#put it on the list of stuff you can blame jess for

[todayisafridaynight]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME BRO I COULD CRYYYYYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭😭I hope it does not disappoint... REAL THOUGH about the drama you mentioned in your tags, that's exactly how I felt reading If My Wife Becomes An Elementary School Student's title, for example, but I'm told it's wholesome☠️☠️I would love to hear about the one you were thinking of though!

I WILL BEAR IT IN MIND TO PREPARE FOR ARACHTAGON WHENEVER THE TIME COMES... totally understandable to get frustrated with RNG on top of that, RPGs can be so evil 😭😭😭still, again, I'm glad you're back to it! Also totally understandable to want to play on the original consoles... NOTHING beats the experience... the availability of playthroughs nowadays is nice for sure to be able to experience the series without investing that much!

I would LOVE to see more Normal interactions between Ichiban and Jo for real😭they have so much potential for silly moments... ever-thankful for your content and I Can't Say Enough always looking forward to whatever you might have in store :] whether it's that or something else :]

I EXPECT YOU'RE DONE WITH EPISODE EIGHT NOW AT MINIMUM SO I WILL JUST SAY the Ohashi arc and Episode Ø [<- why the hell is ep eight called this] are peak to me I am soooo glad you enjoyed the arc... LOVE the OST too, Yugo Kanno is a legend. HOWEVER all the songs on it are titled words that start with S and P so you get titles like Scarlet Pussy 😭

OH BUT SPEAKING OF SP'S WACKASS STRUCTURE pleeeeeaaaase consider watching SP: The Motion Picture and SP: The Motion Picture: The Final Episode after you finish the show... there is A Cliffhanger and those are the true conclusions to the story... and SP Final In Specific is what blew my nuts clean off...

STOPPP NO THAT'S EXACTLY THE DRAMA I WAS TALKING ABOUT BUT I DIDNT WANNA SNITCH ON MYSELF 😭😭 it really is a cute show..... im ngl it has some of my fave tsutsumi scenes/performances like it TRULY blew my expectations out of the water. i just feel SOOO awkward about it cause.. with a title like That and a premise Like That i wouldnt blame a single person for giving me a weird ass look so i generally try not to talk about it ☠️ its my guilty treat so to speak and i cant even tell if im making it sound worse than it actually is (╯x╰ )

in any case... i finished Security Police SO !!! onto After The Rain for me when it comes to Media Thats Awkward To Talk About But Please Believe Me When I Say Its Not What You're Thinking :]

LMAO PLEASE like... so long as you have the right equipment you don't even really have to do much extra grinding by the time you get to him... it truly is just hoping RNG doesnt dick you over ☠️ i've been cruising through the game since tho ! i dont expect myself to get into anymore awkward blockades anytime soon and then i can finally say i finished this game (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

THANK YA THANK YA it aint much but its honest work..... i have been real dead this week tho and i always get scared if ill draw again durin periods like this- i HOPE to come up with something soon cause there really is an untapped well of Good Stuff to be explored :]]

THE SOUND DESIGN OF SP WAS REALLY GOOD IN GENERAL THOUGH LIKE not just music wise was it good but i really loved hos inoue's migraines gave me migraines... immersion... but also just knowing when to keep things dead silent (like finding nishijima's corpse) did SOOO well to put emphasis.. the weird as hell names are just bonus points by now like. Gotta Let Bro Have SOMETHING As A Thank You For The Sound Design (╯▽╰ ;;) OH BUT IM GLAD THERE'S MOVIE TIE-INS CAUSE THE LAST SCENE HAD ME CONCERNICUS LIKE 👁️👁️? i was only able to find the first 2010 movie on the site i usually go to but its somethin...

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week Day 1: Drunken Dare

Words: 1977

Notes: Bechloe week 2024 let’s go!!!! Who knows how many prompts I’ll be doing this year, but I can promise at least 2 😅

Read on AO3

-

The house was in complete chaos when Beca returned from her internship that night. 

It was packed to bursting with Bellas, Trebles, and any other campus a capella group that had managed to snag an invite.

The music was deafening, but Beca was pleased to hear they were at least playing one of her mixes.

“Beca, you made it!” Stacie called out when she saw her leaning against the front door, surveying the carnage in front of her.

“Made it? Dude, I live here too,” Beca replied. 

“I meant, like, made it to the party,” Stacie said, rolling her eyes. “Here.” She pushed a shot into Beca’s hand. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“I don’t really feel like it, Stace,” Beca said, trying to give it back to her. “I’m just gonna go hide out in my room, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do.”

“Boo!” Stacie said, hands in the air as she refused to take the shot glass back. “I know you’re bummed about Jesse-”

“-I’m really not,” Beca interrupted.

“But you can’t just sulk in your room all night,” Stacie carried on as if there’d been no interruption. “Get yourself out there, you’re young, free, and single!”

Beca sighed and downed the shot, her face twisting at the taste. “I’m good,” she said. “Thanks.”

She put the shot glass on the first clear surface she found and climbed the stairs up to her and Amy’s attic bedroom. 

She signed again when she saw the Bellas scarf tied to the doorknob.

She didn’t want to stick around long enough to hear what was going on behind that door, so she quickly turned and made her way back down to the second-floor landing. 

Chloe’s door was part-way open, and Beca gave a cautious knock before she pushed it open further and went inside, pulling out her phone as she did.

Beca: Amy and Bumper are in my room again so I’m hiding out in yours, hope that’s okay. Let me know if you need it back and I’ll make myself scarce x

Chloe was no stranger to hooking up with people at parties, and Beca didn’t want to cock-block her best friend just because she was trying to avoid socialising.

She sat at Chloe’s desk, took her laptop out of her bag, pulled on her headphones, and started working on their set list for the Worlds.

“There you are!” Chloe said happily, pulling open her bedroom door. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I sent a text,” Beca said, taking off her headphones and grinning as Chloe pulled out her phone and closed one eye to see it. 

“So you did,” she said. “Why are you hiding?”

Beca shrugged. “Too many people,” she said.

“Yeah, it is getting a little out of hand out there,” Chloe said.

“So do you need the room back?” Beca asked. “I can go to the library or-”

“No,” Chloe said. “You’re good.”

Beca nodded. “Don’t let me keep you from all that,” she said, gesturing to the party that continued to rage outside Chloe’s door.

“You aren’t keeping me,” Chloe said. “I came here looking for you.”

“Oh. How come?”

Chloe’s grin widened, and she withdrew the hand that had been held behind her back. In it, she held a bottle of tequila. “I seem to recall the last time you flaked on a party you promised me you’d make it up to me.”

“Seriously?” Beca asked. “You want to cash that in now?”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Chloe replied. “Come on, you’ve been all mopey since Jesse left-

“-I haven’t been mopey-”

“-and you need to let loose a little and have some fun,” Chloe said. She took a seat cross-legged on the floor and gestured for Beca to join her. 

If it had been anyone else asking, Beca would have said no, but she’d never been very good at turning down Chloe, so she saved the mix she was working on and joined Chloe on the floor.

“If I’m hungover tomorrow I’m going to blame you,” Beca said, accepting the bottle from Chloe and taking a drink. She grimaced and handed it back. “You couldn’t have swiped something a little better tasting?”

“You don’t drink it because it tastes good,” Chloe said, taking a drink herself. 

Truth be told, Beca did need this. She’d been so stressed out from prepping for the Worlds, working at her internship and, yes, breaking up with Jesse, that she needed a night out of her head. She needed a little fun.

“We should play truth or dare,” Chloe announced. She opened up Spotify on her phone and hit play on one of the many playlists Beca had compiled for her over the years. Music began playing through Chloe’s Bluetooth speaker, and it all but drowned out the party taking place outside the door. 

“Truth or dare?” Beca asked. “Is that a good idea? Anytime we play that someone usually ends up in the ER.”

“Lily isn’t playing, I think we should be safe,” Chloe said. 

“Lily wasn’t the one who dared Amy to slide down the stairs on the drinks tray,” Beca pointed out.

“No, but Lily was the one who dared Jessica and Ashley to play five-finger fillet,” Chloe said, shuddering at the memory. “And, in my defence, I also slid down the stairs on the tray and I didn’t get hurt. I think her technique was all wrong.”

“Fine,” Beca said, “as long as there are no knife games, no Evel Knievel stunts, and no running through the party naked, we can play truth or dare.”

“Spoil sport,” Chloe said with a pout. “You can go first, truth or dare?”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“Because you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Chloe said, gesturing for Beca to take a drink. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Beca said.

“How come you and Jesse broke up?”

“Jesus, we’re jumping right into that one, huh?” Beca asked. Chloe shrugged and waited for a response. Beca took a drink, not because she was backing out of the question, but because she felt like she needed a little more liquid courage. “Long distance never works,” she said, remembering the conversation she and Jesse had had when he told her about the job offer he’d gotten in L.A.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Chloe said. 

It was Beca’s turn to shrug, and she tried to hand the bottle back to Chloe.

“That’s all I get?”

“That’s all there is to it,” Beca said. “He moved, I didn’t, so we broke up.”

“You guys didn’t even want to try it out? It’s not like it would have been forever, you’re moving out to L.A. once you graduate, right?”

Chloe still hadn’t taken the bottle back, so Beca took another drink. “I don’t know what I’m doing after I graduate,” she said. “If things go well with the internship then I might stick around in Barden.” She brushed her thumb along the edge of the bottle’s label. The corner was just starting to peel up. “To be honest I was kind of relieved when Jesse told me he was leaving. We got together so young and… I dunno, I kinda knew it wasn’t going to be forever with him, and I think he felt the same. We’d been drifting apart, arguing a bunch, this just felt like a chance for a clean break.”

Chloe nodded and took the bottle back for another drink. “I didn’t know you guys were having problems.”

“It was all just stupid shit,” Beca said. “Like we were just filling time so we didn’t have to talk about the fact that we weren’t right together.” Beca shook her head. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s done, we’re done, and I honestly feel pretty okay about it.”

“Well, good,” Chloe said, brightening up. “I’m glad.”

“Anyway, it’s your turn,” Beca said. “Truth or dare?”

They played until the bottle was almost empty, and they ended up lying and giggling on Chloe’s bedroom floor.

Their heads were close to each other as they stared up at the ceiling. Arms touching, elbows pressing into ribs. If they turned their heads, their noses would have brushed against each other. 

“Have I ever told you how adorable it is that you’ve got glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling?” Beca asked, squinting up. She was considerably drunker than she had been an hour ago, and the stars above her seemed to be multiplying. 

“I don’t think you have,” Chloe replied. “But thank you, they are pretty adorable.”

One song faded into the next as they both continued to stare up at the ceiling.

“Beca?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare?”

Beca laughed. “Dare,” she said. 

There was a pause while Chloe thought.

“I dare you to kiss me,” she said. There was a vulnerability in her voice that Beca hadn’t heard before, and it was that, more than the question, that caused Beca to turn her head and look at her.

“What?” Beca asked.

“I dare you to kiss me,” Chloe said again. There was a look in her eyes that Beca couldn’t quite place, but she knew Chloe was serious. She also knew that this wasn’t going to be one of those kisses that drunk girls do with their friends sometimes. She’d seen Chloe play spin the bottle - had seen her kiss almost all of the Bellas - but there was something different in her voice and expression. Something sobering. Something that told Beca that this was a big deal. That her asking was a big deal.

“Are you sure?” Beca asked.

Chloe nodded. “If you want to,” she said. “Do you want to?”

“Yes,” Beca answered, honestly.

“So kiss me.”

Beca did.

It started as a soft press against the lips that quickly deepened and got heated.

They made out on the floor for what felt like hours, long after the playlist had ended and the party had wrapped up.

Every time they broke apart for air one would pull the other back in. Neither wanted to stop.

It was only when the soft light of the morning began creeping in through the gap in Chloe’s blinds that they finally gave in. Lips numb, cheeks and chests flushed, they lay together on Chloe’s bedroom floor.

“I should go,” Beca mumbled, eyes closing at the feeling of Chloe’s hand trailing through her hair.

“You don’t have to,” Chloe replied. “You could stay.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course,” Chloe said. “Stay.”

“Can we at least get off the floor?” Beca asked, and she smiled when she felt Chloe’s chest vibrate with her laugh beneath her head.

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

Exhausted and already beginning to feel the effects of their hangovers, they climbed off the floor and into Chloe’s bed. 

“What happens now?” Beca asked, finding her eyes drawn to Chloe’s lips again. 

“With us?” Chloe asked. Beca nodded.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said. “I don’t want this to be something we regret in the morning.”

“I won’t regret it,” Chloe said.

“Me neither. But I, um, I can’t do the casual relationship thing,” Beca said. “I can’t do the friends-with-benefits thing. If that’s all this is then we should call it now.”

“That isn’t what I want either,” Chloe said. “Bec I… I like you. I have for a long time. And I know it’s soon - you and Jesse just broke up a few weeks ago - but, well, I guess this is me shooting my shot. I like you. I’d like to take you out on a date and see where this thing goes.”

Beca couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. “I’d like that,” she said.

Chloe smiled back and leaned in to kiss her again, all thoughts of going to sleep pushed aside.

[stitched-mouth]

List of Every Brandon Rogers Characters Ever

I don’t know why I did this. It took 4 hours. I haven’t seen ever Brandon Rogers video (shocking, I know) so some are missing. I purposely didn’t add any parody characters (the Kardashians, Annabell, M3GAN etc), but if you notice any BRCU characters missing, please comment so I can add them.

And obviously the characters not credited are played by Brandon Rogers.

David July is credited as David Burton on this list. I’m not sure when they changed their name, as they are credited as both on Brandon’s videos.

I can’t remember who Debbie and Doyle are but I must of put them on this list for a reason

Main Characters

Sam

Bryce Tankthrust

Bobby Worst

Blame/Sebastian/ Grandpa

Elmer

Cathy

Karen

Helen Brownstein

Stuff & Sam

Donna Phitts (Paulette Jones)

Damien (Onision)

Ms Cunney (Monique Parent)

Blame the Hero

Young Donna Phitts (Alariza Nevarez)

Duke Tuggler (Anthony Padilla)

Coach Best (Jack Plotnick)

Skinny Bitch (Kornbread Jeté)

Dill Flippo (Jonathan Hinman)

Family Doctor Office

Dr Gupta

Nurse Kavi (Nandini Minocha)

Lipschtiz the Clown (Paulette Jones)

Surgeon Miller (Jude B. Lanston)

Nurse Hole (Georgina Leahy)

Patient (Adam Neylan)

Another Patient (Jonathan Hinman)

Daniel (Jess Weaver)

Daniel’s Mother (Christine Sydelko)

Mad tea party

Mad Hatter

Cheshire Cat (Bazil)

White Rabbit (Benjamin Alexander Hall)

The Jabberwocky (Natalie Hawkins)

Flower (Jordan)

No one was credited in this video and most were personal friends of Brandon’s and not content creators so are nearly impossible to find. I had to stalk Brandon’s Insta to find these people.

BTW, Bazil (who plays Cheshire Cat) is a trans man who goes by he/him. Just letting people know because people are misgendering him and I assume it’s because they don’t know his pronouns.

Theatre Class

Alex Rimmer

Mason Lucas (Salim Razawi)

Oliver Hamilton (Stephen Weighill)

Linda Starford (Janet McCarroll)

Karen Shou (Karen Fokes)

Jamie (Adam Neylan)

Marlena Lewton (Rachael Ferris)

Dean Shaft (Tony Rogers)

Trump’s Emotions

Joy

Anger (Stephen James)

Disgust, Fear and Sadness were not credited in this skit and I can’t guess with all the makeup or find them.

Fashion

Jurgen Klausvonschwitz

Damien Ditsin (Logan Bubar)

Gretchen (Paulette Jones)

Sookilah (Judyth Brooke)

Dolorio (Devyne Carr)

Cheap Skate

Luxy

Lost Boy (Adam Neylan)

Chick Flick (the first Brandon Roger’s Video I ever watched)

Ashley

Ashley’s Best Friend (Vincent Marcus)

Ashley’s Crush / Cop (Jon Cozart)

Ashley’s Mom (Christine Sykdelko)

Teacher (Jude B. Lanston)

Doctor (Jonathan Hinman)

The Real Patient/ Dick’s Owner (Skye Williams)

The Real Patient’s Wife (Adam Neylan)

5 Year Old (Paulette Jones)

Since this video is now restricted on YouTube, I did this one from memory. I can’t believe I remember all these characters and actors. Thank God I rewatched it like a billion times when I first found it.

Mad funhouse

Mr Marbles/ Arlo

Dave (Jess Weaver)

Cliff (TJ Smith)

Sacha (Elise Christian)

Jimmy (Alex Diehl)

Manjusha (Nandini Minocha)

Mr Chronis (Jude Lanston)

Nuclear family

Barbara

Frank

Daniel/ Echo Noir

Unnamed Daughter

Devontay (?) (Devyne Carr)

The Office

Dorian Ditsin

James Shaft (Stephen Rezza)

Vishalam Rangan (Natalie Hawkins)

Jimmy Rustler (Benjamin Hall)

Craig Dildon (Stephen James)

Ernie (Seth Munson)

Diesel (David Burton)

Kevin (Davis Benz)

Regina (Georgina Leahy)

British Family/ The Mingeworthys

Lord Mingeworthy

Lady Mingeworthy (Georgina Leahy)

Cockwaddle (David Burton)

James (Davis Benz)

Blood & Makeup

Blah Blah the Clown

Whoopsie Wendy (Elise Christian)

Dumb Bitch Linda (Kornbread Jeté)

Blonde Bitch (David Burton)

Percy the Pervert (Adam Neylan)

Christmas Family/ The Hendersons

Patty Henderson

Paul Henderson (Stephen James)

Shelby Henderson (Caleb Shorey)

Unnamed Daughter (Elise Christian)

Spike (Logan Bubar)

The Devil (Paulette Jones)

Uncle Frank (Gabriel Gonzalez)

Notice how often Brandon forgets to name the daughter in his skits 👀?

Silly Cat

Clifton

Lenny/ Daddy (Jon Cozart)

Dr Williams (Sky Williams)

Wild West

Lucius Cowpussy

Vivian Delonprix (Georgina Leahy)

Map Maker Milton (Logan Bubar)

Lesbians

Darlene

Kathleen (Adam Neylan)

Power (David Burton)

Rock (Georgina Leahy)

Damien (?) (Logan Bubar)

Cheaters

Trina

Delilah

Gustavo

Unnamed Husband

Sleep Paralysis Demons

Felix

Iris (Paulette Jones)

Chad (Gary Nohealii Neil)

The Laundromat

Clyde Can

Bart (Joel Haver)

Debra (Mitsy Sanderson)

Barbara Ditliminor (?) (Adam Neylan)

The North Pole (included this group for fun)

Santa Clause

Mrs Clause (Christine Sydelko)

Gingerbread Man (Jude B. Lanston)

Female Elf (Georgina Leahy)

Male Elf (David Burton)

Head Elf (Kornbread Jeté)

Jesus (Jess Weaver)

Rudolph (Paulette Jones)

Tiny Tim (Jack Plotnick)

Characters I Didn’t Know Where To Put

Suck (Dominiq Badiyo)

Swallow (David Burton)

Beatrice Brownstein (Paulette Jones)

Judey Patoody (Jude B. Lanson)

Gloria Goopty (Kornbread Jeté)

Courtney (Liam Krug)

Ryder (Kassius Marcil-Green)

Barbara Worst (Katie Johnson)

American boyfriend (Ben Furney)

Ignaolo (Gabriel Gonzalez)

Debbie (Trevor Wallace)

Doyle (Trevor Wallace)

Carol Cox

Japanese Girlfriend

Deeno

Flint Dicker

Delmar Lysol

Humanoid Simulation XL-57692/ Simian

Double Licker Leroy

Paisley

Hole Bros

Rafał Sanchez Dimelo

Noah

Bryce is my favourite

[novelconcepts]

fic: something to hang on to

When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. They’re driving through Virginia, stopped off at a little gas station; Dani’s outside filling the rental Jeep, which puts Jamie on snack-duty. At the counter, she spots a display of disposable cameras and, almost without thinking, adds one to the pile of sugar and caffeine. It isn’t a plan. Isn’t for any particular reason. 

