#someone tell me it's not that bad and i didn't fuck up

[nativegirltapes]

⸻ ┊͙ overhearing rafe and barry talking about you !

warnings: bad girls club, mentions of fingering, rafe and barry being freaks. reupload from my old acc ! not proofread cuz i am lazy !!

rafe and barry had been blowing up your phone all day, asking if you wanted to come over to barry's trailer and smoke a blunt with them, your shared groupchat with both of them was very rarely ever dry.

smoking with them usually was kind of boring, you'd all get high and then they'd start talking about some stupid shit that you had no interest in and then you'd threaten to leave, and they'd beg you to stay a little longer. but today you felt like getting some attention from your two favorite boys.

you finished final touches, putting on your favorite mini denim skirt and tossing on one of rafe's hoodies he'd left over from a few nights ago and headed outside to the door to the uber that rafe had paid for.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 🍰 ⟡˖ ࣪

just as you were about to walk into barry's trailer you dropped your lipgloss. bending over to pick it up, you could hear rafe and barry talking about you through the screen door. you stopped in your tracks to listen, you always wondered what they said about you when you weren't there.

"she let me finger her once." you heard barry say, immediately getting flash back to the night when rafe left barry's early, leaving you and barry alone at his trailer.

"you're fucking lying." rafe scoffed, setting the shared blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him, taken aback by what barry said. he had to be lying, you were untouchable in his head, but there you were letting yours and his bestfreind touch you? "when?" rafe questioned, sitting back on the couch.

"why the fuck would i lie bruh?" barry copied rafe's moments, now too laid back on the couch, both of them forgetting about the blunt on the table in front of them. "she was all begging for it and shit."

rafe chuckled to himself. you? the beggar type? he didn't see that coming. when he thought about how you were in bed, you figured you would be the demanding and bratty type, because of how you talked to him and barry; always bossing someone around. but there you were begging for some dick. the thought of it made his dick grow hard. "when was this?"

"i dont know man, few weeks ago." barry scratched his head. you knew barry and rafe were practically bestfreinds, although they'd never say that, but you didn't think barry would go tell rafe your business.

"wow." rafe raised his eyebrows, partly still surprised, but mainly jealous. why were you letting barry touch you and not him? it didn't make sense.

you'd gotten down right nasty with rafe over messages before, too many times to count on both hands, but you never let him finger you or touch you. why?

"hi guys." you opened the door, walking up the trailer stairs, your short skirt riding up your thighs.

"there she is," barry grabbed the blunt back, trying to act occupied, like him and rafe weren't just talking about you. "our girl."

"what have you guys been up to?" you took a seat right next to rafe, so close to him that you were basically sitting on his lap. you confused him so much, did you want him or barry?

rafe wrapped his arm around you, bringing you somehow even closer to him. "just waiting around for the princess."

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bad Day at Black Rock | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: panic attack/PTSD, recovering from a sexual assault (HEED THESE WARNINGS ESPECIALLY FOR THIS CHAPTER), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6673

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“What?!” you exclaimed. “She’s a demon, and you didn’t gank her?!”

Sam had just finished telling you and Dean about this Ruby girl he’d met. 

“No, (Y/N), I mean, she seemed pretty helpful on the Seven Deadlies case.”

“Wait, she’s the blonde chick?!” you realized. “Why the fuck would a demon help me?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “That’s what I’m trying to understand, too. And if she helped us then, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have at least listened to what she had to say.”

“Because ‘demon,’ that's why,” Dean snapped angrily. “I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water! You don't chat!”

“No one was chatting, Dean,” Sam huffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?”

“Because she said she might be able to help us out!”

“With what, though, Sam,” you chimed in. “You’ve never said how she’s supposed to be able to help us. Or with what.”

“She told me she could help Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean seemed to not understand.

“With the crossroads deal, I’m assuming,” you told him.

Sam nodded.

The older brother looked at Sam incredulously. “What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is; it's me.” Dean paused for a second. “What else did she say?”

Sam was quiet again.

You and Dean leaned in expectantly. “Dude?” the older brother questioned.

“Nothing. Nothing, Okay?!” Sam snapped. “Look, I'm not an idiot, guys. I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are; we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it.”

“You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed. “Yes I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?”

You looked between the two brothers when a phone began ringing. You checked your pockets; no buzzing. Sam and Dean’s phones weren’t ringing either. 

“Check the glove box, it's Dad's,” Dean suddenly realized.

“Dad’s?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call.”

‘Smart boy,’ you thought.

Sam opened the glove box and found the ringing phone. “Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey… No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me—” Sam gestured to you for a pen, which you quickly handed to him— “do you- do you have the address so I can... Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot.” He then hung up and turned to Dean. “Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Outside of Buffalo?”

The older brother shook his head. “No way.”

“Yeah. And someone just broke into it.”

***

“No demons allowed,” Sam noted upon entering his father’s storage container. A large Devil’s Trap was etched into the ground, and two sets of bloody footprints traveled right through it. 

“Check this out,” Dean said, stooping to hold up a tripwire. It was attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. 

“Whoever broke in here got tagged,” Sam said.

“I got two sets of boot treads here,” you announced, “looks like it was a two-man job. And Buckshot Boy looks like he kept walking.” You nodded toward the bloody footprint trail leading into the container.

“So, what's the deal?” Sam wondered aloud. “Dad would do work here or something?”

“Living the high life, as usual,” Dean quipped.

The three of you crept around John’s storage locker, and the two brothers chatted about how much of a mystery their father still was to them. You took in the varying types of clutter. To your surprise, the room was filled with old memorabilia; photo albums, a graduation cap and gown you assumed was Sam’s, and a few boxes whose contents were written on the outside of them in a woman’s handwriting you assumed belonged to Mary. 

You smiled at a trophy on a shelf nearby. “Check it out,” you said, picking it up and dusting it off. “Sam Winchester, 1995,” you read aloud, “Soccer Division Championship.”

Sam grinned and came over to you. “No way! I can't believe he kept this.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled lopsidedly, “it was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy.” He wandered over to another table with a shotgun laid on it. “Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade.” The older brother laughed and pumped the dusty shotgun.

“You made that?” you questioned.

“Not bad, eh?” he grinned excitedly.

“No, not at all,” you giggled. “Damn, dude.” You took the gun from him and inspected it, impressed with Dean’s craftsmanship. He smiled proudly at you.

“Guys, over here,” Sam said. You followed his voice over to a door to a back room. The chain on the door had been cut, and you cautiously made your way inside.

You waved your flashlight around the room to find varying weapons and lockboxes that no doubt held nasty supernatural objects.

“Holy crap. Look at this,” Dean called, “he had land mines. Which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?”

You took in the lockboxes on the shelf on the far wall. “This is binding magic,” you pointed out. “Curse boxes.”

“Curse boxes?” Dean questioned. “They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the Pandora deal?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object.”

“Well, Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, y'know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they ended up,” Dean added.

“Must be his sulfur-sludge dump,” you joked. You noticed a rectangular-shaped hole in the dust that had settled over the shelf. “Well, they found what they were looking for.”

“Great,” Sam groaned.

“Well, maybe they didn't open it,” Dean suggested optimistically. 

“Cute thought, but I’m sure they did,” you replied flippantly. You looked around the exterior of the storage unit for anything that could be of use to you; footprints, tire tracks, and… aha! A security camera.

“That’s helpful,” you noted, pointing up at it. 

The boys helped you fish the SD card out of the security camera, and you hooked it up to your computer. 

“There, license plate,” you noted. “And now…” you pulled up an alternate tab and copied the license plate number into it. Immediately, pages began scrolling of places the license plate had been seen at. Most recently, an apartment not too far from you. 

“Ta-da,” you announced childishly, and the brothers looked at you in shock.

“Jesus, (Y/N), how’d you get access to all this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, y’know,” you smirked, trailing off. 

Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Same way any hackers do,” you shrugged. “Had this guy on the hook for a bit when I was, maybe, twenty. Found out he was an FBI agent in the cyber unit— not the brightest of the bunch— and I phished his computer. Of course, as soon as I did, the computer broke and shut down. Told him I was good with computers and could fix it for him, and then, I cut and run. Fixed the laptop up and had access to everything he had access to. Exported it to my laptop, ditched his somewhere in Arizona, and here we are.”

“That is…” Dean trailed off, “incredibly hot.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. 

“Get a room,” Sam mumbled, moving over to the Impala.

***

You and the Winchesters crept into the apartment belonging to the drivers of the stolen Connecticut vehicle, guns drawn. You could hear two men chattering about their poker game, and then you finally burst into the room on Dean’s nod.

“Freeze, freeze! Nobody move!” he commanded.

“He said don’t fucking move!” you ordered, pinning the bandaged, redheaded man to his seat with your gun.

“What is this?” the other man questioned.

“Stop!” Sam demanded. 

“Alright, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–”

Sam cut Dean off. “Oh, they did.”

“You opened it?!” Dean grunted. He shoved the dark-haired man against the wall.

“Are you guys cops?!” the man pinned wondered.

“What was in the box?” Dean questioned angrily.

You noticed a rabbit’s foot on the edge of the table. ‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought. 

“Oh, was that it, huh?” Dean laughed coldly. “It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?”

The man used Dean’s distraction to knock the gun out of his hand. When it fell to the floor, it fired, and you had to drop to the floor to avoid being hit in the face by the bullet.

The bullet ricocheted off the radiator and hit Sam’s gun, and he dropped it. The same bullet somehow ricocheted and hit a lamp, breaking it. You dove across the floor, trying to grab Sam’s gun, and the redheaded man pushed Sam down on top of you.

“The fuck, Sam?!”

“Sorry!”

You scrambled toward the redhead, and he backhanded you, somehow knocking you off balance and sending you to the floor. You normally wouldn’t have been so thrown off by such a simple move, but that rabbit’s foot was definitely working its magic. 

“Dean, I got it!” Sam announced. You turned around to see him holding the rabbit’s foot.

“Fuck, Sam, no!” you cried upon seeing him holding the cursed object.

The dark-haired man moved forward holding Dean’s favored gun and cocked it in his face. The man pulled the trigger in Sam’s face, but the gun jammed. 

‘Thank god.’

A quick scuffle ensued in which the two men opposing you had a bookshelf fall on them and a carpet got wrapped around their ankles and tripped them. Both men knocked themselves out, and Dean laughed triumphantly.

“That was a lucky break!”

“No, not lucky!” you shrieked. “Sam, that’s a rabbit’s foot!”

“Uh, yeah?” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” you panicked. 

“No, what are you—”

“I’m calling Bobby,” you said, storming out of the apartment and back to the Impala. 

“Whoa, whoa, why? I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, (Y/N),” Dean countered, catching up to you. 

“Because that’s a rabbit’s foot, Dean! A cursed object! Its literal function is to bring bad luck,” you explained.

“How?” Sam asked. 

“Once you touch it, you’re marked. Luck’s gonna be on your side.”

“Better buy some lottery tickets then,” Dean chuckled excitedly.

