#she is so outta johns league | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liamgallaghermpreg · 1 year ago

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johndeanna with john watching her slut it up at some bar all night knowing full well she's gonna come home and nastysloppydirty fuck him later 👀👀

very tasty prompt, thank you ami <3

Deanna’s in one of her going-out-to-get-fucked outfits. John’s been more lenient about letting her out of the house like that since she turned 21 and especially since Sam left. Halter top that shows off her toned arms, tiny skirt, scuffed pair of boots. The ID’s still fake of course, but the age is real and it’s getting harder and harder for John to ignore that the baby in baby girl isn’t so accurate anymore.

He’s back at the pool table rustling up a couple hundred to cover both the tab and the cost of staying at the motel another week. Whatever they’re after, it’s not the wraith they thought it was. It’ll be another long day of research tomorrow, longer without Sammy here. Both John and Deanna are frustrated, snapping at each other over small shit, which is rare for Deanna if she’s not on the rag. And god help John, but he knows without a doubt she’s not on the rag.

“Your break,” says John’s opponent, slapping the quarter down on the table. He’d jump at the sudden noise over the din of the chatter if he were a civilian. The shiny head of George Washington stares back at him, and he nods, lining up his shot.

John could win a game of pool in his sleep, so losing the first game sloppily is a cakewalk even with most of his attention on Deanna and not the table. She’s leaning over the bar, tits all heaved up there for the bartender’s benefit. Her benefit too, John notes, as the guy slides a shot to her with a wink. He knows what that means. On the house, sweetheart.

He can feel the usual tremor of annoyance, protectiveness – whatever-it-is – run through him, but it’s easier to let it go when he knows exactly who Deanna’s going home with. It’s almost like foreplay for John; maybe Deanna knows that, maybe she doesn’t. She loves to flirt, his little girl, and she sure as shit knows how to do it.

John’s opponent sinks a striped ball and John fixes his cue to fumble a shot on a solid; Deanna’s moved on from the bartender and is chatting up a guy sat down at the end of the bar. The trucker type: grizzled beard and hands cracked with blisters and hat hair something awful. He thinks he’s got Deanna under his thumb and to his credit, she’s making him believe it. Leaning in way too close to his space, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Sauntering over to the jukebox to hit C5 – this is the only bar around, and they’ve been here enough times in the last couple weeks for John to know that it’s Communication Breakdown – and swaying her hips just a little bit off rhythm.

“Better luck next time, champ,” John’s opponent says. He’s got every stripe potted and is about to pot 8-ball while John still has a couple solids out and about. Easy fucking money.

His opponent wins of course, and John trains his face into an exaggerated one of disappointment, taking another shot of whiskey from the couple glasses he’s got lined up on the tall table next to him. Deanna’s tilting her head toward the shuffleboard table in the back with a raised eyebrow, but the trucker shakes his head and snakes an arm around her waist. Orders her another Jack & Coke.

“Alright, alright. How ‘bout a next time right now? Double or nothing?”

“Your loss,” the guy grins. “I’ll take that bet. I’m Tom, by the way.”

“John.” He shakes Tom’s hand and lays his money down on the table. “Your break.”

Tom chuckles, setting up the balls in a triangle and nods toward the bar. “You got your eye on her? Way outta your league, man. And she’s been all over at least three other guys since I got here.”

“Mmm,” John grunts. “Can’t always bag ‘em, I guess.”

This time, John takes care to pot a solid on his first shot, feigning shock. Maybe I’m a little better when I’m drunk. The trucker’s mouthing at Deanna’s neck, but for the first time all night, she looks back at John, biting her lip. She’s ready to go home.

Her legs are crossed delicately on her stool, which means she’s got no panties on. Cunt wet with sweat and want, John can practically feel the stumps of her shaved-a-couple-weeks-ago pubes brushing over his face. He’ll tongue fuck her first, get her all relaxed and open without even getting a finger in her. And when he fucks her it’ll be fast and hard. He’s got her on the pill with this most recent insurance fraud, so he can shoot in her the way she likes. The way he likes. The way his spunk will drip down her leg and they’ll wake up all sticky with it.

“Fuck!” Tom’s saying, frowning as John pots another couple balls. “Really thought you were shit at this, man.”

“Sometimes you get lucky,” John grins. Deanna’s made her way over to him by now, and he slips an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“Ready to go, Daddy?” she asks, a pout on her blowjob lips. Fuck, but if she doesn’t know how to get what she wants. He nods, twisting his fingers in her hair.

“You know what I mean, Tom?”

Deanna steps back, pressing a kiss to John’s cheek for the good luck they both know he doesn’t need. He sinks the 8-ball, and takes the money.

#spike's box #amiwritesthings #johndean #dadfucker friday #...a day late woops #femchesters #spike words

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batboyimagines · 4 years ago

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Cold-Blooded [Damian Wayne x Male Reader]

Your Dad and your Ma’s relationship is... rocky to say the least. They were never actually together, no marriage or anything. It was just one night of bad decisions that made you.

So your birth wasn’t well planned. You think the reason your ma even kept you was because she was lonely. She’s raised you to the best her ability for they past fourteen years but it was only recently your dad found out. Now they have joint custody.

See, all of that isn’t normal per say, but it’s not bizarre or anything. Just two inexperienced, lonely people screwing up in more ways than one to make a whole nother screw up. However, your parents aren’t exactly average. One’s not even human. Anymore.

Medusa and John Constantine. By the gods, that’s probably the worst match imaginable. Moms great and all, you really do love her, but she’s a little crazy. Being exiled on an island all alone does that to you. And Constantine’s just... a mess. Not even a hot one.

Even so, you don’t mind being pawned between the two. They’re both great in their own ways and you appreciate the both of them. Right now you’re hanging out at your dad's house. Though it feels more like hanging out with an awkward uncle than a dad.

It’s nearing about 8:00 in the morning, not that you know that. You’re asleep on the couch, gazing blankly at the ceiling. You forgot to close your eyes while you sleep again. It’s sort of creepy.

A sudden pounding on the door startles you up, breaking the staring contest you were having with the ceiling. A contest which you totally won. You blink dazedly and the pounding starts up again.

Mournfully slipping out from under the soft, warm stack of blankets you slept under, you lumber towards the door. You squint through the peephole.

Through the peephole you see a warped view of six costumes lunatics of all sizes. You lean back from the door and let yourself have a begrudged yawn. Gods, it’s way too early for this. Dad’s still asleep even with all the racket.

The littlest lunatic in the hood pounds the door hard enough for it to shake in its frame and you decide you’ve had enough. You don’t bother with the chain latch and just open the door a crack.

“Do you know how early it is?” You groan. The little lunatic, who is actually around the same height as you, scoffs.

“It’s eight pm. A normal person would be awake and ready for the day by now.”

“Well, I don’t know how you people are up then because anyone who dresses like that isn’t normal.” The green guy snorts.

“Listen, we’re sorry to wake you, but is this the residency of John Constantine?” The guy in the black leotard asks.

“... no, why?” You ask suspiciously.

“We are the Teen Titans and we are in need of magical assistance.” The really tall, really exposed, redhead says. “We require his assistance, on behalf of the justice league.” You tense a bit at that.

Okay, you don’t hold the things that the gods did to your mom against those two members of the justice league, Aquaman and Wonder Woman. They seem like nice folks who really do want to do good and not for the selfish, vain reasons gods usually do, but…

They got their abilities from the same gods who really, really messed your mom up for no good reason. So call you petty, but you don’t want to associate with them.

“Sorry, he’s not here.” You say attempting to close the door on them. The hooded lunatic jams the door with his hand.

“This is a matter of utmost importance, you will take us to Constantine.” He demands. You scowl at him and try to shut the door on his fingers.

“Screw off weirdo, he’s not here!”

“He is, you are lying!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am NOT!”

“Are TOO!”

“Christ on a cracker, what the bloody hell is going on?!” Your dad shouts, slamming the door shut, fully unlocking it and swinging it back open. Looks like the racket finally got him up. He sags at the sight of the troupe of crazies. “The hell do you people want?”

“We need your help.” Leotard man says.

“Of course you do. With what, I mean?”

“My father, Trigon, has possessed the justice league and we need a way to stop him.” The girl in purple replies. Your dad tenses.

“Trigon, eh? Sounds like a piece of work.” He says. You pretend to cough.

“Says the piece of work.” You tease under your breath because what’s even the point of a dad if you can’t make jabs at his life choices? He gives you a look and you just grin up at him.

“Why should I help you? The kind of magic that I’d have to use against that guy is expensive and tricky. I’m not gonna do it outta’ the good of my heart.”

“Because if you don’t help us, he could destroy the world.” Leotard says.

“Of course he could.” Dad breathes out as he sags against the door frame. You pat his arm. He looks at you and you give him an awkward smile. It seems to help him to a decision. He straightens up. “Well, I guess I don’t want the world to end. I need somewhere for this one to grow up.” He pats your head affectionately.

“Thanks.” You say, a bit embarrassed. Half because that’s the sappiest thing he’s ever said to you and half because, well, it’s nice to know you mean something to him. Even if he didn’t know that you existed until a few months ago.

“Well, come on in then.” He says turning from the doorway and into the apartment. The troupe of crazy people that nearly just broke into your house follow. You flounder for a moment.

“Wait, seriously? We’re just gonna let some random strangers, who nearly just broke in our house, inside just like that?” Your dad looks a bit guiltily at you.

“Sorry bud, but this happens a lot more than I’d like.” He raises his hand hesitantly and gently lays it on your shoulder. “You can go back to your mother while I deal with this, if you’d like.”

“No, no it’s okay,” You quickly reassure, “it’s not bad it’s just… kinda weird. You know it’s weird right?” He snorts.

“Of course I do, but to be honest it’s almost normal for my line of work.”

“You should get into a different line of work then.”

“You know, I probably should.”

Leotard man clears his throat- you know what? You want to know their names before they commandeer any more of your father-son bonding time. “By the way, what are your names? I feel I should know them before we do anything else.”

“Oh! My apologies,” Redhead replies, “I am Koriand’r, of Tamaran. And this is Blue Beetle, Beast boy, Raven, Nightwing, and Robin. We are the Teen Titans.”

“No offense, but you look more young adult than teenager?” She smiles sheepishly.

“Well, I was part of the original titans. I am now the leader.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.”

“Alright,” your dad cuts in, “so what’s your plan for Trigon? What exactly do you want from me?” He and the Teen Titans begin to plan. You stick around for a bit, to get an idea of what your dad does. It’s not very interesting. So ten minutes into planning, you slip away to make breakfast.

Now, your dad is a mess. Not kind of a mess, a straight up mess. The kitchen is almost a reflection of your father. It’s a huge mess. There’s takeout boxes and dirty dishes strewn across every counter, no room for literally anything there is so much garbage. And this is only a few weeks worth of build up. Dad actually cleaned up before you arrived.

Before you can even begin cooking you have to clean off the counters for some space. You’re trying to balance takeout boxes on top of the overflowing garbage can when a voice sounds from the doorway.

“This place is repulsive.”

“HUAUGH FUCK!” You whip around flinging the takeout boxes across the room. Hooded lunatic, uh Robin you think, dodges them expertly. He seems a little surprised. You clutch at your chest, “Jesus, Christ man!”

“Apologies, I… did not mean to startle you.” He raises his hands a bit, as if calming a rapid animal.

“Apology accepted.” You calm your rapid heart. Your freak out seems to have spooked any animosity Robin had earlier. The two of you stand around awkwardly. He’s a stranger in your house and he’s in a strangers house, which does not make for easy conversational partners. He looks around, avoiding your gaze. His eye catches on a painting on the wall.

“That is… an interesting picture.” He tries.

“Uh yeah, that’s actually a picture of my mom.” You say, playing with your hands.

“That is Medusa.”

“Yeah, she’s my mom.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

“She doesn’t actually look like that, that painting’s really inaccurate.”

“Why does your father keep it up?”

“I dunno,” You’d feel weird cooking with him watching you, so you make your way past Robin and into the dining room, “I think either pettiness or affection.”

“Pettiness?” He asks following you.

“Yeah, I mean, they aren’t together? I think they were at least acquaintances before they, uh, ‘conceived’ me. But they don’t seem to like each other very much nowadays.” You say, pulling a chair out from the table. You push the one across from you out with your bare foot and gesture towards it. Robin hesitates a moment, but decides to sit down. “What about your parents? They like each other any more than mine do?”

“No,” He snorts, “I think they like each other much less.”

“Oh.”

The conversation stalls. You shift uncomfortably. Robin stares a hole into the grimy table.

“Why not?”

“Pardon?”

“Why don’t your parents like each other?” He seems to think over his answer.

“They are on opposite sides of the law.”

“Oh, that’s tough.”

“Yes.”

“There’s tons of couples on opposite sides of the law though.”

“Not them. My father’s moral code cannot bend to suit my mother.”

“Ah, I see.” You lean across the table and pat his arm. He looks at it a bit suspiciously, you pull it back. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“No need to apologize, I’ve already come to terms with it.”

“Yeah, well, still sucks.” You say standing up. “I was gonna make food, wanna lend me a hand? I’m still new to cooking appliances. And electricity.”

“How are these things new to you?” He asks, even as he stands up to help anyway.

“Dude. I grew up on an island with no electricity or WiFi. All of this,” you gesture to the space around you, “is totally alien to me.”

“Ah, I see. Yes, I will assist you.”

“Thanks.”

He failed to mention that he has never used a toaster either. You both nearly burn down the apartment, had it not been your dad’s fire extinguisher.

TO BE CONTINUED

#Damian Wayne x Male Reader #Damian Wayne x Reader #x Reader #x Male reader

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jj-bxby · 4 years ago

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Where Do We Go? |Chapter Two| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary - Y/N is a Mainlander who has just moved to The Cut. When she meets her new neighbor, she just may have found the family she’s been searching for, and more.

gif credit - @rue-bennett

Word count - 4.1k (oopsies)

Warnings - Teenage drinking, mention of abuse, fluff at the end

A/N - Okay so I went a bit extra for this chapter, so please let me know what you think! And just ask if you’d like to added to the tag list for the series ❤️

JJ slung his arm around me, walking me over to the small bonfire his friends sat around. The bubbly blonde told me about how I would love his mates and I would become one of the pogues before I even knew it, and I sure as hell hoped he was right. We came to a stop at the fire, and JJ gestured proudly at me before exclaiming a little “Ta-Da!”

