#sorry quite fond of Benny

[f0ntainefuturistics]

I’m cringe but I’m free

Oc x canon w Benny fallout I’m gonna kms

[lovebugism]

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

happy father’s day to wayne munson 💕

excerpt from gone away, my love letter to wayne…

Miss Dunham, the teacher’s aide, opened the front door for him as he ran, heart pounding, toward the building. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” she greeted him cheerfully. She didn’t sound angry. “Eddie’s waiting for you in the Activity Room. I’ll show you where it is.” She chatted to him as they walked through the school, telling him that Eddie had a good day, he was a very bright and sweet boy— Wayne already knew that, but it still made him happy to hear it— and, most importantly, that a few of the teachers ran an after-school daycare program for kids whose parents both worked. “Or guardians,” she added hastily, glancing at him. “I don’t know if that’s something you’d be interested in, but if so you could enroll Eddie any time during the year.” Wayne assured her he would definitely be interested.

He eagerly scans the room for his nephew as soon as Miss Dunham pushes the door open, and his heart does something funny in his chest when he catches sight of the boy. Something that he’s fairly sure a flowery dime store novelist would describe as “leaped for joy”. Eddie is sitting at a small table with a few other kids, all of them coloring pictures of what looks like Halloween monsters. A brief half-formed thought about costumes flutters through his head, but it completely vanishes when Eddie catches sight of him and his entire face lights up with a huge smile. He jumps up, nearly knocking his chair over, and Wayne is dropping to his knees before he even realizes what he’s doing, holding out his arms to catch Eddie as the little boy flings himself wildly at him.

“Hey, little darlin’,” he murmurs into his nephew’s curly hair. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I got here as quick as I could, honest.”

“‘S’okay,” Eddie whispers, and Wayne squeezes him a little tighter before letting go. Miss Dunham is watching them with a fond smile. He breathes a sigh of relief; he hasn’t messed up too badly. “Ready to go?” he asks, and Eddie nods happily, rushing to grab his jacket and backpack. He whispers a goodbye to the kids he was sitting with, and Wayne’s heart does the funny leap again at the kids’ friendly sounding chorus of “bye, Eddie!” with smiles and waves. It leaps even harder when Eddie thanks Miss Dunham on their way out.

He wonders briefly if it’s odd to feel so much pride— after all, he wasn’t the one who taught the boy those nice manners— but he can’t help the warm glow that washes over him when Eddie reaches up to take hold of his hand. He decides to quit trying to figure it out and just enjoy it.

“I’m sorry I was so late,” he apologizes again as he leans into the car to buckle Eddie’s seatbelt. “Be honest, now,” he adds, “did you think ol’ Uncle Wayne forgot you?”

“I didn’t think you forgot,” Eddie says quietly. His lower lip quivers as he continues, “But I was scared something bad happened to you.”

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen to me, little darlin’. I’m fixin’ to be around for a long time.” He gently wipes away the single tear that escaped with his thumb. “But I’m sorry I made you scared.” He slides behind the wheel, and catches his nephew’s eye in the rear view mirror. “I’m usually real good at keeping promises. I feel bad that I promised you I’d be here and then I wasn’t. Will you let me try again tomorrow?” And Wayne’s heart does that strange leap of joy again when Eddie smiles and nods.

As they’re passing Benny’s diner he has a sudden impulse, and pulls into the parking lot. “I think your very first day of school deserves a little celebration, don’t you? Let’s get some ice cream and you can tell me all about it. Sound good?”

“Sounds real good,” Eddie agrees. He’s barely out of the car when Wayne has another sudden impulse. He pounces, lifting Eddie up high and swinging him in circles. The little boy’s delighted squeals and giggles fill the air and Wayne’s ears and an empty place in his heart he hadn’t even realized was there.

[honorhearted]

"University?" Caleb echoed. "Weeeell, what a coincidence! Tallboy here got into quite a bit o' trouble with- ow!" Rubbing his arm from where he'd been struck, the whaler huffed before setting his half-spilt whiskey onto the table. "Tough crowd," he muttered. "I guess I'll hafta tell ya later, Frannie...unless Benny-boy murders me beforehand."

"He's joking," Ben quickly assured Nathaniel and Francesca. "Or if nothing else, he's clearly trying to get me into trouble."

Caleb sneered. "I ain't tryin' at all," he replied. "You're diggin' your own hole jus' fine on your own!"

Grateful when the topic switched back to Jeffrey and Annie, Ben watched Francesca's face as her features melded into fondness, melancholia, and then a reserved resignation. He, too, missed the bright-eyed, mischievous children -- perhaps far more than what was acceptable. They were not his son and daughter, and yet oftentimes he'd imagined as such; he'd pretended Francesca was his wife, and that the four of them were traversing across the sea in search of a better life.

With a lump in his throat, he smiled almost shyly at Francesca's observation and shook his head, squirming beneath everyone's gaze. "I don't know if they adored me," Ben said, "but I certainly adored them. And Frannie -- er, Miss Bridgerton -- earned the admiration of the young boy."

"No small feat," Caleb agreed. "That lad wasn't easy to please."

This wasn't entirely true, but Ben would never disagree about Francesca's positive impact on the boy, so he nodded, beaming with a hint of pride. "I imagine -- nay, I know she will make a fine mother someday."

Nathaniel looked between them quizzically. "Has Miss Francesca not been married for four years? She is not yet a mother?"

All at once, mortified realization speared through Ben and he flinched as though struck, his hands opening and closing as he apologized, "I'm so sorry, Father, I...I lacked the foresight to tell you of Lord Stirling's passing. It's why Caleb and I sailed overseas to visit in the first place."

Nathaniel's expression took on a knowing quality that Ben immediately disliked -- could his father see through the veneer of his intentions? -- but he grew relieved once the reverend said, "You must forgive my short-sightedness, Miss Bridgerton. I am accustomed to speaking my mind, and in the process, I suppose I must have lost it for a moment."

From the side of his mouth, Ben wryly asked, "Are you sure you won't take that drink?"

"No, not too much older,” Francesca agreed, although she could not be certain if that were true – The Bridgerton boys had gotten into bouts of mischief at every possible age, to their mother’s exasperation and Francesca’s endless amusement. “Although I have heard some horror stories of their time at University.”

Such stories that she would not repeat in front of Ben’s father at any rate – It seemed that the Bridgertons were famed at Oxford for their drunken misconduct. With Gregory starting there in September, Francesca only hoped that he would not follow too closely in their footsteps.

Ben and Caleb’s back-and-forth routine had become common to Francesca now, her gaze darting between them as they shot their remarks. It was not until Caleb chose to include her in his question that her lips parted, an incredulous laugh escaping. “I don’t-”

But then they had moved on, the mention of Jeffrey and Annie drastically altering the mood of each person present. It left a hollow ache in Francesca’s chest, a fondness too, but Nathaniel seemed rather pleased with the information as he questioned her on her own siblings.

“Well, I spent five years as the youngest before my brother was born, so I quite enjoyed taking care of him. And of course my older brothers and sister have children of their own, so there is no shortage of little ones running around my mother’s house.” Not that Violet would ever complain – Her greatest joy, aside from being a mother, was being a grandmother. “I grew rather attached to the children onboard - They were such characters, and utterly adored Ben.”

She only hoped that they were enjoying themselves back in New York, most likely chatting away on the arm of their father. It filled her with longing, a desperate yearning for her own family to love – Such feelings had been easier to ignore back in Kilmartin.

The schoolhouse. Of course Francesca had thought about Ben’s teaching, had been excited to learn of the school in which he opened, yet it suddenly seemed an uncertainty now that they were here. Was she expected to go back to England once the school season started up, or would she accompany him to Connecticut? They could not live together. How on earth had she not thought this through?

Her gaze moved from the hearth to Ben, hearing the new argument that had started between the men and yet not registering the words, before exchanging a glance with Nathaniel, a soft smile curving onto her lips to hide the anxiety that was starting to bubble inside.

[winchestershiresauce]

Menace

Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

NSFW, explicit smut inside - 18+ only! 

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), squirting, the tearing of panties, sex on a countertop, unprotected PIV, established relationship

~2k words 

--

Feeling comfortably full after a good meal and better conversation, your eyelids had just begun to feel heavy when you decided to clear the dishes from the table. As you stood, you gave Santi a soft smile when he began to stack the plates of those around him. The rest of the guys continued talking and your heart filled with warmth as you watched Frankie animatedly tell the story of the time he’d lost track of Benny in the crowd at the local car show. 

You carried the dishes to the kitchen, laughing quietly to yourself when you heard Benny pipe up and vehemently defend his decision to wander off while Frankie was busy with his head under the hood of a beautiful ‘69 Chevelle. Rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher, you jumped in surprise when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. 

“Mm, thanks for dinner, baby,” Frankie hummed in your ear. He placed a sweet kiss to the side of your face, then squeezed you closer to him and ducked his face into the crook of your neck. “Do I get to have you for dessert?” 

You giggled and rolled your eyes a little, playfully trying to wriggle free from his hold so that you could finish loading the dishwasher. “Maybe later,” you laughed, pushing against his arms, “Let’s wait until our friends aren’t all in the next room.” 

“Don’t stop on our account.” You heard Will laugh and turned to see him leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. He had a mischievous and almost wistful sparkle in his eyes. “Benny and me are gonna head out – he’s got training in the morning.” 

“Let me go grab that book for you,” Frankie announced. He let you go but gave you a quick swat to the ass before slipping in to the other room. You sighed and met Will’s smirk with a shake of your head as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel. Everyone else was making their way to the front door, so you followed to bid your guests a good night. Frankie reappeared from your bedroom with a copy of that political memoir he and Will had been talking about and handed it over.

Watching everyone make their way outside, and thanking everyone for coming over, Frankie wrapped himself around you again from behind. His warm callused fingers slipped under the hem of your t-shirt to brush against the soft skin underneath. Even as you were waving goodbye to the guys, Frankie was nipping at your neck and mumbling about all the filthy things he was going to do to you the second that door was closed. Benny rolled his eyes and Santi made some comment in Spanish that you were probably glad you didn’t quite catch, but you could see the fondness in their eyes as they watched the two of you together. They clearly cared about Frankie and, ultimately, they were just glad to finally see him so happy and in love.

“Francisco, you are a menace!” you laughed, feeling his fingertips brush against the underside of your bra. He simply grinned brightly and gave a little shrug as you finally managed to close the front door of your house. 

“You didn’t seem to mind the last time I insisted on having you for dessert.” He dropped his hands to your hips and buried his face in the crook of your neck as he stood behind you. With a not-so-gentle nudge of his hips against you, he began to steer you toward the kitchen.

“Mm, you do have a point there,” you hummed, allowing him to guide you to the island in the center of the kitchen. As you reached the edge of the counter, you turned in Frankie’s grip to face him. “Though I do recall being alone at the time and not in front of your closest friends,” you added, carding your fingers through the messy mop of curls on his head. He didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be sorry, simply shrugging again and cupping your face in his large hands. You playfully rolled your eyes and then his lips were on yours, kissing your breath away. 

You were no stranger to intimacy with Frankie, but the way he kissed you then was like he was trying to tell you something that he couldn’t find the words for. When you sighed into the kiss, he took advantage of the slight parting of your lips to slip his tongue into your mouth. As his tongue caressed yours, your grip on his hair tightened and you lightly scratched at his scalp with your fingernails. One of his hands moved down to your hip, his thumb rubbing circles into the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. His touch on your skin was light but insistent, and it left little bolts of lightning in its wake. 

His hand slid lower to your thigh, and he was lifting your leg to partially wrap around his hip, giving him the space to press into you better. The new angle allowed you to feel his hardness rub against the apex of your thighs and you felt the wetness of your arousal begin to pool in your panties. Frankie groaned into the kiss as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling back just enough to make him chase your mouth with his own. His hand moved slowly, almost delicately, from the side of your face and down to your breast, where he kneaded the supple flesh hidden below your shirt. 

With the change in position, something snapped, and Frankie was frantically fumbling with the button of your jeans, needing more than anything to touch you. He continued mouthing at your throat while you moved your hands to the counter below you to help him remove your jeans. As he pulled them off of you, Frankie dropped to his knees in front of you and began placing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs. His kisses began at the inside edge of your right knee, moved up your inner thigh until he stopped to place a single gentle kiss to the spot where your cotton panties covered your mound, and down your left thigh. When he made it to your other knee, he ran his rough and callused fingers over the soft skin of your outer thighs. 