Dani, pawing through the plastic bag of their spoils, raises it from a mess of M&Ms and Pringles and says, “You like photography?” She asks it the way she asks everything, like every little detail she learns about Jamie is another brand-new color added to the shine of the world. Jamie shrugs. 

“Never was much for it, but this brave new land is pretty enough. Don’t mind keeping track of it for later.”

It’s more than that, she thinks as Dani raises the viewfinder to her eye and clicks a photo of Jamie behind the wheel, one hand steering, the other stretching across the center console to rest on Dani’s knee. I almost lost you once, Poppins. Wouldn’t have had anything but my own memory to remember you by. This...this will help. 

Later, much later, years later, Jamie will look back on that moment as one of her wisest. Later, on a bed she can no longer sleep in, holding a thick album between shaking hands, she’ll think some of the most important choices you ever make are split-second recklessness. A camera, tossed in at the last second. A habit, built on nothing more than needing Dani’s smile immortalized. 

Open the album. Take a breath. Flip the page. 

***

A photo: Dani sprawled on a red-and-white beach towel, chin propped on folded arms, gazing out away from the camera as though she has no idea anyone is watching.

They’re with Henry and the kids--the first time they’ve seen the Wingrave family since the events at the house, and, though they don’t know it, one of the last times they’ll see them all together--in Florida. It’s strange, Jamie reflects, watching Miles chase Flora across an endless strip of sand. Strange how much world can fit into one country. England was green, rolling with hill and fog and haunted by things older than any of them can imagine. Florida feels...young, somehow. Too warm, too bright, too perfect on a Saturday afternoon. 

She’s hugging her knees, seated on a blanket with Dani sitting just an inch further away than she’d like. It’s the safe thing, the smart thing, but she misses her--misses the way they sit in hotel rooms and empty bars, knees touching, pinkies overlapping. Dani, in a sundress that matches the blue of her right eye, is laughing as Miles grabs Flora around the middle and tries with all his ten-year-old strength to hoist her off the ground. 

“Miles,” Henry calls, his voice laden with the anxiety of a man who has only just begun learning how to parent. “Miles, be careful--”

“They’re all right,” Jamie interrupts, tossing a handful of warm sand toward Henry’s precarious perch on a plastic chair. "Have you been wound this tight the whole fucking time?”

He looks pained. “You’ll excuse me for never having raised two children before. They’ve been a bit...”

“Precocious?” Dani suggests brightly. 

“Demonic?” Jamie says at the same time. Henry sighs. 

“Adventurous, shall we say, to meet in the middle.”

“They haven’t been...” Dani’s smiling, the way Jamie has grown accustomed to over the last few months: a beautiful smile that never entirely reaches her eyes. It’s the way she smiles when she thinks she needs to wear a mask of stability, when she needs everyone to think she’s doing all right. 

Henry frowns. “Haven’t been what?”

Dani shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Scared? Having nightmares? I don’t know...”

She’s asking-not-asking about that night, like she told Jamie she wasn’t going to do. They don’t need me bringing it up, she’d said back at the hotel, holding tight to Jamie in a way that said she very much needed to talk about this against her own will. They deserve to just live their lives. 

Henry looks puzzled. “Strange, but no. No nightmares. Flora had a few at the very start, before we left London, but...no. Not since arriving here.”

Dani nods like this is all she wants to hear, and rubs her cheek with one slightly-sunburnt hand, the moment passing into obscurity as Flora shrieks and Miles trips directly into an oncoming wave. It’s all good here, all sunshine and ease of temper, and Jamie watches Henry stand. Brush off shorts that look truly insane set against his pale legs. Go awkward-jogging into the surf to lift a giggling Flora heavenward. 

“They make a fine little family,” she says, pitching her voice so only Dani can hear. Dani nods. There’s a tightness to her mouth that says she’s only half here, only half able to let the sun bake away the shadows. Jamie touches her ankle lightly, wishing they were somewhere less requiring of distance. 

“I’m all right,” Dani says. Not a lie of intent, at least, though Jamie suspects it’s more that she wants to be all right. She watches Dani roll onto her front, eyes on the endless ocean, the children tumbling around in its gentle grasp, the man doing his best to keep up. 

Could watch her forever, Jamie thinks, knowing it’s far too early to say something so catastrophically huge. She’s been having these thoughts more and more, wild notions of turning this brand-new adventure with Dani into a lifetime event. It turns a key somewhere deep within her chest, some far-off engine making a deep rumbling sound that sends her tripping toward a very real, very powerful feeling of terror. 

Her hand slips toward the bag of sunscreen, paperback novels, sliced oranges. A camera, small and yellow and used mainly in moments like this one, emerges. Dani never notices as she brings it to her eye, frames Dani’s blonde ponytail and sun-pink skin, snaps a photo. 

Later, when the pictures are developed and spread out across a hotel bedspread, shots of Miles with an orange-peel grin and Flora standing before a monster of a sandcastle intercut with Dani’s far-off pensive expression, Dani will touch the print. Lingeringly, fingers trembling just the slightest bit.

“Why this one?”

Because I loved you more than words could capture, Jamie will know it’s far too early to say. It’d be reckless. It’d be testing the bounds of something still fragile, still one-day-at-a-time hopeful. 

“Why not?” she’ll say, and tuck the photo safely back into its sleeve. 

***

A photo: Jamie and Dani, backs to the freshly painted Leafling sign, standing carefully apart with shoulders back and a small bouquet of flowers clutched in Dani’s hands.

They keep to themselves, mainly, but some of the nearby shopkeepers have been kind as The Leafling goes from mad late-night concept to brick-and-mortar reality. They bring welcome-to-the-block plants and casseroles that are mostly-edible, and Dani accepts each one with true Midwestern courtesy. Jamie leans back, watches the art of neighborly behavior being painted before her eyes: older women who compliment Dani on her earrings, young men bullied into helping move heavy boxes into storage by their mothers. Dani, in the middle of it all, wearing a soft pastel sweater and a smile that has finally remembered its own strength. 

She wasn’t sure how this would go, if Jamie’s honest about it. She’s been telling Dani not to worry for weeks, telling Dani they don’t need to know much about a business to run this one. I grow, you arrange, we make out like bandits with all the nice Americans who value pretty things. It’ll be perfect, Poppins. She’s been saying it, and she thinks she even believes her own words most of the time, but there have been dreams. Anxiety running its red thread through her sleep, telling her she has no skill in this arena, no education to speak of, no idea how to survive in American business while hiding her relationship with her “business partner”. 

The day the shop finally opens, Jamie has been saying “it’s going to be great” for so long, she almost surprises herself by rushing into the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. Dani, expression warm and just the tiniest bit teasing, leans against the doorframe.

“You all right?”

“Perfect,” Jamie gasps, staggering to the sink and thrusting a toothbrush into her mouth. “Jus’ great.”

“Too late to turn back now,” Dani points out. “What would we do with all the business cards?”

Jamie groans, spitting mint foam and rinsing out her mouth. “You could show just the slightest bit less glee, Poppins. I’ve just run us into a brick wall of imminent failure.”

Dani laughs, coming up behind her to hug her tight around the middle. “We should probably at least unlock the doors for the first time before you decide it’s time to shutter them again.”

She’s good today, Jamie senses--not the fake-good where she tries her best to pretend she isn’t listening for some deep-down movement Jamie can’t register, but truly happy. Her body is relaxed, her hands certain as she tips Jamie’s cheek and kisses her calm. 

“How,” Jamie gasps when they break, “are you not out of your bloody mind right now?”

Dani shrugs. “It’s like the first day of school. Spend all summer planning and worrying, but now it’s happening. Just gotta jump in.”

There are already people waiting when they arrive, to Jamie’s mingled horror and delight. Most of them are their fellow shopkeepers, waiting with the brilliant smiles of people who have already lived this particular nightmare themselves, and just want to pay forward the relief of customers actually turning up. They’re kind, these people--they don’t know Jamie in the least, don’t have the first idea what shadows lurk behind Dani’s eyes, but they take their hands, squeeze, and congratulate them all the same. Jamie thinks they even mean it, most of them. Americans are complicated, boisterous, scandalous people--but they can have such heart. 

One woman, old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother, presses a bouquet of peonies against Dani’s chest. “For luck,” she says croakily, patting Dani’s cheek like she’s known her since Dani was three feet tall. “Dry ‘em, hang ‘em somewhere in the back. Remember we’re all rooting for you.”

“Rooting,” a man who owns a nearby pizzeria hoots. “Good one, Carol!”

Jamie almost rolls her eyes, but Dani is beaming. When the others make flapping get in front of the sign gestures, they can’t help but obey, standing with a perfectly-maintained half-person between their shoulders. She wants so badly to reach over, to take Dani’s hand, to kiss her with all the terror and relief she’d never known she could feel at once. Instead, she smiles as professionally as she knows how for the camera someone produces. It’s enough.

Later, tapping a finger against the print the photographer drops on their counter, Jamie says, “Look like I want to pass out.”

Dani glances toward the window, takes note of the empty street, presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’d have caught you.”

***

A photo: Jamie, sitting just behind Dani on a plush couch, arm wrapped around her waist, cheek pressed to flyaway blonde hair. Dani, grinning her widest, cheesiest grin, leaning back like she knows there is no world in which Jamie would ever let her fall.

There are parties, occasionally--usually thrown by other under-the-radar couples they get along with well enough for drinks, not so much that they truly build relationships. They like the quiet life, the two-person road trips, the easy silence after a long day. But, sometimes, life is grand and big and loud, and on those nights, they venture out into the world.

There are a pair of men maybe five years their senior who have been together for “a decade”, if you ask Mike, “a century”, if it’s Paul telling the tale. They’re good people, and their home is a safe space Jamie doesn’t anticipate finding. 

Friends are hard, she thinks. Always were, but they’re so much harder once you’ve lost a couple.

Still: when Mike and Paul are set to celebrate a round ten years together (”An eternity,” Paul clarifies, leaning against the Leafling counter to invite them over), they go. Dani wants to, and it’s good seeing Dani want things like this. It’s been almost a year together, almost a year of exploring the map and one another, and Dani’s been getting softer around the edges, less prone to jumping at shadows. The Dani Clayton of a year ago wouldn’t want to attend parties, lest the beast inside leap while her guard is lowered; the Dani Clayton of tonight is holding up a dark green dress, brow furrowed. 

“Too much?”

Jamie hums a moment to buy herself time. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’d like to actually leave the house tonight.” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows, buttoning a black shirt and searching for a good pair of suspenders. Dani laughs. 

“I think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours.”

“You,” Jamie points out, sidling up behind her and kissing her neck, “have always had entirely too much faith in me, Poppins.”

Dani is, however, a woman of her word when it comes to accepting social invitations, and soon they’re sitting on an exceptionally soft couch in an exceptionally loud living room. Jamie glances around, reading the environment, registering the two women holding hands by the coffee table, the men dancing near the kitchen, the way even the male-female pairs seem not to see anything odd. Mike and Paul have been doing this a long time. This is as safe a space as their own home. 

She likes the way Dani relaxes, a little more with every drink tucked into her hand, a little more with a lit cigarette pulled from Jamie’s, a little more still when Mike nudges her and mutters, “Your girl looks good tonight, Clayton.”

She likes, most of all, the way Dani doesn’t flinch away when a Polaroid comes out. These are good people, brave people, smart people. If there are photos taken tonight, they will be pressed straight into the hands of their subjects, gifted away before the chemicals have even processed. 

Dani presses back against her, seated on her lap, laughing at some joke Jamie hasn’t really been paying attention to. She’s too busy watching Dani’s profile, the way her head tips back when she’s really laughing, too hard to care what she looks like. Too busy reveling in how it feels to hold Dani in a setting so much more public than usual, her fingers stroking the soft material of Dani’s dress, her body burning and the most comfortable it’s ever been. 

Later, with the Polaroid on the nightstand, the green dress on the floor, and a sheet tucked up against the fall chill, Dani says, “We should do that more.”

Jamie chuckles against her shoulder, kissing a patch of freckles. “This?”

“Yes.” Dani wriggles a little, giggling. “But also that.” She’s gesturing to the photo, propped between a lamp and copy of some old Shirley Jackson novel. “It was nice, wasn’t it? Not...”

“Hiding,” Jamie supplies. Dani makes a humming noise soft in her throat. 

“I like not hiding you.”

***

A photo: Dani, eyes dark with a smolder only Jamie ever sees, a cigarette between her lips, hair loose around her shoulders. 

Nights spent home with Dani, nights where there are no groceries to pick up, no accounting to be done, no errands waiting to be noticed, are Jamie’s absolute favorite thing in the world. There’s just something about this sense of home they’ve been building together, this sense of locked door and secured window and no one else invited to partake that gets Jamie the way nothing else does. 

Especially Dani. Dani at home is less reserved, less careful. With every month that passes quietly, no sign of anything but her own mind, Dani gets a little less tight. A little less prone to gazing off into the middle distance. A little less likely to disappear from an otherwise-normal conversation, emerging several minutes later like she’s pulling herself out of a dream.

And, some nights, she’s not just here--she’s utterly present, every atom of her tuned to Jamie like they have no need of space between them, no need of separation. These nights, the nights where Dani strides into the room on a mission, are Jamie’s favorite of all. 

“Why,” Dani says, leaning back in a kitchen chair with legs spread and head tilted to exhale smoke toward the ceiling, “are you looking at me like that?”

“Me?” Jamie teases. “You’re the one gazing at me like I’m some terribly interesting new buffet.”

She’s half-joking, but there’s something about the way Dani looks at her on this very particular sort of night, with every line of her body tuned toward Jamie’s, that makes her feel a stupid kind of brave. A reckless kind of excitement unwinds outward, until her fingertips itch to grab at Dani’s hair, her knees weak with the desire to pull Dani close. 

She’s doing it now, smoking that cigarette with all the languid energy of a woman perfectly at home, watching Jamie with a faint smirk playing around her lips. No one else sees that smirk, Jamie understands, and it makes her a little faint every time she thinks it. To have something of Dani, some integral comfortable part of Dani that belongs solely to their apartment, their life together, is still a good fortune Jamie can’t entirely parse out. 

Her hand moves toward the camera, small and plastic and containing some of the best memories of Dani she desperately needs to keep. Dani lets her snap off a shot, shakes her head when Jamie lowers the camera.

“That’s going to be one of yours.”

She says it every time Jamie tries to capture the white-hot energy of this kind of evening. Dani doesn’t like to see herself through this particular lens, gets fidgety and embarrassed at the sight of her own face etched with such a confident hunger. Jamie asked the first time if Dani wanted her to stop taking the photos altogether, and Dani had shaken her head.

“I don’t mind. But they’re yours, okay?”

She sets the camera aside, moving to take the cigarette out of Dani’s hand, taking a long drag and dropping it in an ashtray. The rest doesn’t need anything in the way--no lens, no embarrassment, nothing but the way Dani’s mouth opens beneath hers, hands already roaming. The rest is not Jamie’s, but theirs, a joint ownership of soft moans and soft skin and soft assurances that this is still, always, home. 

Later, with Dani asleep, one hand thrown loosely over Jamie’s hip, Jamie will look at the photos that are hers and hers alone. Dani, mouth wet and swollen from a night spent confined to their bedroom around their anniversary. Dani, grinning and half-asleep, glancing over her shoulder to coax Jamie into putting the camera down, joining her among the blankets. Dani, smoke-haze around her face, wine glass in her hand, looking just past the camera at Jamie’s own desire. 

Dani’s choice to share a life with her, Dani’s decision to share every inch of herself with Jamie, is more than Jamie feels anyone deserves. 

***

A photo: Dani in front of the Eiffel Tower, sunglasses on, arms spread wide.

A photo: Dani kneeling at the Grand Canyon, gesturing bewilderment at the sheer scope of the place.

A photo: Dani standing before the alleged largest ball of twine in the world, looking rather like she regrets letting Jamie pick the destination this time.

They travel until Dani can’t stomach it anymore, can’t take the uncertainty of unknown roads and unmapped hotel beds--but, first, years of travel. Years of postcards and rental cars, of Jamie turning maps upside down and Dani being shockingly savvy in small-town situations. 

These photos, more than any other, feel like they have to be taken for someone else’s idea of posterity, and Jamie feels a little strange, at first. Dani’s already seen much of Europe by the time they meet, and has no photos whatsoever to show for it. Jamie, who started turning up in photos for the first time as an adult, says, “It’ll be good to show ‘em off,” while never quite bringing herself to the edge of an unspoken follow-up question: to whom, exactly? It isn’t as though she and Dani are having children, isn’t as though there will be grandkids tottering around down the line to tune out their stories. Who, exactly, are these mementos for?

Dani is far too kind, far too pragmatic, to put the question to her. Dani only poses, grins, lets Jamie take all the pictures she wants, and then--camera tucked safely away once more--grabs Jamie’s hands and leads her into living it: the food, the outdoor markets, the snowstorms, the sun-kissed hikes. As the years go by, Jamie takes more and more photos, never quite able to explain to herself why it’s so critical. Never quite able to look away when Dani finally covers the lens with one hand and brings her close, kissing her like it’s the first time. 

They stop looking at these photos together, after a while. Stop trying so hard to go back, as the days grow shorter and the exhaustion begins to steal the warmth from Dani’s smile. At first, it’s about moving forward--always one foot in front of the other. At first, every photo taken is set aside as a gift to another life. And then, finally, it’s about the moment they’re in, nothing more. Jamie sets the camera on a shelf. Refuses to look at Dani through any barrier but her own two eyes. Dani doesn’t like the snap-click of the camera anymore, anyway--each time, she flinches, like Jamie is about to show her a glimpse of whatever horror she’s been seeing in the mirror. 

I only see you, Jamie promises, the ache in her chest so great, she’s sure it will swallow them both. But Dani can’t bring herself to look. Can’t bring herself, just in case Jamie is wrong. 

Later--so much later, with eyes stinging and arms empty--she flips through the album and remembers Spain, California, Minnesota, Greece. Later, she finds Dani sticking her tongue out, spinning like a deranged nun out of musical, sitting quietly in a cafe with a small cup of coffee warming her hands. Dani, stiff-shouldered and trying not to laugh as Jamie made faces the one time they ever ventured back to Iowa. Dani, hair blowing back into her face, arms looped around Jamie at a terrifying, exhilarating first Pride parade. 

And, in the back, the photos of Dani as only Jamie knew her. The sly grin a second before pinning Jamie to the couch. The sweet surprise from Jamie coming home early with dinner. Shot after shot of no make-up, or smudged eyeliner, or ruined lipstick, of Dani in pajamas on Christmas, or Dani in bed after a shower, or Dani laughing herself silly at nothing Jamie can remember now. 

They’re all here, and they’re all Dani--all of Dani Jamie’s got left now--and still, they’re wrong. They sit, plastic and unyielding, beneath flimsy protective sheets, and they don’t laugh like Dani, don’t breathe out against her skin like Dani, don’t smell like Dani’s shampoo or swear like Dani tripping over a shoe in the dark or look at her with that solid, palpable love like Dani did and should still and never will again. 

Jamie sits, album in her lap, staring down at Dani with paint smudged on her cheek and their then-new bedroom behind her, and suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. Had she known? Somewhere in the back of her mind that day in a gas station, picking up a little yellow disposable camera, had she known that one day, this would be all she had left of Dani? Surely not. Surely, she hadn’t believed it would go this way, all the way back then. Surely, it was one day at a time, and we’ll have time, and any day with you, Poppins. 

Had she known? No. No, of course she hadn’t.

And yet, the idea of not having these in front of her--the idea of Dani’s face slowly, surely, washing away over time as Jamie fails to find her in a world so uncompromisingly cruel...

She touches a shot of Dani with her left hand covering her mouth, her ring gleaming gold against her smile, the day the state had legalized civil unions. Dani as gold as sunshine, in one of the last truly clean moments, before old ghost stories dug rotting fingers into their life. Her vision grays, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up. 

She hadn’t known. But she’s glad. She’s glad she has, at least, this much to hang on to.

