES. LET’S DO THIS. PROBABLY GOING TO BE A LONG REPLY SO I’LL READ MORE THIS SHIT.

ALTHOUGH I ONLY PERSONALLY PLAYED THROUGH ONE ROMANCE I OF COURSE HAD TO WATCH ALL OF THE COMPILATIONS ON YOUTUBE BECAUSE THAT’S JUST THE KIND OF GLUTTON I AM. SO YEAH. I AM FAMILIAR WITH SOLAS’ ROMANCE ARC. AND MAN I HAVE TO SAY YOU HAD TO BE MASOCHISTIC AS HELL TO RIDE THAT ONE OUT AND ENDURE THE MOST HEARTBREAKING OUTCOME OF THEM ALL. BLACKWALL WAS BAD ENOUGH, BUT AT LEAST, YOU KNOW, IT GETS BETTER IF YOU CHOOSE IT TO. 

DON’T GET ME WRONG, IT PLAYED OUT BEAUTIFULLY. BUT SADFPSDHFHSDF I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE SEE THAT THROUGH. 

AND I SERIOUSLY DID NOT SEE SOLAS’ TURN COMING. IT WAS AMAZING. HE WAS SO CONVINCING THE ENTIRE TIME. JUST THE BOOKISH APOSTATE ELF WHO LIKED TO PAINT MURALS AND FANBOY OVER THE FADE IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER. FUCKING. IAMBIC. PENTAMETER. THAT WAS PRETTY AMAZING. ERIDAN APPRECIATED THAT. ALTHOUGH IT WAS HARD NOT TO THINK OF SOLLUX WHEN WE SAID HIS NAME. ESPECIALLY ERIDAN. 

fuckin sol

BUT HOLY SHIT. I NEVER SAW IT COMING. AND YET WHEN YOU PLAYTHROUGH A SECOND TIME YOU SEE ALL THE LITTLE HINTS. MY SECOND PLAYTHROUGH WAS FULL OF ME SCREAMING AT THE SCREEN 

“OOOOOH, SUUUUUUURE. TELL ME YOUR VAGUE ASS REASON FOR BEING HERE AGAIN, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT.”

“I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE, DREAD WOLF. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? THE FADE IS BORING. SPIRITS ARE BORING.”

“MAYBE I SHOULD SKIP THESE ELVEN PUZZLES THIS TIME, EGGSPONGE. OR MAYBE PISS IN THIS WELL. OR FIGHT THE IMMORTAL ELF DUDE. HMMMM??"

“I’M RUBBING MY BULGE AAAAALLL OVER THIS FEN’HAREL STATUE. YEAH. THAT’S RIGHT. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT??”

“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO GIVE YOU A *HAND* WITH THAT QUEST??? OH I BET YOU WOULD.”

SERIOUSLY THOUGH I THOUGHT THE WAY SOLAS’ CHARACTER ARC UNROLLED WAS MASTERFUL. THE WAY HE PULLS THE INQUISITOR ASIDE NEAR THE END OF THE MAIN GAME TO TELL THEM THAT THEY EXCEEDED HIS EXPECTATIONS AND THAT HE TRULY VALUES THEM AS A FRIEND... I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER REALLY KNOW IF HE MEANT IT BUT I LIKE TO THINK HE DID. AND THAT IT GENUINELY SURPRISED HIM THAT THE PERSON HE WAS OUT TO MANIPULATE NEARLY CHANGED HIS WORLD VIEW IN THE END. THAT’S HOW YOU WRITE A THREE DIMENSIONAL ANTAGONIST.

FFFF. THE RACE SHENANIGANS. DRAGON AGE AND SKYRIM REALLY LIKE TO PLAY UP THE DISCRIMINATION AND OUTRIGHT PERSECUTION OF ELVES, WHICH STANDS IN SHARP CONTRAST TO THE TOLKIENIAN LORE IT ALL STEMS FROM WHERE ELVES ARE (MOSTLY) POWERFUL AND RESPECTED AMONG HUMANS. I LIKE IT THOUGH. IT’S AN INTERESTING SPIN. THE DWARF HATE TOO. I FUCKING LOVED THE WAY THE ORLEASIAN COURT NOT-SO-COVERTLY THREW SHADE AT YOU IN THE WINTER PALACE FOR BEING A DIRTY LOWBLOOD INFERIOR RACE. IT MADE PUTTING THEM ALL IN THEIR PLACE A WHOLE LOT SWEETER. AGAIN. WISH FULFILLMENT.