“Hey, you found Mystery Girl!” The brunette chuckled.

“Well, she isn’t a mystery anymore. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the Pogues. Pope, Kie, Sarah, and John B.” All of the pogues greeted me kindly, and Kie patted the empty spot next to her for me to sit down. “So,” Kie began, “We hope we didn’t bug you too much by asking you out here, it isn’t every day that someone new moves in!” She flashed me a smile. “And don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

“Except JJ.” John B grinned

“JB, don’t be a little shit, alright? We want her to stay, you doof,” Sarah said as she gave him a little push on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had to deal with JJ the whole way here. John B seems to be in the minor leagues compared to him, at least on the Shithead Scale.” Kie, Sarah, and Pope all laughed with me while JJ and John B looked at each other in mock-offense.

“Thank God we’ll finally have someone else who can put up with them.” Pope smiled.

“Oh yeah, it can’t get much worse than JJ scaring me awake and making me face-plant out of my hammock.”

“JJ did what, now?” Kie cocked an eyebrow at JJ accusingly.

“Okay, in my defense, I tried to wake her up calmly! She looked like she was gonna karate chop me or something when she shot up outta there!”

“Yeah, because waking a random stranger, who you have never spoken with, from her nap is sooo calm,” I teased. “But yeah, when he woke me up, I was not expecting it. He’s lucky I didn’t headbutt him!” I pointed at JJ, and he smiles.

“Yeah, don’t wanna damage the money-maker.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Your ego would have cushioned the blow.”

“Goddamn, girl, you’re gonna give J a run for his money,” JB chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, Pretty Girl got me this time,” JJ retorted while he stood up, walking over to me. “C’mon, can’t leave ya empty-handed.”

I nod at him, accepting his outstretched hand to help me off the log. “Back in a minute, guys.” JJ led us both to the standing keg in the center of the beach.

“Can you tell if they liked me? Was I saying stupid shit?” I asked the boy, slightly nervous. This was a new thing to me: I was never one to care about what people thought of me, so why do I care now?

“Don’t worry, doll, they loved you,” he winked. “Not everyone can handle me and my—“

“Bullshit?”

“I was gonna say cockiness, but that works too. But anyway, they love you. You’re a natural pogue, Y/N. I think Kiara and Sarah, like you, especially.” We finally reach the keg, and he turns to face me. “On tonight’s menu, we have beer or vodka with some strawberry lemonade Crystal Light. Pick your poison.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, suddenly finding the sand very interesting.

“So, uh, here’s the thing. I’m not really a drinker,” I begin, finally looking back up at JJ, who’s gaze never left mine. “And—“

JJ cuts me off, quickly. “Shit, I’m sorry. Look, you don’t have to pick anything if you don’t want to, it’s not a requirement or anything. And I don’t want to pressure you, you know?”

“Oh my god, JJ, shut up for just a second, okay? I was gonna say I haven’t ever drunk, so I don’t know what I like. I was gonna ask you what you thought I should pick, you dummy.” I giggle at him as he rakes his hand through his hair.

“Well, in that case, I’d say beer. Just don’t drink too quickly, ‘kay Pretty Girl? Don’t want you throwing up on me,” he smirked.

“Alright, beer it is, then.”

JJ knelt down to grab a cup and pour a drink, still chattering on about how I need to drink a glass of water for every cup of beer. It’s so stupid, but I was so in awe of him. This boy I knew nothing about just mystified me, everything about him did. The way his lips curled up at the edges whenever he said something he thought was funny, the curves and lines of his biceps, how wisps of his hair were caught in the starlight perfectly, and, oh my God, his eyes. They were so brilliantly blue. They were the kind of blue that made me hear Hawaiian waters in my ears. The kind of blue that brought a sense of serenity, despite the chaos around us. The brilliance of his eyes did not hide their depth — at least not to me. I could see the shimmer of midnight within them, and the kind of navy blue found in an endless, bleak cavern. Behind the cool, icy facade, there were storms dappled throughout the calm. JJ handed me my now full cup, and I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but a voice interrupted me before I could even begin.

“Found another Touron to fuck, aye, Maybank?” JJ’s head snapped to the source of the voice. Another tall blonde had walked up to us. This boy seemed to be the complete opposite of JJ: Gelled hair, board shorts, a pastel-toned shirt, and an air of arrogance surrounding him. He wasn’t calming like JJ, he was intimidating.

“Lay off, Rafe. She isn’t a Touron, she just moved to the island,” JJ spat. He then grabbed my hand protectively, seeming like he wanted to shield me entirely from the drunken boy’s words.

“Ah, so she’s a long-term fuckbuddy, then.” The boy, Rafe, cackled as he swayed. JJ just rolled his eyes and squeezed my hand in his, his eyes finding my own.

“He’s drunk, Y/N, don’t worry about him. Not that he’s any less of an asshole sober.” I nodded, and JJ faced Rafe again. “Go off to your Kook friends, and don’t fucking talk about her like that, got it?” Rafe rolled his eyes and ignored JJ, instead locking his gaze on me.

“Once you see his old man smack him around, you’ll change your mind about him, babe. He ain’t worth shit.”

I kept my eyes locked on Rafe’s as I spoke slowly, my voice unwavering. “Leave us the fuck alone. Now. I don’t care who you are, I don’t know you, but I will not back down to you. So you better stay in your damn lane. You seem like one to not fight girls, but I don’t discriminate.” I finish, and immediately turn around and head off towards the bonfire where the pogues were sat, tugging JJ along with me.

He stopped us and I spun around to look at him, glancing over his shoulder to see Rafe giving me a smug look as he took a swig of his vodka before I shift my eyes back to JJ’s. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’re a feisty one, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly take kindly to people who harass my friends,” I sigh. “I’m kinda scrappy, I guess. At least that’s what my everyone used to tell me.”

“Friend, huh? I like it. And, look, I’m not looking to just fuck around with you, y‘know? If I told Rafe that, it’s all he would have fixated on.” His gaze falling to the sand.

“JJ, I get it. Don’t worry, okay?” I wait for him to look at me. “I’m a walking box of daddy issues, anyways,” I smile slightly, and JJ gives me a laugh.

“Well, damn, we have even more in common than I thought, Pretty Girl. Now, let’s head back to the fire, you need to relax after all that.” I smiled at JJ and noticed how his eyes flicked to my lips for half a second. Just friends, though... right? JJ guided us back towards the group, his arm slung around my waist, and I was definitely hyper-aware of every inch of his skin pressed against my midsection. I take a sip of my beer, trying to distract myself. Finally, we stopped at the bonfire, and everyone gave us a little cheer and a wave, and JJ pulled me down to sit beside him.

“Hey, was King Kook giving you shit, Y/N?” Sarah asked me.

“Yeah, ’cause we’ll mess him up if you want us to,” Kie butts in, giggling. “But seriously,” Sarah continues, “You looked pretty pissed off, did Rafe say something? God, he’s such a dick. And I can say that, ‘cause I live with him.”

“Ah, he was just drunk and pestering us, is all,” I say. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Yeah, the pretty one can fend for herself, it seems. Not that I wouldn’t have stepped in if they threw down, of course. But, that being said, I would be pretty curious to see how badly Rafe would get his ass beat.” JJ grinned at me proudly, and I wiggled my eyebrows at him as I sipped on my drink.

“So, on a more serious note, what do you think of the OBX so far, Y/N?” Pope asked me.

“Oh, it’s so frickin’ gorgeous!” I nearly yell, and I bring my hand up to cover my mouth, surprised by my outburst. I giggle before I continue on. “Well, at least what I’ve seen of it, I guess. But I really can’t wait to go out on the water, of course I still need to find a boat somewhere, but the sea is so perfect for swimming. It would be damn good for fishing too!” I was pretty obviously excited, and John B grinned at me.

“Well, missy, you’re in luck. The HMS Pogue is in need of a drive again, and we were planning on going out tomorrow. You up for a little initiation ride?” John B asked, raising his eyebrow.

I smile widely. “Hell yes, I am!”

“Well, it’s settled. Tomorrow, you’ll officially become one of the pogues, Y/N,” Kie said excitedly.

JJ raised his cup, “To the pogues!”

“To the pogues!” We all cheered. Everyone began babbling together about things that needed to be ready for tomorrow — and whether or not they should push me off and into the sea to see if I can get back onto the boat as a ritual.

I smiled at the sight around me and took a swig of my drink, and JJ bumped his shoulder into mine before whispering in my ear. “See? I told you they’d love you as much as I do, Pretty Girl.”

I suppressed a shiver when I felt his breath against my ear, trying my hardest not to falter in my voice as I responded quietly. “Mhm, I’m pretty hard to not love, huh?” I brought my cup up to my lips again, and he cocked his eyebrow at me, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Goddamn,” he murmured as he shook his head. He glanced down at my cup and looked back up at me, concerned. “You better slow down, you know. I know you haven’t been drinking before, so… Just be careful, ‘kay?”

I rolled my eyes at him, sipping my drink again. “Oh don’t worry about it, I have to get used to it somehow,” I say, brushing him off. I can see that his brows are still furrowed, and I think for a second. “Y’know, if you’re really that worried about me, I guess you can stay at my place tonight.”

“Oh really, now?” He questioned teasingly.

“You’ll be on the couch, dumbass.” JJ just laughed, and his brows softened in relief.

“I like this arrangement. I’ll take care of ya if you need it, Y/N.” I nod at him, and I realize that I just invited him back to my own house, and I wonder when I became so brave. I turn away from JJ as Sarah asks if I’ve ever been scuba diving before, and I begin chatting away. As we talk, I can feel JJ’s gaze on me, and for once in my life, I don’t mind it. For once, having a boy pay attention to me was a good thing, even if it was simply him being a concerned friend. Eventually, I finish my drink and JJ pours some water into my cup, I mouth a silent ‘thank you’ to him, before turning back to Sarah and Kie.

“What brought you to the Outer Banks, Y/N?” Kie asks me.

“Oh, I guess it a bit of a long story. But… I think I just really needed a fresh start.” I say quietly. It wasn’t technically a lie — it was more of an omission. It was a long story, and I did need a new beginning, but I didn’t exactly want to say why. Not yet, at least.

“Hey, I think we’ve all felt that a time or twenty,” John B says reassuringly. “Do you have a job lined up out here yet?”

“Oh yeah, I’m teaching dance classes to little kids over on the North Side. I used to it back on the Mainland, too. Actually, I was a dancer myself back there.”

“Ooh, is it the one that’s brand new?” Sarah asks me, and I nod. “It’s only a few minutes from my house! You have to come over, Y/N!”

“I’d love to,” I smiled widely at Sarah.

“Here, gimme your phone, girl,” I laugh and hand my phone over to Sarah, and she enters her phone number for me. My phone ends up being passed between all of the pogues, all of them entering their contacts and sending themselves a text to get my number. I smile as JJ passes my phone back to me, finally, him being the last one to enter his number. Sarah is extra bubbly now; telling me about how she’ll let me pick through her closet, how we’ll walk on the boardwalk and see all of the small artisan shops, and how she wants to take me to the little ice cream stand that sets up every day near her house. “Kie, you have to come too, it’ll be a girls’ day! Don’t even start on how you don’t like unnecessary gender roles and shit, okay, it’s just an expression.” Kiara smiles and tells us that shes in.

“So if it’s just an expression, does that mean I can come too?” Pope asks, feigning a pout.

“Nope,” the three of us say in unison. “Look, we have to show her that there’s actually shit to do on the island, aside from working and fishing,” Kie says as she gives Pope a kiss on the cheek.

“And we have to get to know her too, duh. Can’t do that with you boys around,” Sarah smiles at me. “Don’t worry, we won’t do anything crazy, though.”

I smile back at them, and I tell them that I can’t wait for our girls’ day. I go to take a drink from my cup, only to find that I’ve finished my water, and I make a pouty face. I stand up, looking around. “Anyone need a refill?”

“Yeah, I do. You sit back down, though, I’ll run and grab some,” JJ tells me. I roll my eyes and tell him a little thank you before passing him my empty cup. I sit back down and see that everyone is looking at me expectantly. “Uh, did I do something wrong?” I ask.

Pope shakes his head, “No, no nothing wrong. It’s just—”

“We haven’t really seen JJ take to someone as quickly as he has to you,” Kie explains. “He doesn’t usually trust anyone very quickly.”

John B nods at me. “Yeah, the closest he gets is being flirty with Tourons that he wants to f— Ow!” Sarah smacked him on the arm to cut him off, and John B gave her a little glare as he rubbed his arm.

“It’s nice to see him actually let his guard down and hit it off with someone,” Pope clarifies, smiling kindly. “He’s a good guy, he just doesn’t trust people very easily.”

“But, he clearly sees something in you to change that,” Kiara adds. “I think he picked a good person to put his confidence into.”

I smiled to myself, appreciating the pogues’ reassurance. It feels like I’m actually surrounded by love for the first time in my life, and although it frightened me, it made me so happy at the same time. When JJ came back to us, we all laughed and drank for a few more hours, before finally deciding it was time to head back to our homes. We were able to walk together the majority of the way, but eventually we had to split off. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and John B all headed back to his house, and JJ and I branched off to my own. Admittedly, I was quite buzzed. I was lucky to have JJ at my side, as I nearly tripped a time or two, and he caught me every time.

“Y/N, you’re lucky I decided to come with you,” he laughed. We had finally reached my doorstep, and I was facing JJ, my back resting against the door.

“Y’know, JJ, I wish I’d done more stuff like this back on the Mainland. Made more friends, gone to more parties. I would have had a much better time,” I told him.