You glared at him. “But if you lose it, you’re fucked. It’ll keep bringing you bad luck till it eventually kills you.”

“Well, I just won’t lose it, then,” Sam tried. 

“Everybody loses it, Sam! That’s the whole point!”

The two boys looked slightly shaken; Sam more so than Dean. Dean was laughing all the way to the bank on this one, and he dragged you and Sam to a gas station to get lottery scratch-off tickets. Then, he drove you to a restaurant chain location called Biggerson’s for some dinner. 

You sat on the phone with Bobby, the two of you angrily muttering about the insanity of the situation to each other.

“Gotta say, kid,” Bobby started, “was hoping the next time I heard from ya, it’d be on happier terms than this.”

“Trust me, me too,” you sighed. “Do you know of anything that can stop this?”

“I’ll dig around—”

Bobby’s voice in your ear was cut off by Dean triumphantly exclaiming, “twelve-hundred dollars! You just won twelve-hundred dollars!”

You grimaced and put the phone back to your ear.

“I’m guessing Sam’s luck’s still good,” Bobby drawled.

“For now, but I don’t know for how much longer.” You got out of the car, suddenly feeling suffocated in the Impala. You paced around, as did Sam, and you watched as he walked over to something glistening under a newspaper on the ground. 

“I’ll figure somethin’ out. Lemme look through my library and make some calls,” Bobby said. “Call me if anything else goes to shit.”

You laughed, and Sam stood up holding a golden watch. He turned to Dean who stood next to you and mouthed something like, “Awesome,” to his brother.

“Will do,” you told the older man on the phone. “Hurry, Bobby.” You hung up as Dean calculated the winnings from the scratch-off tickets he made Sam fill out.

“Oh, man!” Dean grinned. “We’re up fifteen grand!”

You and Sam half-smiled, both feeling unsettled still.

Dean continued to laugh as he walked into the restaurant with you hot on his heels. 

“In case you forgot, Dean, we’re still technically fugitives,” you hissed. “If Sam’s luck goes to hell, we could be royally fucked.”

“Don't worry,” Dean said easily. “Bobby 'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. Sam can be Rain Man.”

“Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam whispered. He turned to the man behind the host stand. “Hi, uh, table for three, please.”

The man’s face broke out into a grin, and he hollered, “Congratulations!” An alarm began to sound through the restaurant.

“It's exciting, I know,” Dean quipped.

“You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!” the man announced. 

The staff surrounding you began singing and taking photographs while they shoved a giant check into your hands. Balloons fell from the ceiling, and you and Sam would’ve rathered been anywhere else. Dean was ecstatic, though, which you were happy to see. You’d suffer tremendous embarrassment fifty times over just to see him smile. That thought scared you a little bit; how you'd do anything for him. You had a tendency to be an extremist.

You were escorted to your table, and a gorgeous waitress in what was clearly a black bob wig approached your table. 

Her coy smile was alluring, but something about her wasn’t sitting right with you. Still, nothing seemed off through the rest of the meal. Sam clacked away on his laptop rattling off bits of lore he was reading on rabbit’s foot Hoodoo magic while you and Dean shared a bowl of ice cream. 

“I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's,” Dean commented. 

The waitress came back over to your table with a pot of coffee and grinned at Sam. “Can I freshen you up?”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

The waitress poured, still smiling, and spilled some in her flirtatious stupor. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Let me mop up here. Sorry about that.” She hurriedly cleaned her mess and left the table, appearing to flirt with Sam over her shoulder even as she left.

“Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky…” Dean trailed off.

Sam smirked. “Shut up.”

You smacked Dean’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Sam went to pick up his coffee, but he knocked the cup over and spilled it all over himself. Before you could process what was going on, he jumped out of his seat and into a waiter with a full tray. Things went flying through the air as Sam rushed profuse apologies. 

“Sam, check your pockets,” you said evenly. 

He did, and his hands came up empty.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

You and the brothers threw a wad of cash on the table and raced into the parking lot after the waitress. You noticed the black bob wig ditched on the ground a few feet from the door. “I knew it was a wig!”

“What?” Sam asked, turning around to you. He immediately tripped and fell flat on his face. 

“Wow! You suck!” Dean laughed, turning back to a groaning Sam.

“Ow,” the younger brother whined while you helped him up. His knees were bloody and raw through his ripped jeans.

“So what, now your luck turns bad?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, Dean, I believe I’ve said that,” you remarked, and he glared at you. 

“Well, how bad does it get, genius?” 

“Really bad. C’mon,” you urged. 

“Where we goin’?” Sam asked.

“Back to the two jackwads that got us into this mess,” you said, hopping in the driver’s seat. 

“Whoa, who said you could drive?” Dean questioned.

“Me. Don’t be a child,” you said. 

***

You broke into the apartment once again to find the brunet man sadly downing a bottle of tequila. 

“Oh, man. What do you want?” the man asked.

“Heard about your friend. That's bad luck,” Dean tsked, referring to the death of the redheaded thief. 

“Piss off,” the man spat.

“We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman,” Dean continued.

“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because she just stole it back from us.”

The man laughed. 

Sam stepped forward. “Listen man, this is seri—” and then he fell to the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player and a shelf down on top of him. 

You turned back to help the younger brother up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, smiling awkwardly in thanks for your help. 

“I want you to tell us her name,” the older Winchester continued to the man. 

“Fuck you,” was the only response he got.

“It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner,” you tried, coming out from behind the couch.

“What?”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinkin’ it. I thought you’d be smarter than that,” you challenged. That seemed to get under the man’s skin, so you continued. “That series of unfortunate events that had to happen to kill your partner— like, had you not seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it— that was the rabbit’s foot. If you don’t help us stop this thing, those deaths are on you, my friend.”

The man in front of you looked worried. 

“And I gotta tell you, it doesn’t seem you’re cut out for the whole killin’ thing. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you?” you continued to press.

The man shook his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No.”

***

You left the apartment repeating the woman’s last name over and over in your head. The man told you “Lugosi” was the only name he and his partner were given when they were hired. 

You took out your phone and called Bobby. 

“Hey, (Y/N), glad you called,” you heard the man say. 

“Hey, we got a situation here—”

“I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick,” Bobby continued. 

“That’s awesome, thank you, but uh…” you trailed off, trying to decide how to phrase your next words. You decided not to sugarcoat it in the end. “Sam lost the foot.”

“He what?!”

“I know, I know,” you sighed. You turned back around to see Sam and Dean trying to use a broken storm grate to get gum off the bottom of Sam’s shoe. You shook your head at their faces when they noticed you; seeming like two little kids caught with their hands in the candy bowl. You returned your focus to your phone call. “Listen, you know anybody by the name ‘Lugosi’? Maybe mid 20’s, super hot, my height—”

“Aw, crap. It’s probably Bela,” Bobby said. 

“ Bela Lugosi? That’s cute, but never heard of her,” you replied.

“Bela Talbot’s her real name,” the older man continued. “Crossed paths with her once or twice.”

“How the hell would she know John had the rabbit’s foot? She a hunter?” you questioned.

“Pretty fuckin’ far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country,” Bobby explained. “Last I heard, she was in the Middle East someplace.”

“Well, she’s back!” you mock-cheered, exasperated.

“Which means seriously bad luck for you,” the older man added.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” you quipped.

“Well, kid, if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her,” he finished. 

“Thanks, Bobby. For everything.”

“Just… look out for those two idjits.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

You sighed and turned back around to see Dean reaching through the storm drain and Sam looking dejected. 

“What happened?” you asked.

“I lost my shoe,” the brunet replied sadly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed sympathetically, and Sam’s head hung low. Dean seemed annoyed and huffed, standing up from the floor. 

“C’mon,” the older brother asserted.

***

Bobby did actually have a pretty good lead on Bela; she apparently lived in Queens about two hours away. 

“So what are we doing here?” Sam questioned, referencing the motel you’d just gotten a room at. 

“You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed,” Dean stated. “And (Y/N), you’re staying with him.”

“What?! Why?” you protested. 

“Because Sam actually listens to you when you tell him not to do something. And you’re way more responsible than me,” Dean shrugged simply.

“Fair point,” you sighed. “Knowing you, you’ll touch the stupid rabbit’s foot, though.”

“Pfft, c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about—”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you dryly stated.

Dean glared at you playfully as he walked Sam into a motel room. You followed close behind and peeked out the door to make sure you weren’t followed. 

“What am I even supposed to do, Dean?” Sam whined.

“Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here—” the older brother pulled a chair into the middle of the room— “and don't move, okay? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose.” Dean turned to you. “If I’m not back by midnight, take off.”

“What, you gonna turn into a pumpkin or something?” you snickered.

“(Y/N), I’m serious.”

“Since when?”

“(Y/N)—”

“Okay, okay, fine, I heard you.”

Dean smirked down at you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.

You watched him leave, a bit of your heart tugging at being anywhere without him. Your feelings for him were certainly growing stronger, and it frightened you how constantly you needed to be near him. 

You turned back to see Sam wrinkle his nose a few times before finally risking a scratch at it. 

“Hey! None of that,” you said. 

Sam’s sad eyes turned to yours. “This fuckin’ sucks, man,” he sighed.

“I know it does. Kinda the whole point of the rabbit’s foot curse,” you commented.

He ignored your smart remark.

“Found anything on how to break Dean’s deal?” you asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. Did find out something interesting, though.”

“What?’ you asked.

“All my mom’s old contacts? All her old friends, the nurse who delivered me— they’re all dead,” he explained.

“What?!” you shrieked. “And you didn’t think to mention this before now?!”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Sam said. “Didn’t wanna say anything in front of Dean; he’d go berserk.”

“You know I have to tell him, right?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, no! Please don’t,” he begged. “Please. You know he’d flip. And, uh, probably more because of the way I got that information than the information itself.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ruby told me.”

“Oh, god.” You rolled your eyes and dropped your head back. 

“C’mon, (Y/N), I mean, I called, and it all checks out. It’s got something to do with me and the demon; I know you recognize that pattern,” Sam tried.

“I do, but I don’t like being constantly stuck in the middle of you and Dean,” you said. “I’m supposed to be Switzerland, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Switzerland didn’t have information on the two sides, she just didn’t pick one,” he shrugged.

“Sam,” you warned, “You know how I feel about keeping things from Dean.”

“I know, I know, but you wouldn’t necessarily be keeping it from him, you’d be…” he trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase his next words, “fulfilling a promise to me.”

“But I didn’t promise anything,” you argued.

“Please promise me you won’t tell Dean. Not till I’m ready,” Sam begged.

“Sam!”

“(Y/N/N), c’mon. Please, man. Please.”

You stared at Sam for a prolonged moment; you stared intensely and Sam looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes from his chair. You sighed and dropped your head forward. “Fine. But you are gonna promise me that you’ll tell Dean eventually. That’s my one condition.”

Sam nodded. “Deal.”

You shook your head and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s chair. “You Winchesters and your secrets.”