“Fu- fuck,” you stuttered breathlessly as he nudged the underside of your jaw with his nose and then nipped the sensitive skin of your throat. You rolled your hips slowly and deliberately, longing to feel Frankie’s need pressed into your core. The playful mood had shifted to something more desperate, and Frankie lifted you up to sit on the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in so close to your body that he could hardly breathe.

You leaned back, resting against your palms on the counter, and your breath caught heavily in your throat as Frankie began to rub you through your panties. The black cotton was damp, only hinting at the blossoming arousal that hid beneath, and the soft warmth contrasted with the roughness of his fingers. You chewed on your lip as you tried to hold back a moan just from the intensity of Frankie’s eyes on yours. Suddenly, he hooked his fingers into the crotch of the cotton and yanked, ripping the elastic waistband in two places and pulling your panties right off your body. The moan you had been holding back escaped and you physically trembled.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice dripping with such arousal that it was beginning to fail you. His mouth moved to your center and your legs drifted further apart to accommodate his closeness. Your left hand tangled in his hair and gripped tightly the second his tongue moved up your soaked slit the first time. You couldn’t help the way your hips bucked up toward his mouth, moving of their own accord in search of even an inkling of relief to the intense need that had built within you. His large hands gripped your hips and held you in place, making you whine at the lack of control. He knew how much it drove you crazy to submit to him and he was determined to give you everything you’d ever wanted. 

When he hummed against your pussy, the vibrations shot through your clit and the rest of your body, triggering a sob to escape from the back of your throat. You felt him grin against you as you moved your hips as much as you could under his tight grip. The places his fingertips dug into your hips ached and you hoped there’d be bruises to remind you of the delicious torture you’d endured. With his lips wrapped around your throbbing clit, he slid one finger inside of your hole, rubbing at the spot just inside of you that made you beg for mercy.

“I’m gonna come, Frankie, I’m so close.” Somewhere between a whine and a chant left your lips and Frankie’s cock throbbed painfully at how absolutely wrecked your voice sounded. 

He slid a second finger inside of you and whispered, “Come for me, querida. Wanna feel you fall apart.” With a curl of his fingers into your sweet spot and a flick of his tongue over the tip of your clit, you plunged over the edge into a trembling climax.

“Fuck!” you yelled, your thighs trying to squeeze closed around Frankie’s perfect face. Your legs quaked and your core trembled as his mouth worked you through the waves of your high. When the stimulation began to be too much, you just mumbled, “Okay, okay,” as you stroked your hand through his soft, messy curls. He pulled back, removed his fingers from inside you, and stood. He placed his mouth over yours, swallowing down your breathless pants as he flicked his finger, pruney from stroking through your wetness, lightly over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Frankie actually growled when you moved your hand to cup him through his jeans and you knew you had to get him inside of your wet heat before he could explode. Your shaking hands managed to make quick work of the button and fly of his jeans and you took him, heavy, into your hand. Neither of you bothered to push his pants down any further than you needed to, and Frankie was lining himself up with your entrance in no time. 

The tip of his cock was so angry and red, dripping precum, but your warmth engulfed him as he pressed into you. As he sunk into you, it was so overwhelming that it pushed all of the air out of his lungs and he dropped his head to your shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss to the column of your throat before he began to move. He lifted his head, pressed his lips roughly against yours and slammed his hips into you over and over. The pace was punishing and you felt the familiar warmth bloom in your belly immediately. You dug your nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer to you until there was no space between you. You rocked your hips to meet his thrusts and when the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you, you came so hard you saw stars. You felt the warm wetness gush out of you as the walls of your cunt clenched around Frankie’s cock and he fucked into you once, twice, and came with a roar. You felt the way the head of his cock throbbed inside you as he spurted his thick release deep into you, and you couldn’t catch your breath. 

“Holy fuck,” Frankie rasped, his voice completely demolished. He slowly pulled his softening cock out of you and reached for the dish towel to begin to clean you up. His come slid out of you as your pussy fluttered with the aftershocks and your wetness had dripped down the front of the cabinets below where you sat, as well as absolutely drenching the front of Frankie’s pants.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Your eyes were wide and you couldn’t help but laugh at the mess. 

“Don’t apologize, baby. That was incredible.” Frankie placed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth and warmth flushed through your face. “And you called me the menace.”

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[ofnifflersandkings]

Token of Affection

Character: Benny Watts

A/n: Had a little bit of a struggle putting this together but I’m quite happy with the outcome. Enjoy!

•

“Stop doing that”

“Doing what?”

You lowered your camera, giving Benny a pointed look, reaching over the coffee table to flick his forehead. “You have to sit still when I’m trying to take your photo.” You pulled your hand back, careful not to knock over the chess set you’d placed in front of him.

Benny twirled the king piece in his hand, leaning his chin in the other while he gave you a wide eyed look. “Now, how on earth am I supposed to do that when I have the world’s loveliest photographer in front of me.”

You rolled your eyes, but Benny noticed you cough to hide a laugh and he smirked. “Regardless, I do have other people to see today. So you need to focus so I can finish up.”

Benny scoffed, watching you poke and prod at various mechanics on your camera. “Who’s more important than me?”

You didn’t even try to conceal your laugh this time while you snapped a photo of his pout, something he often denied doing. “Sorry Bens, I think now might be a good time to tell you that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

He lifted his hand to his heart and feigned a look of distress. “Hurtful.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard far worse. In fact, I think I’m the one saying them to you.” That got him to laugh, and you noticed his shoulders finally loosen up.

It was funny to watch Benny get into the role of a model. You always thought he was handsome, and the camera agreed. It wasn’t hard to get good shots of him, but you noticed his hands were always incredibly stiff. 

He was used to lounging against leather armchairs in tournament rooms, and flittering his arms about when he spoke. But when he had to hold one position long enough for you to get a clear photo.

You saw the focus in his eyes, and you recognized the expression from when he was in a particularly intense set of chess. His lips were pressed together and he looked incredibly uncomfortable. For all of Benny’s self-importance he never knew how to behave in front of cameras. It was part of the reason that he had you do all of his editorials. You were the one person he felt totally comfortable around.

You looked at him with an expression he could only label as sincere fondness, it made his ears feel warm. You let out a hefty sigh, letting your camera hang by the strap around your neck. “You’re thinking too much, this isn’t a chess game.” You lightly ran your fingers overs his, forcing him to slacken his hand with the new weight. 

“Relax.” You instructed, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards when you felt the cold metal of his chess ring. 

Benny faltered for a second, but his surprise at your gentle tone he relaxed enough for you to get the photo you wanted. 

You took a handful more shots just so you’d have a selection to let him and the magazine choose from. “That should do it,” You said, slipping off your camera strap. “You’re free.”

Benny immediately slouched, dramatically dropping his king piece and flopping onto his side. “Come here” He held out his arms to you, “I think we’ve earned a nap.”

You sighed, after two hours the offer was tempting, even on his awful apartment floor. “Afraid not today, Bens. I have to get my travel stuff in order today. I have to do a shoot for Dior’s winter collection.”

“They’re not dragging you to Paris again, are they? That’s the second time this year,” He said, the continued talk of your departure making him grumpy. Benny wasn’t used to not having you around, and when your work got noticed more it felt like you were around less and less.

“Oui.” You said, hoping it would make him laugh, but your joke did little to lift his spirits.

Make no mistake, he was beyond happy you were getting the credit and recognition you deserved. And he felt an insurmountable amount of pride knowing his photos were your first showstoppers. But if he had his way, you’d be in New York all the time. 

“Only for two weeks this time,” You consoled, packing up your equipment and shuffling around the coffee table to lean against him. “And then I’ll take some more local jobs to see you.”

Benny hummed, knowing he wasn’t in any particular position to change your mind. His feelings for you were complicated and his arrogance often got in the way of any real revelations on just how deeply he cared for you.

“Well,” He huffed, the loose blond hairs on his forehead flying up on his head. “At least I can give you a bon voyage gift this time.”

You slightly jerked your arm against his side. “You know I hate it when you buy me things.”

He grinned, shifting around beside you so he was resting on his knees. “I didn’t buy it,” Benny laughed at your confused expression. “Just close your eyes.”

You looked at him for a few seconds and then did as you were told. When he instructed you to open them again he was holding two closed fists in front of you.

“Pick one.”

“Benny-“

“I’m trying to be sentimental, just pick one before I change  my mind.”

You smiled, and reached out to tap his left fist but when he dramatically shook his head you tapped the other one.

He opened his fist and when his hand was empty, he laughed at your unamused expression.

“Gotcha.”

You were about to make another smartass comment but his other fist opening and revealing his chess ring stopped any words from leaving your mouth.

“I want you to keep this, so you don’t go forgetting about me when you met all those dashing frenchmen.” Benny teased, holding the ring out to you.

“You earned that, I can’t take it” 

“And I’ll win a dozen more, but this one is for you. Now, take it before you hurt my feelings.” Benny took your one hand and slipped it on before you could say anything else.

You looked down at and gave it a few twirls on your finger. “I’ll keep it safe, don’t worry.”

Benny leaned over and gave you a kiss on your head, resting against you while he took in the scent of your perfume. 

“I know you will.”

[ezrasarm]

Roommates Part 3: KO

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: drunk reader, Santiago is a bad influence, drink responsibly kids! That’s all I think?

A/N: I know it’s been a long wait but the next part is finally here! Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy it!

<– previous chapter | Roommates | next chapter –>

Frankie had been gone for a while. He had excused himself to go to the bathroom almost twenty minutes ago and Benny was bound to go on soon. You didn’t want him to miss the fight and get in trouble is what you’d excused the nag in your gut urging you to seek him out as when you were about to go looking for him. You knew he would get an earful if he missed even a second because you were the one in the hot seat last time when you missed a whole fight after being called into work last minute. 

Pope seemed to find you first, shoving a drink in your hand as you peered over his shoulder, expecting Frankie to be close in tow. “You don’t have to sound quite so disappointed you got me instead.” Santiago teased you when you not so subtly asked where he was.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You assured him with a roll of your eyes, giving him a nudge to the shoulder and a thank you for the drink. But if you were being honest, you’d been with Pope all day and had hardly seen Frankie all week. You were beginning to wonder if something was wrong. “He’s right over there. Ran into an old high school classmate and they’re catching up by the bar.” Santiago said with a directed nod of his head and you followed his line of sight over to where you could see the familiar silhouette, corduroy jacket and baseball cap and all, stooped a little with his arms folded over his chest and talking to some woman you’d never seen before. 

You weren’t sure what the feeling that twisted in your stomach was or why it decided to rear its head right now but you found yourself feeling slightly defensive when you turned back to Santiago with eyebrows raised. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting a she and you couldn’t tell why that threw you off so much. Frankie could talk to whoever he pleased, it was none of your business but you still found yourself downing just about half your drink in one go to try and drown whatever feeling it was that had begun growing in your belly.

“That was fast.” Santiago remarked, giving you a skeptical look as he glanced between you and the almost empty cup in your hand, “You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, fine! It’s just been a while since I let loose. Thought I might let myself have some fun tonight.” You shrugged.

He glanced back up in Frankie’s direction and eyed you for a second, taking a moment to consider it, “Can’t argue with that,” he nodded before downing his own drink as though it were a challenge. 

You had lost track of how many beers you and Santiago had snuck behind Will’s back who was too busy to play baby sitter tonight as he usually did. Drinking with him had certainly done its job to distract you. You had almost forgotten all about the fact that your best friend had decided to spend the evening talking to some stranger instead of you. God what had gotten into you? You were not the jealous type and you didn’t like how it felt-

Thud.

You didn’t have time to consider that thought any further before you had run straight into the man of the hour himself on your way back from the bar.

“Shit, sorry- Oh hey!” You exclaimed, having miraculously avoiding throwing your drinks all over both of you with those dumb plastic cups they gave you here.

“Woah, you alright there?” Frankie asks, throwing an arm out to stabilize you. “I swear, I left you alone for ten min- okay an hour and a half and- how many of those have you had?” He asks, noticing the slight wobble to your balance and slur to your speech as you introduced yourself and shook the hand of the woman he had been talking to.

“Uhhh good question,” you ponder for a moment before shrugging “Santi and I found out that if you’re a girl alone at an MMA fight you can get a lot of free drinks so we’ve made it our mission to find out exactly how many.” You explain, shooting a wink and a slight salute over to Pope who was still standing, waiting by your seats.

“And have you gotten an answer yet?” Frankie asks, slightly amused but also positive that he would be making sure this was your last drink of the night when you stumbled slightly over nothing and he had to wrap an arm around you for support.