[fernweh-writes]

how about the slasher react to an s/o that who sometimes speaks during their sleep? (Have a nice day :3)

I talk in my sleep according to my family and best friend. My best friend said she had a whole conversation with me while she was in another part of her house and when she walked back into her room I was responding but I was also knocked out. Makes no sense, I still think she’s lying…

-Fern🌿

S/O That Talks in Their Sleep

Michael Myers

Michael has a fucked sleep schedule. The only time he sleeps is when he has to because he physically cannot keep going. Although, occasionally he will take a quick nap purely out of boredom. Other than that, you’re going to have to coax him into bed with you.

Because of this, it’s likely for him to hear you talking in your sleep all of the time. He does enjoy watching you sleep. You look so peaceful and at ease and the steady rise and fall of your chest basically has him in a trance.

Michael isn’t going to mention it to you or anything. It doesn’t phase him, in fact he finds it pretty amusing. It does make him wonder what you’re dreaming about whenever you say something really crazy though. He wishes he knew what was going on inside of your head at all times, even when you’re sleeping.

Bo Sinclair

Bo will find anything and everything he can to use against you. He knows the perfect mix of degrading and praise that will have you hating him and never wanting to leave his side. So of course, this is another thing he will be using against you.

If you try and deny it he’ll find a way to prove it to you. He doesn’t care if he has to stay up all night and record you. One way or another, he’s going to prove it to you or just make a scene and get you to drop it or surrender and just let him be right. He’s always right darlin’.

Of course he is also going to use this knowledge to embarrass you. He’s the king of mansplain, manipulate, manwhore and he knows it. Bo will tell you stuff you most certainly didn’t say just so he can get a reaction out of you.

Vincent Sinclair

When the two of you first get together, he is still very hesitant about sharing a bed with you. He can’t sleep with the wax mask on his face and even though he does care about you, he’s not sure that he’s ready to show you his face quite yet.

Because of this he won’t come to bed with you until he’s dog tired. Vincent will be asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, not waking up until the morning. So it’s unlikely for your sleep talking to be known by him for a very long time.

Once he gets comfortable with you and is with you while you fall asleep is when he will finally take notice. Even then, it’s very unlikely for him to mention it to you, he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed. Besides, he thinks that it’s endearing listening to you say random things in your sleep. Some of the things you say are cute and others are just down right funny.

Brahms Heelshire

If you talk in your sleep he’s going to know about it within the first week you’re staying at the Heelshire mansion. He likes to watch you while you sleep and if it’s something that you do frequently he was bound to notice.

Brahms has very limited knowledge on people considering he has lived a very sheltered life and hasn’t socialized whatsoever really. It makes him wonder why you do it, so once he reveals himself to you be prepared for a bunch of questions.

Just don’t let Brahms know that you’re embarrassed about talking in your sleep. He’s a little shit and he would most definitely tease you about it just to get a reaction from you. Also uses it against you in order to get his way, so being made fun of becomes especially common during his tantrums.

Thomas Hewitt

This man sleeps like a rock. The world could be ending and he would sleep through it. Can you really blame him though? Thomas works his ass off to take care of his family, so he stays tired and always sleeps hard.

Because of this it’s very unlikely for him to even notice that you talk in your sleep. Especially if it’s more mumbling than anything because it won’t phase him one bit. If he does happen to hear you though, at first he thinks you’re saying something to him. Only when that something makes absolutely no sense does he realize you’re still sleeping.

Don’t worry about worrying over what you say in your sleep though, Thomas will never bring it up anyways. After all, it’s not like it bothers him considering it took him so long to even notice. On the rare occasion he does hear you he just thinks it’s cute and wonders what you’re dreaming about.

Billy Loomis

This one all depends on where you stand in your relationship with him. If you’re still dealing with that boy next door front he puts up then of course he’s never going to mention it to you. After all, a gentleman like him would never mock his s/o.

But if you’ve reached a point where Billy really is himself around you then congratulations he’s going to tease the hell out of you for it. Obviously he’s going to over exaggerate everything you say in order to make it better blackmail.

Definitely uses the “that’s not what you were saying last night” line in order to mock you. If you claim he’s lying then that’s just to bad considering he was the one awake and listening and you were the one asleep.

Stu Macher

Stu thinks that the things you say in your sleep are absolutely hilarious. Because he enjoys hearing the random things you say so much he never mentions it to you because then you would somehow try and stop, He’s not sure if it’s possible to just stop, but he’s not taking any chances.

Would be the type to write down his favorite things that you’ve said in your sleep. The list ranges from random things you’ve said he thought were funny to the sweet things you’ve mumbled about him without even knowing it.

One day he might just show you the list of phrases he has collected over time. Happily points out his favorite ones, he should make a hall of fame for your sleep talking phrases. Of course, he has to tease you once he finally tells you.

Jesse Cromeans

Jesse has cameras covering every inch of property that he owns. His warehouses have cameras but of course so does his home where you reside. After all he has to make sure the things that are most important to him are looked after.

So, anything you say or do will be caught on camera. Although you have no privacy, you only have no privacy with Jesse, He is the only one with access to the cameras within his home, no one else.

Unfortunately for you this means every embarrassing thing you have said or done has been caught on tape for Jesse to enjoy. While he is temped to tease the hell out of you for it, he ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t want you to stop doing embarrassing things just because you know that he is always watching.

Asa Emory

Asa watches you sleep pretty often so it doesn’t take long for him to pick up on your sleep talking. Even if it is something you don’t do often, he’s a very light sleeper. So if you start talking, it is going to wake him and you’re going to get caught saying who knows what.

He’s not one to really mention those sorts of things, But, if it is something that you do often then it means he own’t be able to sleep good with you next to him. He may care about you but he already doesn’t get enough rest as it is.

On the rare occasion he is home and the two of you fall asleep together, he waits for you to fall asleep and then goes to sleep on the couch to actually sleep through the night. Obviously he can’t get away with it for very long without getting caught. So his great idea is to guilt trip you and make it your problem.

[shyinadarkplace]

So You Like Big? part one

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader Warnings: There is definite size kink, future office sex?, Clark Kent (yes he is a warning), I can't think of any thing else. Authors Note: THIS IS MY VERY FIRST REQUEST EVER! This whole thing comes from this lovely anon ask -"Hi Sweetie ! Can I request something fluffy/smutty with Clark Kent? He notices the reader has a size kink so he plays with her?"

I decided to make this a two part thing. this chapter doesn't have all the really good stuff that is up coming, this is more a set up.

Please do not copy rewrite, translate or repost my works. No permission is given to use my work in any capacity even with credit. I do not own Clark Kent , Henry Cavill or any of his characters.

There is nothing sexier in the whole world than a big broad man, at least to me. My best friend Tiff knew this which is why at the moment we were in the break room comparing pictures of men we let break us in half. It's not like we were neglecting any work, since we were in between projects at the moment. Tiff looks at me conspiratorially and whispers, “Ya know who else could do horrible things to me?” I hum. “Clark god damn Kent.” She smirks as I almost choke on my coffee. “Girl, if you don’t shut the hell up. We have to work with that man.”

Truth is I have been head over heels for that big farm fed boy since the day he started here at the Daily Planet. I mean every woman in this place wants a piece of Clark, and I can’t blame them. His eyes are the color of cerulean paired with that dark slightly curly hair, not to mention every inch of his body had been worked and carved to exquisiteness by all his years of farm work. Yeah Clark Kent was literally the country boy, who decided to take on the big city. Tiff giggles, “Bitch, calm your hormones. Come on let's get to the desk before …” She didn’t get to finish because in swept the prima dona of reporters Lois. “You two really shouldn’t be talking about men in the break room. Especially Kent. Don’t you need to be working on layout anyway, seeing as there were misalignments, again the other day?”

I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue. It didn’t bother me what she said about Clark since another well known fact among the women here is that Lois wanted Clark. Did it matter that he had turned her down a half dozen times? Apparently not. While I said nothing Tiff didn’t mind putting Lois in her place.

“Listen Lois , just because you are a reporter, journalist or whatever doesn’t actually put you any higher on the food chain. Oh and for the record, our layout was on point, they always are. There was a misalignment in the actual printing process. So whenever you are ready, come on down from that high horse. Come on (y/n/n).”

Once we are back at our work space I almost burst out laughing. “Damn Tiff, you really told her.” She made a face before saying “Well, someone has to. And no I don’t mean you (y/n/n). First you are to kind to do it, and secondly I have seen you put someone in their place and well you would get black listed if you really gave it to Lois.”

Then we both laughed. “It wasn’t even that bad!” She just cocks an eyebrow at me in a “if it helps you sleep at night” look.

The rest of the day flies by as people submit their work. Before I even realize it is 5pm. Tiff sighs and stretches saying “Alright, I am out. Don’t stay too long and let me know when you get home.” I nod continuing to focus on my screen. After the shuffle of everyone leaving stops I stand to stretch as well and kick off my heels. I put in my headphones, hit play on my audio book and snatch up my coffee cup. As I make my coffee the book gets to the good part.

(what reader is listening to)

Dante could smell her arousal. His wolf howled his approval. “You really shouldn’t be out here all alone Jess.” The female wolf shifter spun to face him and growled. “And you should really stop trying to tell me what the fuck to do. I am leaving and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Before she could open the door to her car Dante had her spun and pinned against the side of his larger SUV, growling. Dante towered above Jess. Her treacherous body heated further, but she wasn’t about to let this male dictate to her. “Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me.” Dante wanted to laugh but there was a promise of violence in her eyes. “ I told you, you aren’t going anywhere.” Dante leaned close skimming his teeth along her neck, breathing in her scent. His other hand snuck up moving to gently collar her. Jess reacted on instinct, pissed that he dared try and make a claim on her. It didn’t matter that the male doing it was a head taller than her and nearly twice as broad. Didn’t matter that part of her was dying for him to show her just what that big body of his could do. How fucking dare he. So she bit into his hand as it came up to collar her.

God there was nothing like a man towering over her. Nothing like a true alpha male, wanting to stake his claim, when they were big and being around them made you feel safe and protected rather than scared. I let out a sigh. I wanted that so bad. I sigh as I take a sip and find my mind wandering to the big in every way country boy with the bluest eyes and black hair. Why couldn't I have him? No. No, just hope right off that thought. I need to get back to work.

Clark sat at his desk smirking. Finally. Fucking. Finally, everything was coming together. He could hear every word of that book she was listening to. Could hear the pick up in her heart rate , the change in her breathing. And he could smell her. God damn it did she smell good. Like wild flowers, earthy like hay, and sweet like honey. It made his cock stir every single time he caught it in the office. Though that also meant that since they often worked together there were days where his cock was rock hard for hours on end. He got up smirking. She wanted big? He’d give it to her. He would play it carefully not wanting to screw up five years of friendship, and then he would show her what it felt like to really be taken care of.

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

Title: “Midnight Confessions”

Author’s Note: One of the final three (3) requests I have from 2018, this particular scenario is something I’ve wanted to write for a while. I absolutely love this plot device, no matter how cliché or overused it may be. I hope you guys enjoy this and have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. To the anonymous requester, I hope you see this. I really wanted to bring justice to your idea, even if it’s more than two years late. 

Request: “Could u possibly do something where the reader and McCree share a bed on a mission (or maybe they just get hurt and r resting) and McCree lays w/ them n stuff and while they’re “sleeping” he confesses his love and that he’s scared to love but it turns out they heard the whole thing ? if not that’s fine, thank u! I love ur writing!” - Anon

Rating/Pairing: 

Jesse McCree/Reader 

Fluff & Brief Angst; GA (General Audiences)

2nd Person, Gender Neutral

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.2k | Added a “read more” due to the length.

When operations go wrong, there’s little that can be done to reverse the initial mistake. Not only are lives put on the line, but so too are relationships and the foundations of friendship. Being under constant fire, unable to reach backup or safety, really wears down the body and mind. Though some may find a thrill in it, eventually that too wears away. 

In your case, you had been pinned down for nearly an hour. Though your position had been defensible, it was on track to becoming more of a hazard than anything else. It wasn’t clear who was to blame for the mishap, everything having happened so fast, but one moment the team you were apart of was working together and the next you were alone with Jesse McCree. 

Sighing, you pressed your back to a stone wall. It was one of the only walls that sheltered you from the flying bullets and sniper fire. Jesse was crouched across from you, trying his best to peer around the corner for the next viable bit of cover. 

You picked up your earpiece, taking it from the place it had fallen when you had run for cover. Quickly bringing up two of your fingers, you activated the line. “Commander? Commander are you there?”

Jesse spared you a glance, worry in his eyes as he took in your features, before turning back to make sure no one had advanced on your position. There was a faint crackle of static before your attempt at communication was answered.

“I’m here, agent.” Reyes’ voice was rough and you could hear the noise of gunfire through his link. “What’s your status?” 

You knew that he could hear the gunfire on your end as you answered. “We’re pinned down, I don’t think McCree and I will be able to get to you.”

Reyes cursed under his breath before answering. “Everyone’s on board. We’re ready to get the hell out of here. This aircraft has taken too much damage for us to wait any longer. We’ll give you as much cover as possible, but you two are gonna have to get yourselves out of there. Figure out how to get somewhere safe, you know the drill, agent.”

McCree, whose communications system was linked to yours, nodded. You could see he was too focused to give a verbal answer, so you kept speaking. “Copy that. We’re ready when you are.”

__________

“We’ll keep in touch, agent.” The words ran through your head over and over again, even opened the door in front of you. 

After Reyes had provided enough aerial cover for you and McCree to get to safety, you had both gone to the nearest safe house. Each assignment Blackwatch, or Overwatch, gave its agents was well thought out and discussed. Drop sites that were busy had cheap motels or hostels listed in their information packets, or predetermined safe houses when the locations were more secluded. In this case, it was a secluded safe house. The information sheet you had pulled up earlier made mention of a stocked kitchen, running water, and first aid supplies. What it had failed to tell you was how small the place would be.

It was practically a one room flat in the form of a cabin. Half walls separated the less private rooms, with only the bedroom and bathroom having proper privacy. The rooms were cold, the thermostat untouched for a long time, but it would do.

Flicking on a light switch, you watched as the florescent bulbs lit up the kitchenet and living space nearest the door. A deep sigh escaped you as you finally allowed your body to relax, dropping the small bag on your shoulder near the door. “Well, Cowboy, this is home for the next 48 hours.”

The brunette man behind you had the decency not to laugh as he made his way past you. “Seems so, sugar. You can take the bathroom first, I’ll take a look ‘n’ find somethin’ for-”

“Us to change into. I know. You talked about showering and getting your wounds dressed the entire way here, Jesse.” You said, smiling despite the pain of your split lip, as you went to find bath supplies.

“Wasn’t aware I talked so much.” He laughed, shaking his head and making his way to the bedroom.

“You always talk, Jesse.” You were already halfway into the bathroom, a towel in hand, when you heard him laugh in reply.

You took your time removing your armor and torn, military grade suit. It wasn’t often that you came out of a skirmish so battered, so the shock didn’t fully register until you’d locked yourself in the room alone. Sighing, you focused on getting out of you clothes and tried to ignore the sounds of bullets echoing in your head. It was more painful a process than you’d expected, as you’d gotten grazed by more bullets and scraped by more gravel than you cared to admit.

Just as you let out a hiss, there came a knock on the bathroom door. You heard Jesse’s spurs jangle before he spoke. “You alright, darlin’? I left some clothes out on a chair here.”

You called out, “Just fine, Jesse! Thank you, I’ll grab them on my way out.”

“Sure thing.” He smiled as he spoke, and though you couldn’t see it, you could hear it in voice.

It made you smile as well, knowing you had your best friend looking out for you. The longer you thought about Jesse and his kindness, his thoughtful but flirty nature, the more your cheeks reddened and stomach fluttered. You’d harbored feelings for the modern gunslinger for a long time, nearly as long as you’d been friends. It was something you kept to yourself, mainly because of Blackwatch’s strict dating guidelines for its agents. Stepping into the shower, you knew the next 48 hours would be tough to get through. 

_________

Stepping out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, you found yourself staring directly at the bare chest of your cowboy partner. “Jesse.”

“Darlin’.” The smile on his face grew, becoming a large smirk, as he noticed the blush across your face. “Clothes are over there. Mind gettin’ out o’ the way? Man’s got to shower just as much as the next person.”

You shook your head, blinking quickly as you looked back at his face. “You’re the one in my way, Jesse.”

Chuckling, he stepped aside and let you grab the clothes before heading into the bathroom. The image of his bare chest replayed in your mind as you dressed, despite you having seen him that way before. Jesse was built well, sturdy and muscular. His body had definition and flexed with strength when he moved. Slim, muscled, and padded in just the right places, you’d say. Attractive. That’s what it was. Jesse had an attractive body and personality. 

Perhaps that’s why you’d spent so long harboring feelings for him, when you could have tried getting over it. Jesse was a good man, though he had his flaws, and he was always kind to you. He had been your first friend in Blackwatch, your first confidant. You’d been thick as thieves for the longest time, attached at the hip. You’d known him for so long, that it hadn’t been a surprise to you that you found his body similarly attractive. It had been painful to watch him go through relationships and flings, wishing one day he would chose you and stay.

Sighing, you tried to get rid of those intrusive thoughts by taking care of your injuries. Knowing Jesse McCree so well also meant knowing his trouble with commitment and genuine emotion. He got scared, you could easily tell, and pushed people away when they got close. He may have been worth it, worth the bumps in the road, but no one else knew him enough to know that. Not like you did. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. Your thoughts were interrupted by McCree coming out of the shower, fully dressed, and fiddling with his peacekeeper. He seemed to have taken care of his flesh wounds while in the bathroom, a couple bandages visible beneath the black shirt he wore. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, no hat on his head, and accentuated the small cut running down his temple.

He barely looked up as he stopped in the doorway. “Darlin’-”, He started.

You shook your head, standing to take his pistol from his grip. “Let me look at that cut, Jesse.”

Looking up at you, he gave you a gentle smile. “No need, darlin’, it’s not very deep. Ought to heal like a charm.”

“No, sir, can’t have that getting infected now. Besides,” You glanced at the only, small bed in the room and then at the couch just beyond the doorway to the room. “We can talk about sleeping arrangements as I do.”

Wordlessly, he sat at the edge of the bed and let you get to work. “You know, that couch is old.”

“Mhm,” You focused on your task, making sure to pay attention to his words nonetheless. “It’ll likely be a back killer.”

“Absolutely. Reckon I should take it.” He moved his head a little, wincing at the pressure you put against the cut.

“I have the better back, Jess.”

“Sure, but we wanna keep it that way. ‘Sides, I wouldn’t be much o’ a gentleman if I let you take it, would I?” His comment made you laugh and he smiled at you, glad to see you so happy.

“Stuck in the West again? Acts of chivalry are rare nowadays, Jess.” You said and pulled your hands away from his face, finished with your work.

“We could share.” His suggestion threw you off, especially when you saw he wasn’t joking. 

“You sure?” Your voice was a little nervous as you spoke, something he picked up on.

“As the day I was born. Only if you’re comfortable, darlin’.” 

“Yeah. Okay,” You smiled, helping him to his feet.

________

Jesse was wide awake, his thoughts running a mile an hour. On his back, he could feel where your back met his side, he could feel each even breath you took. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you were awake. You lay facing away from him, eyelids heavy, breath even, and mind somewhere else. He assumed you’d fallen asleep.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his hands from behind his head and turned around. He tried his best not to wake you, keeping his chest from being flush against your back. He tried his best to keep his hands from touching you, but couldn’t help it when he reached up to brush some hair out of your face. It caught your attention, but you didn’t move, too sleepy to care. You just listened as he sighed once more and shifted just a little closer. 

“Darlin’,” He whispered. “I’ve gotten ‘round to thinkin’...”

He paused, almost as if trying to convince himself to stop talking. “I’ve been thinkin’, and I can’t live without you. I’m scared. I’ve loved you for so long now but I’m jus’ so afraid. I could’ve lost you today. I don’t know what went wrong, I don’t want that fear of not knowing in my heart, but I ain’t strong enough to tell you-”

He took a deep, steadying breath before reaching out to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and, carefully so as to not ‘wake’ you, pulled you completely into him. “Look at me. Confessin’ in the dark while you sleep, not hearin’ a word. It’s pathetic. Truth is, no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to say the words to your face. I want to look at you and say it, I want to keep you close, but I’m a coward. I’ve never been the type of man to commit to no one like that. I don’t think I’m the kind of man to love like that. Never have been. But damn, darlin’, if I can’t help wantin’ that with you. Want to keep you safe, by my side, always, but... but I ain’t the type of man worthy of you like that...”