JJ smiled softly at me. “As much as I may agree, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad I get to meet you.” I grinned lazily at him, fumbling for my keys in my pocket, eventually finding the right one and shoving it into the lock, twisting the key and opening the door. I kick off my sandals and JJ does the same.

“So, I don’t exactly have a guest bedroom, but I do have a futon couch.” I say, grabbing blankets and a pillow out of one of my packing boxes and tossing them onto the couch. “I’m so fucking tired.”

JJ sits down, and looks at me, tilting his head. “You know you’re one of us now, yeah?”

I think for a second, not sure how to respond. “I mean, I guess. For how close-knit you all are, I’m glad you guys accepted me.” His lips curled at the edges, and his eyes left mine.

“Me too, Y/N.”

I clear my throat slightly. “Well, the bathroom is down the hall, and the kitchen is right over there if you need water or anything, okay? And my room is just past the bathroom if you need me. Don’t need me,” I say jokingly. JJ smiles as he lays his head back against the couch. I walk off to my bedroom to change out of my clothes, wash my face, and finally lay down.

•

JJ had finally fallen asleep after nearly an hour of thinking of you. He couldn’t get you off of his mind; Your smile, your laugh, the curves of your body, the way he found you sleeping in your hammock that day. You had looked so peaceful, your features soft. God, he just wanted to touch you. He hadn’t wanted to fall for you, but from the moment he’d seen you that day, his heart had skipped a beat. It still made his heart quicken thinking about it.

Kie just pointed you out to all of them, and JJ had to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground.

“Hey, who’s the new girl, JB?” He’d asked, taking a sip of his can.

“No clue, dude. I didn’t even know the house had been for sale, honestly.”

That’s when he saw you looking towards them, and waved as he flashed you a smile. He caught himself staring for an extra second, studying the way your cheeks looked as they flushed with color, and the way the right side of your cheek dimpled as you smiled.

Sarah gave a small whistle when she noticed him staring. JJ snapped his head to her, flipping the bird.

“Ooh, JJ’s ‘boutta be whipped y’all.” Pope cackled.

“J, you don’t even know the girl! Try not to stare so much.” Kie said smugly. JJ groaned, and chugged his beer. He knew they were right, he was staring. But he couldn’t help it, he had never found anyone that attractive. Ever. Something within him felt drawn to you, like a tether being pulled in your direction.

JJ snapped awake as he heard a small yelp. He slowly relaxed back into the couch, until he heard it again. He stood up cautiously, trying not to bump into anything. He padded down towards your room, hearing soft weeping as he grew closer. He gently opened the door, only to find you with a tear-stained face, thrashing your head against the pillow as you whimpered. His heart hurt at the sight, and, without thinking, he sat on the bed, and gently woke you.

•

I don’t totally remember what my dream was to make me wake up with tears running down my face and choked out screams escaping my throat, I just know that it was JJ who held me against him as I woke. I do know that it was JJ who stroked my hair and told me that I would be okay, that he was here. I do know when I finally looked up at him, he was the one who wiped away my tears with his thumb. He was the one who kissed my forehead as he helped me slow my breathing. I know it was him who told me that it was okay as I whispered so many apologies through my tears. His voice was the one to calm me as thunder cracked through the sky, lightning illuminating the room. “Shh, Y/N, it’s okay. You’re safe. I promise. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” he mumbled to me, stroking my back. He continued holding me against him, murmuring calming things to me, helping me relax.

“I’m so sorry, JJ. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember,” I whispered as I shook my head, my breathing finally evening out. “God, I’m sorry I woke you up. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that.”

JJ sighed, and he pressed a kiss to my hair. “It’s okay, doll. I always wished someone was there to do this for me. I’m just glad you weren’t alone.”

I pull back from his chest to look in JJ’s eyes, getting lost in their blue spell. “Thank you,” I whisper. He tilts his forehead to rest against mine. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, just as they did earlier that night. Boldly, I pressed my lips to his gently. And while JJ seemed surprised, he didn’t pull away. He moved his hand to rest against my cheek, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone delicately. I felt as though I was melting as he moved his lips against my own. I brought my hand up to his hair, finally able to run my hand through his soft mess of hair. We sat like that for what seemed like forever, our bodies intertwined as our lips slid together as thunder clapped through the sky. Until eventually, JJ pulled away, out of breath. “I… I shouldn’t have done that, have I? You’re drunk, Y/N.”

“No, JJ, I barely am, okay? I’m the one who started it, remember? God, I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” The words seemed to pour out of me, and I was suddenly exhausted. “I… I know it isn’t great timing. But I meant it.” JJ’s eyes examined my own, studying how my lashes grazed against my brow bone, and how gorgeous my lips looked despite being puffy. “Please, just stay with me tonight, JJ?”

He nodded slowly before laying back in the bed, opening his arms for me to crawl into, finally resting my head against his chest. JJ presses a kiss to the top of my head before mumbling quietly, “I won’t leave you, Y/N.” I finally closed my eyes again, listening to the fluttering of JJ’s heart and feeling his hands playing with my hair. I finally felt safe as I drifted off to sleep. It was the best sleep I’d gotten in years.

•

taglist ~ @hmspxgue @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @midnightmagicmusings

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chronicbatfictioner · 4 years ago

Text

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 13

"Grayson? Are you awake?" the tiny little voice was unmistakably scared. The Court has trained Dick more than enough to recognize fear in a human being, and complimented on his natural ability to read people. If asked, he would say that children would be the easiest to read.

Except for Damian.

According to Jason, Damian has been trained by his mother and grandfather, and a plethora of trainers, to eventually take the mantle of the Demon Head from Ra's Al Ghul. His trainers, including Jason, have joked that it might take a while; because Ra's was believed to be an immortal. He has the magic fountain of youth called the Lazarus Pit that could even revive the dead and has been using it in the past 300+ years. Or so the lore said.

Behind Damian's back, Jason has also told them that both Ra's and Talia were decapitated and their heads were missing. The Lazarus Pit might be able to revive the dead, except it required the important organs of the body to be intact; e.g. head, heart, lungs, etc. Dick reckoned that the heads were removed exactly to prevent the use of the Lazarus Pit.

"You need something, buddy?" Dick replied.

"Not at the moment, thank you," Damian replied, taking a seat next to Dick's station next to the door. "I can't sleep." he admitted.

"Nervous for tomorrow?"

Tomorrow they were going to the Wayne Manor, through a convoluted route that Tim has come up in order to avoid detection by anyone who might want Damian to a. not meet his father or b. kill him to take full control of the League of Assassin. Yeah, neither scenario appealed to Dick, but the little voice in his head said that scenario b might be preferable than scenario a.

Dick never understood men who denied their children of their presence. He remembered his dad, a poor circus performer, who would even give small shows for kids who couldn't afford to watch the aerials - walking on his hands, random somersaults, teaching them how to somersault. He remembered Tim's crestfallen face when he couldn't go and watch Dick perform that day - albeit it turned out to be a little more beneficial for Tim in the long run. He remembered his dad telling him that "whatever little things you show those kids now would make them feel that they are loved and cared for, even if they don't have money. And they'll remember you forever."

"I do not understand nervousness," Damian replied plaintively.

"No, but your brain is giving you signals that make you anxious, you know? Like, you're wondering what's gonna happen tomorrow, and a thousand of scenarios would run to your head. That's... the chemical imbalance is called 'nervousness', I think." Dick explained. Jason has also warned him that Damian hated being treated like a child. Jason has been the only person other than his mother or grandfather who was 'allowed' to discipline him and tell him 'no'.

Still, adult body language and attitude notwithstanding, Dick could see and recognize the child Damian still was.

"Soo... when I couldn't sleep, my mother used to read to me. I mean, obviously I could read on my own by then. But there's just something... I dunno, maybe my subconsciousness just calmed down at the thought that she was there with me. Whatever would happen tomorrow, she would be there, too, to proverbially catch me when I fall, you know?

"I know it's... hard, that... you know that your mother is gone and all. But the thing is - like Tim has told Jason, whatever will happen tomorrow with your biological father, you'll still have a home with us." Dick said, eyeing Damian sideways to check if he was offended or not.

"I have a home with the League of Assassins," Damian stated haughtily. "Jason has informed me that there is a difference between underlings and friends. I gather what you are saying is that I shall have you as friends - as contemporaries - rather than an underling, as you all seem to revere to this Oracle person."

"See, Oracle is not really our... supervisor. Oracle is a really good friend who believes that we all could be good and showed us how. I..." Dick hesitated as he was about to say 'she' to designate Oracle. "When Bane killed off the Court of Owls and almost all of the Talons, I was lost. But then I remembered this person. Through the years of my training, this person had somehow remained in my memory. And the first time we've met was literally a few hours before it turned to be the worst day of my life, the day when my parents' were murdered. Before that, I was playing outside, performing tricks for the kids who couldn't get in the aerial shows. Oracle was there and told me that I was a 'good person' after I was done. I don't know how or why, but it stuck with me.

"I am a Talon, I am trained to kill those who hurt Gotham City. I have done so many despicable things that... I dunno, common people might simply see me as... as a vile person. A criminal psychopath. But not Oracle. Oracle and Tim opened their doors, asked me to join them to help them make Gotham better for the common people. Because they believed I'm a good man. I've been here for barely three months, and I'm enjoying myself. Sure, the fights were harder and viler than when I was Talon - especially since the criminals now seemed to have superpowers and no longer fear the sight of a Talon. But I do it because I know they count on me to make it work. And because I know that whatever will happen, I'm not alone. I won't be hiding in a nest somewhere alone, tending to my own wounds. I won't have to wonder where I'll get my next meal from, or if I'll have a warm place to hide in..."

Dick was really just rambling because it has been a long time since anyone would listen without judging or being wary of what his intentions were. But then he felt a weight on his side and looked. Damian was leaning on him, eyes closed. He twitched a little when Dick quieted down.

So Dick continued, "It's been a while... a good long while since anybody listened to me and not take my opinion as being counted. As a Talon, I was to do as told. The 'how' would be the only thing in my discretion. The who, where, and when, were all decided. The 'why' should never be asked. Here, my opinion counts - except on wearables. I don't know why.

"Therefore, Damian. Oracle is not the 'leader' of us. I'd rather see Oracle as our pillar of support. I know a lot of the Oracle to consider... them--"

"Her," Jason's voice suddenly corrected him. "We know she's a female, Dick. Don't worry. We're not interested in figuring out who she is, yet." he smirked. "Subliminal marketing, much?"

Dick chuckled. "More like a bedtime story for the real-life assassin-slash-heir youngster," he replied. "How long have you known?"

"Pretty much the first fifteen minutes after her projection showed up. Her reactions of yours and Tim's antics were kind of like--" Jason paused and swallowed. "Talia's when we did the same..."

"You cared for her," Dick concluded.

"She took me off the streets and give me a home and purpose. So yeah, I cared." Jason replied. "So how did Oracle became your personal muse?"

"She has... uhh... distinctive features that caught my eyes then, I guess. Can you imagine that? I was like, ten years old." Dick grinned. "Puberty pre-kicking, I guess. But I'd picked the right person, I think. Most of the Talons forgot who they were after the training. I still remember that I'm Dick Grayson, son of John and Mary; once one of the best family of aerialists in the world." he said. "Was it anything like that in the League's training? Do they want you to forget who you were?"

Jason snorted. "No, if anything, they want you to remember and remember how bad it could get if you're not there."

"Was it that bad for you?"

Jason shrugged. "I'd probably end up as a hooker by the end of that week if Talia didn't get me outta Crime Alley." he replied. "that, or dead, or jailed. Whichever got to me first."

"Oookay..." Dick looked at Damian, who was fast asleep. "Think he'll wake up if I move him?"

"Naah, I'll move him." Jason offered and picked up Damian easily. Damian stirred a little but settled his head on Jason's shoulder. "Thanks. I got the feeling that if this daddy stuff doesn't work out, he'll be adopting you," he added.

Dick snorted a soft laugh. "Yeah right..."

But regardless, he did spend the rest of the night wondering if Bruce Wayne would rise to the occasion, or sink to his playboy reputation. Even the Court never bothered to pay him much attention, largely due to his larger-than-life obnoxiousness. He wondered if Damian would indeed be better remaining there, at the Birds of Prey's lair.

His last thought before succumbing to sleep was, at least there's Jason, who seemed to be the voice of reason for Damian...

#Dick Grayson #Talon!Dick #Damian Al-Ghul #Jason Todd #RedGhost!Jason #Tim Drake #Batless!AU #Oracle #Talia Al-Ghul #JayTim

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saltandburnsis · 5 years ago

Text

pilot, pt. 1

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Jess

Age: 20

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,261

Summary: Dean and Y/N are off to find John in Jericho, but Dean has a stop to make and another passenger to pick up on the way.

A/N: All dialogue taken from the show will be in italics.

Dean looked to his co-pilot with a soft smile. The maps she'd been endlessly perusing—uselessly, for he'd given her a false destination—were now covering her torso like a much-to-small blanket. He felt terrible for lying to her, but this wasn't a time for an argument, and he'd known that's all he would've been in store for had he let her know they were making a stop before Jericho.

He’d spent his life protecting her, but he couldn't protect her from everything. He couldn't protect her from the pain of their brother leaving. And now, with their father missing, he couldn't protect her from whatever feelings may arise when she laid eyes on the middle Winchester. So, instead of continuing to dwell on his shortcomings, he turned his gaze back to the road, tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and pressed harder on the gas. A cloud of dust was all that followed the old car, which was just the way Dean liked it.

------

Dean shook your arm, not violently by any means, but harder than you would've liked. You mumbled an incoherent complaint before rubbing your eyes and sitting up in the seat.

"We in Jericho yet?" You looked around outside, trying to make sense of the buildings in the darkness.

"Come on," Dean replied as he stepped out of the car and shut his door. You grumbled but obeyed, following him over to one of the buildings. You narrowed your eyes as he surveyed the fire escape on the side.