I HAVE TO AGREE THOUGH THAT THE GAME SOMETIMES KIND OF DID A SHITTY JOB OF ACKNOWLEDGING THE ELF AND DWARF INQUISITORS’ PERSONAL STRUGGLES WITH THEIR RACE, AND I GUESS THAT COMES DOWN TO THE SHIPLOAD OF DIALOGUE CUSTOMIZATION THE DEVS ALREADY HAD ON THEIR PLATE. I REMEMBER BEING ESPECIALLY PISSED OFF TALKING TO DAGNA WHERE SHE FUCKING SEEMED TO FORGET NELLIE WAS *ALSO* A DWARF HALF THE FUCKING TIME. 

AND THEN OTHER TIMES THE GAME WAS RANDOMLY REALLY GOOD IN THAT REGARD. IT WAS HIT AND MISS. ERIDAN DID AN ELF PLAYTHROUGH THAT I SAT IN ON AND I REMEMBER HOW COOL IT WAS BEING ABLE TO INTERACT WITH THE DALISH CLAN IN THAT INSIDER KIND OF WAY. BUT IT’S TRUE THAT PRETTY MUCH NONE OF THE ROMANTIC INTERESTS GIVE YOUR RACE MORE THAN *ONE* PASSING MENTION. CULLEN’S ROMANCE WITH A MAGE PLAYS WAY MORE HEAVILY INTO THINGS THAN SAY THE FACT THAT MALE LAVELLAN CAN DATE A GODDAMN *TEVINTER* ALTUS AND THE SLAVE THING IS BROUGHT UP A GRAND TOTAL OF ONCE.   

AND AS A SIDENOTE THE FACT THAT IF YOU CHOOSE THE NECROMANCER MAGE SPECIALIZATION, DORIAN-THE-GOD-DAMN-NECROMANCER HAS FUCK ALL TO SAY ABOUT IT. EVEN IF YOU ROMANCE HIM. WHICH AMPORA DID. AND HE WAS PISSED. 

SPEAKING OF AMPORA, HE ACTUALLY DID ROLL A HUMAN AT FIRST, BUT FIVE MINUTES IN HE WAS SO BORED WITH HIS CHARACTER HE ALMOST GAVE UP THE GAME FOR GOOD. SO YEAH. I FEEL YOU THERE. 

BUT YEAH. THE SUGAR COATING ON THE CONFECTIONERY ITEM IS DEFINITELY THE FACT THAT THE GAME HINGES ON BASICALLY SOLAS DESTROYING DALISH LEGITIMACY. AND AS A DALISH INQUISITOR IT’S LIKE. OH. OK. SURE. MY LIFE WAS A LIE. NO BIG DEAL. NOW WHO’S READY FOR A VACATION IN TEVINTER BECAUSE BOY HOWDY ME AND MY QUNARI FRIEND ARE DOWN FOR SOME FIRST CLASS NORTHERN HOSPITALITY.

AS MUCH AS I CAN COMPLAIN ABOUT A LOT OF IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I NEVER PLAYED THE PREVIOUS GAMES BUT I ABSORBED THE DRAGON AGE WIKI AND I THINK I HAVE A PRETTY GOOD UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT WENT DOWN. I HAVE DA:O AND I DO PLAN ON PLAYING IT SOME TIME.

THE SADDEST PART IS THAT IT SEEMS PRETTY CERTAIN THAT THE SERIES IS PERMA-DEAD. AND I ACTUALLY WAS REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WHERE THEY SEEMED TO BE TAKING IT. IT’S A FUCKING SHAME.

[eldian-siren]