“It appears there is no limit.” You say proudly, missing the fond look in his eye when he shakes his head with a soft and slightly disbelieving smile.

“Cheryl, this is my uh, roommate.” Frankie says gesturing towards you.

“What, are you embarrassed of me or something’? I’d say we’re a little bit more than that.” You interject. You had meant friends but from the look on her face she appeared to have taken it another way and for some reason or another you felt no need to correct her.

“Oh well uh, it’s nice to meet you.” She says politely although clearly thrown slightly by your quite obvious inebriation. 

“Nice to meet you too, Carol!” You declare happily and you mean it, it’s interesting to see the kinds of people Frankie went to high school with but you really weren’t in much state to be particularly conversational at the moment.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing six foot three, weighing in at a hundred and ninety five pounds, I bring you… Ben Miller!” The announcer blares over the booming speakers, pulling you from your conversation. You and Frankie are quick to give Benny your support, you perhaps a little more enthusiastically in your less inhibited state as he and Will walked into the arena and the crowd roared to life.

“Well we should get back. I’ll never hear the end of it if I miss any of this and I’ve gotta make sure these two don’t get into any more trouble,” Frankie explains, “But it was nice catching up with you.” He says and Carol- Cheryl? One of those- nods.

“Yeah, I hope to see you around again sometime.” She says. She’s hardly turned to walk away before you’re wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at Frankie on your way over to Pope and Will.

“You realize she was hitting on you, right?” You asked when Frankie turned back to you, a teasing smile on your lips despite the rising feeling of inadequacy you felt from having stood within a two-meter radius of the gorgeous woman. 

“What? No! She was just-” Frankie cuts himself off after considering it for a moment. “...huh.” He says, eyebrows rising in slight surprise when he looks over his shoulder at the woman who he had already lost in the throngs of people. “I’m sure she was just being polite.”

“You’re too hard on yourself! She was checking you out!” You exclaim defensively, more for his own self esteem than anything else.

“...Me?” He gives you a skeptical look. 

“Yeah, why not you? You’ve got this sort of je ne ce quoi about you. The ladies dig it.” You say with a goofy grin and Frankie can’t help but burst out laughing. 

“That so? What about you?” He asks. For a millisecond your heart stops in your chest. Could he read your mind? Did he know about the thoughts that had just slipped to the forefront? The jealousy? The little bit of longing? It was the alcohol talking you were sure. You would never want to jeopardize your friendship by allowing yourself to picture him as anything more than that but for a flash of a second it hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea.

“Oh, I dig it too.” You say, nudging him in the gut teasingly. What you didn’t see was the way Frankie’s breath had hitched at the slightest inkling of you expressing interest in him, even if he knew you were just joking around. “I bet if you asked you could get her number.” You say and he’s snapped quite violently out of his trance. 

He didn’t want her number. He wanted you.

“Nah, she’s not really my type.” Is the response he settles for, his attention resettling on the fight in an attempt to drown out the feeling of disappointment he wasn’t sure he knew how to hide. He knew it wasn’t fair on you but the slightest hint of jealousy might have been nice to hear and instead you were giving him a rousing endorsement to go after someone he didn’t even like all that much.

“Are you kidding? Pardon the pun, but she was a knockout!” You exclaim just in time to watch Benny take a rather jarring blow to the jaw.

“Meh,” Frankie shrugs and you can’t help the yelp of surprise that escapes you.

“If she’s ‘meh’ then what am I?” You exclaim and Frankie’s jaw just about hits the ground at the fact that you could even think to ask him such a question. You were just about perfect to him in every way imaginable.

He doesn’t get the chance to tell you when the crowd roars to life as Benny finds himself making a comeback and you’re practically jumping out of your seat to bolster your support for your friend.

“You should go get her number.” You suggest when you sit back down, a little confused as to why. Perhaps you were overcompensating for your wave of jealousy earlier but there was still something in you screaming for you to stop acting like you were so okay with it. Because if the way you had reacted earlier and your current state of inebriation was any inclination, you clearly weren’t, but your mind was in no place to put those pieces together at the moment.

“Why is everyone trying to set me up all of a sudden?” Frankie scoffs playfully trying to shrug off your suggestion. “First Pope, now you,” He stops himself hoping you haven’t realized he’s probably said too much.

“Who was Santiago trying to set you up with?” You ask. Just the question he didn’t want to answer, especially not right now, not like this. He’s quite literally saved by the bell announcing the end of the match and when you look up Benny’s opponent is unconscious in front of him. A KO and you’d both missed it. You wouldn’t be getting out of that one too easily. You’re whisked away in post win festivities before you can even think to get an answer from Frankie.

He thinks you’ve forgotten about the conversation completely until he’s gotten you and Pope both wrangled into the car on your way back to the apartment and you pipe up from where he thought you had passed out the moment he had you strapped in. 

“So what’s Francisco Morales’ type?” you ask groggily, clearly not ready to give him a break yet and he laughs as he peers into the rearview to make sure Pope is still asleep before he even considers giving you an answer. 

“What makes you think I have a type?” He counters fruitlessly in hopes that he can at least attempt finding a suitable answer.

“Well you said Carol-”

“Cheryl-”

“-wasn’t your type so I’m assuming that means you have a type.” You prod him, your eyes still shut as you leaned back in the passenger seat.

“Well… I’d say my type would be someone who is smart, funny, supportive, all those wonderful things,” He explains, feeling a little more at ease when he looks over to see your breaths have shallowed slightly and your head has lulled against the window. “Has a good sense of humour, makes me smile, is fiercely loyal to her friends,” he goes on, “can be a complete dork if she wants to be, has no idea how beautiful she is,” he adds “and has me completely and utterly wrapped around her finger.” He mutters to himself when he looks back up at the road with a sigh.

<– previous chapter | Roommates | next chapter –>

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[missmensis]

no gods, no masters, iii.

Pairing: Benny x F!Courier

read ch. 1 here, read ch. 2 here. read ch. 3 on ao3.

They were all feeling a bit beaten-up after fending off the Legion; the victory was just that, but it felt hollow. They'd be sending assassins after Ava until there were none of them left or she kicked the bucket. The latter was unlikely. She was being quiet as usual, but this quiet felt different. She wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder, a vacant stare in her eye as she did so, and her pace had slowed down considerably compared to the last few days.

The ambush had taken more of their time and energy than they'd planned, and they decided to stop at the 188 Trading Post for the night. There were a handful of NCR soldiers occupying the spot, so it'd be safer than just stopping on the side of the road or off the trail. There were no free beds to spare, but all they needed was a relatively safe place where they wouldn't have to sleep with one eye open; nobody was new to the occasional necessity of sleeping on the ground.

Once they found their own little area to hold up for the evening, the Courier sat down to rest and make a fire. They gave her some space. Boone pulled Benny aside, far enough so that Ava wouldn't hear.

"Right, so," Benny stuck his wrists out in front of Boone, "Gonna leash me back up, huh?"

Boone shook his head, "Actually, no. At least... not now, anyway. That's up to her. About today-"

"Oh, yeah," Benny chewed his lip, taking the gun out of his waistband, "Here you go."

He held it out for the other man to take, but Boone waved his hand, "Keep it. For here. Just in case."

Benny gave him a funny look, "You sure, cat?"

"Yeah," He nodded, glancing behind Benny in Ava's direction, "Just... watch her, alright? She's hurting."

"I will-" Benny moved to stick the pistol back in his pants, but not before Boone grabbed his arm.

"Take advantage, or try anything and I swear to god," Boone said, lowering his shades to look Benny straight in the eye, "I'm not far away. I will be watching, and I will put a bullet in you."

"You're gonna have to come up with a new threat," Benny replied with ire, "That one's getting stale, dig?"

"Be less of an asshole and then maybe I won't have to threaten you." Boone rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He whistled for Rex, who trotted to the sniper's side and followed along obediently to keep watch.

Boone's 10mm in hand, Benny made his way back to check on Ava. He stashed the gun in the back of his waistband again, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. At least, not tonight, anyway.

Ava was sitting in front of the small campfire she'd made, her legs splayed out in front of her, the toes of her boots tapping together to some beat only she could hear. There was a bottle of whiskey in her lap, and it looked like she was making solid headway on it.

"Hey, hey," Benny crouched down next to her, "What's shakin'?"

"Benny," She turned to him, a dazed smile on her face, "I’m trying to get drunk. Shakin' with you?"

"Ah, nothin' much," He settled down, stretching his legs out next to hers, "Gettin' smashed, huh? Can I get some of that?"

"Mmmmmhm," She hummed, handing him the bottle and watching as he took a deep swig, "It's good shit."

"It's... not bad," Benny swished it around a bit before swallowing, "Got better shit at the Tops, though."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so high and mighty at the Tops, aren't you," Ava poked him hard in the side with her finger, her eyes hazy, "'Benny's gonna show you the Tops', hah."

"Shut up," He snickered, "I did, though. The dent in that mattress was permanent."

She looked over at him, the light from the fire dancing on her features, "I remember."

It was astonishing how terrifyingly stunning she was. That handful of months ago now, when she'd been kneeling on the ground in front of him, her life flashing before her eyes, she'd just looked like a kid, nothing more than a clueless girl who had no idea what kind of package she was carrying.

How had that not been enough in itself to make him reconsider what he’d been doing at the time? He hadn't even thought twice; once he had that chip between his fingers, it was a done deal. He could've let her go, she probably wouldn't have come looking. Even the Great Khans had reservations about the whole thing, but it hadn't stopped him. Shit. He was a piece of shit, an untrustworthy fink, and he knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it.

Benny looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Benny rolled his eyes, "Good goddamn lord, woman."

"I'm fucking with you," Ava mused, "Go ahead."

"Last night in Novac. And... earlier today," Benny started carefully, "You, uh, kinda freaked. You looked really messed up."

Ava looked down at her hands, averting her gaze, "Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Ah.... yeah... so, my head does that every now and then," She answered with tight lips, "Ever since... y'know, I got a bullet to the brain from this checkered bastard I know."

"Right," He said guiltily, "Shit."

What could he say that wouldn't sound stupid or disingenuous? He'd shot her in the fucking head and now she was living with the consequences. God, there was a lot he wanted to tell her, but none of it would come out the way he wanted it to.

He sat next to her, quietly cursing himself when she spoke up again, "I get these like... migraines mixed with small bursts of panic attacks. I don't understand them. I've even asked a doc and he doesn't know. I have dreams all the time about people that I don’t recognize. I see their faces and it’s like I’m supposed to know them and I just don’t," She sighed, the heaviness of the conversation beginning to sober her, “And even when I’m awake, sometimes, I see them, too. In the back corner of a mirror, in the desert heat, they're just watching me. Like I'm riding on Daytripper in a bad way, but I'm stone-cold sober. I'm living with ghosts, Benny. People I'm supposed to know, to feel something for, but all they do is confuse me and make my head spin."

Benny frowned, "You don't remember them. Not at all?"

"No. Don't even know if they're dead or alive. It's not like anybody's come looking for me," Ava shook her head, taking a small yellow and green box out of her pocket that said MENTATS on it in rusted red lettering, "The way I see it, everyone from my past is dead, or I'm dead to them. Or I'm just not someone worth searching for."

She said it with bitterness, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to the horizon as she popped a Mentat on her tongue.

"Do they help?" Benny asked, gesturing to the box of chems as Ava rubbed her thumb across the letters.

"Kinda? I mean, everything from before Goodsprings is a blank. I haven't forgotten anybody I've met since then, but I get these, like, little flashes of moments that seem like they're mine, but they're not. At least, not mine anymore. That's when it hurts. When it turns into something like what happened today. I saw somewhere else, like here, but worse. More desolate, if you can believe that. It was like the whole place was in pain, screaming at me. Kinda think it's better that I don't remember."

She shoved the Mentats back into her pocket and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she filled herself with the dry Mojave air, "Everything before Goodsprings doesn't matter anymore, not really. Who I was before is gone. I just want to make sure I remember who I am now."

There was a beat of silence, the two of them just sitting and staring at the fire as the wind began to pick up around them. Ava tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she stared at the sun slowly making its way towards the edge of the world.

"I'll make sure you don't forget," Benny said quietly, "Been a goddamn fink to you so... I owe you that much. I'll never stop being sorry. I mean that."

Ava turned her head to look over at him, her brows slightly raised in disbelief at his words.

"And for what it's worth, if anything at all," He continued, "I think you're someone worth searching for."