"Dean, what the hell do you think you're doing? Dad wouldn’t be in a place like this. I'm not breaking in without cause," you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We have cause. It's because I said we are. Just trust me." With that, he grabbed onto the rungs of the bottom balcony and hoisted himself up. You rolled your eyes but followed suit, silently trailing after your brother up four flights of stairs before he stopped at one of the windows.

"What are you doing leaving this open? Didn't you learn anything?" You heard him mutter as he slid his hands into the opening and slowly raised the window. Once he had it open, he swung one leg inside, then the other, poking his head out to look at you once he was in. "Coming?"

"If you tell me where the hell we are once I'm in," you replied, mimicking your brother's actions and entering the apartment. Rather than answer you, Dean began walking through the space, looking around at all that adorned the shelves and walls. You followed suit, eager for an answer. Just as you'd stopped to get a better look at one of the photos on the wall, a hand came at you from behind, grabbing your arm and flipping you onto the ground. The action knocked the wind out of you. As you stood and tried to catch your breath, the stranger began to fight with Dean. Within seconds, however, Dean had him pinned to the ground.

"Whoa. Easy, tiger." Dean flashed a smile down at the man.

"Dean? You scared the crap outta me," Sam scoffed incredulously. You narrowed your eyes. What the hell were you doing here?

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." Dean was still grinning. That is, he was until Sam flipped the duo seemingly effortlessly and had Dean pinned to the ground. Dean chuckled in response. "Or not."

After the initial shock of being in the same room as your older brother for the first time in four years began to wear off and you’d found your voice, you crossed the room and stood over the two of them, arms crossed.

“You two finished?”

“Get off me.” Dean pushed Sam off of him. As Dean fixed his jacket, Sam took a few steps back, eyes never leaving you and Dean.

“Dean, Y/N. What the hell are you doing here?” You looked to Dean, eager to hear his response.

“Well, I was looking for a beer,” Dean answered with a smirk. Sam opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the light flicked on. The three of you looked over to the doorway to find a blonde woman watching you.

“Jess. Dean, Y/N. This is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam looked at both groups—his two worlds colliding—nervous after making the introductions.

Jess looked at him, eyes wide in surprise. “Wait, your brother and sister?” Dean smiled and gestured to her shirt.

“I love the Smurfs.” He began to walk over to her. “You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother’s league.” You rolled your eyes.

“Just let me put something on.” Jess started to turn away, but Dean piped up almost immediately.

“No, no. No, I wouldn’t dream of it, seriously.” You grabbed your brother’s arm and pulled him away from the girl, hitting the back of his head when he was close enough. He cast a quick glare at you before turning back to Jess.

“Anyway, we got to borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But nice meeting you.” Sam looked to Jess as Dean spoke, then quickly crossed the room to stand at her side.

“No. Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

“Okay. Dad hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean replied. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s words.

“So he’s working overtime on a “Miller Time” shift. He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean looked down at the ground for a moment before turning back to Sam.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

--------

You and Dean stood in the living room while Sam was in the bedroom changing. Dean continued to peruse the pictures on the walls, avoiding your glare. Finally, you spoke up.

“What the hell are we doing here, Dean? He left, and we don’t need his help finding Dad.”

“If that thing has Dad, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Like it or not, we need Sam.”

“Yeah, the old Sam. But college boy? Who’s to say he’s not going to walk us out to the car just to tell us not to come back? We don’t need him. Dean, Dad could be in danger. Every minute we’re here trying to convince someone who won’t be convinced is time we’re not helping him,” you said, eyes darting over towards the closed bedroom door in case Sam walked out.

“You don’t think I know that? Y/N, we’ve got our best chance at finding Dad if we’re together. I’m not fighting about this.” You crossed your arms but remained silent. Sam emerged from the bedroom shortly after.

“Let’s go outside,” he stated, looking between you and Dean. Dean nodded and walked to the front door, leading the two of you out of the apartment.

“You know, you guys can’t just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you,” Sam chastised as he followed Dean down the stairs.

“You’re not hearing me, Sammy. Dad’s missing. We need you to help us find him.”

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst or the devil’s gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He’s always missing, and he’s always fine.” Sam stopped at the bottom of the stairs as Dean turned back to look at him, leaving you stuck behind him.

“Not for this long. Now, are you gonna come with us or not?”

“I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“I swore I was done hunting for good,” Sam stated. At this, you pushed past Sam to stand beside Dean.

“Come on,” Dean scoffed. ”It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t that bad.” He started walking toward the building’s exit, you and Sam on his trail.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45.” You looked up at your older brother.

“What was he supposed to do?” you questioned.

“I was nine years old. He was supposed to say, ‘don’t be afraid of the dark.’”

“‘Don’t be afraid of the dark?’” Dean was incredulous. “What, are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid. You know what’s out there.”

“Yeah, I know. Still—the way we grew up after Mom was killed, and Dad’s obsession to find the thing that killed her, but we still haven’t found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find.”

“Save a lot of people doing it, too. What, are we supposed to sit back and knowingly let innocent people die just because we haven’t found that one thing?” You couldn’t keep from lashing out, anger clear in your voice. Did he really think every life they saved and every monster they destroyed was negated because you’d yet to find Yellow Eyes?

“No. I just…” Sam sighed and looked at Dean. “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?” You stormed outside and over to the car, Dean close behind you. Sam followed you both, continuing his questions. “The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? Man, we were raised like warriors.”

“So, what are you gonna do? Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?” Dean looked back at his younger brother.

“No, not normal,” Sam replied. “Safe.”

“And that’s why you ran away. That’s why you abandoned your family,” you shot back.

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”

“That didn’t mean you had to leave Dean and me in the dust.” Your voice was softer with this, less angry and more sorrowful. Almost as if you didn’t want that heard. Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean spoke first.

“Dad’s in real trouble right now, if he’s not dead already. I can feel it. We can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can,” Sam countered before you could.

“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to.” Dean broke eye contact with Sam and looked down at the ground. Sam was silent for a minute before letting out a long sigh.

“What was he hunting?” Dean looked to you and you begrudgingly went into the backseat of the car, grabbing your backpack.

“It’s going to take me a minute to find everything,” you warned, mentally chastising yourself for throwing the papers in your bag so haphazardly before you left. The details of the demon you’d been pursuing and the information you’d helped John find before he left were intermingled in your bag. You made quick work of unshuffling the two cases.

“So when Dad left, why didn’t you guys go with him?” Sam asked Dean. Dean shrugged.

“The kid and I were working our own gigs down in New Orleans,” he replied, leaning back against the trunk of the car.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Sam chuckled.

“I’m 26, dude.”

“Finally,” you tossed your bag back into the car and stepped closer to your brothers. “Alright, so, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy—“ you handed one of the papers to Sam. “—they found his car, but he’d vanished. Completely M.I.A.”

“So maybe he was kidnapped,” Sam theorized, looking down at the paper. You scoffed and began handing him the rest of the papers one by one while Dean opened the trunk and began rooting around.

“Yeah, well, here’s another one in April. Another one in December ’04, ’03, ’98, ’92—10 of ‘em over the past 20 years—all men, all same 5-mile stretch of road,” you finished your explanation and looked to Dean. He finally found what he was looking for and continued the run-through.

“It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We hadn’t heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I got this voicemail yesterday.” Dean hit play on the tape player and held it out for Sam to hear.

“You know there’s EVP on that?” Sam asked once the recording had stopped.

“Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn’t it?” You rolled your eyes and took the tape player from Dean.

“I slowed it down and ran it through a GoldWave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.” You hit play and let the EVP play through.

“Never go home,” Sam repeated once the recording had finished. You handed Dean the player, and he stuck it back in the trunk before closing it up and turning back to Sam.

“You know, in almost two years, I’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.” Sam sighed and looked at the apartment building before looking back at you and Dean.

“Alright, I’ll go. I’ll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.” He turned away and started to head back into the apartment building. You furrowed your brow.

“What’s first thing Monday?” you called after him. Sam stopped and turned back to look at you.

“I have an interview.” He seemed uneasy telling you even that.

“What, a job interview?” Dean asked. “Skip it.”

“It’s a law school interview, and it’s my whole future on a plate.” Sam straightened up a bit at this reveal, proud of his plans.

“Law school?” Dean questioned.

“So, we got a deal or not?”

………..

forever taglist: @griff1ndor @gothsatanicrapunzel @choosemyname @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @not-astounding @sassy-specter @vicmc624 @idksupernatural

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jules-s-winchester · 4 years ago

Text

Sammy

I think you’re adorable- Supernatural season one rewrite.

Word count- 2,586

Chapter warnings: Language

At Sams college

"What the hell are you doing dean?" You sighed, looking up at Dean, who was now climbing the fire escape that led to Sam's room.

"What does it look like?" He said, continuing to climb, nearing the window to Sam's room. It was your fault, You had told him which room was Sam's after all. You were surprised by Dean wanting to get Sam. They hadn't seen each other since the big fight.

"You coming?" Dean asked, looking down at you, thus snapping you out of your train of thought. He had reached Sam's window and was opening it.

you sighed and started climbing. "Yeah."

:Readmore

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Easy Tiger" you heard Dean's voice say as you climbed in to the room through the window. The lights were turned off and you couldn't see very well. Your senses were heightened by your lack of vision and you were on edge. Part of being a hunter.

"Dean?" You heard Sam's voice say. You walked towards the noise. "You scared the crap out of me"

You could now see the shapes of Sam and Dean. Dean had Sam pinned. He certainly knew how to make an entrance.

Dean chuckled, "Thats cuz you're outta practice"

Sam flipped Dean over so that he was pinning him down. You smiled to yourself.

Dean laughed, "Or not," he changed his expression, You could tell he didn't like being overpowered by his younger brother. "Get off of me." he said, scowling.

Sam stood up, helping Dean up with him. You walked a little more towards them so they could see you.

"Julia?" Sam asked confused for a moment before he smiled and came forward to give you a hug. "What the hell are you two doing here?" he asked, after he pulled back. .

"I was looking for a beer," Dean said laughing at patting Sam's shoulders. you rolled your eyes, about to explain when the light turned on.

"Sam?" a woman with blonde hair came out of a room. She was very pretty and had medium length blonde hair and a kind smile. She was the type of girl that you would notice at a bar. Dean obviously thought the same by the way he was eyeing her.

"Hey, Jess." Sam replied looking back and forth between Dean, Jess, and you. "This is Dean, and Julia," he said, gesturing to you and Dean.

"Dean your brother?" she asked looking at Dean. you didn't think she'd ever met or talked to Dean before now. You had talked to her on the phone a couple times, just saying hello and what not. "Also hi Julia, it's nice to finally meet you." she smiled kindly at me.

"Likewise" You responded, giving her a smile back.

"I love the smurfs" Dean spoke up, looking at Jess. You rolled your eyes and shared a glance with Sam. "You know I've got to tell you," he began walking towards Jess. "You are completely out of my brother's league."

"And yours" You snorted.

Sam chuckled and Dean looked back at you, glaring.

"Let me go put something on" she said rolling her eyes and giving a small smile.

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." he said. You and Jess rolled our eyes at the same time. You loved Dean but he could be a an ass.

"Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here," he turned around and walked back to where Sam and you stood. "Talk about private family business, but nice meeting you," You folded my arms, Dean was making quite the impression. Jess gave a small smile and nodded.

"No," Sam said, walking across the room to Jess.

"Anything you want to say in front of me you can say in front of Jess," Sam added, wrapping an arm around Jess. You spoke up before Dean could say anything.

"Your dad hasn't been home in a few days" You said, making eye contact with Sam.

"So he's working overtime" Sam replied, clearly not understanding what you were trying to say. Dean spoke up before you could say anything else.

"Dads on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days,"

Sam's eyes immediately darkened.

"Jess excuse us." he said, not breaking eye contact with Dean.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam spoke as you all walked down the stairs.

"Hey, he did the same thing to me two hours earlier" You retaliated.

"Dads missing, I need help finding him Sammy," Dean said, looking back behind him at Sam and you.

"Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the devil's gates in Clifton? He was missing then too, he's always missing and he's always fine," Sam said. You were nearing the end of the staircase.

"He has a point Dean," You said. "He does this quite frequently." Of course you were going to go with Dean, just in case there was something wrong, even if everything was most likely okay. Besides, he had a bad feeling about it and you trusted Dean. Not only that but you had missed him a lot. Him and Sam were your bestfriends.

Dean reached the end of the wooden staircase and turned to you and Sam before speaking, "Never for this long, now are you two gonna come with me or not?"

"Of course I will dummy," You said, sending a small smile and roll of your eyes towards Dean. You walked down so you were standing beside him. Both of you turned your gaze to Sam.

"I'm not," Sam said, not changing his stance. "I swore I was done with hunting for good,"

You understood, Sam had always wanted a normal life, Dean, well Dean didn't always understand. You, well you were a hunter. You always would be. That didn't mean you didn't wonder what it would be like to live normally, or that you didn't want to.

"Come on, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't always bad," Dean said before turning and walking ahead. Sam and you shared a look before walking. "

"Speak for yourself," You muttered under your breath so only Sam could hear.

"Oh yeah? When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45," Sam said continuing to walk up to Dean, leaving you in the back. You were nearing a door that led out to the street.

"What was he supposed to do?" Dean said, turning to face Sam.

"I was nine, he was supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark," Sam replied looking back at Dean.

"Are you kidding me? You know what's out there, you should be afraid," Dean said in a defensive voice.

"Still, the way we grew up after mom was killed, and dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her, we still haven't found the damn thing! So we kill everything we can find,"

"We save a lot of people doing it though Sam," You spoke up, having both the brothers stare back at you.

"Exactly," Dean agreed, nodding his head, and looking back at Sam.

Sam scoffs and said, "you think mom would have wanted this for us? " Sam glared at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked out of the door with Sam and you following closely behind him.

"We were raised like warriors," Sam spoke up behind Dean, walking out on the dimly lit street.

"So what Sam? You wanna live the normal apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean said reaching the car and turning back to face Sam. You crossed your arms, shivering a bit with the cold. You pulled your jacket tighter around your body. You were getting tired of their bickering, both were too stubborn to see each other's views.