He trailed off and you, now wide awake, could feel small drops of water hit the back of your neck. Jesse McCree, the strong, charming cowboy was crying. It broke your heart, so much so that all the words you’d thought to say to him left your mind. He was so worth it, so much more than he gave himself credit for, and you loved him. Just as he was.

Turning around, you watched his face mold from sorrow into shock. He tried speaking, but you didn’t give him the chance, “Darlin’-”

Your lips met his before he could utter any more words. It was a soft, emotional kiss that tasted of salt. His tears fell harder, and you only pulled away to hug him closer. Wrapping your arms around him and locking your legs together, you didn’t have to say much to get him to hear you.

“You are my everything, Jesse. I’ve always loved you.”

[british-bombs]

( TO BEAT THE DEVIL ) An introduction.

FORMAT: teleplay / novel

GENRE: horror, coming of age

LOGLINE: An interning demon drives a pair of twins cursed with obedience and honesty to kill their cult leader.

THEMES: Trauma, sexual abuse, domestic violence, victim blaming (particularly self blame), peer pressure, redemption, internalized homophobia, and religion.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Sexual abuse, violence, domestic and otherwise, manipulation, and death

EXTENDED SUMMARY, CHARACTERS, EXCERPT AND NOTES:

Carmine can taste it. They're hiding something. Humans have such a silly smell about them, turns an overwhelming shade of sweet when they've made a demonic deal. All four of these children have. He just can't figure out what, and more importantly: why.

It keeps him on the surface longer than he should be. Long enough that Lilith sees it fit to send him a fucking trainee? And if that wasn't insult enough, the trainees one of the eternal teenage know-it-alls.

He's already got four annoying toddlers to trail, and now there's one tugging his hand in the new generation's approach to soul-catching like Carmine isn't one of the best employees they've had since the turn of the century.

And somehow, to make it all worse, the trainee is good at it. And if Carmine wants to keep his spot at the top of the food chain, he's going to have to get the soul of that dumb bitch who's running the joint.

But, of course, the kid gets him murdered??? And then has the nerve to figure out how what those toddlers managed to stick their syrupy, grubby little hands in. What gives?

But two can play at that game. If he can't get the dead guy's, then he can have the next best thing.

Jesse has lived just under seventeen years, but he's ready to check out. Or he was. But of course, some selfish bastard had to come along and say you can't ever act on those thoughts again! Don't think like that!

And then the hole kept getting deeper.

Six feet deep, to be exact. He's got blood on his hands and no matter how fucking good it felt to cut off the air supply to the God who stole his innocence, it's probably not going to feel very good to watch his mom suffer through a highly publicized trial with headlines like CHILD MURDERS HIGH PROFILE BENEFACTOR!!!

Oh. Well. Billy did say if he really got in that deep, he could always strike up a deal. His soul, everything wrapped up in a nice little bow, sweet as Easter Sunday. But until then? Yeah, he's content to live in a stupid fucking Sherlock Holmes novel.

CHARACTERS:

JESSE NIX: A soon-to-be seventeen-year-old saddled with the curse of obedience. Unlike miss-lucky-Ella-Enchanted, he wasn't told to give away his mommy's locket. No-siree. He was told to give away his virginity. In his opinion, the only appropriate payback is a life. Maybe, one day, if he really snaps, he'll dig up Pastor Dallin's corpse and chop his dick off. Really stick it to the man. If he doesn't go to prison first, anyway. (spotify playlist)

NANCY NIX: Also a soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old, though saddled with the curse of honesty. It's really not so bad. That is, until she stumbles across the sight of her dearest little brother covered in blood for no reason he can push through his metal braces. She refuses to believe he did it on purpose. If only she could convince the cops without sounding like a nutjob. (spotify playlist)

BEVERLY PINES: A seventeen-year-old cursed to feel the pain of those around her. It makes for some fun family dinners with a sadistic mom and a missing dad. Distance nulls pain, but she can't ever seem to make it past state lines before her mom gets wise and breaks one of her ribs. Oh, well. She's got a bone to pick with psychos like her mom. Apparently, Pastor Dallin was one of them. She doesn't think she could stomach the pain of killing someone, so next best thing, right? (spotify playlist)

CLARICE ANDERMANN: Also a seventeen-year-old cursed to be constantly in motion. It's honestly not that bad. She's Yale bound! Perks of having endless energy for everything to cheerleading to debate contests, though she can't imagine her heart's going to keep up like this. It's already hanging on by a thread. That thread is named Beverly Pines and like hell she's letting it go to prison for nothing. (spotify playlist)

BILLY: An annoying fuck trapped in a seventeen-year-old's body. No curses. The opposite, in fact - blessed with a silver tongue and a keen sense of deduction. It takes him all of two hours to put together (almost) everything about Jesse Nix. He just didn't think he could push the repressed little fuck to murder that quick. (All the more power to him, though. Prison always makes people desperate and paranoid, AKA: an easy mark.) (spotify playlist)

MAVIS EVANGELISTA: Former housewife turned grieving widow turned revered prophet. If she got a little help from someone downstairs, then who's to know? They love her all the same. Now, she really, really wants to see how far she can push them all. (spotify playlist)

CARMINE: Just a helpful guy, passing through. Really doesn't need anything, just a little pledge, is all! And then? Then, you can have everything you want, fame, money, power, love. The sky is your limit. The water's fine! (Ignore the piranhas, they'll wait till you're dead to eat your face, just a little bit.) (spotify playlist)

NOTES:

- all of these characters have equal importance within the story.

- personal tag system for story stuff is '#tbtd' and character tags are just first name (ex: '#jesse')

- this is kind of really fucked up. the only reason i wrote it was cause i was thinking damn ella enchanted really is NOT fucked up enough. like i don't think the author of ella enchanted went dark enough. a locket? that's it? a bitch move. i'm taking it to straight murder and sexual abuse

- jesse transgender, no character straight except evil people

- i'm not entirely sure how tag lists work but i think i get the gist of them?? idk if you want rb or ask or something </3

EXCERPT:

There were moments, where she was reminded just how different this voice was, how violent.

She had found Lynette, making off with her makeup that she’d spent her own allowance on. Mavis doted on her and, from what she’d seen of other families, everyone else looked upon their little siblings with contempt, despising the burden they dragged along with their existence.

But Mavis adored Lyn. When she'd been born, her mother had come home with a tiny thing bundled in pink fleece. Mavis had taken to Lyn on sight, thinking Lynette’s headband adorned with a baby blue bow was the universe’s way of telling her happy birthday! as reparations for the ones her mother had missed while she was enduring her week long stay at the hospital.

But that mindset was a disease, one that had finally caught up with her. Had Lynette not become her burden? She was nineteen, busting her back day and night so Lynette wouldn’t have to, that she might avoid the life that Mavis had lived in those blissful six years where it was her and her alone.

Had her mother not tampered down her birthday celebrations since Lynette’s was so very close and they couldn’t afford double anyway? Had Lynette not deprived her of the teenage experiences she heard her classmates speak of, going out and tasting alcohol for the first time while Mavis followed a ten year old Lynette house to house so she could complain of a stomach ache after she’d devoured all the candy on the walk back home?

And now this! Stealing her few precious items, the few things she bothered to save up for, few things she bothered to keep hidden. For what? It wasn’t as though she was ever going to have the courage to ask a peer of her’s out. She was a thief.

One Mavis had made the mistake of taking care of. She should’ve embraced those stirrings of resentment, should’ve left Lynette to her own devices since Lynette didn’t appreciate anything, or even half of what Mavis afforded her. She should’ve left her out in the cold that Christmas. How could anyone have known? It wasn’t as though corpses could talk--

She had let Lyn take off with the whole case, as if to remind herself when she woke up the next morning what she had considered, how vile the thought was.

Lyn had never done anything unforgivable to Mavis. Mavis didn’t suppose she ever could. It was no fault of Lyn’s she didn’t understand what it was like to live with their father. How could she? It was a topic off limits to Lyn by both Mavis and their mother. After all, a child born blind doesn’t know until it’s pointed out to them.

And yet, she found guilt hard to summon. She did, but the speed at which it came, the strength, made her uneasy. What had happened to the girl she was? Lyn had been her world. What had changed?

Then, dully, that other voice, entirely of its own volition, said You did.

[nemowrites]

Hi, Nemo dear❤ firstly, how are you? I sincerely hope you're doing fine and that all your projects are proceeding as you hope!

Before I go into the ask, I just want to say that I enjoyed your demo so much, it's full of your adorable humor and it's a perfect mix of mystery and cuteness. And also, aesthetically it's an eye candy, I swear you're some sort of genious for figuring out how to make all of that work!

But I'm here for the prompts, because I see angst or hurt/comfort and I have to have it.

Can I request "Is that fear I see?" and/or "We can share my coat." for Jesse, please?

HAIII, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH THIS MAKES ME HAPPY!!! A Brilliant author like you likes my novel?!??? HOW DO I REACT TO THAT??? 💕💕💕

Honestly I've been sleeping all day long, I'm pretty sick at the moment but my mood is way better than yesterday because my throat finally stopped hurting, it's just a runny nose and fatigue at this point and my right arm tremor/sudden shakiness hasn't been bothering me except for once today which is good, other than that I'm doing pretty good, hope you're also doing well and having a nice day/night! :3

From this prompt list!

1- "Is that fear I see?" for Jesse:

One thing you never thought you'd do is argue with Jesse, like a real argument, unlike the ones you have when they steal all the muffins you got for the team or when they beat you and Allie in video games by shamelessly using cheat codes.

But this, this is different.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Jesse's voice gets higher by the minute, another thing you thought you'd never happen, but their eyes tell a different story, they're not angry as much as they're disappointed.

The question is, are they disappointed in you or themselves?

"I do," You shrug, not breaking eye contact for a second, your tone is as cold as the room you're standing in, despite it being mid-summer.

"I just...I can't believe you" All fight has escaped their tone, but that's not what infuriates you, what does is the fact that they're putting all the blame on you "I can't believe you'd want to throw yourself into a mission where you're guaranteed to..."

Their voice breaks, in turn, breaking your heart, but you steel your voice and go above your normal tone as you take a quick step towards them "To what? die? Say it Jesse, say it!"

And despite the last words dripping with venom, you used their nickname, still, you can't bring yourself to hate them.

Your heart breaks a second time when they take a step back, wincing at the intensity of your voice, but this time there's no one else to blame for the pain you're feeling but you.

And worst of all you hurt the one person that didn't and would never leave you.

And yet, all the frustration bottled up since you got involved in all this mess, all the times you wish you didn't poke your nose where it doesn't belong, all that blinds you.

"Is that fear I see? Huh, and here I thought you were so brave and ready to jump into the mission instead of me, you know-" You stop abruptly as you notice a single tear falling down their cheek, followed by another one, they quickly realize you must have seen them starting to cry as they purse their lips in an effort to stop the overwhelming emotions and grab their stuff and run out of the room.

You stand there, mouth slightly opened, you want to run after them, to apologize but can't bring yourself to follow them out, you did this.

You hurt them.

2- "We can share my coat." for Jesse:

You should have trusted the weather forecast when it was announced that it would be very cold tonight, but in your defense, it's currently mid-fucking-summer, how the fuck is that even possible?!

Meanwhile, Jesse trusted said weather forecast and brought a coat with them, you suspect they stole it from Freddie who wears them all the time even when it's boiling.

"This is fun," Jesse breaks the comfortable silence that fell upon you a minute earlier, you nod and give them as much of a sincere grin as you could seeing as you're kinda sorta freezing right now "It is, I'm glad you convinced me to unwind today"

"I'm amazing, I know" They match your grin and pat you on the arm, then suddenly their hand snaps back to their side, you give them a weird look "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah it's just... your arm is covered in goosebumps, are you cold?" They give you a look laced with concern, you grin sheepishly "Kinda..."

They smack their forehead "Why didn't you say so earlier? You must be freezing right now", they start taking off their coat from one side "Here, we can share my coat"

Before even wearing the offered coat, heat crawls up to your neck, you smile gratefully, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and put your arm inside the coat, the other arm hesitantly and loosely wrapping around Jesse's shoulder "Is this okay?"

"More than okay" These words comfort you as much as the way they sink further into you, hugging your side, and the most bizarre thing is that the butterflies don't fade away after a while

They multiply.

[ironmandeficiency]

feelin’ like a woman

pairing: hardcase / reader

word count: 4322

summary:  you’re desperate to go somewhere where proper conduct isn’t expected, and you perk up at hearing about a clone-friendly bar called 79’s. fox gets protective over you and his worry only increases when the object of your affections is a member of the five-oh-first.

warnings: implied smut, the reader and hardcase are thirsty af, that along with the drinking makes me think rated m is most accurate for this fic

“come on, padme! i need someone to come with me!”

“you seem to forget that i’m painted on the sides of several of their ships, any clone would pick me out from a crowd just as quickly as my husband could.”

“then let them enjoy a night with the highly esteemed senator fighting for their rights as people!”

“that’s why you’re going, is it not?”

you groan in defeat, flopping onto padme’s bed theatrically. that was the exact opposite of why you were going. you were indeed an avid fighter for the rights of the clones, but you didn’t have the notoriety that padme did. no, you were planning on going to 79’s to let loose and drink people under the table without shame and have enough fun to satiate future boredom at the upcoming senator’s gala.

“you can have a disguise, or claim to be a body double for the former queen of naboo!”

padme rolled her eyes at the idea. “any member of the coruscant guard will see through that immediately. and speaking of, aren’t you going to need one of those disguises you’re so keen on making me wear?”

“nah, i’m not as popular as you, my friend. i don’t think i’ll be picked out as quick as you would be, or even at all.”

“but i’ve heard that anakin and his men have returned from their last campaign. surely some of their men would recognize you after your rescue from separatist lines a few months ago.”

“lucky for me that the men in blue aren’t snitches.”

--------

you were mostly right about not being widely known.

fox, when he saw you in a dress much tighter and shorter than anything he’s ever seen you wear, nearly had a stroke. at first he tried to blame the glass of unknown substance shoved into his hand by someone in the 327th for making him hallucinate stewjon’s senator wearing a scandalous dress while drinking at a clone bar. then he heard your voice when you asked for stewjoni scotch, and he knew for certain it was you.

his steps were fast and wide as he approached you, a hand gripping your arm almost vice-like to keep you from pulling away. “senator, what do you think you’re doing here?!” he spoke through clenched teeth akin to the way parents chastised their children in public.

“what i’m doing, foxy boy,” you smirk as the bartender sets the bottle and two glasses before you, “is getting shitfaced.” he filled both glasses, extending one towards the commander of the coruscant guard. he didn’t pick up the glass (which you expected) so you picked up yours, clinking the transparisteel against his chestplate with a wry smile.

fox does not approve of this, not at all. but he loosens his grip slightly because he’s aware of how that could possibly be twisted against him if the wrong person saw him. “do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here, senator? you could have been murdered or kidnapped on the trip here, and a drunken senator would be quite easy to take advantage of after half a bottle of this scotch.”

he was worried about you, which was really sweet of the overworked commander (although quite unfounded because you were surrounded by soldiers of the republic, you’d be fine). you had enough faith in their morals to know if anyone got too handsy, clone or otherwise, one of them would defend your honor.

“my friend, you seem to forget that i was born and raised around this stuff,” you raised the drink to your lips and downed it in record time as you continued. “it might as well be in my blood at this point, foxy. but could you do me a favor and refrain from exposing my position? it’ll ruin my chances of any fun, and that would mean i’d have to leave the relative safety of dozens of soldiers.”

fox was resigned to his fate. you did have a fair point, he can monitor (protect) you much better when in a clone-friendly bar than he could in a place where he wasn’t even allowed inside because of his clone status. guess you were staying here.

“well not every brother in here has the same respect for women, sena-“ he cuts himself off and is unsure of how to address you without the title. fox was rightly worried about addressing you by your name. names were near-sacred to him and his brothers, and they held the same power to those in high positions of power like you were. would you be comfortable trusting him with something so precious as a name?

you pick up on his trepidation and immediately give him permission to call you by your first name (again), your other hand grabbing the untouched scotch and downing it with practiced speed. it isn’t like you haven’t been friends with fox since the first time he was assigned to float with your protection team, and you trusted him with your life. he wouldn’t take it lightly and most definitely would be professional whenever decorum was called for.

“alright y/n,” fox’s mouth wrapped around your name with calculated hesitance, almost doubting whether you had even given him permission in the first place. “from now until tomorrow, or as long as we’re in this bar, i’ll only address you as y/n, a random civvie that came to drink with a few soldiers.” the second time he spoke your name it was with a bit more confidence and a twinge of humor.

you brought a hand to the bar top with two rapid hits, drawing the attention of the bartender. the man took the hint and refilled the glasses in front of you both. before he could walk away, you grabbed one of them and gently slammed it back onto the bar, the bartender once again refilling it with the amber liquid.

it was almost comical, the way fox’s eyebrows shot up at the speed with which you took the third helping of scotch. “oh i’m here to do a lot more than drink, my friend,” you grin widely and rest an arm on his shoulder. “i’m here to party!”

the words had been out of your mouth for mere seconds when a clone with blue paint on his armor and inked onto his face approached your right side that was unoccupied by your favorite member of the coruscant guard.

the geometric blue on his armor clearly distinguished him as five-oh-first material, but you had never met this particular soldier before. he had a wild side to him, that much was obvious with the loud confidence he used when he invited you to hang out with him and his group toward the back.

there were a couple familiar faces occupying the booth he gestured to and you grinned at the sight of a cog-headed man downing a shot of something purple. it had been too long since you had seen jesse and co. and you figured that since you were here to party, who better to do it with than some of the rowdiest clones in the gar?

this was another thing fox didn’t like, and the list seemed to only be growing. many of the men under rex’s command had a well-known reputation for being something far less than tame. the idea of his friend (apparently you considered him a friend and it would only be fair of him to do the same since he was now given permission to do so) getting “shitfaced” with the loud men worried him.

they were vode, there was no reason for him to fear for your safety.

your manicured hand came to pat his cheek with affection, bidding him a farewell and directions to find you if he needed you. the other trooper grinned as he offered his hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you to where his closest brothers sat.

fox grabbed the remaining glass of scotch and downed it the same way you had. it was gonna be a long night.

--------

when hardcase returned to the booth with you as his plus one, every head turned (echo and rex choked on their drinks as well) once they identified you.

“jesse! long time no see!”

“y/n! wouldn’t have pegged you for a 79’s kind’a girl, good to see ya!”

“senator y/n! you look stunning as always!”

“why thank you fives, but you know that flattery won’t get your hands anywhere closer to where you wanna put ‘em.”

laughter bounded from everyone around hardcase as you slid into the booth next to jesse, your interlaced hand pulling him next to you.

he was stunned. he had just invited a senator to his table with that much confidence and she actually followed him? a senator?! that knew his brothers?! how did she recognize fives and jesse (and presumably everyone else) in the first place?! part of him hoped the honorific was an inside joke he wasn’t privy to but common sense paired with the way echo and rex choked at the sight of you told him that you actually held that title.

it didn’t take a genius to know where exactly fives wanted his hands to go and the fact you didn’t lose your shit at the implications had hardcase reeling. what kind of senator were you? apparently a fun one, if the finesse you held when downing the scotch earlier held any weight to the idea.

“you know me too well, gorgeous.”

“knowing you at all is too much for anyone, fives.”

your laugh at echo’s snarky comment was loud and without inhibition and hardcase loved it. you were a breath of fresh air, something warm and bright amidst the murky, choking cloud that was the war and he wanted you to stay next to him as long as you were willing.

kix returned to the booth loaded down with drinks and was pleasantly surprised to see you laughing it up with hardcase and the others at something said that (what he correctly guessed) was at fives’s expense. you greeted the medic with a grin, quickly extending a hand towards him that he quickly filled with a brown bottle.

before you could open it and take a sip, jesse gently nudged your side with an elbow. an eyebrow quirked up as he gestured to his bottle and then to yours, and you quickly understood what he wanted to do.