Her eyes softened; he'd never seen her look at him that way before. It was something like... fondness? Appreciation? A lapse in judgment from the whisky and chems? Whatever it was, it pulled at the corners of his mouth. Ava smiled back, the first real one he'd ever seen from her, and it was infectious. Her cheeks dimpled, and she looked almost a little nervous before she settled into it, which made Benny wonder just how many reasons she'd even have to smile these days. A gust of wind blew through their camp, and Ava visibly shivered. Wordlessly, Benny shrugged his jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

"I'm still really fuckin' mad at you," She whispered, "But thank you, Benny."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she scooted closer to him so that their sides were touching. Ava reached for his arm and gently slung it over her shoulders as she rested her head against his chest. He was stiff for a moment, not quite sure if this was a sick joke or not, but when she didn't do anything else besides lean into him, he finally relaxed.

The girl knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it; he dug that.

They sat for a while, neither of them saying a word, as the sky grew darker and darker. Vegas glowed like a lantern off in the distance, a stark contrast to the rest of the Mojave bathed in black. With how brightly the skyline shone, the stars had a hard time competing, even though the sky was littered with them. It wasn't often that Benny spent a night out in the dust - that was now more a thing relegated to a former life - and though he wasn't one to live in the past, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he stared up at the constellations. Years of his life spent as a nomad walking the Mojave with the Boot Riders, countless nights just like this, and how quickly he'd tossed it all aside for caps and comfort. He'd have done all that again, he knew, but as he felt Ava relax fully against him, he had more than one regret in the back of his mind. Benny was careful as he glanced down at her, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open as she slept soundly on his shoulder, and gently moved some of the hair away from her face. As he did, his eyes caught the edge of the scar from the bullet.

Yeah, sure-as-shit, more than one regret.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7 - New York State of Mind

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 

Summary: Your first mission goes wrong and you have to face the consequences. While at the same time trying not to lose your sanity around Neil.

Warnings: Cursing.

Author’s Notes: Back to extremely long chapters! This one was a but more tricky to write due to action scenes but hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think

One could expect that after such an unexpected prelude to the meeting, you would both have difficulties staying in the roles. But surprisingly, it worked to your advantage. From the moment you stepped inside Benny’s, you were eager to do anything else but act. Your head was still a mess, and you were grateful for the distraction. Neil had to smooth his hair (thanks to you) and made sure not to touch you. You hoped that your slightly smeared lipstick would not raise any suspicious glances. In summary, it seemed as though the kiss gave you an upper hand even though you were not sure about the cost. That was until you realised what kind of person your target for the evening was.

Steiner was a rather short man with a grey buzzcut, and a permanent snarl etched on his face. He was constantly supervised by two burly, muscular bodyguards who looked like retired WWE fighters. You were pretty sure that if you were to face them, it would be the end. And Neil with his brains but insignificant physical strength would not be much better. So you said a silent prayer and sat next to your business partner at the table, facing Steiner.

The weapons dealer has led the conversation, asking you both about the most intricate details of your business and the deals you have made with the top players in the nuclear arena. He was very prepared. At first, the conversation flowed smoothly with Neil explaining your roles and what kind of enterprise you have led. But soon, the little advantage you had started to wane. Another question thrown your way made you focus your attention on the moment:

“So, this deal you have struck with Russians and Koreans” he spoke with a thick Austrian accent that reminded you of cartoon villains “How threatening is it to the US government?” he stared at you with a steel-like glare.

You shifted nervously on the seat before trying to put on your best neutral face:

“Quite threatening, I’d say” you smirked “But we’re not allowed to discuss any details for the sake of our clients. I’m sure a man like you would understand” you bated your eyelashes, hoping to use your charm.

He eyed you somewhat sleazily, and you instantly regretted the decision

“What miss Sloane means is that we can’t disclose more than we’ve already told you” your partner spoke with his deep British accent, and you stole a glance at him.

He looked tense; you could tell that he also sensed your failure.

“I need to know how the piece we’re discussing here can fit in with all this” Steiner interjected “I’ve got some big names in the weapons industry after it and wouldn’t want to anger them by selling it to somebody else” he shrugged “I have to admit that I don’t believe a word of what you’re trying to sell me” he smiled but it was more like a cruel sneer.

You felt a spike of anxiety. Watching Steiner turn towards his bodyguards, you knew that you were losing. Impulsively you reached out for Neil’s knee and squeezed it under the table. If it was not for the increasing panic, you would have noticed that he shuddered when you touched him. His eyes met yours, and you did your best to share the worry you felt. He understood, nodded, and grabbed your hand before addressing Steiner:

“If you don’t want to sell the piece to us, it’s your loss really”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the bodyguards ushering people out of the room. Fuck. You quickly reached for the clutch bag in your lap. Soon it was just the five of you left in the bar.

“Who do you work for?” the Austrian got up and leaned on the table “MI6? FBI? Huh?” his cold gaze somehow got even icier.

That was it. You have royally fucked it, so to speak. Clutching Neil’s hand, you leaped up from your seat and trained your eyes on the bodyguards. Their hands were ready on the guns.

“Do you really think that top intelligence organisations would be interested in this?” Neil clung to his charm as one does to a lifeline “You’re making a very stupid decision right now. I just want you to think about that for a moment”

“I’m done thinking”

Steiner turned towards the henchmen again. Neil met your gaze with a serious expression and pushed you behind him, reaching for the gun hidden underneath the jacket.

“Kill them both. They’re spies” the Austrian barked out the order at his bodyguards.

At his words, all hell broke loose. All four of you reached for the guns, with fingers ready on the triggers. The bodyguard was quickest, and before you could react, you were pushed to the ground by Neil. The gunshot rang in the quiet room, and you looked around fervently to see who has been hit. Your eyes fell on your partner, who has doubled over with a pained expression. You saw a small crimson stain spread through the white of his shirt on the side of the torso. Your eyes widened with realisation. You have been stood in the exact spot before Neil shielded you. Another salve of gunshots echoed with bullets raining down. Neil kept his post, but you could tell that he was suffering. You jumped back on your feet and aimed the gun at the bodyguard closest to you. You fired and watched as the bullet hit him square in the the chest. He fell dead. Steiner was not expecting that. He stared at you with a panicked expression before being dragged out of the room by the only henchman left. You breathed out. That was probably your only chance at escape.

“Are you okay?” Neil’s worried voice and his hand on your shoulder threw you out of the stupor.

“It’s not me who has been shot” you glanced at the spreading bloody stain on his side and frowned “We should leave before they come back”

“Right” he squeezed your shoulder before reaching down to take your hand in his.

You stared at him surprised, but before you could ask, he led you out of the bar and into the street. Outside you stopped to look at him, searching for any signs of pain. He met your gaze with uncertainty. You briefly wondered if things between you have changed for the worse irrevocably.

“Are you alright?” you finally asked, echoing him from only minutes prior.

“Of course” he attempted a sly grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Never been better” the hand that was still holding yours tightened the hold “We should go”

Reluctantly, you let him lead you back to the hotel. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you could not help but point out:

“You shouldn’t have shielded me back there. I can shoot well” you glared but refused to meet his eye.

Your joined hands were like a harsh reminder of what happened tonight. You felt his thumb brush over your knuckles and inhaled sharply.

“I know you can, but I didn’t want you to be shot” his raw tone surprised you “And please don’t ask why because I’m not sure I could explain”

You stopped in your tracks to stare at him. He dropped your hand. This evening can’t get harder, can it?

“Neil…” you started, unsure of what you wanted to say.

“Please not now” he was looking at you with fondness “We’ll talk, but first we need to get back to the hotel” he moved too fast and flinched from pain.

In an instant, you were at his side, brushing away the lapel to look at the state of his shirt. It was slick from blood, and it started to seep through the jacket as well. That was all you needed to pick up your pace and withhold any questions. When you got to the hotel, it became clear that you would need to create a distraction to get through the lobby. Stopping just a few paces away from the door, you turned to him.

“I’ve got an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it” you announced, feeling panic even at the thought itself.

“Fire away” his face was quite pale “I’m sure it’s brilliant”

You took a deep breath before blurting out the terrible plan that somehow formed in your head:

“Just embrace me so that your wound is obscured by my dress. If you wrap your arms around my waist, they’ll think we’re just… too cosy and won’t ask questions” you were pretty sure you will regret it soon enough.

Neil stared at you, clearly considering it, before asking:

“Are you sure that’s okay?” he stepped a bit closer as if trying to assess your level of sanity.

“Yeah” you shrugged and met his gaze “It was my idea after all”

After another few seconds of scrutiny, he smiled lightly and pulled you closer by placing his hands on your waist. The touch was too familiar. You shivered at the contact, immediately cursing yourself for coming up with the plan. But there was no time to suffer, so you just wrapped your arm around his neck and started toying with the hair ends at the nape of his neck. Hugging each other like that, you walked into the hotel lobby. There, naturally, only to be more believable, you allowed yourself to rest your head on Neil’s shoulder. Breathing in his scent, you felt his hands brush over your back and stomach. He leaned down to place a small kiss on your temple, and you felt your cheeks grow warmer. That moment was doing nothing to help clear your head. It was, in fact, the worst idea that you ever came up with.

No-one stopped you on the way to the lift, where once the door shut, you quickly entangled yourself from Neil and took a step away. Now your dress too was stained with blood. You did not dare look at him until you were absolutely forced to. You felt his gaze burning into the side of your head and roaming over your figure.

“Sorry about the dress” he said finally, just as you disembarked the lift.

“Don’t worry about it” you managed a small smile and met his gaze.

You stared at each for a short while, but this time you both were cautious. You felt strange, only now fully realising what happened tonight. Everything, beginning with the kiss, was like a fevered dream. Somewhere on the verge of your consciousness, you remembered that you killed a man tonight. But you knew that the reality of the situation will only dawn on you later. Now all you cared about was Neil and his shirt soaked with blood. Sobering up, you took his hand and started leading him down the corridor. Then you both went into his room, and you let go of his hand, desperately trying to control the situation.

“Shouldn’t we call for the emergency team?”

But before you managed to finish the question, your eyes widened. Neil just stripped his jacket, followed by the tie and shirt. The clothes landed on a pile on the floor, and he met your astounded look with a smirk:

“Why are you so shocked? It’s not like you’ve not seen me like this before” he winked, enjoying your startled state.

“Do you always have to be such an arse?” you focused on glaring at him to avoid looking at anything else.

“Only for you, my dear” with that he disappeared into the bathroom.

Right… maybe things are not quite so different.

You gave yourself a mental slap to the face before following Neil. He was looking at the gunshot wound in the mirror as you tentatively approached him. It looked rather bad with a significant blood loss. Pushing away the rising concern, you took one of the spare towels, dipped it in water, and begun to clean the wound. You surprised him with your actions, and he visibly tensed when the cloth touched the wound. Briefly, you wondered whether it was because of you or from the pain.

Once all of the dried blood was removed from the area, it was clear that the bullet was still inside. It has most certainly missed any vital organs, and that was good news. You took a step back to assess his state and was met with a very intense look from Neil. You had a feeling that if it was not for the gravity of the situation, you would not be able to stop yourself from making another mistake. But now was certainly not the time.

“We really should call for a doctor” your voice was weirdly hoarse “Someone needs to take out the bullet”

“There’s no need, I’ve done it before” you watched with horror as he reached for a pair of tweezers.

Slapping his hand away, you glared:

“Neil”

“What? You don’t have to look while I do it” he shrugged and once again tried to pick at the wound with the metal instrument.

You grabbed his wrist in a tight grip and met his gaze with defiance.

“Even if you’ll somehow manage to extract the bullet, someone should see it” you hated how close to pleading you were “You could get an infection”

For the first time, he seemed speechless, thinking hard about the next counterargument. Then, as his eyes lit up with the well-known smug smile on his lips, you knew what was coming.

“You must really care about my well-being” he mused, looking way too pleased.

“Yes. I do” you replied seriously “So please, stop this alpha male self-reliance bullshit, and let me get help” you let go of his wrist and looked into his eyes, not hiding the annoyance and worry you felt.

He searched your eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Thank you” you whispered.

Before you could leave the bathroom to dial the number, Neil quickly grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles while looking into your eyes with fondness and admiration. It was too much too soon. You drew your hand away and left the room without looking behind.

*** The emergency team just had to know your exact location, mission code, and an answer to the set secret question, which was a way of assuring your identity. They registered your call and promised to arrive within fifteen minutes.