"Not normal, safe," Sam said, clenching his jaw.

"And that's why you ran away," Dean said matter of factly. You sighed audibly.

"I went to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone," Sam said. You noticed a pained expression on his face. You knew it wasn't easy for him. You talked on the phone frequently, letting each other know how everything was. You were close with both of them. You were twenty four years old so there was a two year difference between you and both of them.

"Dads, in real trouble, if he's not dead already," Dean replied back, looking Sam in the eye.

"That's enough Jesus Christ guys," You groaned, as both of the boys looked over at you.. "We've all seen and done shit normal people couldn't even dream of," You walked over to where Sam and Dean were standing by the trunk of the impala. "Dean, it's sam's choice whether or not he wants to come, just like it was his choice to go to college, not run away. Now stop arguing like idjits, you just saw each other for the first time in a while and you're already giving me a goddamn headache," You sighed and closed your eyes for a minute before opening them again. Both the boys stared back at me for a moment before Dean turned so he was looking at both Sam and you.

"I can't do this without you guys," he said, looking between the two of you.

"Yes you can." Sam said before you could respond, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah well I don't want to." Dean said, not looking at either of you. You knew Dean was a lot more worried then he was showing.

"I already told you, I'm in." You said, now turning your gaze to Sam.

Sam sighed, "What was he hunting?"

You smiled.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where the hell did I put that thing?" Dean said rummaging through all the weapons in the trunk. You stood on one side of him and Sam on the other.

"When John left why didn't you go with him?" You asked, staring at Dean as he continued looking throughout the trunk.

"I was working my own gig, a voodoo thing in New Orleans,"

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked with a surprised look on his face. You chuckled at his statement and at Deans reaction.

"I'm 26 dude." he said with an offended expression on his face.

You laughed again before focusing your attention to Dean pulling out papers from the trunk of the car.

"Dad was checking out a two lane black top just outside of Jericho, California." Dean said shuffling through the papers in his hand. "About a month ago, this guy, they found his car but he had vanished." He handed you papers and you started skimming through it.

"Maybe he was kidnapped?" You said, handing the papers to Sam.

"There was another one in april, '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean replied shuffling through the other papers, each with a man's face on them, before turning to look at you.

"All men," Sam said, handing the papers back to Dean.

"And all on the same 5- stretch mile of road." Dean replied. "They were happening more frequently, so dad went to dig around, that was three weeks ago," he looked at Sam and then at you. "I hadn't heard from him since, until yesterday," he said, pulling his phone from out of his pocket. He hit a button and you heard John's voice.

"Dean, something is starting to happen. I think it's serious. I need to try and figure out what's going on." Static covered whatever John was saying. "Be careful Dean. We're all in danger."

You frowned, before Sam spoke up, "you know there's evp on that?"

"Not bad sam," you glanced up at him, giving him a smile. He smiled back at you.

"All right," Dean said, pressing a couple buttons on his phone. "I slowed the message down and ran it through a goldwave, took out the hiss and this is what I got,"

"I can never go home" A woman's voice whispered.

"Never go home," You repeated looking between the two boys.

Dean nodded and shut the trunk, looking over at Sam. "You know in two years I haven't asked you for anything, I haven't bothered you." Dean said leaning against the trunk. You stood nearby. You were t nervous about John. It wasn't like him. You owed him your life and he was practically family.

"Please Sam?" You asked, puckering your lip a little. You weren't as good at the puppy dog look as Sam was but it sometimes worked.

He sighed looking at both Dean and you. Dean and you looked back.

"Fine I'll go, but I have to be back Monday,"

You smiled at Sam, and gave him a hug before he walked away, going off to pack and tell Jess.

"What's first thing monday?" Dean asked.

"His interview," You answered for Sam, smiling proudly, and looking at Dean as Sam turned around. Sam had told you about his interview over the phone a couple of weeks ago. You knew it was important to him, it determined his future and you were extremely proud.

Dean looked in between Sam and you. "A job interview? Skip it," You rolled your eyes at Dean's statement, as you seemed to be doing frequently today.

"It's a law school interview, it determines my future," Sam said exasperated.

"Law school?'' Dean clearly was not impressed.

"Do we have a Deal or not?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Law school?" Dean asked you. You were both leaning against the trunk of baby, Sam had gone inside to get his things.

"Yup, and I don't wanna hear you and him fighting over it," You replied.

"But why law-" Dean started before you interrupted.

"Not. A. Word." You replied giving Dean a fake flashy smile.

"Alright, alright" he responded, giving it up. "By the way were you working on a case when I showed up?"

"No actually, I had finished it the night before, it was a simple salt and burn but I decided to stay one more night," You said, You could see my breath in front of you.

"Why's that? " he asked looking at you.

"Just a feeling I guess," which was true, you planned on leaving the next morning but something made you feel like sticking around for a bit longer.

"Well I'm glad you stayed as long as you did, otherwise I wouldn't have known where you are and I would've had to go look for you,"

"Yup" you said, nodding in agreement.

"By the way, thank you."

"For what?" You were confused.

"For coming with me and helping me find me Dad,"

"Of course," You said smiling at Dean. You leaned your head against his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"I'd do anything for you," ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean and you were in the car listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Sam had just walked out the door, carrying a duffel bag. He opened the trunk, and put his bag in it, before getting in the back seat.

"By the way, I call shotgun," you said, sticking your tongue out in the rear view mirror.

He rolled his eyes before sending me a smile.

"Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

And you can do this, oh baby, if you try

All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied"

Dean stepped on the gas once again.

"I missed you boys"

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years ago

Text

Boston Boys [Part Twelve]

Summary: Chris’s birthday turns out more eventful than planned. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 2011 Chapter Warnings: Drinking, gun violence, mildly physical angry reaction. Square Filled: The entire series (well, bits and pieces of it) will fill my Crossover square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :) AN2: This story has been sitting at eighteen chapters in the doc for monthsssss but last night I busted out the last two chapters -- it is actually completed, and I’m super excited to continue sharing it with all of you!

Boston Boys Masterlist

“Here’s to Chris!” Seb yelled, climbing up on the bar and holding his beer over his head. “Not a single one of us jackasses would be where we are today if it weren’t for him!”

“Get off the bar, ya drunk bastard!” Chris yelled back, laughing heartily.

Seb laughed along as he continued. “He’s a friend and a brother to those of us who need it most. He keeps his head on straight, even when we pull him in a million directions, trying to keep us all in line. To the best friend I’ve ever had! Chris Evans, ladies and gentlemen!”

Everyone in Stan’s cheered -- except for Scarlett, who drank her beer and stayed where she was, seated at a booth close enough to seem like she was joining in the fun, but far enough away that she didn’t have to actually participate.

Seb climbed carefully down from the bar, shared a man-hug with Chris, then beelined for Scarlett. A smile broke through when she saw him coming over to her. She happily accepted the kiss he offered.

“Come on and join us, doll,” Seb beckoned. “You’re all the way over here, you’re missing the good stuff.”

“I’m good where I’m at.” She drank half the contents of the beer bottle in front of her, then shook her head. “I don’t get it, Seb. You were shot. Dying. Chris was nowhere to be found. He still won’t give you any answers about where he was. But you can stand here and celebrate him?”

Seb frowned. “He’s my brother, Scar. Doesn’t matter where he was, only that he showed up as soon as he could. Whatever he was doing didn’t hurt any of us so --”

“How do you know that?” Scarlett argued.

“How do I know what?”

“That he wasn’t doing anything to hurt any of us.”

Seb let out a breath. “Listen to me. I wanna be with you, but whatever you’ve got against Chris is going to make that really difficult if it keeps up. So, why don’t you tell me something real, huh? What’s the big deal?”

Scarlett stared up at him, her jaw slack. When she couldn’t think of anything else to say to argue, she swallowed down what was left of her beer and pushed out of the booth.

“Why bother, Seb? He’s your brother and clearly can’t do anything wrong.”

Seb made to grab for her arm, but Scarlett turned on him with such an angry look, he wasn’t sure she would ever let him touch her again.

Chris chugged back yet another shot, thinking how upset Elsa was going to be when he arrived in New York hungover the next day. Maybe if he could shut it down sometime soon, it wouldn’t be so bad by the time he met her family. Saying no to all the people wanting to buy him shots wasn’t easy to do, but they would just have to understand. Things were different now.

Seb came to sit on the barstool next to him, immediately flagging down the bartender. Chris smirked and accepted one last beer.

“Problems on the homefront?”

“Eh,” Seb waved him off. “She’s pissed off and I’m not sure even she knows why. Women.”

“Yeah, women,” Chris echoed. He cleared his throat and looked around. “Seb, when you guys met Elsa the other day, you didn’t think anything was weird about me and her being together?”

Seb shrugged. “Nah, why? Something I shoulda picked up? Yeah, she’s clearly outta your league, but what chick isn’t.”

Chris laughed and shoved his friend. “If I told you -- you know what, nevermind.”

“C’mon, man. What’s up?” Seb prodded.

Chris shook his head. “Not tonight. When I come back, all right?”

“Sure, whatever you say. Takin’ off, then?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, it’s time. I’m not really packed yet and if I don’t start warding off the hangover now, I’ll be a mess meeting her family tomorrow.”

They stood from the barstools and exchanged another man-hug. Amidst protests from Seb, he dropped a couple of bills on the counter, then made out of the bar to walk home.

Still reeling from John’s proposal and the information they had traded over supper, Aurelie was quiet as they left the diner and went back to his car. He opened the door for her, then closed it again quickly. Aurelie raised her brow at him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “but what if we found a place to crash here in Attleboro tonight? Just leave the shit in Boston for a while and be happy.”

Aurelie smiled and agreed that was an excellent idea. They got in the car and John searched out a hotel or bed-and-breakfast still taking reservations. Aurelie took out her phone; only one text was waiting for her, from a number she didn’t recognize, from over thirty minutes ago.

Your brother goes down tonight. Say your goodbyes while you can.

Her heart stopped. She went into panic mode, trying to think of where Chris would be. She called Stan’s; Chris was still there. If they could get back to Boston fast enough, maybe she could get Chris to protect himself. She called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail. She left a frantic voicemail, then begged John to go back to Boston.

“What? Aurelie, what’s going on?”

She showed him the text message. “I know you and Chris have this feuding families thing, but he’s my brother, Johnny. Please.”

John only had to think about it for a split second before he hit the accelerator and spun tires getting out of the diner parking lot.

The weather was beautiful, so Chris took the long way home. His new place was still within walking distance of everything, even if it was a little further than the old place. With the Red Sox game playing from an app on his phone and a cigarette in his hand, he was going to enjoy this little jaunt.

But it took less than half an inning to catch notice of the car that was trailing him. Chris’s walk became even longer as he avoided heading towards his new place. Whoever was behind him, he didn’t want them to know where he was living now, not when he could put his own life in danger that way. Not when he could put Elsa’s life in danger that way.

The first shot that rang out hit a brick building Chris was walking past. He felt the pieces that shattered and flew away from the building and towards him. He shoved his phone in his pocket and took off running; one of the few nights he chose to leave his protection at home and now here he was.

He ducked into the same alleyway that he and Sebastian had hidden in once after stealing candy bars from the corner shop, but the alleyway was more of a back road and it certainly wasn’t a dead end, so the car followed him, still firing off shots but missing. Whoever was behind him was either sending a warning or hoping for the best.

In the same moment he had that thought, the next bullet grazed into his shoulder. Chris groaned and gripped the joint, his hand coming away covered in bright red. At the next intersection, with the car gaining on him, he looked both ways, trying to decide where to go. Where could he go?

Another shot rang out, narrowly missing him. Chris decided going to the left would be his best bet, but an SUV squealed to a stop in front of him.

“Get in!”

Glancing between the car behind him and John Krasinski, of all people, in front of him, Chris tried to weigh his options as quickly as possible.

“Chris, get in, damn it!” Aurelie shouted from the passenger seat. He hadn’t even seen her there until she yelled at him.

With his sister in the car, Chris wasn’t second guessing anything anymore. He opened the back driver’s side door and slid onto the leather seat. He slammed the door closed behind him, and John sped off into the night.

At Aurelie’s house, the three of them busied about locking the doors and windows and pulling every curtain shut. When the house was as secure as it could possibly be, Chris and John, unintentionally, both pulled out their guns to make sure the safety was off and there was already a bullet in the chamber, ready to be fired. Aurelie disappeared momentarily and came back with a small handgun of her own. The two men stared at her.

“What? Even as distanced as I am from my family, I figured a little protection never hurt, then I started dating Johnny and --”

“You started what?” Chris interrupted.

Aurelie licked her lips and exchanged a glance with John. “I should have told you sooner, but that night I asked you about John -- he had come into the hospital to be treated. He came back a few nights later, to ask me out.”

Chris turned to John, putting a gun in the other man’s face. “Did you know she was my sister?”

“Not at first,” John replied, shaking his head and remaining calm. “But she told me really early on, and by then, man, I was already gone.”

Dropping the gun, Chris turned back to his sister. He set his weapon on the table and shook his head.

“The hell are you thinking, Aurelie? Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in?” He stepped toe-to-toe with her. John stepped up too, but Aurelie gave him a low wave -- a motion to stand down.

“Not any more danger than I am being your sister, Chris. We’ve only been out in Boston together a few times and when that seemed too sketchy, we started only being out together in Attleboro. Other than that, we’re here or at John’s.”

Chris was too angry; without thinking, he took her by the shoulders and asked if she had truly given this any thought at all. “He’s probably only after you to get to me! But I’m sure that never occurred to you. You know some things, but you don’t know all of them. You’ve been distanced long enough ...”

The longer Chris spoke, the harder his grip on Aurelie became. He shook her, emphasizing his words, ignoring her attempts to wrench out of his hold. When he finally had pushed things far enough to push her against a wall, John had enough. He pulled Chris away from Aurelie and shoved the other man across the room.

“Are you all right?” John asked softly, turning his back to Chris. He had no desire to fight that man or pursue further any sort of violence between the two of them. He only wanted Aurelie safe.