“you’re on, jess.”

everyone else at the table (minus hardcase and tup, the only other man at the table you didn’t know prior to tonight) knew what was going to happen now. with an amused sigh, kix resigned himself to having to deal with an insanely drunk jesse later tonight as the latter opened his bottle and set it in front of him, waiting for the countdown. being the designated vodsitter was a necessary nuisance because they clearly couldn’t be trusted to get themselves back to the barracks safely.

fives began the countdown at three, a hand smacking the table with each number before shouting “go!” you and jesse quickly snatched your drinks from the tabletop and began chugging at a speed hardcase hadn’t seen a civvie (well, non-clone) drink with.

hardcase couldn’t help his eyes from wandering down your body as a couple drops escaped the corner of your lips, slowly making a path down your exposed neck and chest and disappearing into your dress. there had never a been a time he wished he was a tiny droplet of beer, but tonight had him thinking that he’d be content with such an existence if it guaranteed him gliding down your body the way your beer did.

damn his mind was weird sometimes.

he was pulled from his thoughts at a victory yell emitting from your throat, an empty bottle banging against the table. jesse’s head was in his hands, a playful groan making itself known at his now apparent loss.

you beat jesse?! he was the champion!

guess not anymore.

you playfully half-bowed at the cheers of the rest of the table’s occupants before wiping the corner of your mouth with a thumb. what he didn’t expect was the way you licked the tiny bit of beer away from the tip, or the way he felt something stir in his abdomen at the sight of your tongue flicking out for a brief second. did you know you had this affect on him?

conversation came back for a few minutes, everyone joking around and having a great time. you were going on about something to do with the ryloth senator’s bothersome lack of ability to shut up when you cut yourself off mid-sentence, seeming to notice something the others didn’t.

“y/n, what-“

you hold a finger up to silence him and after another couple seconds, your eyes light up at the familiar tune beginning to play from the music box in the corner by the dance floor.

“hardcase, move your ass! i love this song!” he quickly does as you ask, secretly relishing the way it feels when you lightly push him out. what would your hands feel like on him without his pesky armor in the way?

you’re barely out of the booth when a female waitress approaches you with another brown bottle the same as the one you finished off a while earlier.

“the three gentlemen from the three-twenty-seventh enjoyed your little show earlier, wanted to see if you’d do it again.” you could hear the eye roll in her voice, seeming a bit bothered for you at the gall the men she pointed to had.

you shot her a sympathetic smile before sending a flirty wink towards the men who bought you the drink, taking it from her hands with a flourish. she seemed to visibly relax when you were nonchalant about the whole thing, turning to go back to work.

if they wanted a show, they’d get one.

it took a tiny hop on your part to get yourself sitting on the table, being careful to avoid spilling the drinks of your blue-painted friends. you crossed one leg over the other as you sent a small salute with the bottle toward the table before bringing it to your lips. the liquid sent a warm burning sensation to your throat, and you tilted your head back with an almost seductive elegance.

another couple drops escaped your lips and followed a path similar to the prior bottle’s contents, and hardcase was once again enraptured at the sight. when the bottle was empty, you hopped off the table and set the bottle down. now that you had a few drinks in you and a great song was playing through the bar, it was time to dance.

hungry eyes burned into your body as you made your way to the dance floor. you knew there were a couple five-oh-first boys eyeing you as well as the three men who gifted you the last drink. disguising your curiosity as a flirty twirl to the song, you spun and took a head count of your admirers.

at least eight soldiers’ eyes were glued to you, the men having varying motives as to why you had their attention.

fox was casually nursing another glass of scotch at the bar but that nonchalance didn’t fool you. if you gave even the tiniest indication that you were less than comfortable with something, the guardsman would immediately come to your aid. it was the calculated calm that one would see in predators in the wild and you were thankful fox was on your side.

you didn’t pay much mind to the three-twenty-seventh members that sent the second bottle your way outside of knowing that they were watching you. the battalion was familiar to you only by name and paint color, and you weren’t looking to get chummy with men from a group whose commanding officer you weren’t well acquainted with.

tup, who you had discovered was the youngest of the blue men group you were drinking with tonight, was in absolute awe. he’d seen plenty of women who were able to fake a confidence like yours, but yours wasn’t even the slightest bit artificial. your name has popped up among the men with stories of how you were shooting down clankers right along with the five-oh-first during your rescue from seppie space. the fact you were as wild as the stories led him to believe was startling and quite validating.

most of your blue-clad companions were watching your departure the same way they’d watch a commando kick ass: with excitement and barely-contained anticipation. it was entertainment to them. they knew that you knew about the lingering eyes on you. you were just playing the part of the naive but sexy party girl that wanted nothing more than to drink and dance.

what you pretended to want was mostly true, but you had a more concrete goal in mind now than you did when you first arrived: your new goal was to jump the bones of a certain tatted heavy gunner.

a blind man could see the heart eyes hardcase has been throwing at you since he approached you at the bar. the trooper was everything but subtle in his enthusiasm to please you. the lust in his eyes as they roamed your body reminded you of the drought you’d been stuck in for far too long, senator work not leaving much time for the finer pleasures life has to offer the bold.

there was a tall and vibrant pitcher of water in blue paint that you hoped would be more than willing to flood your desert later tonight. maybe if you played your cards right and made your intentions known things would go your way.

only one way to find out.

among the cards was a little extra sway to your hips as you walked and a half-spin, urging him to follow you to the dance floor with a wink.

his brothers were encouraging him to get up and go, but he was suddenly nervous about you for the first time tonight. did you really want to dance with him? he didn’t think so. you were absolutely phenomenal and he wasn’t even an arc trooper, what would you want with him?

doubts were shoved away from his head when you went back to the booth and pulled him from his seat, a wide smile gracing your features. fives, tup, echo, and jesse drunkenly hollered in celebration of his good fortune as you laced a hand in one of his and he swore to the maker that he could never forget the way your hand felt in his.

once you found a prime spot on the floor, you turned to face hardcase and pulled him closer to you. your hands made their way to the nape of his neck and your hips began to sway. the trooper took the hint and his hands moved down your body and came to rest comfortably on your waist.

did all clones have such large hands? if so, how did you not notice that pleasant physical feature earlier? more importantly, would they feel as large as they did now when spreading you open for him before absolutely railing you the way you hoped he would?

the song continued and with it went what little structure your dancing had. hardcase was right on board with it, the two of you dancing like fools just enjoying each other’s company. you laughed as he playfully twirled you out of the blue and wow, his smile is dazzling. he was laughing right along with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make him more attractive than he already was.

then he pulled you closer, chest flush with his. callused hands returned to your body and traveled lower and lower, one resting on your ass while the other pressed into the small of your back. his eyes became softer as he lowered his head, whispering a question of consent, whether it was okay for his hands to have gone so far down your figure.

it was endearing you even more to the mirthful soldier and if you weren’t careful- oh who were you kidding? you were too far gone to contemplate what it meant for you to have something so intimate with a trooper and frankly, you didn’t care now the same way you wouldn’t in the morning.

he was flesh and blood and dazzling smiles and playful jokes, and you wanted to continue being the reason he smiled so wide. you had half a mind to send a holopic of your lips on hardcase’s to the longneck senator burtoni just to piss her off because look at this man, he was spectacular and you dared anyone to imply that he was anything less.

you were snapped back to the man in front of you when his hand kneaded your ass in the most heavenly way possible, not even bothering to conceal the soft moan that worked its way out of your throat. there was no way hardcase didn’t hear it, not with how he tensed for just a brief moment before doing it again with both hands just to see what you’d do.

another moan added emphasis to your growing arousal, slightly louder than the last one but still quiet enough that the dancing strangers on almost every side couldn’t hear.

hardcase grinned like a loth-cat at the sound. he couldn’t believe his night was going so wonderfully and for a brief, blissful moment he forgot that he’d have to leave 79’s before the end of the night and in three days’ time, return to the front lines.

the harsh slap of reality obliterated what little jitters and anxiety he had about you on the spot. he tightened his hold on you before asking for permission to kiss you the way he’d wanted to since you sat down next to him.

the reply you granted him was simple enough and got the point across with zero chance for it to be twisted the way some fellow senators would twist the words of themselves and others. honesty and openness were rare in politics but they were abundant when hardcase was this close to you, and they only grew in size as your lips collided with his.

you could taste the beer on his tongue and something else you didn’t recognize that had you hungry for more. it was sweet and strong and distinctly hardcase and oh fierfek, if his mouth was this good right now, imagine how skilled it’d be when-

rough kneading elicited another moan that wasn’t as private as the others, your mind storing away the humorous sight of a couple veering their path away from you and hardcase’s affection in thinly veiled disgust.

“is there somewhere we can go for a bit more privacy?” the aroused timbre of his voice was something you weren’t prepared for and if he hadn’t been holding you so tight against him, you were confident in the assumption you’d have melted to the spot.

but the implications didn’t lose their intended effect; in fact, quite the opposite. you pulled him in for another kiss and this time, decided to push yourself against the codpiece of his armour, see how he’d respond.

there was something almost primal in the noise he made and you were desperate to hear it again. you repeated the motion and received the same response, deciding to answer the pressing question he posed as he relished in the pressure you were giving him. “i can get us into a hotel in the middle levels where no one would know me, see what happens from there.”

the confidence in his next words struck you like lightning. “i think we both know what’s gonna happen from there, sweetheart.” his lips began setting a path along your jaw and down your neck, pausing only to lightly bite the soft skin resting above your collarbone.

“what are we waiting for, then?”

hardcase’s tongue lapped at the spot his teeth just released for a moment before lifting his eyes to yours. “a cab to get us the kriff outta here.”

he (almost unwillingly) detached himself from your body and intertwined his fingers with yours, smiling as you guide each other towards the exit and right by your former table. as predicted by hardcase, his vode that were still conscious drunkenly shouted their congratulations and reminders about protection.

you laughed right along with them for a moment, bidding them a good night and safe trip home.

before getting to the bar doors you paused. fox would want to know that you were safe, and you’d feel immensely guilty for letting your friend needlessly worry. scanning the bar, he wasn’t at his previous spot and you cursed for a moment before finding another trooper with red paint, telling them to pass along a message.

they nodded and turned to do so, at which point you pulled hardcase closer to you and emerged from the doors hand in hand.

a speeder cab nearly passed you up, jerking to a stop at the loud whistle of hardcase. another thing his mouth could do. interesting.

the cabbie asked where you wanted to go, your answer sounding almost out of breath since hardcase thought that mid-conversation was the perfect time to slide his hands up the exposed skin of your thigh. never had you been grateful for the solid divider that isolated cabbie from passenger before this moment.

at the end of the night, you both had predictions turn into truths; hardcase was correct in guessing what exactly would transpire between the two of you, and his hands did feel as large as you hoped they would as he split you open with calculated ministrations before nailing you to the hotel bed.

[gospelofme]

Code 30

Warnings: violence, blood, drama

Kix x female reader

Part 10

You continued to wake up a little bit more as the hour passed. Kix not leaving your side, his gentle whispers kept you grounded. You held onto them to avoid being pulled back into the realm of unconsciousness. You knew the sooner you woke up, the sooner you could go home.

A nurse walked in to check on you and hurried over to your side.

“How long has she been waking up?” She asked, checking the readings on the monitors.

“A little over an hour.” Kix responded, squeezing your hand. The nurse left and returned with a physician a few moments later.

“If she can wake up entirely on her own, with any help from medication, that would be preferred.” The physician said. You frowned when you felt Kix move away from you as he got up. You clutched his hand.

“It’s fine, I’m not leaving.” He assured softly.

“Keep checking on her every 10 minutes. Once she’s fully awake, we can start attempting to move her off the ventilator.” The physician ordered, the nurse nodded.

Things progressed slowly, but after three hours you were much more alert than you had been. About two hours after that, you were pretty much awake. You were frustrated with not being able to talk. You had so much you wanted to say. Sometimes Kix filled you in on what the kids were doing. Other times he napped and you watched him catch up on much needed rest.

“The kids want to come see you later this afternoon.” Kix informed. You wanted them here right now, but Kix had told you how late they’d been up. It had certainly been waaaaay passed their bedtime. You blinked to let him know you agreed, that was really all you could do. Turn your head side to side and blink. Nodding with a tube in your mouth that was attached to a machine behind you was too difficult.

As the morning and early afternoon wore on, you were anxious to get this tube out of your mouth. You hoped it would happen before the kids got here. Thankfully, something went your way for once. Once your physician finished listening to your lungs, he clapped his hands together once.

“Perfect. I don’t hear any rasping or any signs of fluid build up. I think we’re good to proceed with exubation. I’m sure you’re more than ready.” You raised your eyebrows and blinked in agreement. They started slowly weaning you off oxygen supply, checking your O2 stats regularly to ensure you were holding steady. Eventually you were down to just minimal support and everything was reading normal.

“Okay, the machine is off. Let me just remove the tape, then we’ll start getting this out. Sound good?” The physician asked, you nodded. The Zabrak was very careful as he peeled the tape from your cheeks, you held your head steady for him. Kix had backed off just a little, but couldn’t release his hand from your iron grip. Not that he would want to, but he felt like he had to make room for the doctor.

“Okay, when I say, I want you to take a deep breath in, exhale. Then take another deep breath, hold it, and I will pull the tube out. After I want you to cough and we’ll help suction out any secretions.” You grimaced at that, as well as you could. The Zabrak smiled.

“I know that sounds unpleasant, but that will help clear your lungs.” You blinked that you understood.

The process of exubation officially began.

“Okay, deep breath in.”

You took a deep breath.

“Exhale.”

You exhaled.

“Another deep breath for me.”

You complied.

“Hold it.”

You did. You felt the tube slide up your esophagus and out through your mouth. You coughed reflexively, the nurse encouraging you to continue coughing into a bucket she handed you. You had to release your husband’s hand for the first time in hours to hold the bucket close. After, the nurse auctioned out your mouth and an oxygen tube was looped under your nose.

“This is just to provide you with a little boost of oxygen. Just until we’re sure you hold stable.”

Kix wanted so badly to kiss you, but he knew how grossed out you had been over the exubation process. The nurse provided you with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouth wash and helped you feel fresh and clean. Once the nurse and doctor left, and you two were alone again, Kix’s lips were on yours in a flash.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You rasped, your throat was irritated from the tube and the coughing. The doctor had said it would take time to get better.

Kix continued to just kiss your cheeks, forehead, and lips. His hands gently holding your face.

“I shouldn’t have gone.” You added. Your husband stopped and looked at you.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have beaten yourself up if you hadn’t gone, and that guy had destroyed evidence and jumped off planet?” He said flatly. You didn’t respond. He was right. You would’ve been so angry with yourself.

“That’s what I thought.” Kix said in response to your silence. He kissed your jaw and cheek. “The only person I blame got hot plasma between the eyes.” He added. You quickly pulled him into a hug, one hand around his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. He carefully slid his arms around you and gently held you. You could tell he was holding himself up, he didn’t want to put his full weight on you. Understandable.

You laughed softly when you felt his lips on your neck, but quickly pushed him away when the door began to open.

“Mommy!”

Kaia rushed into the room, followed by Jesse and your parents. Your youngest wasted no time jumping into the end of your bed and carefully crawling to your side. You put your arms around her and pressed your lips to the top of her head. You closed your eyes tightly and forced yourself not to think about how close they’d been to losing you. Jesse was at your side moments later and you pulled your son into your arms. He wasn’t too keen on much “mushy” stuff, as he called it. But he threw that out the window for now.

The visiting progressed softly, your parents asking questions and you answering them as best as you could. You censored much of what had happened for their sake. You weren’t ready to talk about all that had happened yet. Eventually Commander Fox and his wife (your best friend and fellow Detective) arrived.

“Ugh, now you’re more badass than me!” Your friend said with faux disappointment as she hugged you. You laughed and shrugged. You were about to reply when Hound entered your room, carrying what looked like an arm load of towels.

“Sergeant...” Fox groaned.

“Ssshhhh, she wanted to say hi!” Hound replied quietly, closing the door behind him. The towels in his arms wiggled and Grizzer’s leg popped out from under it.

“You smuggled her in?!” You gasped, Fox shaking his head.

“You’d better not get caught.” He said.

“Pfft, Griz could be a therapy mastiff!” Hound put his four-legged partner on the floor, the mastiff hastily making her way to your bedside. You rubbed her head and scratched under her chin. She had bravely protected you after all. She didn’t know you at all, but had defended you all the same.

You were released from the hospital at the end of the week. The staff had wanted to be sure there were no complications from surgery and no signs of pneumonia from the ventilator. The first night you got into your own bed after this whole ordeal, you felt your muscles relax. You had taken a nice shower. The kids had been put to sleep. Your husband was next to you, his head on your chest and his arm draped across you. It wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep.

Tag List

@simping-for-fives

@jgvfhl

@carlycrays

@nelba

@showmetheclones

@leias-left-hair-bun

@xalvy-zen

@halzore

@porgnugget

[lunarkittens]

If you had to list your top ten scenes of spn, what would they be?

ok disclaimer!! i haven’t watched every episode and i’ve not seen a lot of the stuff in later seasons😬😬 keeping that in mind...in no particular order bc i can’t bear it!!

1. sam dean and john reunion in shadow! the hugs...the crying....last time we were together we had one hell of a fight...

2. sam and dean’s talk in the car in bloody mary where dean says sam has to stop blaming himself for jess’ death

3. sam’s purity speech about sir galahad in the great escapist! literally makes me want to shave my head!

4. COLD OAK DEATH SCENE COLD OAK DEATH SCENE

5. sam ruby i know what you did last summer convo and sex scene. life changing! i’m not putting it separately but this is tied with it’s okay sammy you can have it samruby scene. sorry everyone.

6. dean being attacked by alastair through sam killing him!! outstanding television...CINEMA!

7. the entirety of the pilot

8. a very supernatural christmas ending. spn boiled down to essentials...tied with samulet clip bc hello? HELLO?

9. sorry but i really really love the soulless sam biting his arm devil’s trap scene

10. the ending of heart with madison

11. literally breaking the rules but the “no sir...not before everything” like from sam as he views dean in the rearview mirror! just moments before the Car Crash

[friendofspidermannedleeds]

2020 overview: writing edition 

Tagged by the loveliest and kindest of friends, @momentofmemory​. 

I’m not tagging anyone because I’ve not been around and am sure most have done this by now, but if you’re reading this and you’ve not been tagged and would like to participate please say I tagged you! <3 

1. List of works published this year 

The Kid Really is Smitten (Peter & Happy, Peter/MJ. 233) Nightmares and New Beginnings (May & Peter. 733)  Normal Teenager Stuff (May & Peter. 5+1, 1.8k)  Breaking a Promise (May & Peter, May & Tony. 3.3k) Carry Me (Morgan & Happy. 1.2k)

Fictober 2020 Series  * Works around 1k+ include:  Somebody to Talk To (May & Karen. 1.8k) Fireproof (Happy & Peter. 904) Flight Conversation (MJ & Peter. 967) Incalculable Worth (Ben & Peter. 2.8k) Regrets (May & Peter. 1.2k) A Nice Peaceful Afternoon (Mr. Harrington and the AcaDec kids. 3k) 

Knowing (Peter/MJ, May & MJ. 2.5k)  Forever Ours (May & Peter, May/Ben. 3.8k)  2. Work you are most proud of (and why)

I think it would have to be Incalculable Worth from my Fictober series. I’m forever disappointed in the Ben Parker erasure of the MCU and had been wanting to give him the respect he deserves. Most of this fic came to me much more quickly than my typical writing inspo (that Fictober deadline magic!), and even though I still have things I might change about the final product, I’ve never been so pleased with a fic’s result and reception. Several lovely people stumbled across this fic on Ao3 and left kind comments about how moved they were, which makes me think that I did what I set out to do! 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)

This would be Nightmares and New Beginnings. I just think it’s weird. I was so new to fic when I wrote it and was feeling experimental one night. I normally write quite slowly and edit a lot, but the idea for this one came to me after midnight and I published the fic before 2am. I hated it when I woke up and nearly deleted it. Two months later, as I was beginning to post Fictober on Ao3, I almost deleted it once again. The words of one extremely kind commenter saved it from destruction, however, so it’s still there! 