You were not ready to face Neil again, so you just changed into comfortable clothes, discarding the bloodied dress in the bathroom corner. You felt impossibly tired, with a pounding headache and aching body. Just as you considered collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep in an instant, you heard a knock on the connecting doors. You sighed and called out:

“Come in”

The door creaked, and you could see Neil’s silhouette leaning on the wooden frame.

“They should come soon” you announced, feeling the awkwardness settle between you.

It was only fair, you thought. At some point, you both had to understand what happened, and surely it would mean that things would be somewhat different.

“Sorry about earlier. I know I can be annoying sometimes” you turned to look at him at the admission.

“Yeah, you really can” you frowned, and he smiled at the sight.

You observed each other in silence. You were grateful that he kept his distance so you could keep your sanity intact for the moment.

“I wish I understood why the mission failed” he mused out loud “I would’ve sworn we had him figured out”

“Not everyone falls victim to your charm, Neil” you glanced up at him with a tired smile.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the knock echoing from his room interrupted him. He seemed hesitant so you just nodded. He took one last look at you before leaving to open the door.

Once it was clear that it was the emergency team that arrived, you made an effort to show up and have a look at them. It was a small group consisting of one woman and three men, all familiar with Neil and rather indifferent towards you. Nothing new then. After they made sure you were perfectly fine and you have logged in the mission into the system, it was made clear that you were no longer needed.

Perhaps it was for the better. You managed to steal one last glance at Neil through the bathroom door left cracked open. His wound was being stitched, and he looked a bit worse for wear. But he was alive, and that was what mattered. With that knowledge, you quietly retired to your own room and locked the door.

Sighing, you finally got into the bed and tried to relax. Soon enough, the images from the bar began flashing before your eyes. You always expected your first kill to be harsh, but the events of the day made it worse. You just hoped for a little rest during the night. And no nightmares.

*** A journey back to Boston could be summed up with one word – awkward. The emergency team took you back in their minivan, which meant spending 4 hours in silence or risking small talk. You preferred to stay quiet and look out through the window, worried that the conversation with strangers could prove to be difficult. Even talking to Neil seemed like a hard achievement at the moment. Apart from exchanging a rather stiff ‘good morning’ upon meeting, you did not speak with each other at all. And it did hurt. The only consolation were the few looks you stole from him when everyone else seemed distracted.

By the time you arrived at the HQs, the prospect of the post-mission briefing with TP seemed almost exciting. You followed Neil to the conference room, where the boss was already waiting for you. You watched as him and Neil embraced and smiled at the sight.

“It’s good to see you both back… almost intact” the Protagonist warily eyed Neil’s side “How are you?”

“Oh it’s nothing” Neil waved his hand dismissively before looking at you pointedly “If it wasn’t for someone’s panic, I wouldn’t even need the doctor’s help”

You glared and tried to control your emotions, not to make a scene in front of someone else. But TP just chuckled, eyeing you both with interest.

“You should thank Y/N for potentially saving your ass” he joked, and you smiled, glad someone stood up for you.

“Yeah exactly, I never got a thank you” feeling braver, you approached them and joined the small circle in the centre of the room.

“In which case, apologies m’lady” Neil took a step towards you and took your hand in his “And thank you” he kissed the back of your hand, all the while maintaining eye contact.

You blushed and quickly took a step back.

“No worries” you looked back at the Protagonist warily, but he only grinned. It did seem like he was used to moments like that involving his colleague. The thought made you feel strange, and you were not sure if it was due to jealousy or something else.

“Okay, tell me what happened with Steiner”

You all sat down at the table, and Neil began to summarise the mission:

“We contacted Raul, who helped us set up the meeting with Steiner. The pretext was that we’re dealing with nuclear weapons and are intrigued by his newest offer. We prepared our roles rather well, I think” he glanced at you as though trying to ascertain what you remembered from the day.

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with the images and feelings. The flirting, the persisting touch on your knee, the way he looked at you just before the kiss. You swallowed hard and tried to compose yourself as Neil continued the story.

“The beginning of the meeting went well, but then he started getting suspicious, and nothing was working on him. Once he started giving signs to his bodyguards, we knew that the mission has been compromised so we prepared for the showdown. I got shot in the side before Y/N took out one of the minions. Steiner then left with the other one, and we evacuated” he finished and took a sip from the glass of water.

You stared at him, wondering why he omitted the detail about the bullet being meant for you. But he only acknowledged your gaze with a curt nod. Clearly now was not the time for important conversations. TPs voice brought you out of the thoughts:

“Do you think he has been warned?”

“Maybe” you spoke up, and they both looked at you “But to me, it seemed more like he was scared of disappointing a client to whom he promised the piece” you tried to remember the exact things said “He definitely mentioned something about powerful people being after the plutonium and that he doesn’t want to anger them”

“Good point” Neil nodded “I wish we could have gotten a name out of him”

“I have a few candidates” the Protagonist’s dark gaze stared into space with confidence “But it’s too early to share their names” he smiled apologetically.

Neil sighed and commented:

“It’s always too early for you to share anything” he glared at his friend.

“I know, and as usual, I’m sorry” you observed them both with interest “Soon you’ll know why I’m keeping all those secrets from you”

“I fucking hope so because I’m getting tired of all those half-truths” Neil’s gaze grew darker, and you wanted to reach out and take his hand.

Instead, you only stared as he got up and started pacing the room.

“What’s next in store then?” he asked after a short tense silence.

Before TP could answer, an agent burst into the room:

“I’m sorry boss, but Neil, you’re needed in the field” he looked panicked.

“Right now?” Neil’s gaze quickly flitted between all of you present in the room.

“Yes, it’s urgent” with that the agent left the room.

Then you watched curiously as Neil and the Protagonist exchanged a short conversation without speaking out loud. Then TP focused on the laptop screen with his back turned, while Neil approached you:

“I’m sorry about this” he looked into your eyes earnestly.

Once again, he meant everything, and you nodded. There was not much point in being angry at the universe, was there?

“It’s okay. We’ll talk when you’re back” gently, you reached out to brush away a stray strand that was falling into his eyes “Just be safe out there and… come back to me” you forced a small smile, tracing the sharp outline of his jaw.

Even though you were acutely aware of not being alone in the room, for once you did not care. Things were far from clear between you, but now there was no time to focus on all that you did not understand.

“Always” Neil beamed back “Wouldn’t want you to suffer life without me for too long” he smirked.

You lightly smacked him in the chest, not hiding the feelings that could be seen in your eyes. Neil understood; you were sure of that. A sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment, and he sighed.

“I’ll text you” he squeezed your hand for goodbye and left the room without a further word.

Does he even have my number?, you wondered before remembering about TPs presence in the room. He was watching you quietly with a small smile on his face. His expression made you braver.

“You know something you haven’t told us” you mused out loud “About me and him” you added.

He shrugged while still looking at you with an amused gleam in his eyes.

“I only know that while Neil can be an annoying piece of shit sometimes, you do like him. Despite yourself” he chuckled at your horrified expression “Now, why don’t we have a little something to eat while we talk?”

[honorbound-to-the-pen]

Fictober Day #16

Prompt number:16

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Tags: Purgatory (Supernatural)

The Things I Do For You (Pt 4)

Soon after finishing dinner, if a few lizards from Purgatory charred on a stick over a fire could be labelled as such, Dean laid his jacket down on top of the pile of pine needles and leaf litter they had collected and promptly fell asleep, snoring softly. With Dean unconscious for the time being, that left Benny and Cas alone together for the first time. For a while they both sat watching Dean, and watching the other watch Dean, before Benny broke the silence.

    “I’m real sorry for going in on you like that, back at the stream. I know we both want the best for Dean, and that he’s the sole reason you’re coming with us to the portal; stupid as he is, he’s damn loyal, and only to the good ones. So that means you’re one of the good ones, Hotwings. And I ain’t gonna try and boot you out of our happy little family anymore. ‘Specially not since we proved that we can handle the Leviathan together just fine.” Benny threw Cas a salacious wink, chuckling when Cas stared blankly at him. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, angel, just trying to get in bed with you and your boy. But my point is, I’m not going to fight about you coming with us no more. Pretty sure Dean is going to run the next one of us that opens our mouths to fight through with his blade—though that don’t sound so bad.” Benny grinned at Cas again, sighing when Cas’ face stayed blank, his head cocked at an angle that Benny was quickly becoming used to.

    “We are in Purgatory, Benny: we don’t have a bed. But I agree, Dean seems quite displeased with our disagreements, and I believe it would do us all well to limit them to the best of our ability. As you say, Dean can be as reckless as he is loyal, and it will take more than just me to keep him from running headlong towards his death. I would not wish for him to die again, especially not here.” Cas looked around the cave, nodding to himself as he removed his angel blade from his coat and set it on the stone floor, within arms reach.

    “Seems like Dean is real good at getting himself into trouble; guess it’s up to us to get him out.” Benny rolled his eyes, but cast a fond glance in Dean’s direction. “As we get closer to the portal, and the longer the three of us are travelling together, we’re going to attract more attention. So that means we’re going to have to be even more careful than we have been so far; though that may not be too hard, we’ve all been pretty damn distracted lately. I would say all three of us are warm-blooded, but...I think I might be the exception to that rule. Not that anyone could tell.” 

    “As I’m sure you’re aware, I am not completely unaware of your advances, either on myself or Dean. Dean is quite obviously interested in you, and I was aware of that from before you and Dean found me. And please do not mistake my lack of reciprocity for disinterest—I am quite interested, in both you and Dean, and I understand the feelings to be reciprocated in all directions. However, I am much more interested in getting Dean out of Purgatory, irregardless of my inclinations towards physical comfort between the three of us. I’m sure you can understand, despite your and Dean’s...activities since your meeting.”

    Benny whistled quietly and shook his head, a begrudging smile on his face. “Well damn, Dean wasn’t kidding about those blunt observations of yours.”

    Cas was silent for a minute, before quietly remarking, “I’m glad to see Dean talked about me in my absence.”

    “You have no idea, chief. He barely stopped, and it’s for damn sure that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you took off.” Benny raised his hands, a signal of his good intentions. “Not that I’m blaming you, I get why you did it, and I woulda done the same thing. And I know a good thing when I see it, and I ain’t trying to step on what you and Dean have. He loves you, that’s for damn sure, and I ain’t interested in screwin’ that up for him.” Benny smiled, his posture still relaxed, but his eyes were fixed on the fire, and there was a sharp edge to the smile. After several seconds of silence, he turned towards Cas in confusion, who was staring at him, once again with his head at an angle.     “I will never understand the human preoccupation with monogamy.” Leaning forward, Cas pressed a firm, closed-mouth kiss to Benny’s lips, before returning to his position against the wall. “You are correct in your assessment of the feelings between Dean and I, but from my understanding, you and he have already formed a strong bond, something I have no intention of requesting an end to. And while I understand that the primary relationship between you and I is acting as Dean’s protectors, I assure you that I am interested in more than that, though I expect a relationship of that nature would be much easier to maintain outside of this hellhole.”

    “Glad we can agree on that, angel. Things are tough as shit down here, even without all these damn feelings. So maybe once we’re all topside, we can sort this out proper, make sure Dean has to sit down and talk about his feelings for once, instead of pretending they don’t exist.” Benny smiled, and when he looked over he thought he saw a small one mirrored on Cas’ face.

    “Until we can get “topside”, I think it would be in Dean’s, and our, best interest if we utilize our strengths and refrain from second-guessing each other, at least for the time being.”

    “I know where the portal is, more or less. It’s a tricky thing, since it ain’t really supposed to exist, but as long as we have Dean, we’ll find it. I’ll take point while we move on tomorrow, prevent Dean from getting himself killed. And you seem pretty damn handy at telling when those Leviathan bastards are coming, so if you want to bring up the rear, one of us will be the first the monsters see. Dean’s still gonna do something reckless as hell, but maybe he’ll be less likely to get himself killed.”

    “You know Dean doesn’t need protecting, Benny.”

    “I know he don’t need it as much as most people, but he’s in monster Heaven, Cas. He ain’t supposed to be here, and all he’s got is his sword and us, no magic or grace or not needing sleep, not like us.”

    Cas’ face softened, looking over at Dean, whose face seemed younger and more at peace than he had been for a long time, even before Purgatory. 

“I’ll do my best,” Cas said quietly. 

“I know, we both will,” Benny said. 

Cas stood up and walked over to Dean, removing his trenchcoat and gently laying it down on top of Dean, who stirred but didn’t wake up. Cas smiled down at him, but moved back to sit against the wall with Benny, who leaned over and wrapped an arm loosely around Cas’ shoulders. Cas leaned a little closer to Benny, relaxing into him and closing his eyes, trusting Benny to keep watch for a few minutes.