Chris took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, knowing that he had crossed a line. When he turned to apologize to Aurelie, he noted the gentle way John caressed his sister’s face with one hand, and sprawled the fingers of the other over her abdomen.

“Aurelie?”

She looked at John once more, then to Chris. The look on his face told her immediately what her brother suspected.

“I’m pregnant. Not far along, I just found out. Just told John earlier tonight, actually.”

John held tight to Aurelie’s hand. “I’m not with her because of you. I could honestly care less about all of that shit anymore. I’ve wanted things to change for a while, but now, I have to change them. For her, and for the baby.”

Chris stared at both of them for a long time before shaking his head. “Thanks for the ride. I’ve gotta go.”

“Chris, wait!” Aurelie yelled after him, slipping in front of him at the door. “It isn’t safe out there for you! I’ll remind you, this is how we all ended up back here in the first place.”

Chris sidestepped around her, making it out to the front stoop. “I’ll figure it out,” he yelled over his shoulder, then slammed the door behind him.

AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin@horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved@fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl

Boston Boys: @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @becs-bunker @shield-agent78 @patzammit @crazyandanonymous4u@ntlmundy @jennmurawski13 @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #chris evans #john krasinski #crossover #fanfiction #criminal!au #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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lovingthereign25 · 5 years ago

Text

The Chase.

CH1

Roman held you tight as the two of you danced. You were at your parents' anniversary party, they were celebrating 40 years of marriage.

"You think we'll be that happy in forty years?" You ask Roman.

"I know we will baby" he smiles pecking your lips

He brings you closer to him holding your body tight to his as you continue to slow dance.

"Do you remember when we first met? And how long it took you to agree to go out with me?" Roman asks with a smile

"Yes, and you never did take no for an answer, but I'm glad you didn't" you smile back wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Me too babe, 7 years and 2 kids later and I couldn't be more in love with you if I tried" he says

2012

You were backstage lacing up your boots with Nikki who was out with an injury. You mad a match against Aj Lee. That's when he noticed you. The way your air laid so perfect, your gorgeous smile, your contagious laugh, the way your perfectly plump butt was poked out as you tied up one of your boots.

"Hey, there you are, you ready for our big debut?" Seth asked patting Roman's back shaking him from all the thoughts he was having of you.

"Y-yeah, I'm ready!" He said keeping his eyes on you

"Keep dreaming brother, she's way outta our league" Dean jumps in

"Shut up, come let's go get ready" Roman says pushing Dean playfully

The next night on Raw, he saw you again in catering you looked even better to him today than you did last night he knew he was staring but he couldn't help it.

"Hey, Uce how's it feel being on the main roster?" Jey asked

"Oh damn hey, it feels good, hard work paying off" he says

"Checking out some female talent?" Jimmy chimes in

"Hah, that obvious?" Roman asked

"Nah, but the drool might give you away" Jey laughs

"Forget it uce, she's friends with Trin, just got out of a six year relationship dude cheated , she sworn off men for a while " Jimmy says

"Oh yeah?" Roman asks " Give it some time, mark my words, I'm gonna make her mine!" He smirks

You sat in catering with Nikki and Trin two of your closest friends on the roster, Nikki and Brie were definitely your best friends you three grew up in this business together.

"That's one of those new guys isn't it?" Nikki asked looking over to where Roman was seated with the Usos.

"I think so" you say

"Yeah, that's Roman he's Jimmy and Jey cousin" Trin smiles

"He's really good looking. Like damn!" Nikki says

"Down girl, umm what about John?" You laugh

"I know, I can look but not touch" she giggled.

"There's something really wrong with you" you laugh

"Oh come on, tell me he isn't hot, that long hair, those lips" she says

"He's alright" you say.

Present Day

Roman was off talking with your dad. As you sat thinking how happy Roman has made you, all you ever wanted was a man that truly loved you , a man you could grow old with, start a family with. Roman was that man and so much more.

"Whatta say we get outta here and get home to our babies"he says when he comes back to the table

"I was thinking that very same thing" you smile.

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfiction #the chase

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lullabieswrappedinlies · 4 years ago

Text

Boston Boys [Part Twelve]

Summary: Chris’s birthday turns out more eventful than planned. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 2011 Chapter Warnings: Drinking, gun violence, mildly physical angry reaction. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :) AN2: This story has been sitting at eighteen chapters in the doc for monthsssss but last night I busted out the last two chapters -- it is actually completed, and I’m super excited to continue sharing it with all of you!

Boston Boys Masterlist

“Here’s to Chris!” Seb yelled, climbing up on the bar and holding his beer over his head. “Not a single one of us jackasses would be where we are today if it weren’t for him!”

“Get off the bar, ya drunk bastard!” Chris yelled back, laughing heartily.

Seb climbed carefully down from the bar, shared a man-hug with Chris, then beelined for Scarlett. A smile broke through when she saw him coming over to her. She happily accepted the kiss he offered.

“Come on and join us, doll,” Seb beckoned. “You’re all the way over here, you’re missing the good stuff.”

Seb frowned. “He’s my brother, Scar. Doesn’t matter where he was, only that he showed up as soon as he could. Whatever he was doing didn’t hurt any of us so --”

“How do you know that?” Scarlett argued.

“How do I know what?”

“That he wasn’t doing anything to hurt any of us.”

Scarlett stared up at him, her jaw slack. When she couldn’t think of anything else to say to argue, she swallowed down what was left of her beer and pushed out of the booth.

“Why bother, Seb? He’s your brother and clearly can’t do anything wrong.”

Seb made to grab for her arm, but Scarlett turned on him with such an angry look, he wasn’t sure she would ever let him touch her again.

Seb came to sit on the barstool next to him, immediately flagging down the bartender. Chris smirked and accepted one last beer.

“Problems on the homefront?”

“Eh,” Seb waved him off. “She’s pissed off and I’m not sure even she knows why. Women.”

“Yeah, women,” Chris echoed. He cleared his throat and looked around. “Seb, when you guys met Elsa the other day, you didn’t think anything was weird about me and her being together?”

Seb shrugged. “Nah, why? Something I shoulda picked up? Yeah, she’s clearly outta your league, but what chick isn’t.”

Chris laughed and shoved his friend. “If I told you -- you know what, nevermind.”

“C’mon, man. What’s up?” Seb prodded.

Chris shook his head. “Not tonight. When I come back, all right?”

“Sure, whatever you say. Takin’ off, then?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, it’s time. I’m not really packed yet and if I don’t start warding off the hangover now, I’ll be a mess meeting her family tomorrow.”

They stood from the barstools and exchanged another man-hug. Amidst protests from Seb, he dropped a couple of bills on the counter, then made out of the bar to walk home.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “but what if we found a place to crash here in Attleboro tonight? Just leave the shit in Boston for a while and be happy.”

Your brother goes down tonight. Say your goodbyes while you can.

“What? Aurelie, what’s going on?”

She showed him the text message. “I know you and Chris have this feuding families thing, but he’s my brother, Johnny. Please.”

John only had to think about it for a split second before he hit the accelerator and spun tires getting out of the diner parking lot.

Another shot rang out, narrowly missing him. Chris decided going to the left would be his best bet, but an SUV squealed to a stop in front of him.

“Get in!”

Glancing between the car behind him and John Krasinski, of all people, in front of him, Chris tried to weigh his options as quickly as possible.

“Chris, get in, damn it!” Aurelie shouted from the passenger seat. He hadn’t even seen her there until she yelled at him.

“What? Even as distanced as I am from my family, I figured a little protection never hurt, then I started dating Johnny and --”

“You started what?” Chris interrupted.

Chris turned to John, putting a gun in the other man’s face. “Did you know she was my sister?”

“Not at first,” John replied, shaking his head and remaining calm. “But she told me really early on, and by then, man, I was already gone.”

Dropping the gun, Chris turned back to his sister. He set his weapon on the table and shook his head.

“Are you all right?” John asked softly, turning his back to Chris. He had no desire to fight that man or pursue further any sort of violence between the two of them. He only wanted Aurelie safe.

“Aurelie?”

She looked at John once more, then to Chris. The look on his face told her immediately what her brother suspected.

“I’m pregnant. Not far along, I just found out. Just told John earlier tonight, actually.”

Chris stared at both of them for a long time before shaking his head. “Thanks for the ride. I’ve gotta go.”

Chris sidestepped around her, making it out to the front stoop. “I’ll figure it out,” he yelled over his shoulder, then slammed the door behind him.

Tags: @themtbmbgirl @keithseabrook27 @ulovemelightsout @rosie2801 @professorkrasinski

#john krasinski #chris evans #fanfiction #crossover #criminal!au #absolutely i queue

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gcttis · 5 years ago

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NAME : Dominica Benedetta Lombardi Gotti

NICKNAMES : Dom, Nicky, Dommi, Nica, Bennie

AGE : Thirty-four

BIRTH DATE : October 24th

HOMETOWN : Las Vegas, Nevada

ZODIAC : Scorpio

AFFILIATION : Unaffiliated ( reapers )

JOB : ER surgeon

SEXUALITY : Bisexual

STATUS : Single

RELIGION : Agnostic

RECORD : Assault ( expunged )

POSITIVES : Intelligent, adaptable, charming, witty, compassionate, understanding, loyal

NEGATIVES : Petty, impatient, vindictive, cunning, easily annoyed, untrusting, reactive

INSPIRED BY : Veronica Mars, Madeleine Martha Mackenzie, Jessica Jones, Princess Leia Organa, Cristina Yang, Kat Stratford, Sally Owens

ah miss gotti miss gotti of gotti autobody

dominica gotti was born to tank and a young woman named joan yeager. they met, they had a wild night of passionate sex, they went their separate ways — what happens in vegas is meant to stay in vegas right??

wrong. joan was pregnant and pissed as hell. a child was really gonna put a damper on her wild partying ways of her early twenties. she spent three weeks searching for who the hell the big man that had gotten her pregnant was and upon discovering he was a prominent member in one of the fastest growing one percenter club in the country, she figured a little girl would be more than taken care of by them

she had the beautiful raven haired girl and, without even giving her a proper name, called tank to come fetch her from las vegas. he signed the birth certificate and joan signed over all her parental rights. he named her, his first born girl, after his mother, rest her soul.

back in texas, dom grew up in the mc. she only ever knew life as a reaper. though she never wanted to be a member, she always figured she’d marry a club member and remain an integral part of it all

she excelled in school and in sports, loving baseball from a very early age & fighting for her spot on the local boys’ league. it probably helped that her father was who he was but she had a powerful ass swing okay?

tank truly appreciated that his daughter was a little tomboy, always obsessed with sports and bikes more than she was with dolls and frills. the wives of the other members helped take care of her as well, doing her hair or helping her buy school clothes but she was a daddy’s girl and a true lover of all things badass, right down to her favorite song, welcome to the jungle. no seriously, it’s all she ever listened to for like, two years

that came to change in middle school when dom started growing into her body and her looks. she learned how to do makeup, wore crop tops & low rise jeans and though she loved her converse, it was no coincidence that they matched so perfectly with her mini skirt

she started to party a little harder in high school, though at the height of her partying days, her uncle snake was killed and that broke her little heart. it was then that she realized just how dangerous this mc life was

now she was never ignorant to the life and it’s dangers but this was the first time she saw it up close and it scared the shit outta her. enough to make her rethink her direct involvement with the club — enough to make her want to leave stratford.

there was a little incident there where she got into a spot of trouble, ol’ baseball bat to a guy’s head but a really expensive lawyer got her off with two months of community service and her record eventually was completely expunged

she studied her ass off and landed a spot at stanford, with her dad offering to pay full price. while there, she shed her thick southern accent in favor of regular american one, one that wouldn’t make her stand out. she partied, she studied, and she got herself into john hopkins, all with the full intentions of heading to boston general for her residency.

and to be fair, that was the goal until her father broke his leg a couple years and she returned to help care for him. she realized just how homesick she’d been and as much as she loved the big city, she missed stratford even more

so she finished off her internship at boston general then headed to stratford to start her residency at the county hospital in the er.

she still holds the club in high regard but there’s a level of worry there now that wasn’t there before. whenever they have trouble and need medical attention, she’s only one call away but she’ll never stop worrying about them or her family, blood & biker.

fun facts! has her own little house that she rents, has a cute little rottweiler named weevil, drives a big ass ford f150, her accent still slips out every once in a while esp when she’s overly emotional ( happy, angry, sad, etc ), her dad gifted her with a portion of ownership of the shop for her eighteenth birthday so she gets money from it as well, her favorite drink is beer, she knows how to ride but doesn’t do it often at all, has been home for a year now

#rideintro.

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fictionz · 5 years ago

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New Fiction 2020 - January

"Evolution Never Sleeps" by Elisabeth Malartre (1999)

This is dumb but I’ll just mention it here because the next two sci-fi stories also do it: ya don’t gotta throw sex into your story. Of course, yes, it is an important aspect of relationships, and it can absolutely play a role if you want it to, but the sex scenes are almost like, “she breasted boobily down the stairs.” This is in the middle of otherwise fine short stories. That said, this first one by Malartre has that non-ending that I love about so much modern short fiction. Like, nothing is resolved. There’s just an introduction of characters, a possibility of some freaky critter behavior, and that’s it.

"Sexual Dimorphism" by Kim Stanley Robinson (1999)

The writing in this one gets a lot better, and weirder, with some breastily boobing along the way, and I was sure there’d be some aquatic bestiality but the author chose to leave that to the imagination.

"Game of the Century" by Robert Reed (1999)

Maybe this is fucked up, but remember Mutant League Football? God, what a stupid game with stupid gore and stupid fun violence. This story explores stuff about gene manipulation and mutants, and now I wonder if those players in the Mutant League had a choice in the matter. It’s possible they didn’t want to lunge headfirst into their opponents and cause them to explode, or decapitate the referee, but you as the player gave them no choice. Oh and this story definitely featured some bestiality.