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing 

This is going to be hard for me because I don’t actually enjoy my writing for its composition! I like the concepts and character interactions a lot but I’m not terribly proud of my actual writing ability yet. 😬 

My favorite thing I’ve written lately is the ending to Forever Ours, my new fic about May and Ben adopting Peter, but I don’t want to put it here because it might be a very minor spoiler. 

So here’s a little section of Trust, my last Fictober ficlet. I liked it because May’s inner turmoil over Peter’s Spider-Man life is one of my absolute favorite things to write about. 

What troubles her most is this: whatever is out there, whoever he’s fighting—they won’t know he is fifteen. That he’s a child. That he loves Legos, and Star Wars, and science puns, and Mathletes. But what can she say? 

He’s not asking for permission. He’ll do this no matter what she says, and they both know it. 

He is asking for her blessing.

5. Share or describe a favourite review you received

This review meant so much to me! This lovely commenter read multiple May and Ben Parker fics and it was so nice to find that I’m not the only one who wants more of the Parker family than what we get in the MCU. It made me feel like my niche writing wasn’t of interest to me and me alone after all. :) 

6. A time when writing was really, really hard

Halfway through Fictober, I lost one of the most important people in my life. It was devastating. Writing was nice about 90% of the time, and actually a nice distraction that helped me take a break from the grief. But sometimes it wasn’t, sometimes it felt impossible, and that was when I’d just skip writing or posting and wait until it would serve me again. (So I finished Fictober a little later than I wanted to, but I have 0 regrets about that.) 

7. A scene of characters you wrote that surprised you

I only wrote one thing that wasn’t an MCU Spidey fic, and that was Carry Me with Morgan and Happy. I wasn’t expecting to write it at all, and it’s not one of my favorite finished fics, but I really enjoyed the process. 

8. How did you grow as a writer this year

I grew by writing fic for the first time! My job for the majority of this year involved a lot of nonfiction copywriting, so I’m an experienced writer, but I had no idea what writing would be like outside my “professional life.” I’m glad I tried it! 

9. How do you hope to grow next year

I’m hoping to finish and publish a longer (for me) fic! I’m currently working on Penance, a fic about MCU Spidey’s origins and Uncle Ben’s influence. It should be at least 6-7k by the time I’m finished. I know that is actually short, but I haven’t even cracked 4k yet 😂 Longer fics stress me out because I don’t feel confident enough in my ability to tie together so many words, and I also can’t come up with plots to save my life. So this will be a stretch for me and I am looking forward to it! 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta of cheerleader or muse etc. etc.)

This is, without question, @momentofmemory​. For so many reasons. (Sorry in advance for how rambly this will get, my friend.) 

Mem’s writing (particularly this May fic that is perfection and no I will never stop rec’ing it til the day I die thank you) is to blame/thank for getting me into fic in the first place. I’d been here in the Spidey fandom on Tumblr but I didn’t trust fanfic because I’d seen my most beloved characters shoved to the side/killed off in too many stories. I began 2020 hating all fanfic tbh. But then I read Mem’s captivating masterpieces (like this, the greatest one-shot!) and opened my heart to fic that celebrates the worlds I love! 

Mem is the kindest human ever. She read ALL of my Fictober works and left the kindest comments that made my heart soar. Knowing that my favorite author had taken the time to read all of that motivated me to write more than anything else has this year! 

Sometimes, when I was trying to write fic but felt burned out or uninspired, I’d go and read Mem’s writing. Her prose is divine, her dialogue is realistic, her characters and their relationships are so well thought-out--her work inspires me! I’d read it and feel excited by the ways that we can use our words to create beautiful things, and though I’m not anywhere near her level, I do think that reading her work has made me a better writer. 

Bonus positive influence: @i-lovethatforme​! Jess, thank you for being the world’s best cheerleader, for being endlessly kind and supportive, and for being my first ever beta in November. I go back and read your wonderful comments whenever I’m doubting myself. You’re an absolute gem and ilysm ❤

11. Anything from real life show up in your writing this year?

Yep. Regrets is about grief, and I was grieving pretty heavily when I wrote it. Peter’s regrets didn’t necessarily mirror mine, but writing it was still a cathartic experience. 

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers

Write what you want to write! Since I don’t do IronDad or smut, I wasn’t sure if anyone in the MCU Spidey fandom would be interested in my work. I thought briefly about trying to write based on what I thought people would read, but I decided against it. I enjoy writing platonic friendships and family fic more than anything else, so that’s what I publish most. I write what I want to write, and it’s made me so happy! 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year?

I have a few things I’m excited about! I’ve got some Spideychelle ficlets that might be a series. They’ll focus on Peter and MJ after coming back from The Blip, featuring MJ trying to ignore her crush and Peter developing a crush. The other is Penance, the MCU Spidey origins/Ben Parker story. 

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year

I think I’d say Knowing, my fic about Peter/MJ that’s more about MJ & May bonding. I just love these two women with all my heart, and I’m proud of the way this one turned out because I think it honors both of them pretty solidly.  

15. End of Year word count

36,625 words! It’s not a lot in comparison to other writers but it’s a huge accomplishment for me! 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Smugglers and Killers (Favored Ones, Part 18.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “I'm just a poor, wayfaring stranger... Traveling through this world below.” - Johnny Cash

Part summary: As the whole incident slowly settled down, new problems started to arise. 

A/N:.So, we soon be on a family trip to Seattle, guys, how are we feeling about that?

Warnings: Angst, some more angst and a bit of fluff. 

Word count: 4.8 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @peakymarvels​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​ @flavorishy

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Early spring of 2038, twenty days from departure to Seattle:

When you'd woken up for the first time, Ellie and everyone else forgot about the hatred inside for a small while. You were drugged and high as a living fuck, talking complete nonsense. Sure, Ellie desired to talk to you about the strangers, but at the moment, she was just laughing happily at your expressions and monotone voice, just like Dina, Diego and Jesse did. Joel wasn't in town to see you awake, but everyone was sure you'll have plenty of time to talk things out later.

Surprisingly enough, Ellie was standing at his doorstep, accompanied by Dina when he got back from the hunt. It made him grin to know that his baby girl had healed enough to talk to him once again - only if he'd know how downhill will the conversation go. But just like the man he was, he invited both ladies in and made them a cup of coffee and tea.

"So, you two hit it off, huh?" - Joel rose his eyebrows teasingly, having Dina chuckle at what he'd said. But both the girls nodded. Ellie was nervous about the whole matter - it was stressing her out enough to sit with Dina as her partner in front of Joel, but the matter she came to talk about was making her even more nervous. - "I'm proud of you, kiddo. You know I am." - Joel smiled at his daughter of sorts heartwarmingly and Ellie felt as her girlfriend's palm held hers a bit tighter.

"We'll put all the politeness aside, for now, Joel. I came to talk about the patrol." - Ellie licked her lips, lifting her look to look at the old man. At this statement, Joel leaned his back into the chair, letting out a long sigh. Sure, he should've seen this coming. While he knew when to stay put and calm, Ellie saw the world from a different perspective. She saw and felt different about the situation, and it was fair to hear what she had to say. So, with that, Joel nodded to let Ellie know he's listening. - "I want to go after them. Dina and I, we are going as soon as Y/N tells us who they were." - And with that, Joel closed his eyes, shaking his head with clear disagreement.

"You think I'll let this slide, Joel? I know you're pissed too, you know I just want the revenge she and Tommy deserve and you want it as well." - Ellie spoke out frantically. - "And you'd do the same fucking thing as soon as something happened to me. You wouldn't stay put and waited for things to play out, come on." - The girl looked into the man's face. His expression was unreadable and stoic. He was just called out because he didn't pack his damn stuff and went after them immediately, as Ellie thought she should've done. This wasn't about fear or about staying put. This was about making sure you were doing good in the first place.

"Kiddo, I think you should calm down in the first place, 'kay?" - The man spoke out after a moment of digesting the information. - "I am not waitin' here, sittin' around to see how it plays out. I get what you're goin' through rite now, trust me, I've been there. But..." - Joel tried to speak with the girl confidently, but she just sprang up on her feet. Dina was just sitting there in silence, afraid of what's yet to come. She told Ellie Joel won't agree to this short-fire plan she came up with, and there is was.

"Calm down? Are you fucking serious? I thought that the fact you've been fucking her for the last few months might make you do something for avenging," - "Ellie, sit down. We can solve this without bein' rude." - Joel answered rather calmly, but it could be heard that he's about to lose his nerve soon as well.

"No, you don't get to tell me when to sit down and shut up, Miller. I'm doing this for her." - "And you think she'd want that? Kiddo, she's a good person, she wouldn't jump straight to violence." - Joel defended you while looking the girl in the eyes. He was playing around with his tongue and teeth, biting on his bottom lip and trying to stay concentrated on the conversation. - "And how can you know, hm?"

"Oh, good Lord, that's what bitin' your ass? I know that girl for quite some time now and her moral compass is oriented differently than mine or yours." - Well, this was getting heated up fast. Dina would swear she hadn't felt this uncomfortable for some time and let her say, she and Jesse had the most awkward conversation ever when they were breaking up. - "Oh, great. You're talking shit about morals, given the fact you've started fucking my best friend? You did it even when you knew what she means to me? She is like my sister, Joel, but you just had to come around and fuck the shit up as you always do." - Ellie threw her hands in the air, staring at the man in silence for a while just like he was staring back at her.

"I am sorry to break it down for you, kiddo, but I have a family to protect 'ere now. And somethin' to get a hold on. All your great plan is goin' to do is make you both killed, mark my words. But I ain't be stoppin' you since I'm just that old fucker who had practically took advantage of your best goddamn friend." - Joel chuckled ironically, leaving to open the door for them. At that moment, Ellie stopped and winked a few times, realizing what she'd just said. These things were just nasty to say out loud, even with the given context. Sure, you were her best friend, but you and Joel had every right to date... If you liked each other and felt something for the other one. Which you surely did.

Sure, Ellie had the right to be angry about the matter, but she in no way had the right to blame Joel or to tell either of you to cut the things off for good. It was a weird situation to be in, but when she looked down on Dina, Ellie knew that no-one had the right to judge someone else's romantic choices. And as long as you two were happy, there was nothing left to say. And the redhaired girl knew that... Yet with the things she already told the man, it was too late to tell him. Dina smoothed her palm and caught it to hers, standing up.

"Listen, I'm sorry," - "Leave my goddamn house." - Joel mumbled when Ellie wanted to apologize as he was leaning into the open door, one of his thumbs was slipped behind his belt. So, she wasn't talking to him for years and now, when she and Joel made up in a way, she pulled a complete 180° stunt. That was just fucking great. Although she knew that Joel isn't her and he'll calm down as the time will pass, she couldn't help but feel bad for the words. She just smiled sadly and nodded, walking out of the house with her head held down.

"I'm sorry, Joel." - Dina told the man quietly, offering him a quick comforting hug before running after Ellie. She bit Joel's ass for a long time after she and Dina left. Did the girl think he wasn't grieving and in pain? Did she think that he's living in this small fortress of comfort that didn't allow him to see the things around? You were a person he deeply cared for, so, of course, he was shaken when Bobby allowed him to see you for the first time after the incident. There were a few days when Joel was forbidden to see you because Maria didn't know what his reaction will be. It was on the wild range of basic randomness. It could be everything from being outraged to saddened. When Joel begged to see you for the tenth time, Maria finally agreed. Even if you got better than when Dina had driven you into the hospital, you were still looking as if the people have beaten the fucking shit out of you. The man reminisced over everything as he concentrated on making a craving of the hind you've seen last year since he thought you may like it.

And ever since he sat down to hold your hand, he couldn't but think it all had something to do with him. He wasn't sure how could any of that involve him, but because of a habit, he was sure that it was somehow connected to him. Joel visited both you and Tommy when he found the courage to, yet he always sat by your side way longer. It was making him calm seeing you slowly getting better, seeing as your skin tone slowly started to resemble the one he remembered. Sometimes, he came overnight to sit by your side the whole night, just watching over you.

Ellie was right. If the things weren't as they were at the moment, he'd go after these fuckers immediately. He had the habit of getting into a rage too quickly - but this time, you needed him there more than he needed to avenge you. Sure, you needed him there just metaphorically, but he needed to be there for you. There was no way around it - he was, indeed, in love. For the first time in the last twenty-four years. And he'd do anything just to keep you safe.

Naturally, people were sure that he'll take you to his house once you'll be able to leave the hospital. Sure, there were the weirded-out stares when he came for you, but honestly? Just like you've said, the people could go themselves. What did they know about you or him, about what you had going on? Maria seemed to be on board with the fact that you were a serious couple, slowly accepting you as a new addition to the family just the way she was adjusting to Dina. You two were always close friends she had in Jackson, but this was a whole new level.

"And here he comes. Howdy, you handsome cowboy." - Was the first thing Joel had heard you say after a few weeks and holy moly, the man was almost on the verge of tears at that moment. You weren't looking healthy, but at least you weren't looking like someone whos dying either. You put down a lot of weight thanks to your prolonged coma, you were sitting in a wheelchair and it could be seen that you're fucking tired. Yet as long as you were sitting there and smiling at the man, none of these mattered to him. - "Youre ready to sing the whole songbook for me, huh?" - You asked and grinned when he leaned down to steal a kiss from you.

"When exactly I said I'll be singin' for you, girl? My memory doesn't seem to be workin' as it used to." - Joel grinned back, looking over to Maria who came to the room to greet her brother-in-law. They shared a short hug before Maria took him aside.

"Listen. You need to be careful with her now, 'kay? She ain't one of the girls to break down under the gentlest blow of the wind, sure, I mean... Her head is probably more fucked up than her body. She had some wild nightmares last night, and she was mumbling some name from her sleep, but I didn't catch it." - Maria told Joel seriously, watching you make some small talk with the nurses, laughing through it. - "Also, you should know that she and Dina are on thin ice... I heard them screaming at each other because of something involving both you and Ellie yesterday and listen..." - The woman caught Joel's shoulder when the man almost turned away from her annoyedly. - "I don't know what it was about, but take the things slow for now, you promise?" - Maria sighed and in the end, she had Joel nodding.

Great. Not only that he and Ellie had some bad blood between them, but now you and Dina started to argue as well... Those were some great fucking news. - "How's my baby brother doin'? Heard he woke up yesterday." - Joel changed the topic and at that, he saw Maria tearing up. First, it was hard to tell if she's happy or sad, but she nodded and smiled in the end.

"It's still your brother my husband inside of that head. His bones are fine now, so give him two weeks and he'll be standing on his feet again." - The blonde woman whispered happily, feeling the stress washing off of her slowly. At that, Joel smiled and nodded, freaking out when your head suddenly appeared next to his palm as you tugged his shirt.  

"Are we going or what?" - You asked, looking at both him and Maria. - "Dude, I haven't smelled the fresh air in weeks and you don't know how eager am I to take a motherfucking bath." - A hum left your mouth as you thought about pouring yourself some water. Joel sure as hell was surprised with your cussing - you didn't cuss as much before the incident, at least not around him.

"I shouldn't leave the girl hanging. See you around Joel, and... Look after her." - Maria teased you with a smile, wiping the tears away. At that, you chuckled with a dry tone, giving her a daring smile back. - "I am not a baby, Maria. And you sure as hell ain't my mother." - You bumped her thigh with a faked drama, having the woman laugh lighthearted.

"But you can't even walk for now. So you're a baby. Jesus, Joel, tame her down." - Maria joked, leaving you two alone for Joel to take you home already. The man gladly pushed the wheelchair to your house to pick some clothes from there while you made him talk about the weeks he spent without you. He was glad to have you poking fun of him again, making jokes, and speculate about things, no matter how much you were swearing.

"Which ones should I take?" - Joel asked while you sat in the doorframe, watching the man packing your stuff. - "The ones you find the sexiest, of course. That makes sense." - You answered him almost immediately, having the man shaking his head. You were impossible at times and it caught him off guard every time. - "You keep on dreamin', girl. I'll take the most comfortable ones for starters." - Joel dismissed the innuendo. With a loud sigh, you rolled your eyes.

"You, Miller, are not fun. I can't wait to get my hands on you." - You mumbled with a dreamy smile on your face. That made Joel sit on the edge of your bed, looking you into the eyes. - "I told you to keep on dreamin' and there's no way you can go around that, young blood. Not until you feel better." - He told you, seeing your expression to soften a bit.

Even if you weren't in a state to acknowledge that, you've missed him dearly. This man was something out of the world. And you almost didn't remember that you two were an official thing in Jackson until Maria had told you what happened that night when he and Seth argued about Ellie. That was probably the wildest realization you had ever since you've woken up. - "Heard you have some trouble with Dina, wanna tell me 'bout that?" - Joel asked you suddenly, having you sigh.

Dina came to ask you about the whole incident thing and God, it pissed you out. The audacity to ask people rude stuff Dina sometimes had was quite unbelievable. You had just woken up, disoriented and with the drugs still wearing off and she was already there, asking you stuff. This matter was the kind you had to solve inside your head first before talking about it with the others. You remembered some pieces from the time you were in limbo - like Abby's face. Not her entire face, but you knew that you'd recognize her eyes anywhere, on any given material. The whole Abby issue was something you weren't ready to talk about with anyone just yet - especially with Joel when he was the one you've endured so much pain for.

"She wanted to ask me things about the cottage, so I told her to fuck off for now. And she took it way more personal than I anticipated her to, given it's Dina who I was talking to. On the other hand, I've heard you had a beef with Ellie too. What was that about?" - You asked back to make him uncomfortable as well. The man looked away for a second, fiddling around with his fingers to figure out some answer. - "The girls wanted to talk about the whole thing with me as well, but... I don't think it's my turn to decide who's goin' to die or not. But if you'd like to visit 'em and you know at least somethin' 'bout these people, baby girl, you can count on me." - Joel whispered, declaring his loyalty in this fucked up situation.

It felt like the safest moment to tell him that Abby was there to look for Joel. She was purposely searching for the man, and given what kind of a person Joel used to be before Jackson, you were willing to believe that he has done some fucked up shit to a person she knew. And she wanted to avenge them... But... Would you be any better if you'd go after them because of what they've done? Would that solve something at all? Or would there be just more blood? So you've just smiled at Joel, looking back to the wardrobe.

"Don't forget to take my granny panties too, I know they're turning you on." - A joke left you, but it didn't come across as funny at all. All it was was a desperate escape from the situation inside your head. Yet your man hummed in agreement, packing some more of your stuff. As soon as you were at home, you've decided to take a bath like the big girl you were - determined that you'll climb the staircase on your own. Joel was doing some stuff around the house, so once you felt like you're ready, you caught the railing and swung yourself standing, just to scream out in pain.

Joel ran after you immediately, checking on the situation - and it was quite funny how quickly his eyes widened in horror as soon as he saw what you were up to. His palm slipped on your waist and he put your arm over his shoulders to make sure you'll be standing on the a-ok foot. - "I was just about to prepare us some bath, you're ruining the surprise." - You chuckled to hide the pain. It was anything overwhelming, yet it didn't feel right to stand up on your own just yet.

Nurses told you to take things slowly because it was kind of expected of them to be the adult ones out of you two, but you were a hotshot at the end of the day. You wanted to feel empowered and independent, but the things didn't quite play out the way you anticipated. - "Jesus, I thought you've hurt yourself. You want to open up the wound again, or what you're after?" - Joel huffed angrily, helping you to climb the stairs up. It didn't feel as bad when you had someone to help you out with walking up. The discomfort was way lesser. So, making sure you're contained, Joel got you a bath of hot water.

The man sat by your side for a fairly long time and chatted with you until it came to undressing. Even with that, he helped, acting like the most polite gentleman around with it. Slowly, you gathered yourself to take the bandages off your thigh, checking on the scab. The skin around it was now pretty weird, but it was more or less turning into a scar. Bobby promised you that you'll be soon enough allowed to walk on your own. Joel was weirded out when you limbed to him, unbuttoning his shirt with a gentle smile.