-------

The next day was just as bleak and grey as the previous one, and regardless of the growing exhaustion in all three of them, the trio left the cave and set out towards the portal as soon as Dean woke up. As they had discussed the night before, Benny took point, keeping his blade out and his eyes sweeping the trees ahead of them. Cas was last, listening intently for any indication of approaching Leviathan. That left Dean in the middle, who seemed to have realized that some form of communication had occurred between Benny and Cas, who were working together with a kind of synchronicity they hadn’t had before. 

“Look, I appreciate you two getting all buddy buddy while I was asleep, but I don’t need to be protected and kept in the middle like a little kid.” Dean sounded frustrated, huffing loudly when neither Benny or Cas took the bait and started an argument.

They encountered several groups of Leviathan, who came out of nowhere and always took the group by relative surprise, giving them only a few seconds to prepare to fight. In the beginning, Cas rested his palm on the head of the Leviathan and filled them with grace, burning their souls out until they slumped to the ground. As the day wore on, and the Leviathan kept coming, Cas grew less careful, instead swinging his fist at oncoming Leviathan, or lifting them by the throats and hurling them into nearby trees. Dean and Benny shared a concerned glance, sensing Cas’ growing frustration but not knowing what to do about it.

It all came to a head when the monsters finally stopped, and they could take a moment to rest. As soon as the last Leviathan dropped, Cas turned to Dean and stalked towards him, face tight and jaw set. Dean held his ground, not moving back even when Cas stood inches away from him, their noses almost touching.

“Even if the portal exists, it’s a HUMAN portal, Dean.”

“You sound like a broken record, Cas,” Benny said, trying to warn Cas off. Dean’s face was stony, jaw clenched to match Cas’, but Benny could see the fear in Dean’s eyes.

Benny muttered to himself, “Goddamnit, not this again.” Turning away from the two for a second to rub his eyes and compose himself, he readied a diplomatic smile and soft words.

“There’s still no proof that an angel can pass through.” Cas made eye contact with Dean and held it, flinching back slightly when he saw Dean’s eyes, evidently reading the pain there, but kept pressing.

Dean didn’t back down, staying only a few inches from Cas, lip curled back. “Stow it Cas, you’re coming and that’s final.”

“I’m just saying, if it doesn’t work...thank you. For everything.” Cas’ brow furrowed a bit more, the tension slowly seeping from his body as his hands and shoulders relaxed.

Dean seemed to absorb Cas’ energy, curling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath, shaking with anger, before he pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and closed the few inches between him and Cas. Shoving their mouths together, Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides, the other hand flying to the back of Cas’ head and threading itself into his hair. After a few seconds, Dean pulled back, only far enough to rest his forehead against Cas’ and look into his eyes. Cas looked mildly bewildered, seemingly caught off guard by the aggressive affection, and Benny chuckled quietly.

“Save the Hallmark, ok? It’s going to work; nobody gets left behind.” With his hand on the back of Cas’ head, Dean forced him to make eye contact while he spoke, refusing to let Cas ignore his words.

Slowly, Benny approached them, his hands raised slightly, as if approaching a wild animal. In sync, Dean and Cas turned to look at him, Cas with a look of apparent confusion and Dean with building tension, expecting Benny to side with Cas. 

Instead, Benny said nothing, choosing instead to grab ahold of Cas’ hand where it was dangling, still trapped by Dean’s arm, at his side. His other hand came to rest on Dean’s shoulder, a quiet imitation of the claps on the shoulder the two more often gave each other. He let the pressure of his hand sit on Dean’s shoulder while he made eye contact with Cas, smiling unhurriedly and gently squeezing Cas’ hand. 

For once, no monsters dropped from the sky to interrupt. Dean unconsciously leaned into Benny’s hand, and Cas squeezed Benny’s hand back, still looking confused at the opposition to his abandonment. Benny rolled his eyes fondly, for a moment just letting himself be content.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34345339/chapters/86185750

[lovelyirony]

Footnotes

it’s been a bit since i added to the bookshop au: time got away from me! 

We’re taking over the world/a little victimless crime -Do It All the Time, IDKHBTFM

Tony notices that Bucky doesn’t come into the store for a month. This is fine. Should be fine. Not like he wonders what Bucky will think of the newest latte, which is geared more to the warmer weather that has been breezing in cheerfully. The iced latte, flavored with caramel and coconut, had been a hit with MJ and Ned, who both loved it. 

But Bucky hadn’t come in and tried it.

His anxiety tells him that he is found out and are currently waiting until Tony leaves the building to set up a trap and probably blow up every single book and also him.

But that would be stupid. There’s no way that the Avengers know who Iron Man or War Machine is. Tony Jarvis is a nice guy who runs a bookstore, has a suspicious amount of money from inheritance, and got a degree in English from a local college. 

He even photo-shopped pictures there with Rhodey and everything. (Thank god for anti-aging technology and Rhodey’s genius.)

But he still kind of wants Bucky to come in and look at books. He even has a few records pulled just for the occasion.

“You are quite honestly the worst kind of person,” Rhodey says. “Who gets a crush on who is supposed to be their arch-nemesis and wants to make a custom coffee menu for them?”

“Not me,” Tony says quickly, pushing away the lemon-blueberry scone idea. “And besides if anyone would be my arch-nemesis, it would clearly be Black Widow. We match each other intellectually.”

“Not a chance,” Rhodey says with a snort. “Or did you forget the time you got so nervous you—”

“Hello?” comes a voice from the front. Rhodey immediately cuts off, going back to filing new shipments. Tony looks over.

“Hey, you’re back!” Tony cheers.

Rhodey makes a motion of gagging. Tony flips him off with one hand behind his back as he comes forward.

“Sorry I haven’t been in. Work has been…enlightening.”

“Usually code for ‘I-don’t-get-paid-enough’” Tony teases. “You wanna try an iced coffee drink?”

“I’m game.”

“Sit down at the table, I’ll get it out for you.”

Bucky has to admit that a good apron can do wonders for an ass. Or maybe Tony just has a really nice one. Either way, the view is spectacular.

“What has work been having you do?” Tony asks, pouring in syrup.

“Oh just…the usual,” Bucky says. He’s horrible at lying. He really, really is. “They keep twisting up what they want, it’s getting confusing.”

“Bookshops, luckily, are much simpler than that,” Tony says, smiling. He slides the drink over to Bucky. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

Bucky takes a long slurp. Puts his head back.

“Tony, you ever experienced a masterpiece?”

“Once or twice,” Tony says, smiling.

“This is the damn Mona Lisa of drinks.”

Tony grins. Bucky sips a bit more, sighing in contentment.

“Hey, I know that last time I learned that you sold records. What are, um, your favorites?”

“I’m glad you asked…”

Bucky learns about new music. He learns that he needs to google new bands. AC/DC is a clear favorite of Tony’s, who sings along. It’s a funny juxtaposition with his cardigan and old jeans, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Bucky finds some of the old ones, which Tony doesn’t look surprised at.

“You have an old soul,” Tony says.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bucky mutters.

“Don’t I?” Tony teases. “You act as if you’ve never had iced coffee before.”

Bucky has to turn back to the player to stop from laughing in front of him. What Tony doesn’t know…well. He’s damned sure he doesn’t know that technically all of Bucky’s favorite records were either unable to be found, most likely questionable, or long disintegrated with time.

Oh, Tony knows. He knows for a damned fact that Bucky has never had iced coffee, most likely does not know who the hell Jimmy Carter was and knows how to disassemble and reassemble most weapons in under sixty seconds.

But it’s cute to mess with him. His brow furrows. Tony has a thing for furrows.

“Hey Tony?” Rhodey asks, head popping up from the upstairs. Bucky automatically looks up, finding the face to be vaguely familiar.

“What is it Rhodey-dear?” Tony calls back out.

“I have a computer glitch, you gotta come see it! Now!”

“This better not be a repeat of the pinball incident,” Tony mutters, turning back to Bucky. “I’ll be back in five minutes, I promise.”

“Take your time, love,” Bucky responds.

Bucky then immediately wonders if he bangs his head against the column near him if Tony and Rhodey will hear it. Tony also called his…person “Rhodey-dear.” Dear! Does he even have a chance?

But this brings him to think about Rhodey. He looked familiar. Bucky’s life doesn’t consist of knowing that you know someone from a certain social event and trying to place them. No, Bucky knows people because of two reasons:

1.)         He tried to kill them.

2.)         SHIELD has something on them.

He’s pretty sure that if he was faced with someone like Rhodey, he wouldn’t be able to kill him. Even from the head poking out, he could see a pretty defined shoulder and a look set to his gaze that read as very competent, entirely capable of taking down an authoritarian government, and also probably likes gourmet cheeses. The last one is a guess. But Bucky likes to guess pretty damn accurately.

Rhodey…

Rhodes. Colonel James Rhodes. Close with Tony Stark, who went missing. They thought he had something to do with something. He moved to New York pretty quickly after that, refusing to go into military service to a “previously unreported mental incapacity.”

Bucky smells bullshit.

Tony Stark. Another mystery in this puzzle. Bucky remembers trying to kill Howard and Maria Stark. It was the wrong person. Winter Soldier never missed his targets. Of course, Tony Stark wasn’t the target.

-

Rhodey is freaking out. Someone at SHIELD figured out there was a tiny bug in the system.

“When did they hire someone competent?!” Tony whisper-yells. “I thought they were two years behind schedule!”

“We made that schedule when we were drunk out of our minds from Moscato,” Rhodey hisses.

“Still! It was Moscato. It wasn’t like we drank vodka until we were shit-faced. That would’ve ended up disastrously and possibly given Dum-E and U a new sibling before Butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers wants a baby, just so you know,” Rhodey says.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Tony asks.

“Because you know what you’re doing and I figured you should know what your daughter is up to. It’s very important in developmental psychology.”

“Do not,” Tony hisses. “Let me fix this…”

With a couple more frantic curses, one eye shut, and a yelp, the problem is (mostly) taken care of.

“You think they can trace it?”

“It’ll trace back to a random e-café,” Tony says. “And there will be Justin Hammer who is currently trying to work out why his dating profile isn’t working. I’ll give you a hint: it’s the bio and the fact that he looks like he’s going to bail on paying for your dinner.”

Rhodey smiles, shaking his head and looking out the door.

“Get back down to Barnes. Don’t let him know what this is.”

“When would I?”

“You tend to be a terrible liar around people you like.”

“Why you—!”

“Thank you for helping with the pinball machine again!” Rhodey says, throwing his voice. He shoves Tony out of the office. Tony’s cheeks are bright red, he’s flushed, and he can barely walk down the stairs.

He’s not sure what exactly happened. He knows someone found out about them, tried to trace the bug back. That simply wouldn’t do because Tony runs a legitimate business. Pays taxes on April fifteenth and everything.

“Sorry about that, emergency with a pinball machine game,” Tony says.

“Understandable,” Bucky says. “What was wrong it? A bug get in?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Tony responds, body going tense for a moment. “You want to pick out a new record?”

“Yeah, sure…”

They find out that Bucky absolutely hates the pop, almost-fake music from the fifties.

“It’s…unsettling,” Bucky says, shuddering. “Gross.”

“Let me get some Benny Goodman then,” Tony says.

“How’d you know?”

“Everyone likes his music,” Tony says. “But then again, you did say you were an old soul.”

Bucky can hear the familiar music fill the air as he hums to himself.

“Hey handsome, wanna help me with something?” Tony asks. “I have some books that need to be shelved. I was wondering if you could help?”

“No problem,” Bucky says, grinning. “Can’t reach the top shelf?”

“Why you—”

“I’m shelving!” Bucky calls, grabbing one of the boxes.

Tony thinks that no one should be attractive when they’re lifting boxes. Especially when they’re holding what is essentially about forty pounds with one arm. His left one, but still.

There is also the matter of making sure that Barnes never finds out who he is. Tony has been quite careful about that, although the “bug” comment got to him. Does he know about them? Is he playing some sort of long game?

Answer: no. Bucky got distracted by a book title that he remembers from years ago.

“I forgot I read this,” he says, smiling. “It was forever ago.”

“Old books get to you like nothing else,” Tony responds. “I grew up with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You read that one yet?”

“Add it to the recommended box,” Bucky answers.

He has his own box now. Technically a crate, but Tony’s been putting books there for Bucky when he thinks he’s found one that he’ll like. Which of course, Bucky will like whatever book is in there if Tony chose it. He likes anything Tony chooses. He would wear the worst outfit in existence if Tony chose it.