Two polarizing emotions began warring for control inside Cyrica's mind--sadness and sympathy for what Ymir felt she had to do to set things right ... and white-hot rage at the knowledge that at the end of the day, this was exactly the outcome the Marleyans hoped for. Ymir would die and they would have the Jaw Titan back under their control. Why did Ymir's atonement have to entail playing right into a hated enemy's hand? Or did it...? Perhaps there was another way for bridges to be mended, that didn't result in Ymir's untimely death and the empowerment of the Marleyans. Cyrica at least felt obligated to try ... and not merely to deprive her foe of a powerful weapon. It simply wasn't fair that at such a pivotal moment of self-awareness, Ymir would lose her life, unable to do any measure of good in the world with that moment of personal growth. All that potential wasted. It wasn't going to happen. Gritting her teeth in frustration, Cyrica firmly but gently gripped the taller woman by the shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet. "Y'know what? You're right. You're absolutely right. The words 'I'm sorry', by themselves, don't mean jack shit. But y'know what does? Action. You dying to give the Jaw Titan back, that's a one and done--you can't do anything else in this world to make things better after that, because you're gone. So 'grats, your final act of redemption is to give the people who banished you to the wastes as a titan in the first place their beloved power back. What the fuck kind noble act is that? Who does that help?!" Taking a moment to calm herself back down, Cyrica heaved a hard frustrated sigh, though her expression and voice softened significantly. "Look ... you've already taken the most important step--being aware. From here? There's no limit to what you can do and accomplish. Why waste a gift like that by staying stuck under the boot heel of those Marleyan fucks? I'm gonna tell you exactly what I told Reiner--fuck ... them. They don't deserve Reiner's loyalty, and you sure as shit don't owe them a damn thing after what they did." Slowly, she released her hold upon Ymir's shoulders, her hands dropping down her arms to gently take hold of the other woman's hands. "I distinctly remember you tellin' Historia that you wanted her to live a life she could be proud of. It's time you took your own fuckin' advice."

Having anything resembling a candid conversation with Ymir, that didn’t include snide remarks and petty jabs, was … a relatively foreign concept to Cyrica, in all the time she had known her during their days in the Corps. And that wasn’t necessarily for one-sided reasons, either. Both of them had always been equally abrasive in their socializing, simply as a matter of course. Granted, Cyrica’s own reasons for doing so were a bit more complex … but the end result was the same–neither of the women was ever very well-liked among their peers. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ymir had Historia throughout it all, despite her rough demeanor. A fact that never failed to dumbfound Cyrica, any which way she thought about it. Maybe Historia had merely sensed the ‘real’ Ymir sitting beneath that prickly exterior, which she herself was only just now catching a glimpse of. She sighed softly, combing her nails through her hair thoughtfully as she weighed the other woman’s words. “Well, see … that’s the thing. I never even really knew Marcel. Hell, at the time I didn’t know any of them, apart from the fact they were titan shifters loyal to Marley. And back then, that made them all my enemies.” There was a twinge of something resembling shame as Cyrica paused, adding with no small amount of hesitation, “Truth is … I was kinda glad when I saw you eat him, fucked up as that sounds. All it meant to me at the time was one less Marleyan spy to have to work against. But understanding the truth of all their situations now … well … it’s given me a different point of view.” She lifted her gaze back up to Ymir with a half-hearted smile. “Even so? I still don’t fault you for what happened. You were basically an animal at that point, running purely on instinct. You’re being too hard on yourself.”

@eldian-siren​

Hard to believe that just a short time before she was free. Swinging in the trees, or laughing with Historia…..poking jabs at the recruits who thought they were tough shit that could take on anything.

Compared to what she had seen in the past, it had been almost…..paradise.

But now her world had crashed and she was now back in the place that had sentenced her to die for no fault of her own. All because she was made to think she was a god…..a god among godless men.

“……You wanna know the truth? I lied. I told these guys I didn’t remember who I ate to….be able to be free again. But that wasn’t true. I see weird things when I close my eyes.

Like I’m seeing life through someone else’s eyes. I knew I recognized them somehow….”

She had sworn up and down that she’d only live for herself. Screw everyone, she deserved a life after everything she went through. Who cared if a nobody got eaten just so she could be free again?

There were a ton of faceless people eaten every day. One more wouldn’t count!

Except….this one did. She could see that now….even waking up after years in a nightmare she could feel pain and fear and terror…..terror that wasn’t hers. The memory of a terrified little blonde boy, being pushed away. Huge eyes wide as he watched someone be devoured alive….

Now when she saw the kid…..she saw Reiner. Reiner, everyone’s best friend. The guy she sensed something off about. Reiner….the guy who now lost everything, and returned home in disgrace.

“…….I remember seeing a blonde kid just…..staring at me. Like he couldn’t move. I remember teeth closing in around me as I just kept feeling guilt. I didn’t know why…..but I know now….”

Oddly enough….she almost felt a kinship to the holder of the armored Titan. They were both going back outcasts, betraying their real home for a place that would kill them. Her faster than him…..she knew her time was limited.

“ I guess saying I’m sorry won’t cut it. Especially after……what happened to his boyfriend…..”