“Oh, like you don’t have any,” Sam deadpanned.

You looked up at the television and saw the reflection of your guard uniform and scratched-up face staring back at you. You took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Touché.” You paused for a moment. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What are you gonna do when—” you cut yourself off, tears beginning to well in your throat. You took a deep breath to push them down. “When Dean’s gone?” 

Sam shook his head. “(Y/N), no. He’s not gonna—”

“Sam,” you said. “We are trying everything we can. We’re two months into this thing and no closer to saving him than we were on day one. I stopped looking. Not ‘cause I don’t care anymore, but because I’m not gonna send you to Hell just so Dean can live. I mean, Bobby’s been lookin’, too! And he hasn’t found a damn thing. So I just think we have to be real with ourselves.”

Sam shook his head, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose him,” you said, putting your hand on Sam’s knee to make him look at you and beginning to cry, too. “I don’t. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But… I’m scared, man. When I lost my family…” you closed your eyes at the memory of some of the awful things you’d done and would never forgive yourself for, “I don’t wanna do that again. And… And I just think that if we kept huntin’ together, we could keep tabs on each other. Make sure the other doesn’t go rogue, y’know?”

“I can’t believe you’re just gonna give up on him like that,” Sam spat, disappointed. 

“I’m not!” you argued. “But I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, dammit! Dean would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself!”

“Look, we’ve got ten months left. We’ll find something,” Sam continued. 

“I hope you’re right, man. I really do,” you said.  

Neither of you said anything for the next few hours.

During that time, you took out your journal and wrote. You didn’t usually keep journals when you were done with them as your duffel bag would be filled to the brim with them by now, but you were definitely going to keep this one; especially after Dean was gone. 

It was somewhat poetic that the first day you met the boys was the first time you’d written in this particular journal. Its pages were filled with your, at first, disdainful musings about the older Winchester brother and slowly but surely became your attempts at discerning your feelings for him.

You liked to buy quite thick and large journals to have enough room for your drawings and to be able to continue writing in them for months and occasionally years. This was the longest you’d been able to stretch one, though, and you were a little over three-fourths through writing in it. 

“I can’t help but wonder what comes next after all this,” you wrote, the pen gliding easily against the page in time with your racing thoughts. “I’ve always been awful about ‘futurecasting’ as Dad called it, but it’s even worse now. Every second I’m with Dean, I can’t help but think about how this is all gonna be over in less than a year. And it’s awful. I wanna be present with him. I just can’t. I don’t want there to be an end to us. I don’t even know if we are anything! He can’t even tell me he loves me.

“And I get it to some extent. ‘I love you’s are hard for him. Fine. I just wish he’d figure out some way to communicate with me that isn’t sex. I mean, the sex is great, but. I don’t know. And just after everything that happened, I’m not feeling great about having sex anyway. And I know it’s upsetting him, even if he won’t say anything; he’d never pressure me, and I know that. And I’m getting better about sex and related things. But it just sucks.

“And I don’t wanna bring any of this up with him and start fights because, as I’m painfully aware, that deadline is getting closer and closer every day. I just want him to be happy with me while he still can be.”

You dropped your pen when the air conditioning unit next to you began to smoke. 

“Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't—” Sam whined.

“Just stay put,” you said. You jerked back in surprise when the unit suddenly caught fire. You grabbed the comforter from the bed next to you and began to put the fire out with it. Thankfully, the fire stopped. 

“I’m gonna see if I can get someone to fix that for us before your luck kills us both with carbon monoxide poisoning,” you said, starting toward the door. 

Suddenly, the door to the motel room burst open. However, it wasn’t Dean who opened it. It was two men. You drew your gun and cocked it, trained on the two men. “Get the fuck out,” you ordered. 

“I don’t think so,” said the older-looking man. He almost reminded you of Willem Dafoe, and you mentally pegged that as his name. The other man with a bizarre-looking mustache charged you, and you fired. Somehow, the bullet missed its target despite him being in such close range. 

“What the hell, Sam?!” you exclaimed. “Your luck’s rubbin’ off on me!”

“Sorry!” he winced.

The man charging you tried to restrain you in a headlock, but you kicked him squarely between the legs. You jutted your elbow back into his nose simultaneously, and the man dropped you. 

Unfortunately for you, though, Sam had been trying to help you by taking on Willem Dafoe. You turned around to see Sam unable to land a punch on the other man’s face. You tried to help him, but Sam ended up punching you across the face, and you were knocked out cold.

***

When you woke up, your arms were bound behind your back, and your legs were taped together as well. The men had laid you on your stomach, and you immediately began to struggle and panic, feeling your current position was too similar to the one you’d been in with the guard. 

“Dean! Help me!” you wailed without thinking. Your body was in autopilot as you struggled, and you couldn’t even focus on the men in the room. 

“Quit whinin’,” the man with the mustache told you. 

You could barely hear him over the roaring in your ears. “Dean!”

“I said shut up!” the man in front of you roared, slapping you across the face.

You couldn’t, though, continuing to flail like a fish out of water.

“Creedy,” the other man said, turning away from Sam and to his accomplice, “shut her up, please.”

“With pleasure.” The man took a rag out of his shirt and shoved it in your mouth, your muffled cries coming out around it. 

You vaguely heard Willem Dafoe beating the crap out of Sam while he talked about his mission from “god” to kill Sam. Then, the man drew his gun. His partner was unsettled, too, as you strained harder to get out of your binds. 

Suddenly, your saving grace appeared in the doorway. “Dean!” you cried through the gag in your mouth. 

Willem Dafoe turned around and aimed the gun point-blank at Sam’s forehead. 

“Nope. No destiny,” Dean said coolly referring to the man’s earlier comment about god and destiny leading them to Sam. “Just a rabbit's foot.”

“Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall,” the man replied, his tone ice cold.

Dean waved his Taurus around. “Oh, this thing?”

“Yeah, that thing,” look-alike-Dafoe responded. 

“Okay.” Dean put his gun down on the nightstand beside him, looking smug. “But you see, there's something about me that you don't know.” Dean smoothly picked up a pen off the nightstand beside the gun. 

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“It’s my lucky day,” Dean grinned. He tossed the pen toward Willem Dafoe, and it lodged in the barrel of the gun. ““Oh my God, did you see that shot?!” 

Forgetting all about your current situation, you started yelling through the gag, “You fucking touched it? You fucking idiot!” But all that came out was a muffled garbling of words. 

The man named Creedy lunged at Dean, but missed his punch completely. The man ended up running straight into the wall, and Dafoe was busying himself trying to dislodge the pen from the barrel of his gun. 

“I'm amazing,” Dean said smugly. He picked up the television remote and threw it hard at Dafoe. It hit the man square between the eyes, knocking him out cold. 

“I’m Batman,” you heard Dean suavely state, but you were too busy returning your focus to getting your binds undone. Now that the immediate danger was over, your body went back into panic mode. You yelped when you suddenly felt a hand on your back and fought even harder. 

“Hey, hey!” Dean coaxed. “It’s just me.” He saw you weren’t listening, and he immediately set to work cutting the duct tape binding your legs and wrists. Your hands shakily yanked out the rag in your mouth. Only then did you realize Dean was the one in front of you, and you leapt into his arms. 

He caught you easily, one hand around the underside of your back and the other around the topside your legs. You curled up into him and buried your face in his neck. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Dean tried, but your shaking wouldn’t stop. You could feel your sobs slowly subside, but it took quite a while of Dean holding you for you to regain your composure. He pressed kisses into the side of your hair while he held you and tried to soothe you by telling you you were safe. 

You finally uncurled your legs from around Dean and let him put you down. 

Sam came up behind you to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded as you sniffled. 

“What happened?” Sam asked in that very unique-to-him soft voice. 

“I dunno,” you lied. 

Dean gave you a look that let you know he’d be asking more questions later. 

“C’mon, we gotta get the hell outta here,” you said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You could feel the boys giving you questioning looks as you gathered up yours and the boys’ things and stalked out to the car. 

*** “Alright,” Sam began, sprinkling cayenne pepper into the embers of a small fire you and the Winchesters had started in the middle of a cemetery. “Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it.”

“One second…” Dean said absentmindedly, scratching off the last of his lottery tickets. 

“Dean—” Sam complained. 

“Hey, back off, Jinx. I’m bringing home the bacon,” Dean quipped. He stashed the cards in his jacket that he’d slung over a gravestone. “Alright, say goodbye, wascally wabbit.” He dangled the rabbit’s foot over the top of the fire. 

“Hey!” you shouted, whipping out your gun at the sound of a twig cracking. You aimed it at the sound, and Bela emerged from the darkness with hers drawn as well. 

“I think you'll find that belongs to me,” she said firmly. “Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey.”

“Oh, hell no,” you said, cocking your gun. 

Bela cut her eyes at you, shooting Sam in the shoulder.

You exclaimed, “What the—!” and Dean cursed, “Son of a—” as Sam collapsed to the ground. 

“Back off, tiger,” Bela told you. “Back off! You make one more move, and I’ll pull the trigger. You’ve got the luck, Dean. You, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him, I can’t miss.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the older brother roared. “You don't just go around shooting people like that!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Relax. It's a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now.”

“Alright!” Dean mollified. “Alright. Take it easy.” He moved to drop the rabbit’s foot, but instead, he threw it at Bela. “Think fast,” he smirked. 

Bela caught the foot and immediately realized what she’d done. “Damn!”

“Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?” Dean smiled in satisfaction. 

Bela sighed, aggravated. She dropped her arm and uncocked her gun, but you kept yours aimed at her as she moved over to the fire. 

“Would you stop pointing that at me?” her smooth voice came without looking at you. 

“Sorry, love. Don’t trust you,” you smiled in fake-politeness. 

She rolled her eyes and moved back to the fire. She dropped the foot into the fire. “Thanks very much,” Bela continued. “I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.” 

“Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?” Dean turned to his brother.

“Nope. Not even a little.”

Bela’s gaze hardened. “Hmm. Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry.” She turned around and moved toward the gravestone where Dean’s jacket laid. You knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Have a nice night, girls,” Bela smirked. 

You glared at her. “Uh, uh! Turn around!” you ordered. 

“What?” she sighed, clearly annoyed. 

“Gimme the tickets,” you commanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. 

“Yeah, you do. You can’t con me, angel.”

She grumbled angrily but took the stolen tickets out of her pocket and threw them to the ground. 

“Thanks a million,” you called after her. 

“You’re fuckin’ awesome, woman,” Dean admired, you assumed in reference to the tickets you noticed Bela stole. He came over to you and kissed you boldly. You giggled against his lips, and he held your waist firmly. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey! Bleeding out, here!” 

You broke away from Dean. “Oh, sorry!” you grimaced, moving to head back to the Impala. “C’mon, I’ll get you patched up.”

When you ensured the rabbit’s foot was burnt to a crisp, you and the Winchesters moved to the car. 

“You good?” Dean asked his brother. 