Shelving goes by with little conversation, although they both hum along to the music being played softly over the intercoms. Tony comes and goes, helping customers with different items, brewing some more coffee, and getting some more boxes.

Bucky likes the routine.

He’s sad to go, taking his books with him and waving a soft goodbye. Tony’s leaning against the doorframe, a fond look on his face as the bookshop light floats out onto dark pavement. He wishes he could be there all the time.

And then, of course, people are in his apartment.

“Bookstore again, huh?” Steve asks. Natasha’s looking through the pile of receipts on the kitchen counter.

“You go there a lot,” she murmurs.

“I like being literate, gives me a headstart on Clint,” Bucky answers glibly.

“Even if someone liked reading this much, they wouldn’t be buying obscene amounts of books and coffee.”

“I don’t buy every book. To—the owner lets me take some home if I return them the next day.”

“You’re on a first name basis?” Natasha asks, eyebrow arched. “Just what bookstore are you going to?”

“One that’s none of your business,” Bucky says.

“It says it on top of the receipt,” Steve says.

Bucky curses.

Steve laughs at him.

[thewaynemanner]

BatFam Favorite Songs and Playlists

Dick Grayson loves anything upbeat he can scream sing along to, but his one true music love will forever and always be 80s Pop music. Not only does it go with his ‘I just got dragged through an 80s costume wardrobe’ aesthetic, but 80s Pop songs are the best to scream sing along to. His 80s Pop Trinity is Cyndi Lauper, Madonna, and ABBA. Currently, his favorite songs are Y.M.C.A by Village People, -Jason: “Jesus Dick, how could Y.M.C.A be your favorite song?” Dick: “I like bending into all the letters!”- Girls Just Want to Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper, and Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA. Dick also knows all the words to (and has choreography for) all the songs in Grease. He even once convinced Jason to song along as Danny in You’re the One That I Want. Dick’s Guilty Pleasure Song: Barbie Girl by Aqua.

Dick Grayson’s Playlist

 Jason likes music that makes Bruce extremely uncomfortable, like Rap (for its explicit language) and any song that can be used to reference his death. But when Bruce isn’t around, Jason prefers a wide range of rock, from rockabilly to classic rock to punk rock, Jason loves it all. His favorite rock artists respectively are Johnny Cash, Queen, and My Chemical Romance. Jason’s favorite songs are I Won’t Back Down by Johnny Cash, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, and I Don’t Love You by MCR. When Bruce is around to annoy, Jason enjoys blasting Hood Go Crazy by 2 Chainz, -Bruce: “I don’t think this is an appropriate song to be playing in the Batcave, Jason.” Jason: “Well Bruce, I didn’t think that letting the Joker live after he killed me was “appropriate”, so agree to disagree.” Bruce: *feels migraine coming on*- and Arms Tonite by Mother Mother -*I died in your arms tonight. I slipped through into the afterlife. It was nice* Alfred: “Master Jason, don’t you think that’s a tad insensitive?” Jason: “Sorry Alfie, but Bruce is kinda insensitive”- Jason’s Guilty Pleasure Song is Pocketful of Rainbows by Elvis Presley, it was the song that Bruce used to sing to him after he’d had a nightmare to get him to go back to sleep. 

Jason Todd’s Playlist

Tim at this point only listens to DiscoTech/ElectroPop because it’s the only music with a beat strong enough to keep him awake. His favorite songs are Boss Bitch by Doja Cat, Play With It by Tommy Genesis, and Rich Bitch Juice by Alice Longyu Gao -*Some people say I look very sad I’m just having my resting bitch face ‘Cause man, I’m tired I’m tired, I’m so fucking tired Drinking my rich bitch juice* Tim: *sipping his rich Bitch Juice* “Mood.” Dick: *Gasp* “Timmy… That most definitely should not be a 'mood’.” Tim: *shrugs and continues to crush up caffeine pills and add them to his coffee* Tim’s Guilty Pleasure Song -Damian: *grumbling* “All his songs should be considered guilty pleasure songs”- is Ken Doll by Gameboi. 

Tim Drake’s Playlist

Damian grew up listening to classical music and doesn’t understand how what his brothers listen to can even be considered music. Damian’s favorite composer -Damian: “Yes, singular composer because you can’t have multiple favorites, Drake. That’s like saying my favorite brothers are Grayson, Todd, and you, when it’s obviously just Grayson”- is Frédéric Chopin. Three classical pieces he is fond of are 24 Preludes, Op.28: No.4 in E Minor by Frédéric Chopin, Comptine d’un autre été, l’apres-midi by Yann Tierson, and Hallelujah (Arr. Cello & Strings) by Leonard Cohen & et al. -Tim: “Honestly surprised the Imperial Death March wasn’t on his list, was pretty sure that was constantly playing in his head.” Jason: “Same.”- Damian’s Guilty Pleasure Symphony is Hedwig’s Theme by John Williams. Jason: “He gets all teary-eyed when he listens to it.” Damian: “I do not, Todd! If you keep spreading such slander, I will eviscerate you.” 

Damian Wayne’s Playlist

 Alfred is quite fond of the Beach Boys, the Beatles, and Elton John. His favorite songs are Let It Be by the Beatles, Bennie and the Jets by Elton John, and Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) by John Lennon. The later he is quite partial to because it always brings back memories or a younger Master Bruce. -Dick: Awww! Bruce is blushing, Alfie!-  Alfred’s Guilty Pleasure Song is When We Were Young by Adele. Selina: *Quirking an eyebrow* Alfred: “I haven’t a clue why you look surprised Ms. Kyle. Ms. Adele is a woman of exceptional talent, I would be a fool not to see that.”

Alfred Pennyworth’s Playlist

Selina loves blues and soul. Her favorite artists are Etta James, Joy Crookes, and Amy Winehouse. Three of her favorite songs are Mother May I Sleep with Danger by Joy Crookes, Me and Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse, and Hell N Back by Bakar (that she heard for the first time when Bruce sang it to her at their engagement party). - Damian: “Kyle’s choice in music is adequate I suppose.” Selina: *trying to smother a smile* - Guilty Pleasure Song: Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC. Selina: *winking at Bruce* Bruce: *Turning a violent shade of red* Tim: “Alfred, I think Selina broke Bruce!”

Selina Kyle’s Playlist

Bruce is a man of classic jazz, easy listening, and rockabilly; his favorite singers are Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Elvis Presley. He’s had the same favorite three songs for the past five years, My Way by Frank Sinatra, Blue Moon by Dean Martin, and Pocketful of Rainbows by Elvis Presley. -Jason: “You’re such a sap, Old Man-“ Guilty Pleasure Song: Hurt by Johnny Cash. -Selina: “Oh no you don’t, you and I both know that’s not your true guilty pleasure.” Bruce: “Selina, please don’t…” Selina: “War Pigs by Black Sabbath. He’s a closeted metal head.”  Bruce: “Selina, you’re suppose to love me.” Selina: “Oh I do, but I also love torturing you too.” *high fives Jason*  Bruce: “It was a phase Selina!”

Bruce Wayne’s Playlist 

[the-trashy-phoenix]

Supernatural season 8 review (part 2)

Link to part 1:

Season 8 is far way better than season 7, and overall one of the best seasons of Supernatural, because in my opinion it brings a lot of new and positive elements to the show, even if it has some flaws (like episode 08x04, I'm sorry but what was that?).

We left Dean and Castiel in purgatory, which from, one year after they got in, Dean escapes with a vampire called Benny (08x01), and reunites with Sam who has retired from hunting and started living a life with a woman, Amelia, who he has already broken up with. The relationship between the brothers is already strained because of Sam (who didn't look for him or for Kevin, who was captured by Crowley), and will eventually have its ups and downs throughout the season. Although I would understand why Sam wanted to live a normal life at this point (especially since everyone he knew died or disappeared), I don't think he should have left Dean in purgatory without looking for him (or for Kevin). They eventually find him and discover that there's also a demon's tablet that could send the demons to hell and close its gates forever, so that becomes their primary mission in season 8. Kevin then has to hide throughout the season to translate the tablet and to avoid being caught again by Crowley, the main enemy of the season. We discover many new aspects of his personality and life (such as his relationship with his mom, who appears in episode 08x02 and is a total badass), but also an evolution, from the terrified student to a prophet who no longer fears even Crowley. The first time I watched Supernatural Kevin was one of my favorite characters, perhaps also due to the fact that he was younger than everyone else and that he was vaguely almost my age, and even today I am fond of him, mainly because I love his character and because I am sorry that he had to live this life against his will.

The first episodes of the season contain a series of flashbacks showing the time the brothers were separated, Sam living a new life with Amelia and Dean in purgatory with Benny and Castiel. While I loved Dean's flashbacks, I admit that those who showed Sam's life with Amelia didn't excite me that much. I never really liked the relationship between the two, perhaps because I never liked Amelia as a character herself (she didn't pass on much to me), plus it allowed Sam to ignore all the problems that I think he should have dealt with in this case. The only thing I liked was being able to see Sam living a normal life, without the need to worry about saving more lives. I also think Sam's behavior throughout his time with Amelia was correct, especially when his husband came back, while I think Amelia should have been more determined and not have left Sam without knowing precisely what she wanted.

The period in purgatory, on the other hand, fascinates me particularly: the fact that it's focused on Dean, my favorite character, or that the dynamics between Dean, Benny and Castiel were much more intriguing made me probably wish there were more flashbacks like that. I forgot how much I appreciated Benny's character: it initially seems that he doesn't care about Dean and that he just wants it to get back to earth, but in latest episodes, especially in the period on earth, we notice how much he cares about him, so that he sacrifices himself to save Sam. We also learn more about him and how, even though he's a vampire, he doesn't want to hurt any human (and the thing I appreciated the most is the fact that he didn't let himself be corrupted by returning to life on earth, proving to be really good). Especially because of Sam and Dean's conflicts over having a vampire as a friend (which actually goes against Dean's usual ideals) Benny and Dean have no way of seeing each other that much on earth and Benny realizes that there's nothing left to stick him to that place (and that's why he decides to stay in purgatory once he saves Sam). Although I don't consider their relationship as strictly romantic as many do (though the basics were there), I've always enjoyed Benny’s relationship with Dean and I was sorry not to see it grow and develop (maybe even in something more, also because the parallels with the relationship between Sam and Amelia are quite present and the breaking up phase was very evident even for Dean, besides Sam, as Charlie makes us notice in episode 08x11, one of the two episodes in which she appears, along with the episode 08x20, and in which the relationship with the brothers, and especially with Dean, progresses to such an extent that she becomes a sister to both of them).

Another evolution of relationships is found between Dean and Castiel. The two end up in purgatory together, but Castiel escapes Dean immediately and he spends a lot of time that year (also with Benny) looking for the angel. Once found, we discover that he had avoided Dean to keep him away from the Leviathans and that Dean had prayed to Castiel every night to try to find him. There are several elements that make the dynamics between the two even more special: the fact that Dean desperately looked for him because he didn't want to leave without him, the joy of finding him again, the terror of finding out that Castiel had avoided and ignored him, and the relief of understanding that he had done so only to protect him add layers of depth to the relationship. When Dean can't save Cas, the guilt haunts him until Castiel shows up in front of him. We find out that Castiel wanted to stay in purgatory as punishment for doing all that damage in the past and that Dean thought he hadn't done enough to help him get out. At this point in the series I think there are at least some scenes that involve a possible outlet in a relationship that goes beyond just friendship. The most obvious moment is certainly in episode 08x17, a scene at the height of a series of events that strictly concern Castiel and his relationship with heaven. He returns from purgatory thanks to the angel Naomi, who puts him under her control, without him knowing it, to spy on the Winchesters especially to find the angel tablet, who could send the angels to heaven forever. Dean, suspicious from the first moment Castiel returns without knowing how, realizes that the angel is not okay and when the two find the tablet he tries in every way to prevent Castiel from taking it. The most shocking element is the fact that Naomi trained him in heaven to kill copies of Dean in such a way that, if necessary, he would also do so in reality. In fact, it looks like Castiel, who is totally controlled by Naomi, has no mercy on Dean and is willing to kill him, but, after an open-hearted speech and the famous "I need you" Dean utters, Castiel frees himself from Naomi's control, spares Dean and cures him. Now, it's indisputable that at "What broke the connection?" we would all answer "Castiel's love for you, Dean", but probably the most appropriate question would be "What kind of love?". From the point of view of a person who loves Destiel, I think Castiel still doesn't really realize the emotions he feels, but that certainly the form of love he feels for Dean comes close to being romantic, more than anyone else. The most obvious thing that makes me notice it is the fact that Naomi chose Dean for Castiel's training, and I think she did because if Castiel was able to kill Dean he would easily kill anyone else. I remember when I was fifteen years old, watching this scene for the first time and not shipping Destiel that much, this moment got me thinking. Castiel, however, once back in himself still takes the tablet and hides it from Dean, not trusting what he could do. Dean, when the two meet again, shows all his disappointment at knowing that Cas doesn't trust him, once again showing how much he cares about the angel. Luckily, the two manage to make peace and collaborate until the last episode, 08x23.