"Hey there, Texas. How ya doin'?" - You asked with the most overly dramatic Texas accent ever. Joel furrowed when your hands slowly got to his belt, unbuckling it skillfully. - "No sex, I swear. Just a bath." - You made a scout promise before rolling the t-shirt from his torso. When you took in the view of his chest covered in gentle hair, you nuzzled in, taking a deep breath in. You were both alive and safe. What could be better in this awful world?

A subconscious smile appeared on your lips when you felt as he leaned his chin into the top of your head, exhaling slowly as he smoothed your back, entwining his fingers at its small. When you made him step out of the jeans, you both somehow puzzled into the bathtub so closely that there wasn't an inch where you could move around. But that was what made it even better. Soon enough after you both laid down, you heard the man snoring lightly. So you just laid there until the water got really cold, and when it did, you woke him by gently soaping his calves.

"Damn, I've fallen asleep?" - Joel asked you with the typical sleepy-raspy voice. With a chuckle, you nodded, soaping your shoulders and upper arms. - "'s okay. You're an old man." - A tease left your lips when you felt him shifting behind you as he leaned in to kiss the nape of your neck. After a while, when you let the man smoothing the skin on your back and soap your hair, you turned your head at him.

"What?" - Joel chuckled, kissing one of your temples. - "Nothing, you're handsome," - You smiled and kissed him. Once you both put on some clothes, you agreed that you won't the bandage on for the night.

"You up for a movie?" - Joel asked with anticipation, but he knew that answer as soon as you stretched and yawned. Your look traveled to a book in his nightstand, which made you smile as you took it into your hands.

"What is this about? Space for Idiots?" - You asked, putting the book on its place before you sat into the blankets. Joel nodded, walking up to you. - "Ellie likes space, so... I wanted to make her happy with knowing some stuff. Doesn't look like Imma about to use it, though." - The man sighed, watching you laying down. So he just closed the door, tugged you in, and left to his carpentry workshop to work on a few pieces. When he was sneaking into the bed again, you were already dead asleep, yet he couldn't help himself and leaned in to smooth your hair. - "You up?" - Joel asked and kneeled beside the edge of your side, smiling at you.

"Not anymore, you couldn't help yourself, could you?" - You whispered, sending him a crooked, sleepy smile. It didn't take the man too much time to lay down next to you, making sure he has you curled up to his side carefully enough to protect your thigh from any possible impact that would hurt you. - "You still up?" - Joel smoothed your back. Was he about to say it out loud? Oh, dear Lord, he was. Was he ready to say it out loud? No, he fucking wasn't. But things were the way they were. - "What are you after, Miller?" - You hummed into his chest, being half asleep already.

"Uh, just a little somethin' to tell you, baby girl." - The man got out tenderly. There was so much emotion that it made your head sprang up so you were looking at him as your fingers smoothly caressed the small spot under his collarbone. He closed his eyes, exhaling once more. Jesus, you've never seen Joel so nervous about anything in the whole fucking world. - "I love you." - The man licked his lips and continued staring into the ceiling. He was so nervous he could barely look at you - you felt his heart jumping under your fingers as if it was about to have a stroke. At that, you chuckled and kissed his clothed chest, putting your head back there. It was cute that this was officially the first time when his palms got sweaty, and if it would be light in the room, you'd see that he's blushing.

"And I know that. You don't have to tell me... All it takes is to show me you mean it, Miller." - You whispered, hugging his side with your palm carefully, bringing the man even closer. He was petrified of the idea of not hearing it back. You told him just before you encountered the strangers, and now, when he was somehow sure it's safe to put his heart out there, you won't tell him back? - "You know I love you too, stop holding your breath, will you?" - You chuckled and felt as his chest lowered suddenly as he breathed out.

The other night, there was a surprise party for you and Tommy. That 'we're pretty glad you're alive, shitheads' type of party which greatly resembled one of the winter dances. You and Tommy with your partners were sharing one table as the people came in to congratulate you, even if survival was barely considered a thing to congratulate for. While Jesse came to your wheelchair and pushed his body on yours, making you laugh, Ellie has been torn apart between talking to you and not talking. Dina was mad at you and Joel was mad her, no matter how unimportant it seemed to be. Ellie saw your confused gaze flying over to the two girls and she could tell that you're confused why you're not there.

So when ten p.m. came, she walked directly to you, ignoring both Dina and Joel, pushing your wheelchair to the dancefloor. It was funny when she sat on your lap and you both felt the wheelchair practically tearing apart under you. But you just hugged her waist and laughed with her. The girl wasn't the one to cry, but when she looked at you being all happy and healthy, she teared up as she put her forehead onto yours and closed her eyes. Other couples were dancing while you two just sat in the wheelchair, sharing a moment of friendly emotions.

"You scared me back there." - Ellie whispered, looking around and winking in a fast pace to shush the tears away.

"No fucking way. I told Dina they've come late to the party." - A nasty grin assured her that you're taking her interest seriously.

"Do you remember something from the..." - "I remember pretty much everything, thank you for bringing that up." - You shut the girl off. Ellie's eyes widened and her breath hitched. You remembered everything. You remembered the people, you could have a clue about who they were. You could... - "Whatever you're thinking about now, Williams, drop it. At least for today. Can we be just happy I've survived that shit for one evening?" - A sigh left you. You knew the look Ellie was giving you. And you almost didn't trust that shell drop it. - "Dina already told me what you're after. And I need a few days to think about all the shit. Tommy and I agreed that we won't be talking about it with anyone until we feel the right time has come."

"So you wanna go after them?" - Ellie asked mesmerized. You didn't give her a clear answer, but there was a little light of rage and hatred inside your eyes. She didn't know the reason yet, but she already knew that you were pretty much ready to hunt these sons of bitches down one by one.

[nickelkeep]

No Cheeseburgers in Paradise

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen, for some language Word Count: 5.7K Warnings: Sam POV, Canonverse Divergent after S8 Written For: nickel’s storytime On Ao3

Sam hadn't thought of having a place to set down roots in a very long time. Maybe when he had been with Jess, back at Stanford. But that was years ago, and his home had reverted back to pre-Jess, the back seat of the Impala, and motel rooms across the country. So the parting gift from their Grandfather was a strange surprise, to say the least.

At most, Sam had thought that it was just a warehouse in which the Men of Letters kept their magical relics and volumes of lore. He never expected it to be a fully functional base of operations. Bedrooms, Bathrooms, a Kitchen? That was not what Sam thought he would find as he explored the bunker.

Sam didn't expect to find Dean instantly claiming the place as home. In a matter of minutes, his older brother had claimed room eleven and started straightening it out. Dean even went as far hanging up his clothes in the modest closet, on long-forgotten hangers.

Seeing his brother's almost instant attachment to the bunker, Sam couldn't help but find a room, knowing that Dean wouldn't let him live it down if he didn't. He picked a bedroom that was as many spaces away from the bathroom as Dean's but in the opposite direction. If Dean wanted to settle in, Sam could use that to his advantage and make a physical separation from Dean as well.

The distance between rooms didn't stop Dean from mothering over Sam. He rolled his eyes as Dean referred to his new mode as nesting: cleaning and organizing the bunker, turning it into a home for the pair of them. The latest chore Dean had given himself, and one Sam hadn't seen in a long time?

Cooking.

Sam smelled the meal before Dean turned into the Library, two plates in hand. Dean set one in front of Sam, confirming what the younger Winchester had already thought. Dean had taken use of the kitchen and made them each their own burger.

"Uh, thanks, Dean." Sam looked down at the burger Dean had set before him. "Special occasion tonight?"

"Nope. Was just doing that nesting thing. Figured I could clean the kitchen, then I tested the stove, then I remembered we did some shopping. So I cooked." Dean sat at the next table over, observing Sam. "It's nice to have a full-size kitchen."

"I'm sure." Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving the burger on the plate. "You know, I'm not all that hungry."

"That's bullshit, and you know it, Sammy." Dean bit into his burger and smiled. "Man, when's the last time I was able to make something like this?"

"At Madison's place," Sam mumbled under his breath. "Or maybe before you and Bobby met Cas." Sam shot a look at over Dean, who was blissfully unaware of Sam's comments as he devoured his burger. He shook his head and stared back down at the burger on his plate. It had taken Sam years to figure it out, but Dean's burgers - while fucking delicious - were completely and utterly cursed.

While the outcome of eating Dean's food wasn't always adverse, something would always happen.

"Sammy, eat." Dean pointed at the burger. "I've really outdone myself this time."

Sam bit his bottom lip, dreading what was coming, but nodded all the same as he picked up the burger and took a bite. He let out an almost obscene moan as he devoured Dean's burger. His older brother wasn't kidding when he said this was his best yet. Guiltily and nervously, Sam finished off his dinner before looking at Dean. "That was amazing."

"Right? Now just wait until I get the stuff for making pie. I can even make the crust from scratch with the kitchen we have!" A broad smile widened across Dean's face as he leaned back in his seat. "I'm excited!"

"Well, don't get too excited." Sam tossed a paper over to Dean. "We've got a case." Sam rested his hand in his lap and crossed his fingers. The last thing the brothers needed was the world falling apart on them because Dean kept cooking for them while in the bunker.

Dean bit his bottom lip and nodded. "This looks like a Winchester thing."

Sam let out a sigh of relief.

…

On the way back from the case, Sam found himself silently cursing the fact that he and Dean had both eaten Dean's burgers. The case thing had been surprising and more of a case than even Sam had realized. Dean ended up killing Hitler for a second time. On the way back to the Bunker Dean practically called everyone - talking to anyone who would answer. Cas, that vampire guy, Kevin... Clearly, Dean eating his own burger had been a perk.

While nothing had genuinely happened to Sam, he found himself looking twice at shadows and jumping at sudden sharp noises. Not a good thing when your best friend is an angel that liked to blip around.

As the weeks continued, Sam found himself making salads to keep himself from eating more of Dean's Burgers.

Dean came storming into the kitchen. "Dude! Kevin's figured out the tablet. He knows how to close the gates of Hell!" Dean stopped in front of Sam and pointed down at the salad. "Did you try out that salad dressing I left you in the fridge?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Sam looked up at Dean in surprise. "You made salad dressing?" Sam blanched at the realization he had something Dean had prepared.

"Yeah, we were getting low on that vinaigrette that you like, so I tried my hand at making it," Dean smirked. "Must not have done so bad if you couldn't tell the difference."

Sam swallowed and shook his head, trying not to let his nervousness show. "Nope, we're good, Dean. I couldn't tell the difference at all." Sam pushed the salad away. "So, about Kevin?"

"Dude, we can close Hell. I just need to go through three tests or trials concocted by God. Completed, they slam all the gates shut. We just need to find a hellhound for me to kill."

Sam blanched. He ate Dean's food, and now Dean was going to have to kill a hellhound. Sam cringed internally and reached for his laptop, and gestured for Dean to sit down. "Let's find a demon deal, shall we?"

"Hell yeah!" Dean rubbed his hands together and sat across from his brother

...

It was Sam who had stumbled on the string of luck in Shoshone, Idaho, ten years prior. He wasn't sure if that was lucky or unlucky for him and Dean. However, he still chalked up, locating the goldmine of activity to the fact he had eaten Dean's vinaigrette. Which had Sam thinking. What if it wasn't the food that Dean cooked that was cursed?

He knew he was supposed to be researching the Cassity family as Dean drove them. However, he was too busy focusing on and trying to remember all the times Dean had prepared food for him.

Dean's go-to food was burgers. If he could spare the time - like at Bobby's or when they could get a motel room - he would go all out, making them meals. And since they were mostly burgers, Sam's mind automatically associated Dean's burgers with their sudden changes in luck. But looking at the incident that got them on the road - that was salad dressing for fuck's sake - or another recent event where Kevin fell off the boat after eating a burrito Dean had made him. Sam needed to wonder:

Was Dean cursed? How would Dean have gotten cursed? Sam ran his fingers through his hair and tugged. How could he even broach the topic of Dean possibly being cursed?

Watching as Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to AC/DC's Hell's Bells, Sam vowed to keep his mouth shut until he could prove beyond a doubt that Dean was cursed. He pulled out his notepad and started taking notes.

As they pulled up to the Cassity Ranch, Sam looked over the list he started. He had matched up instances of Dean's cooking with significant events in their life, going back to before he had even left for Stanford. He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it in irritation before looking over at his older brother exiting the Impala. Without a doubt, there was a correlation between Dean's cooking, the amount of prep work that his brother put into it, and how big of a swing in luck it caused.

Now all Sam needed to figure out was how Dean got cursed.

Sam hadn't realized that Ellie had put Dean on grill duty. He figured that Dean was lurking, looking for any sign of the hellhound. However, when the patriarch Noah asked Ellie what her new secret to the grilled food was, she mentioned that Dean knew his way around the grill. Sam took a look at the grilled chicken he had started to eat, and almost instantly lost his appetite.

Accepting his fate, Sam took a quick pitstop in his room to write up a quick theory about Dean's curse and folded it up, hiding it in his duffel bag. If something were to happen to him, Dean would eventually go through his bag and find the letter and be able to put two and two together. If he somehow came out of the whole ordeal unscathed, he could pick up from where he left off.

Sam took a deep breath before zipping up his bag. He told Noah and Margie he'd join them on a slightly drunken night hunt. The hellhound distorted the sounds it made as it traversed through the woods, and was able to easily take down Margie, the youngest Cassity.

With Dean finding out that a third Crossroads deal was made, Sam was benched so Dean could undertake the trials. Listening to the remaining Cassitys bicker was a nightmare. And when the oldest slipped her cuffs - Sam was totally blaming that one on Dean - and ran outside, he realized how much trouble Dean was actually in. He shooed the oldest sibling back inside and ran to the barn, chasing after the hellhound that was going after Ellie.

Sam shot at the hellhound, striking it, and was promptly attacked. From there, Sam's luck changed. Much to Dean's annoyance, despite him not knowing the cause why, Sam killed the hellhound and became the brother who would undergo the Trials of God.

...

As the weeks passed, Sam was able to use his attachment to the trials to wave off Dean's food. Not that it kept Dean from fretting over him. It made researching the curse on Dean even harder to figure out. He still hadn't figured out a way to explain to his brother that he was cursed. Would Dean even buy it?

Sam had contemplated going to Cas, but a second look at his list made him realize something. Some of the references Sam had found were pre-Cas: the burgers Dean made at a cookout before him getting accepted at Stanford, the ones Dean made on the drive back to Stanford after the Woman in White, and the ones at Madison's place. There were smaller, less complicated meals, Sam was sure of it, but Dean had made them. If those were done before Cas came into their life, it meant either Cas knew about the curse and didn't care, or that the curse was something that even the angel couldn't fix.

The second trial came and went. Freeing Bobby from Hell had been an ordeal, and Sam had to wonder what Dean had eaten to make it so catastrophic. Adding the event to his list, Sam focused on lifting the curse off of his brother. They were getting closer to the end, and while he had every intention of seeing the trials all the way through, Sam had a feeling they would also be his downfall.

The day before the brothers started the third trial, Sam asked Dean for a burger. He figured that the worst that could happen was that he would die. Sam partially expected it, especially with how rapidly he had deteriorated over the past several months. In the best-case scenario, it would change his luck, and he would live. Just like he had at the Cassity's and before making the trek to Hell for the second trial, he left a letter and his findings for Dean, explaining what he knew of the curse.

As the third trial progressed, Sam realized that the burger wasn't helping him. He wasn't sure if it was slowing down the process so he could complete it, but Sam knew that he wasn't going to make it, and only hoped that Dean would forgive him.

…

Sam didn't remember passing out as he woke up in the Impala. "Dean?"

"Sleeping beauty finally decided to wake up?"

"What happened?" Sam looked out at the road. "The last thing I remember is the church..."

"Long story short? The Trials failed. You've been out cold for two days. That Metatron dick tricked Cas, and the Angels fell." Dean shrugged. "We're meeting Cas back at the bunker and double-checking the wardings. He's kind of a wanted ex-angel."

Sam tilted his head, and a shiver shot through his nerves. "Ex-angel?"

"Metatron stole his grace," Dean growled. "He fucking de-powered Cas and kicked all the angels out of Heaven knowing they'd be after him."

"So, what's the next step? Find a way to get the angels back to Heaven?"

"Yep, and keep Cas safe," Dean commented. "Teach him how to human, show him the ropes, get him tatted up," Sam swore that he saw Dean's Adam's apple bob up in a swallow. "We just keep moving one foot at a time."

"Sounds like a plan." The last part of Sam's sentence was muted by his yawn. "How far out from the bunker are we?"

Dean shrugged. "Hour. An hour and a half. Go back to sleep. We'll start on fixing our mess when we get back."

Sam didn't have to be told twice. He rested his head against the window and promptly passed back out for the rest of the trip.

...

Cas greeted them at the doorway to the bunker, pulling Sam into a quick hug before pulling Dean into a prolonged embrace. Sam smiled at the casual affection between his brother and Cas when a thought triggered in his brain. Sam liked seeing the pair of them happy. And if Cas and Dean made each other happy, that made Sam even happier.

But Cas had never eaten Dean's food before.

If Cas was no longer an angel and was a full-fledged human, he was going to need to eat. If Cas was going to eat, he was going to eat Dean's food. Sam dragged his hand down his face at the realization and made his way to his room to drop off his bag before heading to the Library to keep researching.

Sam had lost track of time when Cas sat down across from him. The former angel sat a burger in front of him and had a burger of his own. "Dean said you should eat, that you haven't eaten approximately forty-eight hours."

"I, uh." Sam looked down at the plate Cas sat in front of him and felt his stomach grumble. He looked back up at Cas and watched as Cas happily and eagerly bit into the sandwich. "I don't think I could keep it down."

"Would you actually know unless you tried?" Cas groaned around another bite of burger. "Dean said he remembered me liking burgers during the confrontation with Famine. He thought that would be a good first meal that he cooked for me."

"How are they?" Sam tried to casually write down the date and time on his growing list of food and luck coincidences.

"I do enjoy them." Cas took the last bite of his burger and smiled, before guiltily looking at Sam's burger, then Sam. "Are you not going to eat that?"

Sam couldn't help but chuckle, remembering times that Dean had stolen Cas' food that he ordered to blend in. He updated the 'burger' on his list to '2 burgers' and pushed his plate to Cas. "If I think I can stomach something later, I will. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." Cas moaned into another bite of burger, almost as pornographically as the first bite. "This is so good." He stood up from the table and grabbed both plates. "I need to go thank Dean again." Cas blushed and exited the Library.

Sam pulled his list in front of him. Based on the previous encounters, the effect of the food would happen within the next twenty-four hours. He just needed Cas to experience it. Then he could bring up the curse with the ex-angel, and hopefully have a co-conspirator into finding a way to break the curse.

As he leaned back in his seat, Sam's stomach growled. He whimpered, realizing that the burger did smell really good, and pushed himself out of his chair, slinking back to his room to grab something healthy and untouched by Dean.

...

While Sam certainly didn't follow Cas into his bedroom when he went to sleep or into the bathroom, Sam kept the ex-angel in his sight the majority of the time. It quickly passed twenty-four hours, and Dean happily kept feeding Cas, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary

He sat down at the table in the Library after pulling out another book on curses, when Cas silently snuck in and sat down across from him again. "Am I doing something wrong, Sam?"

Sam jumped in his seat, banging his knee against the desk. "Jesus, Cas. Now I know why Dean's always saying he's going to get you a damn bell."

"My apologies," Cas smirked, and Sam couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes in return. "I was curious as to why you've been following me so closely. Is there something inadequate in the way Dean is helping me?"

"Uh, well." Sam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, there are always things I could recommend, but that's not why I was watching you. I was watching because I wanted to see how Dean's food affected you."

"It is quite delicious. I'm curious as to why you don't partake? You make salads and eggs and those green drinks that don't look very appealing." Cas tilted his head. "What's going on, Sam?"

"Well, can I answer your question with an ask?"

"I believe you just did." Sam wasn't sure how or when the former angel developed so much sass and fought to keep his jaw from falling. "Go ahead and ask, Sam."

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "Have you noticed anything... weird, since eating Dean's food?"

"Intoxication. Urination. Defecation. They're all weird human necessities." Cas leaned back in his chair. "All of this is new to me, Sam. I'm going to need you to be specific."