"In a Tub" by Amy Hempel (1985)

I... barely remember it. Some short fiction is like poetry and requires multiple passes to absorb its intent, but I failed to do that. A woman’s in a tub, that I know for sure.

"Tonight Is a Favor to Holly" by Amy Hempel (1985)

You can catch a shuttle bus that’ll take you from the airport in San Jose to the Monterey Regional Airport. It has a nice little bar and restaurant, and a great view around sunset. On the way there, you’ll pass through a sandy little community with a name I can’t remember. This story took me right to that place. What’s it like, living in the lazy sand towns? I bet it’s gritty all the time.

"Celia Is Back" by Amy Hempel (1985)

A father and his children travel through conceptual time in the span of a few pages. They grow up and distant, he grows older and wanders.

"The Glitch" by Rebekah Frumkin (2013)

Fuck, two forgotten two stories in a month? I’m pathetic. Oh! This is the one about the guy who goes by EDJ... I promise I’ll re-read it. (I will not.)

"John Starks" by Salvatore Pane (2012)

This one stuck because it’s so bizarre that I had to tell a friend who’s into basketball about it, then send him a link to the story. It’s about getting old and obsessive, two things way in my thought corral.

"The Jon Lennin Xperience" by Rachel B. Glaser (2010)

Here we are, my first Black Mirror callout of the year. This is definitely the same vibe as that “Fighting Vipers” episode. I’m starting to look forward to that good VR, honestly. Just that visceral, damn this-is-too-real virtual experience. It was some science fiction magazine in the 90s and its comic strip about lame adults masturbating to virtual nudes with stimulation attachments that planted the idea in my head. As a young man I would’ve balked, but now it’s clear as crystal.

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order dev. Respawn Entertainment (2019)

I blazed through this in 2 weekends, and with 100% completion to boot. The corridors they use for worlds feel nice and dense, and the production values are hecka high. The Second Sister is definitely my favorite villain, even though I hate liking these damn Star Wars murderers. (You, as the player, murder so many people across half a dozen planets.) It’s good and quite fun, though I tire of the Jedi. Maybe Kylo Ren was right. (Fuck no, glad that guy’s outta here.)

Michael Clayton dir. Tony Gilroy (2007)

This movie meanders at just the right pace. I wish I could figure out the course of a good mystery. I might read a mystery novel or seven, really get a sense for it. The mystery here is also the kind where you think, oh yeah, this kinda shit is happening all the time but I’d never notice.

Little Women dir. Greta Gerwig (2019)

I like the ambiguity around the course of events. I mean, you know the story, I know the story, we’re all here for Jo. But right at the end, after you’re good with the journey, Gerwig pulls a rug out from under you. Just a small one, nothing catastrophic against the source material, but just enough to plant a seed of doubt.

Gargoyles - Seasons 2 & 3 (1995-1997)

Okay, this bestiality thing may be something I have to contend with in my brain, but this show is basically Beauty and the Beast plus Batman so there’s no way around it. And I’m talking about that CBS Beauty and the Beast that takes place in New York City. You know, Linda Hamilton and Ron Perlman. Anyway, Disney did a great job with this show. The characters and their histories are deftly and intricately woven into Shakespearean magical nonsense that reminds me of that good Neil Gaiman from those first sets of Sandman trade paperbacks. It’s an enjoyable show in the first two seasons, and the second season is so long that it may as well have been split into a second and third season. The actual third season drops the ball and leans more into content for kids, but it doesn’t mar the experience of the rest of the series. There are comics that continue the story as if season 3 never existed, and the story’s apparently much better, but those comics are also hundreds and hundreds of dollars each, so... I’m content to read the wiki.

#Elisabeth Malartre #Kim Stanley Robinson #robert reed #Amy Hempel #Rebekah Frumkin #Salvatore Pane #rachel b. glaser #star wars jedi: fallen order #Michael Clayton #Little Women #gargoyles #new fiction

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ma-sulevin · 5 years ago

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Duct Tape Fixes Everything

Except marriages and broken hearts.

Rook asks Sharky what he means.

Rating: M (for swearing/drinking/smoking). Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy (pre-relationship). Words: 2,187.

Also on AO3.

---

“Who broke your heart, Sharky?”

His mind skitters at the question, the sudden change of subject, searching for words but coming up surprisingly blank. He just stares at her instead, mouth hanging open a bit in his confusion.

She grins at him over the top of her beer, the expression a little lopsided, and tries again. “You said something earlier about how duct tape fixes everything but broken hearts and marriages, so I thought maybe you were talking from experience. You been married before?”

“Uhh.” He blinks one more time at her as she sips her drink before his mind kickstarts again. “You know, sometimes things come out of my mouth before I’ve really had a chance to think about whether I wanna say it or not, and, uh, you know, most people don’t really listen to shit like that.”

“I listen to everything you say,” she says, and he absolutely does not blush when she adds, “that’s part of being best friends, dude. Get with it. Now tell me who broke your heart so I know whose ass to kick.”

He laughs and she beams at him, her teeth flashing in the flickering light from their fire. She settles more comfortably in her folding chair, kicking her bare feet up into his lap; he wraps the fingers of his free hand around one, just out of habit, and digs his thumb into the sole just to hear the little grunt of satisfaction she’ll make.

“You sure you wanna hear that whole story?” He asks, uneasy at bringing up memories of old girlfriends in front of her.

She quirks an eyebrow and wiggles her toes to get him to massage harder. “Shark, you told me about the first time you felt up a girl, accidentally burned down the skating rink in an attempt to cheer yourself up, and then got a boner. At the, uh, fire, not the girl.”

“Oh, yeah, heh, forgot I told you all that. You really do listen to all the stuff I say, huh? You don’t ever just zone out and ignore some of my stories, ‘cause that’s usually how it goes. WIth other people I mean. They don’t listen.” He does massage harder. He even puts his beer down so he can use both hands.

“Come on,” she says, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as he digs his thumbs into the ball of her foot. It might be nice if she did this back from time to time, but he can’t blame her for not wanting to touch his feet. He can acknowledge they get pretty rank by the end of the day, even when they have time to take showers and sleep in real beds, like tonight. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

He focuses on her foot for a second, trying to gather his thoughts before he starts babbling, then he starts babbling anyway: “I mean, I already told you about the girl at the skating rink, and that was my first real disappointment, you know, but then I found out how much I love fire, so that made up for it--” she snickers; he presses on-- “and then, uh, I had a string of good luck until after I dropped out of high school, you know how I am, and then I met this waitress over at the 8-bit, and she was, she was real pretty.” He pauses again, takes another gulp of his beer and then moves to her other foot. “Her name was Shelly. She used to bring me leftover pizzas sometimes. They were delicious as long as she wasn’t the one who made them.”

She laughs again, and he smiles at the sound. “She sounds like a real catch.”

“She was,” he says. “And, I mean, I know I’m a helluva catch, what with the kickass flamethrower and the good looks and the endless beer and everything, but she was absolutely way outta my league. Like, she was smokin’ hot. She could’a been in one of those music videos, you know.”

She nods without opening her eyes. “All flossy?”

“Flossy as hell,” he confirms. “Anyway, we were hanging out and having fun, and I thought it was going good. I thought I was in love with her, man, I mean, she was so hot, she had real soft red hair and these real big--” He cuts himself off. He was gonna say she had real big tits, but since Mattie’s eyes are still closed he’s able to have a moment of uninterrupted study of what she’s working with under that shirt buttoned up high enough to cover that goddamned WRATH tattoo, and, yeah, they’re not as big as Shelly's and he doesn’t want her to feel bad even though he prefers hers anyways, and--

She’s giggling. Shit, he waited too long to finish his sentence, and she figured out what he was talking about. She opens her eyes just after he rips his away from her chest, so at least she didn’t catch him staring. (Again.)

“Okay, you made your point. She’s the hottest girl you’d ever met, maybe because of her boobs, maybe because of the free pizza.” She tilts her head back and downs the rest of her beer while she waits for him to finish the story, and he drags in a deep breath so he can get the rest out without pausing.

“So, I hadn’t asked her to move in with met yet, but I was thinkin’ about it, and she had a key to Boshaw Manor and everything, but she just hadn’t brought all her stuff over yet or anything, and I came home one day and caught her fuckin’ another guy in my bed.”

Mattie’s feet are jerked out of his hands as she sits up, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She’s glaring. It’s the same look he’s seen her make when John or Jacob calls her over the radio, and he’s suddenly afraid he’s said the wrong thing and pissed her off for good this time.

“In your bed?”

“Yeah.” Jesus, he can still remember every detail of that day, exactly how she looked with her face all pink and her hair messed up and sweaty, tits still bouncing because it took her a couple seconds to realize was there and actually stop fuckin’ the dude, who, at least, seemed to feel guilty about it, throwing a heartfelt sorry man over his shoulder as he gathered his pants and shirt and ran naked from the room while Shelly just pouted.

Mattie makes a considering noise, then twists around until she can reach the cooler with the rest of their beers. She offers him one, and he takes it even though he hasn’t quite finished his first. He downs what he has left, then opens the one she handed him.

“That’s fucked up, Shark,” she says, and he chuckles around his drink.

“That’s what I said.” And, yeah, that’s one of the things he said, probably the only one that bears repeating. He clutches the beer can a little tighter, ignoring the condensation wetting his fingers, wishing she’d put her feet back in his lap or something so he can the warmth of her again, the comfort that doesn’t stop him from saying everything that pops into his head but makes him feel better for the touch. How long has it been since someone just… was willing to sit, touching?

Oh, god. He hopes she doesn’t think he has a foot fetish, or something, the way he’s always grabbing for her feet when they’re close. She hasn’t said anything about it, and she seems to like the massages, but, like, that’s not really his thing. Not that he minds it, but it’s not really toes that get him going.

“She still around?”

“Nah. I don’t know if she left town, or joined up with the cult, or what. Haven’t seen her in years.”

Almost like she can hear what he was thinking -- not the foot fetish bit, the other thing -- she relaxes again and puts her feet back in his lap. He doesn’t start the massage up again, but she doesn’t seem to mind that either.

“Well, she sounds like a cunt anyway,” she says, and he laughs again, a real belly laugh.

“You are not wrong there, shorty.” He manages to let a short silence pass before he asks one of the two questions burning his throat. “Why, would you really kick her ass for me?”

Mattie’s face is serious, and she waits to fish a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her jacket pocket. She sticks one between her lips and asks around it, “Don’t you think I could take her?”

“Hell yeah, you could,” he answers, honest, immediate, and she smirks the best she can while she’s lighting her cigarette. Her eyes flash at the same time as the little flame in her hand, then she’s exhaling a cloud into the sky, head tipped back, and he stares at her throat.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for Big Tits McGee next time we see a group of Peggies.” Her voice is dripping in disgust and he can’t help but laugh again. “Probably has LUST carved right on her forehead.” She takes another drag off her cigarette and idly rubs at her breastbone. After a half-second, she seems to shake herself out of it and nudges him with her heel against his knee. “Sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugs, drinks more of his beer, tries to find something to say that’s not embarrassing. “Yeah, well. What’s your story then? I told you mine, and fair’s fair.”

She shrugs too, her cigarette dangling from the fingers of her right hand. “I didn’t even have a boyfriend until I was nineteen,” she says, and that’s not what he expected her to say, even a little bit. “I’d just finished my EMT training, had a job in Custer County, and I was still living at home and all, but it was my first time with any real freedom of my own. One of the other EMTs and I started hanging out a lot after our shifts, talking a lot, you know how it goes. We started dating, and I just took it a lot more serious than he did, I guess, because he was my first, uhh… everything, really. Anyway, things went sour and that’s that.”

He stares at her. She doesn’t look back.

“That’s that, huh?” She grimaces when he feeds her words back to her. When she doesn’t offer more details, he just starts guessing random shit that could break a girl’s heart for the first time at the ripe old age of nineteen. “He cheat on you? With another EMT? A patient? Turn out to be gay? Never made you cum and say it was your fault?” She chokes on her beer when he says that one, nearly spits it out, and then she’s laughing again and something in his chest eases a bit. “Cried after y’all fucked? Fell asleep on you?”

She kicks him again. “You think I’m such a boring lay that someone’d fall asleep on me?”

He’s not blushing. He isn’t. He's definitely never thought about it before. “Nah, just trying to get to the bottom of it.”

She rolls her eyes at him, sort of chuckles and shakes her head while he just grins and waits. “It wasn’t anything all that dramatic,” she says finally. He watches as she flicks the ash off the end of her cigarette, takes another drag. “Just lots of fighting, name calling, couple’a holes punched in the wall of his apartment. Duct tape doesn’t quite fix that either, but it’s better than nothing. He kicked me out and then acted all surprised when I moved in with another friend and wouldn’t take his calls.”

“Sounds like an asshole,” Sharky offers, and she laughs a little. It’s warm again, not bitter, and she tosses the butt of her cigarette into the fire.

“Yup. Looks like we’re both better off now, huh?” She nudges him with her foot again, smiling but not looking at him, studying the stars overhead instead. She always does that; while he’s busy admiring the flames of the closest fire (camp, bon, or on the end of a match), she’s busy staring up at the sky like she can just disappear into it if she tries hard enough.

“Yeah, I mean, if that dickwad hadn’t punched holes in his own walls, I wouldn’t’ve met my best friend,” he says, giving in and resting his hand on her ankle, just because he wants to touch her again.

She flexes her toes and smiles doesn’t pull away. “That’s a good way to look at it,” she says, lips still curled up at the edges as her eyes start to close. “Guess this is all worth it.”

And, well, maybe he wouldn’t go quite that far, a lot of people have died and all, but… yeah. Yeah. He can’t bring himself to disagree, either.

#sharky boshaw #female deputy #sharky x deputy #far cry 5 #my writing #not da

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acklest · 6 years ago

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Jensen Ackles, AU!Michael!Dean, 14x10: Nihilism (and rambling about “range”)

Jensen was so fucking good, don’t even touch me right now, don’t even look at me. I mean, he’s always good, but with this episode, he kicked it in the ASS.