“I’ll live,” he responded. 

“I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. And we're up forty-six thousand.” Dean threw his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, waving the tickets around in the air. 

“Maybe we should hit Vegas, see how good our luck still is,” you suggested, smiling lopsidedly. 

“I like the way you think,” Dean nodded. “Whaddaya say, Sammy?”

“I think you guys are gonna end up blowing all our money on slot machines,” the younger brother dryly commented. 

“Ye of little faith,” you said. “If not Vegas, we can at least get ourselves a nicer motel room. Maybe we can graduate to hotels!”

“Ooh, yeah. One of those hotels with a jacuzzi tub.”

“Hell yeah—”

“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Still bleeding out, here.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[angelcakegirl]

ʚ recognize ! ɞ

fboy!leon kennedy x fem reader

wc; 2k

cw; smut (mdni!), p in v, unprotected, degrading, hickeys, re4r leon but in college au!!!, ooc leon(he's kinda icky), mentions of substances(alcohol n cannabis), i made leon a tits guy sorrryyyy

note; so sorry if this is kinda shitty im rlly sick rn n i wrote this at like 3am ;((( i rlly luv fboy!leon n just shitty leon in general so enjoy!!!<3

you hate leon is putting it real nicely. you loathe that man! he's a freak!! (in a literal sense too, he'll fuck whatever can breathe). to put it simply, he's a notorious man-whore around campus. sure he's attractive! but he's always rude, always judgey, and always horny. wouldn't be a shock if that man had a disease by now...

you were always a good girl. you tried to stray away from all the recklessness of life and focus on yourself, on your studies, and your future. the future meant a lot to you! okay?!

that didn't mean you could just stray away from any and all social interaction forever– as much as you wanted to. so you agreed to put on a slutty cop costume on the big night of halloween, and go to a party with your girls. you'd never turn them down! besides, how bad could that be?

so you sucked it up and went to the party. the place had blaring music, tables full of booze, and a few blunt rotations happening around the place. honestly, you never understood the point of doing this all at a party. would the alcohol not taste the same at home? would the cannabis not hit the same?? whatever, guess it doesn't bother you.

and the second you entered the place, there went all your friends now making out with random guys. really, this is why you didn't go to these places. same reason as before, why bother going to a party if you're just gonna end up alone? might as well just be alone in the comfort of your dorm! so you decide you'll just walk back. well, not yet. first make use of some of the free drinks lying around, then walk back.

so you pushed past the crowd of drunk party goers and make your way to the kitchen. pouring yourself a drink in one of those basic red solo cups. straight out of a party scene in an all-american college movie. as you took a sip, you suddenly felt someone push your head from behind with a finger, causing you to spill your drink all over your costume.

"hey! what the fuck was that for?!" you immediately turned around, preparing to scold whoever it was before rushing for the bathroom. instead, you're met with snickering from that stupid bleach-blonde boy. "you stole my costume." leon spoke with that same stupid smirk he always had.

you immediately scoffed. "excuse me?" and glanced him up and down. yeah, he was a cop too tonight. and obviously it was also slutty, but in attempts to get laid tonight. much different than your intentions! "so you spill my drink on me because of it?"

"yep." he said with a sly grin. the audacity! but whatever, you don't need unnecessary negativity. like, it's a fuckin' costume, get a grip bro? you push past him and make your way to whatever bathroom was available. albeit, it stunk of sex, but it works. you just gotta wash off so your shirt won't get all sticky, then leave. simple as that.

that was until you were met with a bit of banging on the door. probably two people out there waiting for their chance to get in, were people really that desperate for sex? just go home!! but no matter how many little occupied!'s you yelled, the knocking was persistent. okay, maybe someone needs to throw up or something? you unlock the door to let them in, only to be greeted by the one who caused this mess.

he swiftly shut the door, locking it behind him before coming to stand by you at the mirror, cleaning off your shirt. he immediately begun his stupid snickering again, "that look's worse than before." as he nodded towards your shirt. you wanted to kick him in the balls and tell him off, but he was honestly right on that one. the stain only got bigger, due to more liquid just being added. "whatever, this is literally your fault." yeah, like you care to hear his opinion!

he only continued to smirk at you through the mirror. goosebump inducing, really. he looked good but you had to remind yourself to stand on business! "you seriously think i care about a stupid costume?" he laughed a little more. "you look great tonight, princess. not as great as me... but still great." ...what the fuck were you hearing right now?

"you think i look good yet proceeded to ruin my clothes? doesn't sound very believable, leon." he looked at you as if you were the stupidest person in this room right now. "how else would i get you alone if i didn't?" he continued to grin at you. okay! you had to be going crazy at this point! "okay, so you did this to be alone with me and... why?"

leon shrugged, "you look hot and your tits look big." great. here you thought you were gonna get a good answer. yeah, no way this was happening! you immediately scoffed and went for the bathroom door knob, "bye!" but he stopped you by your wrist. "nuh-uh, you don't go anywhere yet."

you turned to face him and honestly... he was looking real sexy right now. but no! that had to just be your girl hormones talking, cause no way. he looked down at you with a straight face, before slowly beginning to smirk again. that stupid smirk might as well be his resting face at this point. "so, ya' gonna let me hit it or what?" honestly, you'd never agree to this!... you think. maybe it was the lighting in here making him look more appealing than usual, or the sexual music playing right outside the door, or the fact that it's been a hot minute since you last got off but... yeah, you caved.

as he took your small, embarrassed nod as his yes he was quick to press his lips to yours. now both moving in rhythm together as if you were made for this. he was quick to introduce tongue, making out with you as you dug your nails into his shoulders, but he couldn't have that. he pulled back, allowing you to catch your breath while his much stronger hands went from your waist up to your wrists. grabbing them both and pinning you to the bathroom door just like that, before bending down to press wet kisses down your jaw and neck. letting you whine and groan all you want. honestly, the melodies you sung went straight to his dick.

you tipped your head back, allowing him to more access to your neck. and he took this as his go to start sucking down on the skin, painting you with a few hickeys which will be embarrassing walking out the party with later. as you continued to let out a few strings of whimpers from the assault on your neck alone, he begun to snicker against your skin. "relax, girl, barely done anything yet." however, he wasn't complaining for sure. the sounds were one big ego boost to him and again, a giant boner booster as well.

his last hickey was placed right on top of the plush of your breast, which your low cut costume showed off anyways. thank god pushup bra's exist! he was quick to swing you back over to the counter, letting you watch yourself in the mirror. "s'gonna bend you over this counter like the slut you are, yeah?" if anything, he was the slut here! he chuckled over the clicks of his belt coming undone. "can't even recognize you right now." you'd much rather just not speak. mind too foggy with lust.

he easily ripped your little fishnet tights off you. whatever, they were from the dollar store anyways. and slid down your pink panties, chuckling when he saw the wet stain within them. "aw, all this for me?" as he sneakily tucked them into his pocket. as he freed himself from his pants, he nodded towards your shirt in the mirror's reflection. "take that off. wanna see those tits bounce." always swore you'd never listen to a man, yet you were quick to do what he said. he grinned when he saw them out. quick to give one a little slap, just to see them move around a bit.

he swiftly grabbed both your wrists in his one hand, noticeably very big. pinning them both down to your lower back. "it's a shame neither of us got handcuffs on us, huh, cop?" he joked as he pushed you over, using his other hand to push your skirt up to reveal your sopping wet cunt. he let his cock head glide against your folds, collecting some of your arousal on it. even rubbing his tip against your clit just for your own sake which sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

when he finally pushed himself in, you immediately gasped feeling that burning stretch. no wonder he always had girls on his dick, this thing was huge! real thick, too. he gave you a second to adjust, before slowly pushing in and out of your cunt. feeling your velvety walls stay nice and tight around him.

the feeling was all too much. moaning out, you let your head drop forwards to hang low as he started up his thrusts. which earned a tsk tsk from him, his free hand which weren't holding yours moved from your hip to your jaw, now holding your head up to make you watch yourself in the mirror. "need you to watch, can you do that for me, pretty girl?" you were fast to nod through moans, his words alone were giving you a clit hard-on.

he quickened his pace of thrusts. his talk continuously degrading, but with such sweet names in the mix. "taking this cock good, huh?" he spoke through little grunts. "like such a good slut. ye'made for it, baby." really, you shouldn't have gotten as tight as you did upon hearing that. feeling your walls squeeze against him did a number on leon, causing the blonde to throw his head back momentarily. "fuck– it's like she's sucking me in." he moaned out. and as in she, he obviously didn't mean you.

the room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping and the squelching sounds your cunt made for him. that, plus both your moans, of course. maybe be a little grateful that the party music outside was loud enough to cover this all up, okay? he continued his thrusts, noticing the way you were getting closer. he's done many girls before, of course he can tell by now. his hand snaked down from holding your head up, to your clit. (but also giving your tits a quick squeeze as he moved), where he begun to rub you just in the way he learned majority of the girls he slept with liked. that, paired with the way his cock head kissed your cervix did a number on you. "you like that, baby? gonna cum all over this dick?" you made it very apparent that you in fact loved it actually, by the way you moaned his name and writhed for him.

as your orgasm began to topple near, leon found himself getting close too. really couldn't help himself, your tits in the mirror were just to mesmerizing. when he was really close, balls heavy with cum, he began his dirty talk again. "gonna cum inside this pussy, yeah?" he grunted. "like she's made for me, take it all." the sex was just all too good, and you were being sorta a pushover right now, so you really didn't care at this point!

his words pushed you right off the edge, as you began to writhe and cry out while you creamed around his cock. he took this as his cue to finally cum himself, throwing his head back in a low groan as he filled your cunt. "oh, fuckk yes–" he moaned out as your babbled through your orgasm, calling out his name and his only. that shit alone got him going as well.

as you both came down from your highs, he let go of you. quickly getting his pants back on. "well, i gotta bounce," he said in a hurry.

at least he did the you the courtesy of pulling your skirt back down. "hasta luego!" he shut the door again, leaving you in the bathroom of a party, out of breath, with his remnants spilling out your cunt. how fucking rude.

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Character Death)

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; main character death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Had someone ask for a different alternate ending so here it is :)

*This picks up from part 13 in italics*

The moment the video stopped, you locked eyes with Simon. Your puffy eyes made him internally broken, but his facial expression hadn't changed, and you didn't know if he was upset that you had gotten revenge for cheating on you... or if it was something else. You wanted to say that it meant nothing. That you were drunk and fucking mad at him... but you couldn't say shit with the tape still over your mouth.

"I have to say, she sounds.. so damn good. Doesn't she?" Jax teased as he asked everyone in the room. Even with Andrei not responding, since he was the one who had his tongue on you, Jax smiled at Simon like he had won or something, "How does it feel?" He walked and stood behind Simon as he leaned down so his face was almost next to his, looking at you, "Tell her." He demanded.