"Fine. Have you noticed any big things happening within twenty-four hours of eating Dean's cooking? Good or Bad things?" Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his knuckles. "Or anything that seems weird, even for a human?"

"I have not." Cas shook his head in the negative. "Granted, as I said before, I probably would not have noticed, but nothing seems extraordinary if I gather your meaning correctly."

"Damn." Sam pulled out his notepad and wrote down what Cas had told him. "It's good that you haven't, but the fact that you haven't blows my theory out of proportion."

"Your theory?" Cas crossed his ankle over his knee, attempting to get more comfortable in the chair.

"I think Dean's been cursed for a very long time. I need to see Dad's journal and get some more confirmation before I bring this to Dean, but I also want to tell him how to break the spell before I do." Sam rubbed at his forehead. “You probably wouldn't even notice."

"No, I'm pretty sure I would. How is he cursed?" Cas crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Sam.

"Cas, if my research is right, which, it's always right, Dean's been cursed since before I went to Stanford. Wouldn't you have noticed it when you raised him from Hell?" Sam leveled his own stare in response.

Cas shook his head. "I did a thorough check of his body as I repaired it. There as no curse on him."

"Well, what if I told you that anytime someone eats his cooking, something big happens to them. It can be a good thing or bad thing, and it always happens within twenty-four hours." He turned his notepad with his findings and showed it to Cas. "I've been waiting to tell him, but it doesn't seem like it's ever the right time."

"I don't think there is a right time to tell someone they're cursed, Sam."

"I know, Cas!" Sam dragged his hands down his face. "I just wanted to know how to break the curse when I told him that he was cursed so he wouldn't be upset."

"He'll probably be more upset that he knew you willing hid it and didn't share the fact." Cas pointed at some of the findings on the list. "He made burgers before you killed a potential mate. He fed you not once, but twice before you started the trials..." Cas shook his head.

"I just want to know why and how you're immune." Sam rubbed at his temples. "I'm going for a walk. I'll have my phone if you need me, but Cas. Please. You can't tell Dean." Sam turned on his best puppy dog eyes, hoping they'd finally have an effect on Cas. "I'll tell him, I promise. I just... give me a little longer to see if I can figure this out."

Cas' lips turned in discontent. "Forty-eight hours, Sam. I'll give you two days, but then you have to tell him."

"Thank you." Sam let out a small breath of relief, although he wished Cas would have given him more time. He marked his page and slammed the book shut, taking it with him as he practically ran out of the Library and through the War Room before exiting to the outside of the bunker.

Sam walked along the gravel roadway before coming to the main road. He looked both ways and crossed over the pavement, heading to the open field on the other side. After finding a suitable place to sit, Sam cracked the book back open and continued from where he left off reading.

As he read through the pages, a thought nagged at the back of his mind. Cas.

Cas never noticed Dean's curse. He literally grasped Dean's soul, pulled it out of Hell, and rebuilt his body from scratch. If Cas had seen the curse, he would have left it out of the refurbished body. If it was marred on Dean's soul, Cas would have cleansed it. But Cas never detected it.

Cas was also immune to it. For a brief second, Sam thought it was because of Cas' grace, but Cas was depleted. He was human. Dean's cursed cooking affected humans. So even without his Grace, Cas had no reaction. Sam started scanning the book looking for anything about a person being immune to someone else's curse.

Sam found a section about curse loopholes. As he read through it, something became apparent. Cas was not only immune to Dean's curse but possibly the way to break it.

After another hour of reading, Sam stood up and stretched his legs before heading to the bunker. During his readings, he recalled a conversation about soulmates and how Cupids were meant to make sure they found each other. Granted, that conversation ended up with Dean punching a Cupid in the face. Still, Sam remembered something about two souls coming together perfectly.

Sam entered the bunker and headed to the kitchen, finding Dean and Cas sitting across from each other. They were leaning towards each other, talking in a hushed tone, and everything clicked in place for Sam. He ran out of the kitchen and back to the Library, looking for a specific book, Vivlío tis Afrodítis.

He sat down in a chair close to the shelf where he found the book, flipping through the pages until he found the passage about souls being split asunder to find one another. According to the lore, if one half of a soul is plagued, bringing it together with the other would cleanse it. Sam flipped through a few more pages, frowning when he found how to combine the two halves to make the soul whole again.

Cas and Dean would have to admit their feelings for each other.

Sam dropped the book on the ground and rested his face in his hands. His emotionally-constipated brother was going to kill him. Sam had hidden the fact that Dean, or something Dean adjacent, had been cursed for at least fifteen years. And of course, of course, there was a way to break the said curse. True-fucking-love's kiss.

"Sammy?" Dean stood in the doorway of the Library watching over him. "You okay there? You came in the kitchen then stormed out. Now it looks like you were getting into a fight with a book there."

"Sort of?" Sam frowned, realizing it was now or never. At least Cas wouldn't hold it over his head. "Sit down?"

Dean crossed to a chair across from Sam. "What's up?"

For a brief second, Sam considered starting off his sentence with So get this... Instead, he let out a short sigh instead and frowned. "Dean, you're cursed."

"You're funny," Dean responded after a moment. He shook a finger at Sam, smiling. "You almost had me there."

"I'm not kidding, Dean." Sam pushed himself up out of the chair and walked back to where he had set up his research. He grabbed the notepad and turned around and handed it to Dean, who had followed after.

Dean flipped through Sam's notes. "Shouldn't I know if I'm cursed? Like, shouldn't I feel it?" He tapped a spot on the list. "Wait. Since then?" Dean's eyes grew wide. "Oh shit. I might actually be cursed." Dean shoved the file into Sam's hands and ran out of the Library, nearly knocking over an entering Cas.

"You told him?" Cas walked up to Sam and took the notepad and read over it. "How did he handle it?"

"I think he agrees." Sam looked at Cas, who had raised an eyebrow in question. "What? He said 'Oh shit, I might actually be cursed" and nearly ran you over on the way out."

"I thought he'd be more upset." Cas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the table.

Sam shrugged. "You never know, Cas. the day is still youngish." Dean strode back into the Library with John's journal in hand. "We'll learn soon enough, I think."

"Okay, so about two months before you got your acceptance letter, Dad sent me on a hunt." Dean flipped through the journal, stopping on a page. "He followed me because he didn't trust me to do it on my own. He cuffed me upside the head when it was all done, ‘cause I supposedly scared the shit out of him. The witch got a hit on me." Dean found a page and turned the journal to face Sam. "Dude, Dad wrote down what he thought she said. 'ut ardeat omnia lordum.'"

"'May all your lords glow brightly?'" Sam questioned. "That doesn't sound much like a curse."

"Which would explain why your father didn't think Dean was cursed and didn't treat it like one," Cas interjected, stroking his chin with the tips of his fingers. "Are there any words that could be replaced in that sentence that sound similar?"

Sam crossed over to the shelves and pulled down a book. "Let's look at some Latin, shall we?" He flipped through a few pages before tracing down with his fingers. Sam continued the process several more times before stopping and tapping on a word. "This is a long shot, but... lardum instead of lordum? It would make the sentence..."

"'May all your bacon burn.'" Dean shook his head. "When I make food, it doesn't burn. I'm too good for that." Sam rolled his eyes, glaring at his older brother, who merely shrugged. "I am! But what if it's not me burning the so-called bacon, but the bacon I make causing bad reactions - causing metaphorical burns?"

"That's a fickle curse." Cas quipped.

Dean nodded. "She was a fickle bitch." He set down John's journal and took the list from Cas. "All of these are - for the most part - burns. Sure, Sammy going to Stanford was good for him, but it sucked for me and Dad."

"It actually sucked for me in the long run, cause I met Jess and lost her. And any of the friends I ever made, other than Jess, were actually demons." Sam pointed out.

"And you needed to kill Madison. Shit, you have the run-in with Croatoan on here too. I had made us food before we rolled into town." Dean pushed the list back at Sam. "My food has been cursed to fucking make our lives miserable." Sam watched as a realization crossed Dean's face, and he pointed at Cas. "I've been feeding you non stop since we've been back here."

Sam looked at Cas, who look was looking at him. After getting a curt nod from Cas, Sam spoke up. "I've been keeping an eye on Cas. He's immune."

"I mean, I'd get that if Cas were still an angel. But Cas is human. Right, Cas?" Dean's face remained wide in concern.

"I am very much human, yes. But Sam clearly must have figured something out, as he's told you that you're cursed."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. While he was sure he had figured it out, he wasn't sure either of the two men with him would follow through. "I think I did, yeah."

"Well, don't leave us hanging, Sammy!" Dean clapped his hands together. "I'd very much like to know my cooking isn't killing people."

"Cas, can I ask you a question?" Sam looked to his side, hoping Cas could help him out without even realizing it.

"Yes, Sam."

"When you were stripped of your grace, did you get a soul to replace it?" Sam watched Dean from the corner of his eye as he looked at Cas.

"Yes." Cas nodded. "I am fully human."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Dean interrupted.

"Cas," Sam continued. "Can you tell anything about your soul, or was that a grace thing only?"

Cas sadly shook his head. "I could if I still had my grace, but as a human? I cannot. Why?"

"Well, need I remind you guys that soulmates are a thing?" Sam walked over to the chair where he'd been sitting with the Vivlío tis Afrodítis, picking it up off the ground. "Soulmates are forced asunder, destined to find each other. If something happens to one half of the soul, if the other half is clean, it can purify any taint."

"HOLD UP." Dean snatched the book out of Sam's hand and started flipping through it. "You're saying..."

Sam cringed at his brother's reaction, even though he expected it. "You and Cas are soulmates, Dean. I'm certain of it. I mean, I've been suffering your pining and longing for several years now. And now that Cas is human and has a soul? You two are meant to be together. I wouldn't be surprised if the cupids came after you in a good way."

"You what?" Dean shot an incredulous look at Sam, before shyly turning to Cas. Dean mumbled something under his breath and looked at the ground.

"For what it's worth, Dean, I have loved you since the moment I touched your soul and rescued you from the depths of hell." Cas stood up straighter, as though he were trying to force himself to be brave.

Dean's head shot up in surprise. "You what?"

"I love you, Dean. As Sam picked up on, it's no secret. As an angel and as a human, it has always been you, Dean."

Sam looked to Dean, realizing that he was intruding on what could be a very emotional scene. He turned to grab his stuff when Dean spoke up. "You sure as hell don't make it easy, do you, Cas?" Sam cringed slightly, risking a small glance at his brother and best friend. Dean had taken a step forward and held Cas' hands in his own. "Sam'll tell you. We were told that love wasn't allowed in this life. It was beaten in our heads, and it was mostly ‘cause our old man was so cut up over losing Mom." Sam nodded to show his agreement with Dean, who continued. "But you? You came in like a comet, Cas. Sparks flying, thunder crashing, lightning striking. The whole kit and caboodle."

"And what does that mean, Dean?" Cas freed one of his hands and cupped Dean's cheek. Sam wanted so desperately to look away, to escape out of the Library. Still, he was entirely entranced by the scene unfolding in front of him.

"It means that I love you too. I was captivated by you in the barn. I knew there was something between us, but it wasn't until..." Dean scoffed. "Let's just say I had to grow up a little to realize how much you mean to me." Dean leaned in and pressed his lips against Cas', and Sam knew that it was time to leave.

Sam set his book down and quietly exited the Library, deciding to set up in his room for the rest of the night.

…

The next morning, Sam woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs, toast, and coffee. The magical blend of aromas forced Sam out of bed and down to the kitchen. There, he found Cas sitting at the table, wearing one of Dean's Zeppelin shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants. Dean was at the stove, in similar apparel.

"Morning, Sammy." Dean looked over his shoulder, smiling, and Sam couldn't help but return the contagious smile his brother had flashed. "Join us?"

Looking back and forth between Cas and Dean, Sam agreed. "Using me as a guinea pig?"

Dean winked at Cas. "Don't you know it, Sammy."

[samsoleil]

9 and 10?

ask game

V I am sending the most fond vibes in your direction I hope they make it there okay!!

10. Your favourite season and why.

Honestly? Either S2 or S11.

Season 2: Sam has psychic powers and Dean is terrified that his brother might actually be bad, but is still ride or die for him. This is where we can see their relationship flourish without the search for John hanging over their heads. But y'know what does hang over their heads? John telling Dean he'll either have to save Sam or kill him, and Sam who is desperate to be saved and willing to be killed. And then!! when Sam dies!!! Dean saves him in the worst possible way!!!! Also, it's visually gorgeous. You've got the high contrast vibes from S1 but slightly less desaturated and you've still got the grainy film texture. An excellent time.

Season 11: Listen. I still think it should have been Chuck sending Sam visions. And I don't particularly care for the B plot. But Sam and Dean peak in this season for the first time since pre-s4 and it was amazing. It's the immediate aftermath of Sam literally unleashing  "a force on the world that could destroy it" to save Dean. Codependency at its peak. And in two mid-season episodes they absolutely nail the S2 energy. I mean, establishing beyond any doubt that Dean loves Sam? And then making him think Sam is dead in the very next episode? Where Sam is also the dictionary definition of BAMF? Not to mention, Sam is just. so understanding of Dean and his messy feelings about Amara. Love that for them.

9. What episodes best encapsulates the brother’s relationship? Does this change throughout the series? Doesn’t have to be the best episode btw.

To answer the second question, the brother’s relationship very obviously changes throughout the show. It’s obviously very codependent from the get go (especially from Sam’s perspective! Literally unendurable), and it varies in toxicity. Some seasons they are very soft! Some seasons I want to shout at Sam to run for the hills and never return. And then there are some episodes in seasons where their relationship is literally awful that are wonderfully tender (like 08x21 when Dean says “You gotta let me take care of you, man”). 

Imo, S1-3 are peak brothers. S4/5 are excellent to watch but not the most tender. S6 is on thin fucking ice. S7-10 are, generally speaking, when I would absolutely be willing to kill a man (Dean), but are still SO compelling because these crazy kids are devoted and have no moral boundaries when it comes to the other. S11 is a return to the good stuff! I haven’t seen the seasons after that but from what I have seen, Sam becomes a Dean apologist and Dean just gets worse. But they’re still codependent, so that’s fine. “You were gonna leave and you weren’t even going to tell me?” and “What about me? Would you trade me?” are baller lines. Sam is a grown man but he’s out here saving the world by being Dean’s baby brother. Iconic of them.

OKAY so. First question. I originally had several episodes per season but I have to limit it to 2, this is going to be too long otherwise. Also, as you well know, I've only watched up to 12x06, so I won't include S12 here. 

Episodes (and explanations) under the cut!

Obviously, both 01x01 Pilot and 15x20 Carry On. Literally the perfect bookends for this show. I don’t need to elaborate.

01x05 Bloody Mary - Has the moment where Dean actually has an emotional conversation with his brother, because he’s switched on to Sam’s emotional needs. He was willing to let Sam blame him for Jess’ death so that Sam didn’t blame himself! And near the end it has the iconic line "You're my brother and I'd die for you." Dean, right? No! It was Sam!! Anyone with any sort of reservations about whether Sam cared about Dean in early S1 can refer to this episode. It’s episode 5!! of the whole show!! and it has that line!!

01x11 Faith - Sam has absolutely no regrets about someone dying to save Dean's life. In retrospect, this episode says a lot about how much Sam loves Dean.

02x01 In My Time of Dying - Sam can sense that Dean is there, either through psychic powers or because they are soulmates. Both are good. Also, Dean is told that he may have to kill Sam, which influences their dynamic for the rest of the show <33

02x21 All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1 - Dean, on his knees in the mud, telling Sam's corpse that it'll be okay and screaming his name. That is all. Also, after thoroughly chewing out a victim earlier in the season for selling his soul to save a loved one, Dean sells his soul to save a loved one. 

03x08 A Very Supernatural Christmas - Sam decorated a Christmas tree with pine air fresheners to give Dean a Christmas. Obsessed.

03x11 Mystery Spot - Dean dies repeatedly, then dies for good for about 6 months, and Sam becomes a ruthless hunter in order to bring him back. Dean spends longer dead in this episode than he actually does at the end of S4.

04x14 Sex and Violence - Dean's siren is literally just a version of Sam that is devoted to Dean and would do anything he says. 

04x22 Lucifer Rising - Bobby coming for Dean's life. The VOICEMAIL!! Dean acting as though them being family is a cure-all and saying he'll beat Sam up, but also apologising. I'll take it. And then, of course, the voicemail Sam hears, which is more or less what Dean said in 04x04, and that being what tips him over the edge. The edge, of course, being killing Lilith to avenge Dean’s death, which has been his quest since the end of S3. Excellent.

05x16 Dark Side of the Moon - Ohoho. This episode. You know why this episode is here.

05x22 Swan Song - Same as the above! Dean who doesn't have a plan, just doesn't want his little brother to die alone. Sam, who fights off the devil himself and (essentially) kills himself to save his brother and the car they call their home. That memory sequence, for me, gave Sam the power not to save the world, but to save his brother. The world was just a bonus.

06x11 Appointment in Samara - "Dean doesn't care about me, he just cares about his little brother, Sammy, burning in hell. He'll kill me to get that other guy back." Dean's anger at himself for screwing up and forfeiting Sam's soul was. a lot. Also, Sam begging for his life and Dean just continuing anyway? Horrific. But very testament to their relationship at this point. Dean wants Sammy back and he WILL kill this other guy to do it.

06x22 The Man Who Knew Too Much - Sam being right about the consequences of having his soul put back in. And "You know me. You know why. I'm not leaving my brother alone out there."

07x03 The Girl Next Door - I was tossing up between this and 07x02 but. this has some flashbacks to past Sam!! Unfortunately, it also has Dean punching Sam for using the Impala, the car they both rely on to get around. And Dean murdering Sam's childhood friend for killing rapists. This isn’t an episode that makes you think “Awh, they’re codependent!”, it’s an episode that makes you send Sam vibes screaming at him to get out.

07x14 Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie - Ever think that maybe Sam fears clowns because he associates them with being abandoned? Also, nostalgia vs reality.

08x09 Citizen Fang - The voicemail from S4 is still hanging over our heads. Dean asking “Does that sound like the Benny we know?” and Sam replying “I don’t know Benny.” Dean keeping Benny away from Sam because Sam is apparently the one who will kill monsters with no nuance or remorse. But this episode is on the list specifically because of how pivotal the line "Yes, I do – too well. In fact, every relationship I have ever had has gone to crap at some point. But the one thing I can say about Benny – he has never let me down." is in absolutely wrecking Sam's mental health down the road!

08x23 Sacrifice - For obvious reasons! “You know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down!” and then Dean’s speech of blatant lies. It sounded good, though. Dean really is that devoted, but unfortunately he has amnesia.

09x01 I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here - Autonomy violation. This is what advanced care directives are for. Dean being so dependent on Sam that he would violate his autonomy and trick him into consenting to possession. Dean will do anything to keep Sam alive, including destroy Sam.

09x16 Blade Runners - The parallels between Colette and Sam are unbearable. “Drop the blade.” Also, Dean becomes SO feral when Sam’s cheek gets cut.

10x19 Book of the Damned - Sam’s speech! “But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….”

10x24 Brother's Keeper - Ahahahahaaa. Sam kneeling down in front of Dean and letting him kill him, if he wants. Dean not doing so. Please do not emulate this relationship in your real human lives.

11x04 Baby - Obvious reasons. Also, the perfect example of how these two communicate. Dean clearly states his opinion so that Sam has something to base his arguments around, and then Sam provides his perspective. That meta about how Dean and Sam communicate and how Sam is the major decision maker opened my eyes. Impeccable takes.

11x16 Safe House - The thing Dean loves being Sam (and Sam being genuinely relieved that it was!!). Sam propping Dean’s sleeping body against the fridge while saying “I got you! Stay with me.” Him cradling Dean in his arms and patting his head and Dean being SO confused but not fighting it.

11x17 Red Meat - Okay, I lied about the 2 per season thing, I just needed all three of these episodes. They are too good to not include. Dean joking to hide how scared he is for Sam? Being willing to let all three of them die just because he thinks Sam is dead? Attempting/committing suicide to try to bring him back? Sam fighting through immense pain to get back to his brother? This episode is so good. They are absolute lunatics (affectionate).