I don’t feel like I have enough WORDS for it. Behind a cut while I prattle on. (None of the gifs used as examples are mine.)

I watched the episode multiple times to see what Jensen was doing as Michael that so wasn’t Dean Winchester, because he was so fascinatingly NOT Dean. I know there are certain style choices that lend themselves to the differences, like his hair being parted on the other (wrong) side and the painstakingly dapper suits and the newsboy cap. Dean Smith (4x17: It’s a Terrible Life) had his hair parted on the wrong side, too. It’s some easy shorthand for “hey, something about this isn’t quite right.” (Like the French cuffs didn’t give it away.)

Demon!Dean was just Dean without the moral center. He was fun to watch, don’t get me wrong, for the brief time we got him. MoC!Dean was actually closer to what I thought Demon!Dean was going to be, so I enjoyed him more. Watching MoC!Dean massacre the Stynes was epic and so satisfying (and tragic I know because of the kid, I’m not like yay murder). As much as I love the real Sam and Dean, and I’m always happy when they get back to who they really are, these dark side digressions are so much fun because we get to see Jared and Jensen show off.

But there’s more to it than that. Jensen has said that his approach to each new script is instinctive (reads the script once or twice and decides what he’s going to do) and Jared is intellectual (reads it multiple times to feel like he’s really soaked it in). But here, I feel, Jensen has made some very deliberate choices.

First, A Tangent: I watch different Dark Angel vids on Youtube and there’s usually a comment somewhere about how Alec and Dean are basically the same character, or Alec is Young!Dean. They don’t (always) come right out and say, “He can only convincingly play Dean-like characters”, but the implication is there. The two characters have some superficial traits in common, like sarcasm, physical comedy, Jensen’s face (can’t be helped). But even his face doesn’t really come into it once you hit the latter half of S1 because Jensen’s face changed a lot in the interim. His jaw got stronger, his face got broader. So I watched an episode of Dark Angel and immediately watched an episode of Supernatural (1x3: Dead in the Water). @deanscarlett helped me figure this out: Alec is out for out for himself, Dean was always out for anything but himself (except when it comes to pleasure-seeking, when he even allows it). Alec has his own psychological trauma (2x11: The Berrisford Agenda) which adds facets to his character’s mercenary pursuits, but once he locks down that perceived weakness (”I’m always alright”), you don’t really see him break down like that again. His programming is strong; he just buries it. But it serves a purpose: Max had written him off as a loss after she saved his life at the expense of not getting a cure to the virus (2x3: Proof of Purchase). It showed her that he wasn’t just a “happy-go-lucky sociopath”, that he had a story like everyone else, and that meant he deserved a shot at redemption. Alec was relatively unburdened (I mean... genetically enhanced master assassin... star torturer in HELL... Dean wins this round, I think) compared to Dean, who’s had ever-increasing weight on his shoulders since “Take your brother outside as fast as you can - don't look back. Now, Dean! GO!” Even young, Dean was never this carefree except maybe in his imagination or as a way to distance himself from others, or when he got really into the “I’m a badass I save people” part of it.

In this scene, Alec (if the character is Jensen’s age) is 23. He’s found a bunch of transgenics that fled from Manticore (the only home they’ve ever known) because of a fire. They’re all children, ranging in age from elementary school to early teens. He’s annoyed because they interrupted his sexy times in a motel. He’s very dismissive of them and spends most of those scenes throwing pieces of popcorn at one of the X7s, who are all small children. Creepy black-eyed hive-minded small children, but small children nonetheless. He makes smart remarks and rolls his eyes while Max tries to get through to the children to let them know that they should absolutely not go back to Manticore if they want to live. In just a few minutes, she takes apart their foundations: You don’t answer to me. You’re not a designation, you’re a person. You have a name now. You have to make your own choices.

“Why would Manticore try to get rid of us?”

Alec answers:

Compare that to Dean as early as 1x3 Dead in the Water:

Dean doesn’t even talk the same way as Alec (except in the first few episode, while they were still getting used to their characters), and I don’t mean Jensen’s ever-more-gravelly voice, I mean the way he stubbornly pushes his jaw forward and talks out one side of his mouth or through his teeth. He has his mouth slightly open a lot. Sometimes he barely moves his mouth when he talks, speaking as if saying the words mostly to himself. Like 2x20 where Wishverse!Sam says “You slept with my prom date. On prom night.” Dean says, “Yeah that does kinda sound like me” while barely moving his mouth at all. Or in 4x01 where he holds up the empty liquor bottle and asks Bobby, “What, r’yer parents outta town or somethin?” That’s such a mushy line. He has a mush-mouth that’s only made mushier by hunter jargon and Dean’s... idiosyncratic way of speaking. If you weren’t in this fandom, would you know what I full-on Swayze’d that mother even meant? I always think of this (7x21):

(He can speak perfectly clearly when he wants to make a point, or when they’re pretending to be any kind of authority. I always think of the exchange in 5x14: My Bloody Valentine:

SAM: [mock sadness] That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong.

DEAN: [pokerface] Remarkably patronizing concern. Duly noted.

He can turn it off when he wants to. That Dean’s Master Adapter thing and it’s FUCKING HOT. Oh, I’m a production assistant now? Cool, aced it in a day. Oh, we’re in prison? This is fine, I’m gonna procure cigarettes. LARPing? Sign me the fuck up. Oh, we’re reporters? I can sound like a reporter. I’ve watched thousands of hours of television, I can mimic anyone. I can fake my way through almost anything. We’re in a different town two weeks from now, I can tell people whatever I want.

OH SHIT, DEAN TANGENT INSIDE OF A JENSEN RANGE TANGENT. Quick, make it look intentional!

Anyway, to me, Alec... Dean... not the same character. Going from one to the other was so jarring. For gifsets or edits where you want to show young Dean Winchester, it totally works for that. I mean, it’s Jensen’s face when he was that pre-Supernatural age... except that Jensen didn’t really look like Ridge Canipe or Dylan Everett when he was that age. (I love Dylan Everett. I don’t even care that his eyes are the wrong color.)

But something else Jensen does is put his own mark on roles that he’s given. Tom Hanniger wasn’t supposed to be as sympathetic as he turned out to be, and most people who watched it stated that they wanted someone else to be the bad guy (Axel was looking good for it) so that Tom would be okay. (Sorry if I just spoiled that for you.) Alec wasn’t supposed to be quite so likable, but that’s what Jensen brought to it. Even Kripke said early on that Dean was different on the page than when Jensen got ahold of him. He finds the heart of the character. Imagine if Dean Winchester had been the guy from the pilot this whole time, grossly leering at Jess to make Sam uncomfortable and defensive.

Remember that Jess first says “Your brother Dean?” with a pleased smile on her face.

DEAN: [instantly leering] Oh, I love the Smurfs. [ogles cleavage] You know, I gotta tell you. [steps too close] You are completely out of my brother's league. [suggestive grin]

JESS: [smile fading, clearly uncomfortable] Just let me put something on.

[JESS turns to go. DEAN's voice stops her.]

DEAN: [isn’t discouraged by her discomfort] No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. [another leer] Seriously.

When I first watched that, I thought: “Pussyhound with control issues? That’s your brother’s girl, don’t be skeevy.”

But before long, you realize what it was: Contempt. He wasn’t interested in Jess. “I’m going to make you feel very unwelcome because who the hell invited YOU?” It’s very possessive.

Think about that first scene with Dean after “Easy, tiger!” and then Dean a mere 9 episodes later, in “Home”, trying to get through to John because he’s scared, his voice breaking, his eyes filling up. During that first scene, would you have predicted something like that? "My heart’s gonna break for this bossy bad boy creep.” In fact, by the third episode of the series, it has. Sam tries to make a note of it and gets shut down by Dean right away. "I’ll show you a little, but that’s all. Don’t test me.”

DEAN: You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Later:

DEAN: Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?

It’s not until 2x20: What is and What Should Never Be where you see how Dean feels about Jess now that he understands how important she was to Sam: He hug-tackles her from out of frame, and if she never died... There were more layers of Dean revealed in that episode than Alec got his entire season. (Don’t even get me started on that episode, I’ll just start crying and I’m already so off course with this post.)

Jensen took this role and made it as iconic as it is. He protects it.

I’m not saying another actor couldn’t have also “sold” that role and made it their own. What I am saying is, I don’t think that another actor would be playing the everloving fuck out of that role -- with all its twists and turns, advances and setbacks -- 14 years later with seemingly as much passion (if not more) than when they started.

But Jensen didn’t leave Dean in that swaggering, cocky, Han Solo place. He deepened the character, added layers, he shows us the cracks and the flaws. The show would NOT have lasted 14 seasons without these two actors. God, I only watch it to see what’s happening to them and see the ways they found to challenge themselves in otherwise unremarkable episodes. It’s like a troubled relationship where you’re like “No, I’m not watching it again ever” and then it texts you at 3am with “wyd” and suddenly you’re playing an episode and wondering about your life.

I went into that long-ass, rambling, what-even-are-you-talking-about tangent to set you up for this:

Nihilism was NOT an unremarkable episode.

This is not like any other role that Jensen has played before.

There’s really no trace of Dean Winchester in Michael except the resemblance (and the daddy issues, I suppose). And even that’s played down with the neat hair, the suit, the artful "I know my best angles” way that he presents himself to people. There’s not even a trace of other characters that Jensen has played. It’s an entirely new role for him.

Michael carries himself elegantly. The perfect posture, the poise, the careful, graceful motions. Dean kind of slouches, looms, or does a parade rest sort of thing where he’s braced for whatever might happen. He’s got a big ambling swagger. He puts his feet up on tables or sits with his legs sprawled apart.

Michael eerily doesn’t blink as much as you would expect. As Dean, Jensen blinks a lot and closes his eyes, sometimes for a few seconds in the middle of a line, as if he’s processing his thoughts. I love it. It doesn’t start happening until S4 or so, where he wants to show the general weariness of the character. It happens the most when he’s angry or exasperated. But Michael is laser-focused.

Michael speaks very precisely and almost ceremoniously, like he’s selecting each word for the maximum impact. He has ALL the time in the world. Dean talks like... well, Dean. This is the big one for me. He just doesn’t SOUND like Dean, even though it’s the same damn voice. It’s in the cadence. He also holds his chin upright so his voice projects differently, and his jaw isn’t clenched like Dean’s usually is. His voice comes across as smooth and oozes condescension.

Michael, in keeping with his wardrobe and (understandable) superiority complex is very fussy. While Sam, Cas, and Jack are talking, he’s speculatively opening and closing his hands in the background as if trying the cuffs, but he doesn’t even bother to struggle. While he’s talking to Cas during the big monologue, he absently picks a speck of something out from under a fingernail and neatly refolds his hands on his knee. He puts himself in those 3-piece suits. He has expanded to take up all of the possible Dean-ness and he’s very proud of his vessel. The human that used to be in control could not possibly matter less. As far as he’s concerned, Dean was his the moment he was even born.

Michael’s expressions are very different. Dean has a very expressive face. In one 5-second gif, you can identify a number of little micro-expressions he goes through. His face is almost never still unless something has gone very wrong. His eyebrows are all over the place. He’s squinty from having scowled for so long. He absently curls his lip when he talks. Because Michael doesn’t have all the trauma and worries that Dean has, he keeps his expression smooth. He looks completely dignified. Because he feels he has absolutely nothing to fear, his expressions are supercilious and disdainful.

Michael is very, very serene. He’s a BEING, and currently immortal. The things the “pig-filthy humans” are doing don’t really seem to concern him. “He's a gnat,” he says about Dean. He’s waiting them out because to him, they’re the blink of an eye. People keep trying to get a rise out of him, I think because he wears Dean’s face and they’re desperate to see a glimpse of him. Michael just doesn’t give a shit. Holy fire? Whatever. These cute handcuffs? That’s adorable.

Look at the image below. There is no Dean at all, there is barely even a flicker of concern. His smile here is almost like, “You are naive and tedious. I’m just waiting for my army to get here. Might as well relax.”

I’m sorry, I’m just very, very excited and I’m so proud of Jensen. He was already brilliant, but this kicked it into a whole new level.

What killed me:

* Don’t interrupt me.

* Dean’s not home right now. Please leave a message.

* (”With these angel cuffs on, Michael’s under control.”) You keep telling yourself that.

* THAT CREEPY ASS SMILE after Sam says that the Impala’s trunk could hold Michael!Dean too. IT’S SO CREEPY WHAT IS IT

* I called them. [smiles, fake gasp of surprise] It’s a party.

* (”Sam, are we going to die here?”) ANOTHER CREEPY LITTLE SMILE like he could not be less intimidated if he tried.

* I can hear you. [they move about 5 steps further] Really?

* Remind me, Castiel, we’re west of Kansas City? (Dudes, he is an archangel, did you think walking into another room was going to keep him from hearing you?)

* Yeah, put a chair against the door. That’ll help.

* The last thing you’ll see is this pretty smile. AND HE DOES THE TONGUE THING THAT JENSEN DOES so in the small moment to me he was Evil!Jensen. I would read that fanfic. it made me SO uneasy.

* I’m in his head. LITERALLY.

* (”He’s lying.”) No, I’m not. And I can still hear you.

* God -- Chuck -- is a writer, and like all writers, He churns out draft after draft. (The way he sort of labors over every letter in the word “Chuck”, it’s so contemptuous, almost like he’s saying “Fuck”?)

* He never would’ve been so... anemic. [absently cleans a fingernail]

* [leans forward] Even God can die. Ugh, the chill that went down my spine.

* Cool science project.

* When they put the electrodes(?) on him, he’s sort of glancing back and forth, HE’S SO AMUSED, he even laughs disparagingly.

* Oh, Cas. I believe in you. LOL

* In there? You’re all mine. *audible swallow*

Ugh, if AU!Michael!Dean was a lotion, I would smear it all over my body.

Thank you for coming to my Jensen Talk.

#spoilers #spn spoilers #supernatural #jensen ackles #i haven't written analysis in a long time so this might just be stupid #dean winchester #spn cast

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