Simon's eyes never strayed away from yours as you continued to cry. The look on his face hadn't really changed, but his eyes told you exactly how he felt. The regret that ran through his soul.... he wished he could been a better man; a better husband. You didn't deserve any of this.. yet you stayed. You had wanted to work on your marriage even after the ugly truth came out. It was his fault, and he would forever kill himself over it. He would be grateful if you ever forgave him, promising to give you the entire world and more after he so much tore yours apart by cheating.

"I love you," he lowly said, making you cry even more. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart... for everythin'."

"Satisfying, isn't it?.. Finally realizing your mistakes?"

Simon finally tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jax, "Let her go."

He paused, acting as if he was thinking about something, "I thought about it," he teased, "but see... I can't do that. She's knows far too much... much more than our girl Williams," he joked - a terrible one that made both you and Simon shoot him the deadliest glare.

He raised his gun up, pointing it at you, making your eyes widen.

"Let her go, Jax," Simon raised his voice, "This is between me and you."

"Oh, it's not just me," he chuckled, "But I guess it would be easier to take you out first." He moved his gun to point it at Simon's temple.

You yelled through the tape and thrashed around as you tried to get out of the restraints. Your skin was probably raw at how much you rubbed at the ropes. You wanted to beg him not to shoot your husband.. you even tried to. But it was pointless.

"Say goodbye to your wife... Lieutenant."

Time felt like it slowed down as you and Simon looked at each other. He looked angry and sad, but no doubt love. He loved you for everything you had given him, everything you had done for him. And if this was the last time he'd see you... then so be it. He was ready... and you didn't want that. You weren't ready to leave him; to say goodbye.

The wails that came from your muffled lips had you choking on the saliva that bubbled up in your throat. You wanted to vomit so bad.

"Close your eyes love," Simon told you. You didn't want to. God you didn't want to. But you couldn't stomach the thought of seeing him die right in front of you, so you shut your eyes tight and waited for the loud popping sound of Jax's gun to go off.

BANG!

The moment the loud pop echoed in the room, your eyes opened as you looked at the scene in front of you. And god, did you begin to wail as you saw your husband. He was slumped over in the chair. A bullet wound at his temple. Jax, who had taken a step toward you as he smiled, made you thrash in your restraints forcefully.

"When they find you... tell them Makarov said hello," he said as he snatched the tape off of your mouth. You couldn't help the loud cry that left your lips as you looked at him with pure hatred.

"Fuck you!!" you screamed, but it didn't even faze him.

He and the rest of the men walked out of the room, Andrei giving you a malicious wink before he shut the door. You couldn't help the loud cries that continued to come from your mouth as you sat there and looked at Simon.

He was dead.

God, you wanted to fucking die with him. The pain of knowing he was murdered all because of something that was bigger than this would haunt you forever.

20 minutes later, heavy footsteps rushed through the door, and you almost thought it was Jax and his men again until you realized that Price, Johnny, and Kyle had come in with their guns drawn.

But it was too late.

The moment they saw how distraught you were and looked at their comrade with his head hanging forward, they knew. The fucking knew that they were too late in rescuing both of you. Johnny kneeled down in front of Simon, putting his fore and middle finger against his neck to check for a pulse like he'd find one. "Fuck," he said as he looked up at the other two men.

Kyle rushed over to you and began to cut away at the ropes that tied you up, and the second you were free, you leaped out of the chair and ran to Simon, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried. He was cold.. ice cold damn near, but you held onto him like he would somehow take a breath of air.

But you knew he wouldn't, yet you still continued until Price tried to pull you off of him.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"No!" you yelled, "He can't leave me! He can't- He's gotta come back. We have to work through this! Please John... please wake him up!"

Fuck.

His sad eyes eventually met yours as he frowned, "I'm so sorry."

************************************************************************

Someone once told you in the past to read about the 5 Stages of Grief. You thought it was silly. What did you have to grieve about, when all you wanted was to be happy with your husband? You didn't think about that kind of stuff, especially when it came to him. But hell, did you wish you had picked up on a few things at least.

Denial.

Even with Simon being taken away when the police and corners arrived, you still couldn't believe he was gone. It was like you were waiting for him to come out of every corner to surprise you - like he did at the club. The first couple of days were the worst, as you would call his phone only to hear it ring on the nightstand next to you. The day of the funeral, you almost passed out twice from how everything hurt (physically and emotionally).

Anger.

The anger that flowed through your soul was more than knowing Simon cheated on you. It was more than knowing you cheated on him. You wanted to kill Jax. You wanted to make him pay for taking the love of your life. But you knew that was a crazy thought. It still didn't stop you from breaking things in your apartment - the glass of wine you were drinking out of, the vase on the side table. Days after the funeral, you quit your job because you couldn't stomach the thought of leaving your house because you were afraid and angry that Jax or Andrei would kidnap you again.

Bargaining.

You had no one to bargain with except whatever angels were up above to bring your husband back. And bargaining, you did. You begged and begged and begged like it would make a difference. You had even bargained for the universe to take you instead of Simon; to switch places with you.

Depression.

The worst phase you felt. You wanted to die. You thought about it so many times. It didn't make you feel better when you continued to go to counseling - for different reasons now. You just wanted to be with your husband again. The plaguing thoughts of taking a bunch of pills and never waking up crossed your mind so much during that phase.

Acceptance.

When things finally settled - and fuck did it take a while for that to happen - the only thing that had changed was knowing Simon wasn't going to come back by some miracle. Every other day (if not every day), Price, Johnny, or Kyle would come to check on you, along with Ava, who constantly brought dinner just to make sure you would eat.

It was heartbreaking. Simon was gone. It wasn't like you two had gone through the divorce, but he was gone from you forever.

But what hurt the most was the note you found in your husband's belongings when Johnny brought them from his office. Even he felt weird that they had cleaned out his space there, saying it wasn't right.

It was crushing to read it, and you cried in Johnny arms for a long time that he ended up putting you to bed and calling Ava to stay with you because he had to leave.

The note was written a few days before you were kidnapped. Simon once again apologized for everything that he did, the pain he caused you, and the deep love he expressed to you. He went into detail about his feelings and how he would die for you if it ever came to it.. Fuck it was like he had predicted his own death or something.

Why did life have to be so fucking cruel? Why were things the way they were? Just because you had accepted that he was gone didn't mean you were ever going to be over it. But you could only hope that somewhere up in the skies he was watching over you.

Not going to lie.. this was hard to write because I teared up proofreading this but let me know how you all like it!!

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[lovemyromance]

What do you think about the argument that azriel infantilizes elain?

I think people are using the word infantilizes very liberally, lol.

People like to argue that Azriel saying "Elain should not be exposed to the dangers of the trove" = Azriel infantilizes Elain.

And I want y'all to really think about that. Because that is C-R-A-Z-Y

There is a clear spectrum of protective behavior: being protective, being over-protective, infantilizing someone, and then being borderline abusive.

Antis like to claim Azriel is all of the above. They say he's "Like Tamlin" and "abusive" because....what....he didn't "let Elain scry?"

Let's repeat that over. Are we really claiming someone is ABUSIVE because they ONCE said "hey - I don't think someone should be exposed to this dangerous trove item" ....???

Is that so? Then Fuck, we better add Cassian to the list of abusers too then! Because he also immediately followed up Azriel's statement with "And Nesta should (be exposed to the dangers of the trove)?" Sounds like he has a problem with it too.

And honestly? They SHOULD be concerned about the safety of Nesta and Elain. They're out here trying to track down a dangerous object. The cauldron is literally a volatile crockpot that has harmed Elain before. Azriel being cautious over its proximity to Elain is not ABUSIVE, it is the LOGICAL response. He's the only one voicing some common sense in that room.

That is also the only time Azriel has even said anything about Elain getting involved. He's never stopped her from doing anything. It was Nesta who didn't want to get Elain involved, not Azriel.

Let me remind everyone that Azriel literally gave her Truthteller to use in ACOWAR. He gave up his most prized possession, one that nobody else has even touched in 500 years – and people are trying to tell me he infantilizes Elain? Newsflash: you don't hand infants weapons. It's not like Azriel gave her TT because it matched her fucking earrings. He gave her a weapon to use. To defend herself with, if needed. That should shut down any stupid argument of "he infantilizes Elain".

Azriel is protective of Elain. He is not infantilizing her.

Being protective is NOT a bad thing. And Elain is literally untrained, both in her powers, and her physical abilities. Azriel and Nesta being cautious about her safety is NECESSARY.

I don't know why people are acting like just because he's protective means he doesn't respect her. That he doesn't admire her. That is not the case. He has feelings for Elain, so it is natural he wants to keep her safe. It's not a hard fucking concept to grasp

[madreemeritus]

Guys have I ever commented about how both Youtube and Tiktok have the shittiest takes on Stolas? No? Then I will try to comment more often.

"I wonder why Octavia is mean to Stolas" because she's a teenager who doesn't know the truth about her parents' situation or the abuse her father went throught during 17+ years, that's why.

As Stolas antis are unable to recognize the MOST BASIC aspects of the story, let me just remind everything we know about Stolas and his relationship with his family:

(TW: MARITAL RAPE, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND HAVING TO EDUCATE STOLAS ANTIS FOR THE 100TH TIME)

1- emotionally and physically abused by his father

2- forced to marry an abusive person when he was a fucking child

3- raped multiple times by Stella before she got pregnant

4- TEEN FATHER. TEEN. FATHER. You know what a TEEN FATHER means? He was forced to be a father when he. was. A. TEEN.

5- spent 17 years surviving his wife's verbal, emotional and physical abuse FOR HIS DAUGTHER'S SAKE

6- took accountability when he realized his mistakes towards his daughter, and his mistakes were basically trying his best to make his daughter happy while being a literal survivor of parental abuse, domestic violence, SA and social isolation, literally a fucking normal human being trying his best and improving himself

7- is not only teaching her spells slowly and respecting her time, but also raising her as the teenager girl she is, and not as a 'legal adult' full of rich folk bullshit responsabilities as he was raised

"Stolas is a good dad" yes, media illiterate antis, he IS. He raised his daughter with love and care, he shield her from potential dangers (which came from her own mother), took accountability everytime he made a mistake with her, and sacrificed 17+ years in silence, surviving domestic violence, FOR HER. This is what a good parent does; loves, takes accountability and cares for their child, and as someone who has a very shitty dad who actually doesn't respect me or take accountability, I proudly affirm Stolas is doing great. You know what STELLA, an actual terrible parent, does? Abuses her husband in front of their kid and turns Via against her father. This is what a terrible parent does, oh but sorry I forgot she's the cisheteronormative woman who can do no wrong despite doing everything wrong maliciously.

Octavia acting like a teenager is absolutely in-character and justified. She doesn't have to know that her mother is an abuser, and this is why Stolas shield her from this hell, because he wanted her to have a normal fucking life. But the AUDIENCE? Grown adults who KNOW what is happening with Stolas and should understand how basic parenting works, acting like an angry teenager who hates Dada? Now that is just bad faith and urge to justify your hate boner against Stolas with the same stupid outdated arguments that were discussed a thousand times in this fandom.