Also in episode 08x17 we meet Meg and, thanks to a conversation with Sam, in which he talks about the love he feels for Amelia, we understand that she feels something for Castiel. Probably if Destiel didn't exist I wouldn't mind seeing more of their relationship, but unfortunately Meg is killed a few minutes after that confession.

Castiel's main purpose during the course of season 8 is to redeem himself from the damage caused previously, and especially to help heaven return as it once was. That's why he lets himself be controlled by Naomi more easily and tricked by Metatron, who appears towards the end of the season and plans to bring all the angels out of heaven, making Castiel believe that they are closing the gates of heaven once and for all. Metatron makes him complete three trials, the last of which is to become a man. Castiel then, at the end of the last episode, finds himself both human and aware that he has caused all angels to fall from heaven, shown as a meteor shower in one of Supernatural's most magical scenes.

In the same episode Dean and especially Sam are busy closing the gates of hell forever. With Kevin's help, they discover that to do so they have to complete three tests, tests that also put a strain on their already rather complicated relationship. Given the danger and possible effects of the trials, Dean is the one who wants to deal with them without further discussion, trying to protect Sam at all costs, but his brother disagrees. And right now we see how Dean is now lacking that hope of lifting up and being happy that he once had. He is convinced that for him there is nothing but hunting for evil and knows that one day he will die doing just that. Hearing these words, especially after seeing the last episode of season 15, completely broke my heart. Because here it is understood that Dean, at least, does not think he is valuable enough to live a happy life outside of hunting, unlike Sam. Several times over the seasons Dean proves to be always the most pessimistic, who doesn't believe that he can win and above all that he is able to move on, and this side of it gets worse and worse, to the point of suicidal thoughts. For a character like Dean, who should have grown and realized that he was valuable enough to be happy, dying without a hint of struggle and survival instinct just when he could have been happy is really a terrible end (but I would say I can vent better about it in last season's review). As much as Dean wanted to be the one who would complete the trials, Sam accidentally passes the first one: to kill a hellhound and bathe in its blood (08x14). Sam, unlike Dean, wants to pass the tests because he wants to live on, optimistic, and so he will try to do it in every way. Dean isn't convinced Sam is the one who has to pass the trials and Sam thinks Dean wants to be the only one doing it because he doesn't trust anyone else, not even his brother. I think the problem isn't that Dean doesn't trust anyone else, but rather that Dean is only willing to hurt (and possibly kill) himself to close the gates of hell, and definitely not the person he cares about the most.

Unlike the first test, I was not completely satisfied with how the second was dealt with (08x19), freeing an innocent soul from hell (who turns out to be Bobby), because I think it was too easy to go to hell and above all find Bobby.

The last trial, on the other hand, is the most complex, the one that has been dealt with in the most interesting way and overall the best one: curing a demon and turning them into a human (08x23). The two brothers document themselves and spend quite some time searching for the magic formula (which is meant to be human blood), but the best thing is the demon on which they test this formula, Crowley, who is the enemy of the season and who proves to be Supernatural's best villain, both for his personality, for his own evolution and especially for his relationship with the Winchesters. A decisive aspect of this evolution is in fact precisely this transformation thanks to Sam's blood, which makes him incredibly more sensitive and empathetic (and in fact, although Sam does not complete the third trial and completely transform it, in the following season Crowley shows aspects of himself never seen before). In fact, Dean, once he learns that Sam, completing the trial, would die, convinces Sam to stop the trials and let go of the plan to close the gates of hell. This scene from the last episode is one of my Supernatural favorites, because it shows how much the two brothers care about each other, although they both made many mistakes, and how hurt Sam is that Dean does not trust him enough and prefers to collaborate with Benny or Castiel. Dean assures him that he is the person he would put in front of everyone else and helps him stop the pain he feels for trying to pass the third trial. While I love Castiel's relationship with Dean, I'm convinced Dean’s priorities are focused on Sam, because Dean not only played the role of older brother, but also father and mother, having been the only one to raise Sam, and the idea of seeing Sam die would completely destroy him (as we have already seen in the second season).

The two brothers, who have always lived alone in motels and cars, for the first time since the beginning of Supernatural find a "home". In episode 08x12, they meet their grandfather Henry, John's father, who has gone into the future to escape a Knight of Hell, Abaddon (who joins him and stays there), and they find out that he's part of an association called Men of Letters, the collectors of information on the supernatural who collaborate with a few hunters to handle the monsters, located in a bunker in Kansas. They then discover that they are also their legacy and decide to use that bunker, full of information that they were not aware of, as a base and home for research against the monsters they have to hunt.

The fact that the Winchesters finally have a place to live and create memories, the focus on the trials and the relationship between the two brothers, purgatory, Dean's relationship with Benny and Castiel and the fall of the angels are some of the elements that make season eight one of my favorites.

[artsynoova]

3., 4., and 5. For Cassandra and Benjamin?

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? Benjamin "It could have been worse I guess. D-don´t get me wrong! I know a lot of people had it far worse, it just... I never had time to be an actual child, it was work and studying most of the time, and the other time...I would prefer not to talk about it. Fond memories? When reading stories with my siblings and playing with Cassy, although we often got in trouble" Casandra"A really happy one actually! Spent a lot of my time playing with my cousins, and my siblings when they arrived. Helped my parents where I could, It was nice. Uff, fond memories, summertime in my hometown. Or playing with Benny, he was so quiet back then, well kind of still is. Bad memory...My grandfather´s passing. It was unexpected and quite ugly"

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Benjamin"My dear mother...I had a really good relationship with her, she took care of me as best as she could, she taught me piano, also a bit of cooking, that was a really lovely memory. The least we talk about my excuse of a father, the better"

Casandra"My parents were the best! They were very supportive of my crazy ideas when I was little, they worked a lot, but they spent the little free time they had with us. Fond memories, cooking lesson with my dad, and when I rode a broom with my mom for the first time, even if I end up with a broken arm, haha...I said some harsh things the last time I saw them, I hope is not too late to make amends..."

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? Benjamin"I have five siblings: Bruno, Heidi, Luka, Conrad, and little Marie. My relationship with Bruno was...difficult, to say the least, all thanks to a stupid rivalry our father created between us. Heidi and I were close, we played piano together. Luka and Conrad were both really reserved, but we bond reading together, Luka liked fiction, and Conrad like science, and Marie, well, I took care of her most of the time because my mother got sick for a while, I really bond with her, she was my little princess. I really hope they are safe" Casandra"I have three crazy siblings, Thomas, Ho-,sorry, Hali and David. Thomas was a really happy kid, we goof around all the time. If you think I´m impulsive you should see him! He never thinks before acting, Trying to keep him safe was a challenge. Hali and David are actually my blood cousin, but they live with us since babies, so I only see them as siblings. Hali was a really troubling kid, we fought, but at the end of the day, we knew we had each other. David is an angel, even though he´s the youngest, he´s the most mature of the four, he helped me a lot trying to keep the other two safe. He really trusted me, I was the first one to know who he really was,I did my best to support him. I really miss them, I hope they can forgive me for leaving..." Woo! This was a bit long! but here you go. Thanks for asking!

[its-sixxers]

For the soft OC asks: 🌼🌾🍄

🍄 answered here! 🌾 I have another ask for so I’ll link to that once it’s done to kind of space out how THICC these posts are lol. This one is VERY LONG I am so sorry

🌼 Who are this characters friends and found family? How did they meet, how long have they been friends for, could they ever be something more than just friends? What do they look for in a friend or a romantic partner?

Tin Lizzy

Lizzy’s really fond of the people of Megaton - Moira, Gob, Nova, and Walter are the people she’s closest to and will make a point of visiting whenever she’s in town. They were the first people she came across once she was out of the Vault, and their kindness really helped her get it together and go out into the wild unknown in search of her father. In terms of very close friends, though, Butch and Charon are her ride or dies. Butch she’s been friends with since childhood (though they had a rough period of time where Butch was an exceptional asshole), and despite him being one of the best looking guys in the Wastes he’s firmly in ‘brother’ territory for her. Any time someone suggests they date the two usually look vaguely nauseous at the concept. Charon is someone she ends up crushing on once the man’s comfortable enough speaking normally around her, but given the nature of his contract it’s not something she acts on. until later Lizzy’s also convinced there’s no way Charon could be into her given that she’s a lot younger than him and feels generally useless unless there’s a terminal to be cracked, a book to be read, or a wound to be stitched.

Lizzy’s not picky about her friends at all - age, whether they’re a ghoul or not, their vocation or social status - none of that bothers her, which gets her some side-eyes. If a person is kind and good at heart, and someone who is willing to talk with her, that’s all she needs. When it comes to romantic partners - the girl has zero experience and doesn’t even know what she needs. It’s not something she actively seeks (though Butch tries to wingman for her). What romance she ends up in is something that happens pretty organically and usually by accident.

Carmen

She’s got a crew of fuck ups, and she loves them dearly. In her own Carmen way. In order of meeting them: Boone, Cass, Veronica, and Arcade are the people she’s closest to - though she’s had other traveling companions. All of them are screw ups or outcasts, and they all have a shared bond because of it. After getting shot by Benny, it’s only about three years before she ends up leaving the Mojave - but in those three years she loves a lifetime’s worth with the gang. She never forgets them.

Arcade and Veronica are the voices of reason - Arcade’s a little more rigid and idealistic, while Veronica is flexible and pragmatic. Arcade isn’t into women, while Carmen got the picture pretty quickly that Veronica’s pretty hung up on Christine. Carmen wouldn’t really pursue anything romantic with either of them if it was an option, as in the long-term her personality would clash - Carmen’s on the chaotic spectrum while the two of them are pretty orderly. That, and she treasures their input as friends - she can rely on them to tell it to her like it is and to be willing to disagree, they don’t have any reservations romance could give.

Cass and Boone are the ‘this is a bad decision and I support you in it’ gang. All three of them are pretty hotheaded and it’s a recipe for disaster if Arcade and Veronica don’t manage to get everyone to CHILL OUT. Cass is 100% Carmen’s type (competent, opinionated, but also able to share a comfortable silence), but she’s given Carmen the impression of not being into women and any desire on Carmen’s part to pine ended pretty quickly thanks to fuckn’ Boone. Carmen’s relationship with Boone is a disaster in that she’s quite desperate to be more than friends but respectful of his trauma, while he’s constantly toeing the line and continually almost going too far. until he does

Carmen’s attracted to people who don’t follow the norm. Whether that’s telling authority to fuck off, being isolated from civilization from one reason or another - people who stand out and are their own people are people she wants to be around. Passion is another big draw. When it comes to romantic partners - she wants someone she can depend on, and someone who doesn’t freak out when they see her at her darkest.

Eleanora

Her friends are her rock and what keeps her sane. Outside of the Railroad (who are the epitome of her found family - Deacon king of them all), Nick, Piper, and Preston are people who she thinks of as her new family. Arguments and all. They’ve helped her acclimate to a life post-War, and they’ve all been the reason for her mindset slowly shifting to realize that the Commonwealth is actually a much better place than it was before the war when it comes to the people in it. Way more people are genuine and care a lot about their fellow human beings (if they haven’t become raiders or worse).

When it comes to more than friends - she’s aware that Preston had a brief crush on her. She never went for it because of the age difference - she’s a lot older than he is - and because she had a pretty good inkling that the crush was more hero worship than genuine. Piper and Nick have always been pretty friendzoned. Unfortunately for the people in the Railroad, Nora met Deacon at the same time she met them and that’s all she wrote. She will admit Drummer Boy is far too pretty for his own good, and Desdemona definitely had her reconsidering if she was really that hetero.

As someone with a melancholic personality, Nora is drawn to high energy or optimistic people. Friends who can haul her out of her shell and get her excited about life are a godsend. Romantically, people who are passionate, driven, and able to understand her are who she chases.

Soft OC Asks