For a man that was forced to have an abusive wife and a child at his teenage years, yes, he is a good father. He makes normal mistakes like any normal parent does. In LooLoo Land, he (unintentionally) ignored Via's discomfort because he was trying to cheer her up, trying to, as himself said, keep her away from their hostile house — whose hostility is Stella's fault. In Seeing Stars, he DOES NOT ignore Via nor forgot about the promise (he forgot the day, not the promise), he was busy standing up against his ABUSER. He asked for some minutes to finish his phone call, if Via had waited just a little bit longer, he would turn off the phone and listened to her. She didn't, because she's a kid with the trauma of growing up with an abusive mother and a closeted dad, again, in-character and understanding. But grown adults who were supposed to understand what is going on with Stolas having the same behaviour of a kid is hilariously telling a lot about how you react to this show.

Stolas makes the same mistakes Blitzø makes with Loona. Blitzø often infantilizes her to the point of being overprotective, and guess what? He also took accountability, because he, just like Stolas, is a good dad. And just like Lucifer as well. Buuuuut you don't really care about what is or what isnt a good father, you just want to yell about how much you hate Stolas. And the reason why you hate Stolas (at least one of the reasons) is because you can't understand basic shit about him.

Edit: by the way, let me show yall this print. It's so adorable. As irritating as Stolas's "sLaNdErInG" crowd is, the fandom always manage to make everything better. Let's smile more and think about the good things <3

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3: New Faces, New Job, New Everything.

Continuation to the Prolouge, Chapter 1 and 2.

Danny stares at Dante in absolute shock, Red Hood? RED HOOD?? OF ALL PEOPLE. Dante had to meet the rumored and probably the most violent of the Vigilantes. And Red Hood being a literal Crime Lord makes this worse.

"He had a fat ass to be hone-" Dante Blurted with a smirk but Danny cuts him off, "No, No. Shut up. I don't wanna hear your- or my- wait no. YOU'RE gay shenanigans." Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process the whole story.

"Let me get this.. straight-... You ... Ugh.... Ancients save me. YOU. MET. RED HOOD. AFTER. Beating up... Someone in his HAUNT?? And what do you mean he's a revenant? I thought frostbite said those were the "rare cases" of semi-halfas" Danny tries to clear up all the information in his head through just yelling it out.

"Yep." Dante popping the "P" and does not elaborate on anything else but a simple 'yep'.

"Kill me fully- wait... No. Jazz wouldn't want that." Danny reminded himself and took a deep breathe.

"I am so telling Clockwork." Danny spoke out.

"Oh come on! I'm in physical probation! I defended someone from getting bad things happen to them—" Danny cut him off.

"You can say "Fucked up shit" you know stop physically censoring yourself." Danny just stared at Dante with a judgemental face. Dante gasped dramatically like he's offended by that statement.

"OH WOW. It's not like I'm trying to 'Censor' myself because you're a traumatized 13 year old kid and I'm an adult given the responsibility of YOU cuz I love you like my brother." Dante states emphasizing every word.

"You sound like a drag queen." Danny blurts out

"I look better in pink anyways." Dante smirked smugly and Danny just frowned and sighed as Dante Ruffled his hair Mischievously.

"Don't you have a job interview today?" Danny grabbed his hand and gently places it away from his poor hair.

"I already got hired. They said I fit the job." Dante sounded very proud of himself before Danny blurts out "I think they hired you on the spot because you're Eye Candy."

Dante was stunned and thought about it for a moment.

Hmm.

"Yeah I suppose but that doesn't matter now, I have a normal job and people doesn't seem to be bothered by me at all so it's very good." Danny imagined that if Dante had a tail he'd be wagging it and Danny didn't like that mental image of a fucking CATBOY DAN- "UUUUUGHH! I hate that." He drags his palm on his face dramatically.

"And you Danny. Is coming with me to work. I am not leaving you in the apartment because. I will list it.

1. Someone might break in and you're not safe.

2. You might kill that someone either through ghost or through your tendencies to grab that goddamn creep stick and hit without hesitation.

3. I am not letting you play DOOMED for 7 hours straight, But I will let you play Minecraft.

4. You or well, We. Tend to roam away from home when we are bored, in this case you do. And ding ding ding we're in Gotham.

5. If you ever got into any danger. I would not worry if you're okay. I would worry if you killed someone first.

That's your list."

Dante started Loud and Clear.

"Fine but I get to bring both my phone and headphones with my switch." Danny Complied with a deal making Dante smile triumphantly, "Fine with me Twerp, and you better behave at the cafe." He chuckles and Pats Danny's Head Gently but still mischievously.

Danny also giggled, Danny's chest felt warm. And his core buzzed in familiar happiness as Dante and Danny Pressed their foreheads into each other before Dante pats Danny's shoulder and stands back up with a groan.

"Let's go kid, get ready now." Dante stretched his body and cracks some of his "old bones" as Danny heads to his bedroom and takes his sling bag and puts his 'neccesities' inside with a smile.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tim heard about a new Cafe opening nearby Gotham U, although at first he was suspicious of how so many people are already visiting it and even the lines reach outside. He soon found out why. One of their workers was rumored to be apparently "eye candy" or whatever they called people who are very attractive.

This worker was the main Barista and he apparently makes the drinks Infront of the people and he was good at it.

That got Tim even more curious, How attractive does someone have to be that people of all genders are lining up on a new store as if a celebrity is inside. And so he decided to wait in line like any other student as to not direct any attention to himself because that would be utterly humiliating for him.

He waited.....

And waited....

And kept Waiting and Waiting....

Until finally, what felt like an eternity he finally got to order His Coffee.

It seems the rumors are true, the bartender is indeed attractive. Tim got even more curious about how the big man seemed to have canine sharp teeth, oddly pale complexion that almost looks... Purple? And Lazarus Green Water with Red Rims.

"An Americano with two shots please.." He states to the Cashier, "And name please?" The Cashier asks again.

"Timothy." He calmly tells her as she writes it down to a receipt and hands it to the orders That the "Eye Candy" Man and Another Worker was Making.

Tim sat on a nearby table. It was the only table that happened to be empty. Except a 13 years old kid just sitting there playing... Minecraft? Okay-.

The kid stared at Tim, Tim stares back. 'He looks like adoption Bait.' Tim thinks to himself then suddenly he slowly feels weird, as if he's being judged intensely, Unfortunately and possibly even worse than how Damian judges him.

"You look like an overworked 9-5 office worker that has no paid vacations or time off for a student." the kid suddenly speaks out and it felt as though Tim had just been shot with a non-existent arrow of truth.

"Wha-" Tim tries to ask but the kid interrupts him before he could even start, "you should really get some sleep and maybe lessen your intake of Coffee... Ah right. Name's Danny by the way. Sorry. You just started staring at me so I couldn't help but state my opinion." The kid, or well... Danny said as he went back to playing Minecraft on his switch.

"I- it's... It's fine. I know I need sleep... All college students do- it's normal." Timothy just sighs and nods subtly, knowing full well this random kid is right.

Goddamit, the kid acts like Damian a bit too- and he has the typical black hair blue eyes appearance, possibly an orphan attitude. Tim continues to have a subtle Life Crisis in his head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'Such a weird person.' Danny thought to himself and chuckled softly.

He continues to play Minecraft with Tucker and Sam to Pass his time and so he doesn't go all deppreso mid-daylight. The amount of people entering the cafe was still... Concerning at the very least, now that the customers have heard Dante's voice... They started to call him the "Everything in one Package." Which was way worse than "Eye Candy" to be honest.

'Vlad would be confused and shocked.... I wonder how Ellie is doing.. hopefully not too bad....' Danny hums to himself as he made a gravesite ingame for Jazz to remember her by.

It has become tradition for these teens to make jazz a gravesite whenever they start a new world and they always made sure it's beautiful and colorful in a way Jazz would have liked it.

Danny smiled as he finished up the ingame Gravesite.

Although it hurts to see and do this every time, he still loves it because then he has something to remind him of her existence.

Her precious Existence as he likes to call it.

"I miss her so much..." He mutters to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm so... Tired." Dante was plopped onto the couch lazily.

"I am scared to be an adult like you..." Danny just stared at Dante as he Begrudgingly sat back up from the couch to stretch his body and head to the kitchen to cook.

"I met a random older student today, we kinda talked. He called me adoption bait which was funny because technically I am considering V l a d." Danny laughed.

"Adoption Bait my ass, who would want to adopt a little messy homeless looking goblin." Dante just chuckled smugly and Danny Pouts. " I am not a homeless looking kid" he tries to defend himself "that's the thing you're most concerned about in my sentence?" Dante tucked his hair back into a tight Ponytail and let's it flow naturally like fire.

"I know I'm a goblin, it's just how I am." Danny proudly says and pats his chest and puffs it out with pride.

"Ofcourse you do... Ah right. Kiddo I have a surprise for you tomorrow. So make sure to get enough sleep today alright?" Dante kneels down to Danny's Height to speak to him properly.

Danny thinks for a second, "Sure! I like surprises!" Danny giggled nodded profusely in excitement.

"Good." Dante smiled softly, he loves it when Danny is happy. His core loves when Danny is also happy. A happy Danny is a happy Dante.

He wishes this could go on forever. Just Danny smiling and not screaming for his life in his nightmares.

My Arm is cold from writing this <33

Enjoy though.

[hyperfixingfr]

I'm putting this in the tags for the people who are sending me rude asks. Please do the mature thing and just don't send me nasty things. Thanks.

For the last time since I keep getting nasty fucking asks about it insulting me and calling me names; I am not tryna run none of you people outta this damn fandom and that was never my goal so quit playing victim and pretending I am. This is a fandom for everyone, obviously... Which is why I criticize when you guys treat it like it isn't. I was trying countless times yesterday to drop the conversation when the person arguing with me kept insisting that they had an issue with me talking about an aspect they didn't like, because they were arguing with me over an opinion I had that they didn't like, not over something that mattered. This aspect personally affected me, and many others in the server. This isn't an aspect I enjoy people pretending is cute or funny because it caused very, very real damage to things like body positivity. I don't try to fight with ANYONE here, ever. My entire goal in these situations is to educate when someone believes this is bad behavior by explaining why it's problematic to gloss over this aspect or glorify it when it was a very real issue. Please, ask yourself why you're beefing with a minor. I beg of you. This person had no intention to listen to me, OR the server owner, when we told them that they can have different opinions and simply ignore it if they don't like it. They also ignored the countless attempts at de-escalating the situation, proving they just wanted to argue about it.

I should also mention this person said some really nasty things that implied I was apart of cancel culture, or on the "everything is problematic" bandwagon which is kind of implying they think that criticizing bigotry is wrong, even when it's coming from the minority group it affected. My criticizing of a media is not disliking of a media, nor is it "cancel culture". I am not trying to CANCEL a show from the 2000s. I am merely pointing out its flaws. If you can't handle being apart of a morally flawed show's fandom, don't be apart of it. Not only that, but this person made passive aggressive comments such as "wow you ramble a lot" completely unnecessarily when I was speaking. Why was this needed? I know I do. Why are you trying to insinuate that my passion about the subject is weird? Either way, I wasn't trying to have this fight. They were. This person said a lot of insensitive things to me, claiming I pulled the autism card when I rebuttaled the "wow you ramble a lot" stuff, telling me they had an issue with me merely discussing a topic that was 100% allowed in the server (stated by the server owner, the channel was allowed for criticism), and was overall very passionate about putting me in the wrong for simply pointing out and discussing the flaws of a show because it was brought up. That's not okay and that's incredibly judgy. I dunno why this person can't admit they're wrong, but it's not hard to understand that my criticism is not unwarranted nor is it unwelcome. I did nothing wrong by speaking about it in a channel that directly said criticism was allowed.

Do not play victim when you started the argument AND fueled the argument when people tried to stop it. Simple as. I'm really hoping this person realizes they're wrong and apologizes appropriately like a mature adult, because this is ridiculous. This is such a stupid thing for them to have fought me over and no one's gonna be upset if they just... Did the right thing and apologize. This applies to ANY of you who mess up. If you mess up and realize you've done something you shouldn't have, just apologize man. Especially in a case like this where the person was arguing over "toma-to, tamato-e" or whatever. They didn't like my WARRENTED opinion and they got on my ass about it repeatedly, and I got nothing out of asking them why they held it because their response was basically "you don't like this media how I like it, so you can't possibly like it, get out". Hence, them asking why I'm in a server of fans if I... "Don't like the show". Simply because I criticized an aspect.

Please, if any of you don't believe me, the server is open for the public. You can go in there and see the conversation yourself. I am not hiding myself at all from this, and I'm glad to share evidence that I did just as I said and they did just as I said. This is a stupid fvking argument and any of you still dragging it on should be ashamed for thinking this is worth arguing about. People have opinions, leave it at that. What happened to respecting valid stances?

[brendaareiss]

CAL AND ANDRE HEADCANONS! Finally! I feel like there's some I have already said b4, but idk. Enjoy!

⚠️Triggers⚠️: SA, SH

- Andre furrowed his brows when he was concentrated, Cal poked his tongue out

- Andre was actually a great student. That's why most of the people didn't like him either, whether being because of envy or because they saw him as a nerd and annoying. But bro had +A on everything

- Cal on the other hand, was pathetic at studies. His best ever grade was a C

- They didn't actually hold hands most of the time, just intertwine pinkies unconsciously

-Cal always followed andre everywhere. It was not even a conscious act.

- They both talked shit abt their siblings

- Andre=bpd + psicopathy

- Cal= adhd + depression (duh).

- Andre paid attention on the smallest details and had rlly good memory. Like, something stupid Cal said years ago, andre remembered it like it was yesterday. Or he knew what things Cal liked or not, even if Cal hasn't told him, he knew it because he paid attention to what Cal was doing

- Cal was a chronic nail biter. Rachel tried putting nail polish on him to make it better, because Cal reached the point where his whole finger was covered in blood

-Cal has had many addictions in his life. It was all because his depression, he couldn't get happiness (dopamine) in anything in his life so he tried to get it somewhere else. That's why he started doing weed at a young age, well, until the possession charge. After that, he went straight to cutting. It wasn't as good as to get high, but at least it worked and wasn't illegal. He used to get blackout drunk too, trying to get dopamine from where he could.

- U can't tell me they didn't explore each other's bodies. Ofc they did (I like to think they would refer to that as "favors"), but they never rlly knew what the fuck they were. Were they boyfriends? Were they just friends with benefits? That's actually where the term "the army of two" appeared, trying to give what they had a tag or a "name". But they knew rlly well they weren't just friends. They knew each other too much, they were too similar and too connected to be just friends.

- Cal was sa'd from when he was 7 years old until he was 14 by his cousin, who was 8 years older than him. He never told anything to anyone, not even Andre, but he eventually figured it out. He was paranoid and very protective with his siblings (even though he didn't like them, it doesn't mean that they weren't siblings, Cal cared for them a lot), making sure his cousin NEVER approached them. And if someone older talked to them he would get rlly anxious and freaked out.

- Andre always cared too much about Cal. He knew the state of Cal's mental health and physical health (anemic ass) so he always was there for him. And I like to think not only andre, but his family too. Feeding him until Cal couldn't physically bring the fork to his mouth (I'm sure Andre's mom would be the one to say: "Cal, you have to eat more! You're so thin!")

- Andre was not always seen with the Gabriel's (because Cal's sister HATES andre with all her guts) but Calvin was ALWAYS seen with the kriegman's. Andre's dad always knew that when he mentioned "family vacation/trip", Cal was tagging along.

-Cal learned to stay calm when Andre had his bpd splits (extreme anger most of the time). There was a time when he actually felt rlly bad when Andre said what things to him or just screamed and pushed him around, but as time passed, he learned it was just another normal thing on Andre. That's why in the car scene, he at first didn't take him seriously, he then shut the fuck up and tried to get out of the situation as quickly as he could afterwards.

- Andre never really knew what the fuck was wrong with him. He wasn't like Cal, he didn't get diagnosed with shit and didn't even went to a psychologist. He thought he was just really aggressive and nothing more.

- Andre was low-key an alcoholic. He never got blackout drunk though

- The only thing Andre didn't clean, was his car. Maybe once in a month (or a week if there where a lot of empty beer cans in the back seats)

- Cal rlly liked sour candies.

- Andre slept A LOT.

- idk if I said this b4 but Andre's hand was always on Cal's thigh while he drove

- most of their hangouts were sleepovers. They seriously couldn't live without each other

- OF COURSE the reason why andre didn't like Rachel it's because he was EXTREMELY jealous of her. He felt like she was taking Cal away from him. He also felt that she talked shit about Cal when he wasn't there. The night Cal ditched Rachel for him, Andre's ego was 100% fueled

- Andre had migraine. Yeah. He didn't throw up though

- Following, andre NEVER puked. Like, he probably just threw up 1 time in his life. Cal on the other hand, every time he got sick, he vomited.

-Cal ALWAYS forgot his things EVERYWHERE. His parents didn't even make him his own keys, because they knew Cal would probably lose them too.

- As kids, Cal adored sharks and Andre lions and bears. (Cal adored sharks all his life though)

- Andre's grandparents who lived in Germany, had a bigass house with a garden. They had ALSO, a bigass dog. Of course Andre as a kid spent most of the time in the garden, playing with his brother and the dog.

- The only thing that made Andre calm down when he was angry, was changing the situation, making him forget about it, talking about another thing or doing another thing that isn't related to the reason he's mad. Distract him and make him forget why he was mad in the first place.

[brokenpieces-72]

Platform

Choo Choo Charles cod crossover | Navigation

You had finished the repairs and started trekking up the hill to your cabin. Tired and trying to keep your emotions straight. It was hard to take it so straight and forward.

When you reached the top you found the captain on the front porch. He was posted up, keeping a look out. You straightened seeing him. Military, no slacking. Someone was taking you seriously for once in a long time. You went over to him, leaning your gun against the wall of the building.

“Thank you.” You said.

“Well haven’t done anything yet.” Price pointed out. His body seemed to relax at the sight of you.

“You have. You believed me.” You said. “That’s something.”

The rain continued to pour, making sleep even more tempting. There was a question that had been repeating in your mind since the middle of your repairs.

“Did he… um… how…” you started but then hesitated. You didn't want to cry in front of him. Price waited letting you get the question out. “Uh… did… the body, where…”

“We moved him off the tracks, and buried him in branches.” Price admitted. You nodded and took some deep breaths, shifting from foot to foot.

“How is your wound?” He asked. You shrugged, and let out a choked “I don’t know” trying to avoid tears. Price could tell she’d been tearing herself apart trying to get help and sort out everything so she could destroy the thing. Your one ally had been lost and replaced with four strangers. Price could understand your plight.

“Sit down,” he said. You looked at him confused. “Sit, that’s an order.”

You sat down, and rolled up your pant leg for him. You winced as he unwrapped it and saw the stitches. Not bad for someone who was doing it free handed. Price retrieved some first aid supplies, taking time to clean it a bit. You winced and groaned a bit.

“Fuck.” You muttered, gritting your teeth.

“It’s just alcohol.” Price said.

“Still fucking hurts.” You pouted.

“Eugene ever serve?” Price asked. You nodded.

“I think so. Back at his cabin he had a couple medals. A purple heart, I think.” You said, while Price started to wrap the wound back up. Didn’t need a splint thankfully. “I should tell you, you’ve allied yourself with a problem.”

Price finished wrapping the wound. “Aligned myself with enemies before.”

“No I mean… I called for help but I didn’t tell you I’m public enemy number three basically. The cult, Warren and Charles are-“ you stopped talking as soon as you heard a train whistle, head snapping immediately to where it came from. Price stood up, getting you to your feet, while you continued to scan the treeline, another one sounding. The two of you got inside quick, and the rest of the guys were woken up, reaching for weapons.

“Get away from the door.” You instructed. “Close it!”

Kyle shut the back one, while Price got you to lean against the wall, and shut the front. You noticed Simon posting up at the window. His aim was on the scuttling locomotive, as it came closer and closer. “Don’t bother.”

Simon side eyed you but kept his aim. You said more quietly, “Seriously please don’t bother.”

Price debated ordering the shot to be taken or not, until Simon made his own decision. The shot was fired and right between the horrific gore framed white eyes of the demonic creature. It missed by an inch, and hit the eye. The creature scuttled around the house, loud with teeth gnashing and a wet chittering. Simon pulled back and avoided the sightline of the window. You limped to the middle of the room, reaching whatever bed was closest before sitting down. The monster’s steps seemed to shake the building, the spider legs almost pounding the hard earth. The men were tense while you bounced your good leg, hands clasped and muttering something. Everyone was still, guns at the ready, while you looked almost unbothered by the horror outside. They could make out wood scratching as well but it was minor. Like a dog pawing at a door. Thankfully the blood curdling noises distanced from the cabin, as Charles finally left them all in peace. The men kept alert.

“Soap, Check the window.” Price ordered. Johnny almost wanted to tell the captain to check himself. He pressed into the wall, watching out the window. Charles disappeared back into the tall misty trees, to where, none of them knew. When to return? If only he wouldn’t.

“It’s gone… Charles doesn’t break into houses for some reason. Part of why I’m still here.” You said, staring at your newly bandaged leg.

“How long has that thing been around here?” Kyle asked.

“Uhh…pffftt… a few months.” You guessed. “Came around the beginning of summer, my dad was one of the miners who found it but when he went to destroy the egg those cultist assholes decided he’d make a good offering.”

The room went silent again, thinking back to Eugene. This kid had lost not only their friend, but your father too. Price wasn’t about to let you fight this alone. You needed help.

“Alright listen up.” Price announced. Each one of them turned to look at him. “If you’ve rested, good, keep watch. If you haven’t get some. Need food, we’ve brought rations. Once we’re ready, we start planning our next move. Let’s get to it.”

You woke up, and reached for your water bottle. Yep, it was morning, and it was chilly. Getting some pain killers in you, you sipped some more water and stretched as much as you could. Two of the men were still in the cabin, Price and Kyle. You slowly got up and put the kettle on, getting a pack of oatmeal. It was like any other morning of shuffling around, half awake. You went to another room, getting changed along with putting on a coat and beanie, shivering a little. The cold helped you wake up. The kettle whistled loudly, waking you the rest of the way. A bowl, and pouring oats and water, dunk in a spoon and she had her breakfast, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Sleep okay?” Kyle asked, politely. You nodded, mouth full of oatmeal. The door to the cabin opened and Johnny walked in with a folded up map.

“Am I allowed to ask your names?” You asked aloud.

“Why wouldnya?” Soap asked.

“You guys are SAS, isn’t that like secret services or something? I mean I’m not gonna fish for government secrets or anything unless Area 51 gets involved, then again you guys are British, well mostly. Sorry I’m rambling.” You said, going back to focusing on the food. “I’m sober I swear.”

“Johnny MacTavish, just call me Soap.” Johnny said. Oh this kid was a mess.

“You’re both John?” You asked looking between him and Price.

“Kyle Garrick. Can call me Gaz.” Kyle piped up. “You know the captain.”

“What about the guy with the mask?” You asked. As if on cue the guy with the mask walked in.

“Ghost.” Soap answered. Ghost looked up hearing his callsign and then looked at you, who jumped hearing him speak. Certainly a fitting name. You swallowed your mouthful, a little forcefully.

Once you finished your breakfast and got changed into cleaner clothes. You returned to the main space, where Price stood next to your conspiracy wall. He went over the plan, giving a briefing for finding the eggs, with you explaining where they were located and how the mob worked. You unfortunately couldn't track exact shifts, nor where all of them went for sleeping and eating, but you assumed it was inside the mines.

"I'll need more scraps if the trains are to pull through a charles attack. I can increase the speed and armour. People around here need some help though, so it might mean getting some errands done in order to get enough. A few of them also have weapons which with enough time can do some extra damage." You explained.

"Four men in that engine will be tight." Ghost commented. You didn't like that number.

"It would be three and two. There are two engines." You corrected. The room was quiet for a moment, and before Price could open his mouth, you spoke up. "I'm going with you. That is not up for debate."

"It'll be dangerous." Kyle reminded you. Thank you sergeant obvious, you thought.

"Your leg is fucked up, Y/N." Price said. "That is a good way to get yourself killed."

"So is letting you all go without some level of a guide. I know this island, and I know the people. They want out of this place as much as I do, but Charles is still out there. Not about to sit back and watch as every fucking thing I've done leads to nothing." You said firmly. You weren't about to be sidelined. The silence was deafening as the four men seemed to think they would have any say in the matter. For good measure you added, "And I have the keys to my engine in the shed."

Price considered it for a moment before realizing you were not gonna let this go. Your stubbornness reminded him of Farah's determination. Right now you were running on fumes, grief and some oatmeal. The look you had in your eyes told him you could be running on good sleep and good food, and your drive would still hold strong.

"Stay off your leg as much as possible, and stay safe. If we lose you we lose our intel." Price said. You nodded. He looked among his men, seeing them determined and ready. "Out here."

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[bishopony]

Ohhh buddy I have THOUGHTS (This is so long, I'm so sorry)

1. I actually like Twilight better as a unicorn, she should never have became an Alicorn. (And that's coming from someone who first started watching around S5)

2. However, if Twilight becomes an Alicorn then all the Mane 6 should have been Alicorns. Rainbow, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity did just as much as Twilight! Where are their wings/horns?

(That would have been awesome for the rest of the series!)

3. You are 100% right the tree castle is horrible. It's so barren and empty and so clearly made to sell toys. The library was nice and cozy and fit Twilight perfectly.

4. I absolutely hate redeemed Starlight Glimmer. Words cannot describe how much I despise this mare. You mean to tell me Twilight would throw a child into hell but let Starlight I-broke-space-time Glimmer go?? Absolutely not.

(Sunset Shimmer is a thousand times better and everything Starlight wishes she could be)

5. I actually like that Cozy Glow doesn’t have a backstory. Sometimes villains are just evil to be evil.

That being said, they should have at least tried to reform Cozy Glow. At the bare minimum put her somewhere other than (I can't stress this enough) PONY HELL!! She's like 12 Twilight holy shit-

6. Not enough people read the G4 comics. In fact, you should stop reading this ask and go read the comics instead. Most of them are online for free. I recommend The Return of Queen Chrysalis (1-4), Reflections (17-20), and Siege of the Crystal Empire (31-34).

7. MLP G5 isn't actually that bad, but it took too long to get off the ground. By the time it went from mediocre to good, most people didn't care. (Also Hasbro got greedy and G5 paid the price, but that's a rant for another day)

Also G5 should have been it's own thing, with no ties to G4.

8. Celestia and Luna should not have retired. Celestia I can understand, but Luna? Poor Luna just got back to Earth (or whatever the planet's called), no way is she retiring like 5 years in.

9. The CMC all having the same cutie mark was dumb. (And felt like a cop-out. Let my girls be unique!) Also the cutie mark designs themselves are just the ugliest things ever. Did no one teach that designer color theory??

10. King Sombra is best villain. However they should have picked literally anyone else to voice him in Season 9. Or even have the VA do a different voice! It's not even a bad voice, it's just not King Sombra's voice.

11. The Apples and the Pies are not related. Let me ship Marble Pie and Big Mac in peace. Let people ship Applejack and Pinkie Pie in peace.

12. Sugar Belle and Big Mac are a terrible couple. Maybe they were fine off-screen, but all we see is miscommunication. The only way that marriage is ending is in divorce.

13. I actually like that EQG used pony skin tones instead of human ones. That being said, there was way too much whitewashing—just use the pony's actual coat colors. I promise you can give Luna dark blue skin and it'll be fine. (How the fuck did Habro make the character with literally white skin even whiter?? HOW?? WHY???)

14. And finally (holds up megaphone): Just because Applejack and Rainbow Dash were seen together in the end, that doesn’t automatically mean they’re a couple!!!! —Sincerely, someone who thinks AJ and Rainbow are too similar to be a couple.

Ooooo ok cool I also have some thoughts LMAO. long post so read under the cut

I also like Twilight as a unicorn more than an alicorn but I do think it was right for her to become one since it was the climax of her character arc. The problem is that the show was meant to end after she became an alicorn and it went on for several more season :,) I think she was an alicorn for far too long

Not really sure I agree with this since it was only Twilight's destiny to become an alicorn. While it would've been cool to see them as alicorns and the whole mane 6 put forth equal effort to saving equestria, it just wasn't meant to be lol.

i saw someone's AU where the castle looked more like the student 6's tree of harmony and I like that a lot more, THAT'S how you design a crystal tree house ^^'

I like Starlight Glimmer and her unconventional approaches to problem solving, but man she did get off way easy for nearly destroying the world. I mean, idk, community service or something? Also why is Cozy Glow, a child, in pony hell? Why was she trapped in stone? How did the writers think that was an appropriate punishment but other characters like Starlight and Discord get redemptions? ToT

agreeing, no extra notes lol

I have a few of them! I've read the Nightmare Rarity and mirrorverse ones, I really love the comics

Agree with this one as well. G5's issues all come from Hasbro wanting to make even more money off of G4 and not allowing G5 to be its own thing like it should have. Hasbro, a toy company, should have made way more collectible G5 merch instead of the same cheap brushables of the same 4 characters over and over. I also saw someone on twitter make a good point that the G5 show should've aired on disney+ instead of netflix since that's what most families have nowadays. truly, G5 is just a victim of corporate greed

Yeah I always felt bad for Luna for that lol. If Celestia wants to retire good for her, but at least Luna should've have stuck around and helped Twilight. Can't image Ruler of Equestria is something you just get used to immediately, esp as one person instead of two like before

Totally agree, no extra notes

He's not my favorite villain, but he is fun, and they could've gotten a better VA for him lol. Or at least changed the direction for his voice? The VA is skilled and sounds good but the voice was a little too smooth IMO.

Yeah it was never actually confirmed so it's not canon. I wouldn't worry about shipping them cause the show writers clearly don't care lol

It's kind of forced imo. They're two random characters and I think they just wanted to use Sugar Belle again. I don't remember that episode well but ig discord was stopping them from seeing each other? idk they should've just gone straight to each other. just not anything I'm invested in

Agreed, they should've had their actual pony colors if they're not gonna have realistic skin. It was weird that rarity became pure white and luna was lightened so heavily. and why is celestia pink. if they were trying to avoid racially coding the characters they certainly failed that cause it just implies that they're all white

I think some of the writers said it was canon? Or at least implied since hasbro wouldn't let them confirm it outright. I don't like appledash either way, and can just pretend it isn't real lol.

[omamervt]

I think. Idk I think it's time we got a little perspective refresh. Idk how we get people to stop chasing the scent of blood, but it's gotta happen somehow.

Like. there's this Minecraft youtuber who I don't really follow but his videos show up recommended sometimes and he's funny, really deadpan, dry humor, my kind of thing, you know? Couldn't tell you his channel name off the top of my head though. Handsome Fella or something like that. Guess it doesn't matter that much.

Anyway I saw like, a week or so ago as I was uploading some TikToks that there were people talking about his "downfall" and how they knew there was something up with him and like. I looked into it? Dude had cheated on his girlfriend. 90% of the time when we're talking about a Minecraft Youtuber that sentence is followed by "with a minor," but no in this guy's case it was a) with another adult and b) didn't even sound like a successful attempt.

Like, dude's a terrible role model obviously but the way people were talking about him you'd think he was just as bad as Dream.

And like, I shouldn't be surprised with that. John Mulaney was treated the same, if not worse, when he divorced his wife and went to rehab. But I also don't think divorcing your wife, who you previously had a very positive relationship with, due to things you did that got you sent to rehab is necessarily a reason to treat someone like a monster. You know?

But what did surprise and upset me is that a couple days ago, I saw a Twitch streamer blow up on TikTok showing off her figurine collection, and then she responded to a comment saying, "can't wait to hear the allegations against you!" Like, are we REALLY at a point where we're all EXCITED at the possibility of people getting hurt, just so we have an excuse to tear someone else down?

That's like, really fucked up.

[thequeefdealer]

My friends said they hate my new hair, so I'm not going to show myself to anyone who isn't gay ever again

[zivazivc]

this came to me in a dream

Floyd's emo ass and a techno troll could make scene kids...! Do you see my vision??? . . . Ravin is Happy Hardcore and Eddy M is Synth-Pop, that's how troll genetics work, right?

anyway...

i don't think floyd leads a proud life

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[torybrennan]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw