#their posts used to make me cry Back In The Day

[4milly]

childish - jey u.

parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader

warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),

word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)

you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…

the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.

jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.

the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.

all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.

"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.

she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.

a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.

you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.

your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.

the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch. 

for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.

you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.

yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.

"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor

the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"

speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.

"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."

"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"

"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"

you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"

"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise

"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."

jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.

he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"

jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"

the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.

the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.

jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.

you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.

"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands

"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.

"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.

"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.

"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"

you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.

it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.

jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.

all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.

after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.

nothing more.

He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”

you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.

the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.

slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.

jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.

"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."

you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.

jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.

slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"

you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.

you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.

"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."

he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.

"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."

jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"

"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"

you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.

"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won

as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.

the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.

you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.

right where you belonged.

"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."

jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.

he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."

your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.

"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.

Jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."

each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.

"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.

"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.

"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"

"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic

jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.

you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.

"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."

you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."

"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.

you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.

he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "don’t let these little things mess with us. we're gonna start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."

his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.

jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.

his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."

you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.

yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?

right?

❦

don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3

tags:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku

merry christmas! 💘

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 7 - Well This Is Awkward

CW: Angst, mention's of alcohol, mentions of panic attack's, mental health, mentions of injuries, mentions of death.

Did I mention I like medical dramas?

Previous parts - masterlist - next

Your therapist is nice. You’ve been going to her for the past 3 months, you were only supposed to go for a single session. Then the army insisted on more. Johnny was sent home on medical leave a few days after you left. He came to see you and stayed the night. 

The next morning you had to tell him to leave, it just wasn’t the same. 

‘I’ll be staying at the house if you want to visit?’ 

Shit, you forgot about the house. The place you all pitched in to buy, so you all had somewhere to stay when you were on leave. Everyone’s flats are too small to accommodate all 5 of you. Besides, flat hopping everyday across London was expensive. 

‘I’ll talk to John when he’s back.’ All you want back is the deposit. 

“Do you feel guilty?” She asks you. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at her. 

“No.” You say, she hums. You hate it when she does that. You don’t know why it is a particularly tough session. You just want to go home. “They hurt me. I don't feel guilty about that.” 

“You left the unit though.” Bitch. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that.” 

“Okay fine. I feel guilty about leaving Johnny and Kyle.” You snap back. Anything to get her to sign you off so you can go. You look up at the clock, you still have at least 40 minutes left in this season. 

“Have you got your letter from the university yet?” She asks changing the subject. You nod. After a few weeks of crying on the bathroom floor and drowning yourself in bottles of vodka you decided to get your shit together. 

“That’s good, what's the plan going forward?” 

“I’ll be posted on a base somewhere where I can get hands-on experience in trauma care. With studying on the side.” You say without going too much into the complications. 

“So the army is actively helping you, that's good.”  

“Yeah I think they’re willing to do anything so long as I don’t sue them.” You scoff under your breath. She hums.

You don’t know how true that is, maybe it’s just something you tell yourself so you don’t feel so conflicted over how accommodating they’ve been. They’re paying your uni bills and even got you one some army teaching program aimed to fast track you through the ranks. 

“What about Kyle and Johnny? Have you heard from them since you spoke to them last?” Fucking bitch. You sigh, turning away from her. The last time you spoke to them was almost a month ago. They text you from time to time, try to call you. 

You’ve ignored them, so much that you feel like anything you say to them will just be meaningless. 

“Yeah, they’re deployed.” You lie. She smiles. You look back up at the clock. 

30 minutes to go.

______________________

Iraq is hot. That you expected but the hospital’s electricity is sketchy at best. You have to keep the air-con off to make sure the ventilators don’t cut out. The US built this place, you’re only supposed to be here for another week at least before you’ll move again. 

As soon as the electric is fixed it will be handed over to the UN to run, until then it was getting a dry run as a combat hospital. Lots of blown off limbs and bullets to pull out people. Lots of death. 

You told Johnny and Kyle where you were going when you got your placement. You’re trying to patch things up with them after basically leaving them on read for almost 3 months. Your therapist said it would be a good thing to do. 

The sun is setting, you're sitting outside watching as it touches the top of the distant mountains. The place is busy, friendly forces are still pretty much living here. It’s the only safe zone in this part of the desert, why the UN wanted a hospital out here you’ll never know. 

Something about re-urbanisation of previously controlled territories. You don’t care, you're here to pull bullets out of people and save lives. Other than your mentor-Dr. Sands-you’re the only other doctor on the base. Doctor is a loose term, you’re technically still a student, but you ace all your skills labs, and the army is begging for help apparently. 

You let out a breath, finishing the rest of your drink and getting up and pulling your white lab coat on. 

“Well, fancy seeing you ‘ere.” You hear a familiar thick accent behind you. You turn to see Johnny standing behind you. 

What the fuck.

You’re hugging him before you can stop yourself. You see Kyle, John and Simon stood behind him. They’re all geared up, weapons slung over their chest or back. 

You thought you would feel something when you saw them. Maybe you'd want to run, scream, cry, anything. You feel nothing, just numbness.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Oh you know, Shepherd says jump, we say how high.” he says nudging you, it makes you smile and you shake your head. 

“Finally going for the MD?” He asks, pointing at the student doctor tag on your coat. 

“Yeah well, you like putting bullets in people. I like pulling them out.” 

“Oh yeah not even the occasional love tap?” He jokes, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Only the bad guys.” You reply. You look up at Kyle who’s smiling. Then John and Simon. 

“You look good.” John says. 

“Yeah well that’s what 6 months of therapy will do to you.” It’s bitter, harsher than you expected it to be. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him in 6 maybe 7 months. He hasn’t changed a bit. He still smiles at you, his body language open, his hands on his hips. 

Simon stands with his arms crossed, his presence is looming, making hairs stand up on the back of your neck. 

“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle says, you nod at him. 

“Oh when we’re back we should catch a bite to eat.” Johnny says enthusiastically, moving away over to Kyle. 

“You can tell us what to avoid in the mess.” Kyle adds. You smile again. You go to open your mouth but your pager beeps. You look down at it. It’s the doctor. 

“Yeah, when you’re back, come find me.” You say turning into the building. 

“Stay safe!” Johnny calls.

“Yeah you too!” You call back pulling your radio off your hip. When you make it through the door you squeeze your eyes closed for a second and let out a long breath. 

Now you hate this hospital even more. 

______________________

It’s dark out now. You look over at the clock and it's almost midnight. You’re sat at the nurses station listening to them talk about whatever drama is going on in the next base. You still can’t believe you ended up in the same base as 141. 

They’ll be gone soon, even Johnny seemed surprised, maybe he thought you’d be gone by now. Now you have to eat with them at some point. Johnny and Kyle at least.

The doctor left an hour ago to go to another base for a surgery. You’re used to this taking the night shifts. Normally you just sleep and get woken up a few times for the nurses to ask for medication changes. You’ve only ever had one trauma come in at night and the doctor was there to help you with the limited night time staff. 

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, you were restless trying to think about what they were doing here? Who were they after? How long would they be here? At least at the nurses station you can listen to the nurses and let their gossip distract you. 

The red trauma phone rings. For a second you think it’s a joke, it’s the normal phone. Nope, the red light is flashing on it. You stand up picking it up. 

“Trauma.” You say.

“Got one incoming, ETA 15 minutes. GSW to the chest, breathing unconscious. 30 year old male.” You hear an American voice say as you write it down. You don’t have time to worry or be nervous. This is what you live for, you let the adrenaline pump through you. It clears your mind as you take down the information. 

“Copy, what’s the name?” 

“Riley.” Your heart stops.

“Say again?”

“Riley, Simon Riley.”  

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You’re squeezing the phone in your hand, the pen has fallen to the floor. You look over at the nurses already pulling gowns on and getting into position in the resus bay. 

You don’t even register saying copy and putting the phone back. You turn away from the nurses braising yourself on a filing cabernet. 

Simon’s shot. All you can see is his face, his body covered in blood. He’s always so careful, he’s always the one dragging people out the field not getting shot. Something must have gone horribly wrong. 

You weren't there. He’s shot and you weren't there to save him. 

You suck in breaths of air, the adrenaline isn’t helping now. 

“Doctor?” You hear one of the nurses call. You turn to look at them, you have to keep it together. 

“Page the doctor.”

next

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[keanusbabydoll]

JEALOUSY

paring: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, dom!daryl, unprotected p in v, spanking, degrading, praising, rough sex, daddy kink, punishment, doggy style, porn with no plot

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i’m so sorry for not posting but college was stressing me out way too much and i got sick a few days ago… but here i am- blessing you with daryl dixon smut ;)

MDNI

𑁍ꨄ❦❥𖣔✰༄⁂᯽𖦹☾♡♥✯☼᪥⍟ꨄఌ❦𑁍𖣘★᪥༄❁᯽✫

“slow d-down.” is what you managed to squeak out before daryl pushed your face into the mattress of your shared bed. he had you in doggy style; angry, jealous, aggressive. his dick was hammering into your abused hole in an punishing way, never planning on slowing down or going gentle.

“ya don’t get ta tell me what ta do.” he growled out as he gripped your hips’ flesh tighter and reached around your middle to spank your pussy, eliciting a loud, muffled cry from you. you were spasming beneath him, wishing he would be more softer. but not with daryl.

and all that just because you went on a hunt with rick. daryl knew that rick was interested in you, found you attractive. he told you many times before that he didn’t like it when you spend time with rick. he was a very possessive man. you were only his. hell, if it were up to him, he’d blow a fist to every guy’s jaw who just looked at you too long for his liking. but you were bored, daryl was out as well, so you decided to just join him, not thinking about the consequences.

“goin’ out with rick. fuckin’ slut.” he continued, his pace just increasing and getting even rougher. “i thought ya knew better.”

he kept pushing his whole length into your pussy as he landed a harsh slap to your ass. “count.” he said before gripping the roots of your hair, pulling your body slightly up.

smack.

his free hand landed another stinging slap to your ass cheek.

“one.” you whimpered out, body surging forward from the sudden sensation.

smack.

“two.” you cried out as the first few tears that formed in the corner of your eyes began to pour down your face.

smack.

“t-three.”

“ya ever gonna do tha’ again without ma permission?” daryl snarled, his grip just tightening and his hips started to pound you in an animalistic pace, letting out all of his pent up anger and frustration. you tried to wriggle out of his grip, trying to get away from his torture but it was useless.

“speak.” he ordered furiously as he landed another hit to your ass.

“n-no. i promise.” you moaned out, eyes tightly shut.

“good.” he mumbles before he slapped your ass for the last time, using all of his strength, wanting you to suffer and realize what you’ve done wrong. jolts of stinging pain cursed through your whole body and a scream escaped your mouth.

daryl chuckled darkly in reply and smirked pleasingly to himself to see his fire red handprint on your ass. at that point you were a whimpering mess but you would have lied if you said you didn’t like it. daryl pushing you to your limits was definitely something you enjoyed even though it was really intense.

with his hand still tangled in your hair, he pulled you up against his chest, hips still thrusting in the same, rough pace like before. sometimes you wondered how that man could have such a great stamina- you had been going for one hour already.

“do ya like it when daddy punishes ya?” daryl rasped in your ear, his hot breath fanning on your neck. “yes!” you squeak out, throwing your head back against his chest. you didn’t even fully register his words, being to caught up by the feeling of his cock kissing that one spot that made you see stars. a spot you didn’t even know existed before you had met daryl.

and the new position only allowed him to hit it better, to hit it more intensely. your legs felt like giving out and the pleasure you received brought you closer and closer to your release. daryl smacked one of your breasts harshly before twisting and pulling on a nipple, making you whine out in pain. “is ma lil’ slut gonna cum?” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock- always a sign for him that you’re close.

“fuck! yess, daddy. i’m so-so close!” you cried out, voice latched with desperation. you needed this release dearly. he had edged you for the past hour and your core was burning for an orgasm.

you heard him chuckle darkly as he wrapped a hand around your throat with a firm grip and turned your head sharply only to claim your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “beg for it.” he mumbled against your lips, his free hand gliding down your sides and hips before reaching your pussy.

you whined out in frustration but kissed him back hungrily. “please d-daddy! let me cum! i’ll be a good girl, i promise. i only belong to you, only you can make me cum!” you pleaded him, trying your best to hold your orgasm in, but with daryl rubbing your swollen clit, it’s almost impossible.

“ma good girl.” he whispered before pulling you in again. “ya are allowed ta cum.” he sped up his hips, the sound of your skin clapping together growing louder and his digits circled your clit faster. your moans and cry’s were muffled by his mouth and you were at the verge of cumming, just mere seconds away.

with a last thrust of daryl’s hip, hitting your special spot roughly, he sent you over the edge. you tore away from his lips and let out a sinful scream, letting him know how good he made you feel. your eyes were tightly shut as you let your orgasm crash through you, feeling it in every single part of your body. daryl fucked you through your high, wanting you to experience it to its last bit- but also chasing his own.

he harshly pushed your upper body forward again, grabbed both your wrists and held them tightly behind your back. his head leaned back in ecstasy, the feeling of your velvety walls making him go feral. he used his whole strength fucking into you, being extremely close to his orgasm. you couldn’t contain your screams anymore, the overstimulation sending shock waves through your whole body. his free hand gripped your hip as he used you as his own personal fuck toy, only thinking about his pleasure. “fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” he growled.

and when your walls clamped down on his dick firmly, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. with a guttural groan and stuttering hips, he spurted his seed deep inside of you, painting your perfect walls in white. your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim- something you’ve always enjoyed.

finally, after a few more thrusts, daryl’s pounding came to an halt and he breathed out heavily. “fuck.” he groaned as he slowly pulled out of your slick hole, both of you moaning at the loss. he released both your wrists before he collapsed beside you, a hand placed on his chest- dearly trying to catch his breath. you laid there motionless, you were completely fucked out and exhausted from his sweet torture.

“c’mere baby.” daryl whispered as he pulled your form into his embrace. he snuggled up against your back, his face nestling in the crook of your neck while a hand around your waist pulled you in closer. “ya did so good for me.”

you didn’t reply, your mind was still clouded with the intense after waves of your orgasm. “i wasn’t too rough, was i?” daryl suddenly asked, sounding more concerned now, considering the fact that you hadn’t said a word or moved a single muscle.

“maybe a little, but i liked it.” you tiredly mumbled but still with a smirk plastered on your face. daryl chuckled at your reply and kissed your cheek, relieved that you enjoyed it. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more.” you replied before drifting off into a deep sleep.

REQUESTS ARE OPENED!!!

[st-eve-barnes]

I always make this end of the year post on here looking back on the good and bad things that happened that year but I don't really know where to begin this time. Ever since we buried my aunt in February and had a car accident on the same day this year has felt very off and it hasn't changed since.

Even yesterday we celebrated Christmas with the family and it ended in drama, which just does not happen in our family, ever. (it involved my sister's bf, our family is fine). But it just feels in line with the rest of this weird year.

There's been several deaths around us this year and I've never had as many sick days before, nothing big (I'm lucky here) but many smaller things piling up.

I've been quiet on here lately in fandom as well because I feel like I lost my fangirl vibe a bit. I stopped writing months ago and just been feeling very meh about it all (of course the disappointing season 2 and now lack of content doesn't help). It is what it is, I can't force it.

But let me end with the positive because there have been a lot of good things and many beautiful moments as well. One of the major things for me this year is that I managed to kick my depression. I was in a very dark place last year and the beginning of this one, crying so often for no reason and feeling very out of touch with everything. I'm glad to say I've been feeling much better in that department. The goal for next year is to now kick my anxiety because that one has been on a high this year (how could it not with the state of the world right now??)

But back to the positive, while I've been quiet on here I've been more present in real life, focussing on other hobbies and spending more time outside. When I stopped writing I also picked up reading books again and I'm really enjoying it and indulging in it. My husband has been through it all with me last year and it only confirms what I already knew, that he is the best guy in the entire world. We've grown closer this year (if that was even possible), he is my rock and the absolute best thing in my life.

I'm not quite sure what next year will bring, my anxiety makes it hard to feel entirely positive, but we have a lot of things to look forward to and I hope fandom can pull me back in and I might even write something again one day. But I'm not forcing the muses to come back, things are good as they are now and you might get more aesthetic than fandom posts on this blog for a while longer ;)

I want to tag some people that have kept me company during this year. I hope your holidays are everything you want them to be and the next year will bring you good things❤️ (this goes for all my mutuals not just the ones I tag because I will forget so many people)

@neonhairspray @whitedarkmoonflower @koediepatoedies @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @bouncehousedemons @lipstipsky @felteppsters @kaelatargaryen @ms-oswald @lovebittenbyevans @aemonds-fire @dr-aegon @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @lord-aldhelm @persephonerinyes @poppy-in-the-woods @anjelicawrites @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @livmondcole @sylasthegrim @thenameswinter99

[okaysonny]

the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan

❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!

ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)

ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry

ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)

how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes

divider: @thecutestgrotto

"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"

"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"

"…eli…i can't believe this…"

of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?

"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "

"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.

eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.

"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"

well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"

zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.

he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"

eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.

"…thanks, zack"

"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"

zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.

"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"

eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"

with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.

"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.

"ba!" she squeals.

his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"

he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.

eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"

zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"

eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.

"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"

"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"

okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"

johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.

"ba?"

she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.

Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?

whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?

johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"

"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"

yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.

"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.

johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"

"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"

yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.

johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"

zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"

"we?"

"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.

johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”

zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"

"...gross"

"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.

zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.

“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.

“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”

johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”

“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.

“pass”

“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.

“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.

“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.

“what do you know about babies, johan?”

he shrugs. "if you say so"

yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.

“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.

“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”

“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"

“...right”

“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.

for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.

“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”

johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”

“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”

johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”

they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.

the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"

johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.

“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”

“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"

johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.

“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.

“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.

johan's face is laced with panic.

“where’s the baby?”

“what are you talking about? she’s right—”

but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.

we left her on the bus.

"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"

"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"

the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.

zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"

zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.

"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"

they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.

they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.

zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?

he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"

"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"

they both stand in contemplation.

they can fix this, right?

"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.

his smile falters.

strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.

he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.

"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"

johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"

zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"

zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.

"i-it's eli" he stammers.

a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"

zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.

"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"

"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"

"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"

"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.

fuck.

johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.

zack closes his eyes, pausing.

he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.

what the hell are you doing? he mouths.

zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.

"act like a baby" he hisses.

"over my dead body"

"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.

"...you wouldn't"

"wanna find out?"

"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"

"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.

zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.

radio silence.

"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"

"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.

johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"

zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"

"...i thought her name was yenna?"

the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.

until today.

the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.

“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”

the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”

“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.

he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”

“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”

"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"

“i’m asking myself the same question”

hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

this is new.

he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.

or men, he should say.

the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.

they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.

the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so��� i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”

"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.

"...she's here"

zack and johan sigh in relief.

"is one of you the father?"

zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"

the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"

fuck.

zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.

"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"

zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.

the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.

johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.

"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.

radio silence.

if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"

that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.

yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.

the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”

standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.

he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"

as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.

johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.

zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.

a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”

johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”

zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”

johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"

they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.

he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.

but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.

the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.

it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.

he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.

"what a progressive world we live in"

after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.

"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"

"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.

zack nods solemnly. "good"

"zack! hey!"

he sees eli walk over, sally with him.

zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.

"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.

yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.

he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"

"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"

eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"

i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.

he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"

he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"

he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.

"hey zack?"

"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.

is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?

eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.

"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.

zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.

"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.

eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.

eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.

"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.

"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"

PUNCH

"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"

PUNCH

A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜

[jessicaloons]

INVISIBLE STRING: FROM THE VAULT

Part 3: A Christmassy story…

Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone 🎄🎅🏻♥️

Better late than never! As it is during Christmas, it all gets a little hectic and what I wanted to post last night had to be postponed to today… it’s a little something I started to write a year ago, at Christmas, while watching one of my all time favourite Christmas movies.

And now no more talking, here it is…

Christmas 2027:

"Radiation?" Joris cocked an eyebrow.

"Radiation." I shrugged my shoulders and he chuckled "Don’t ask. It’s- it’s her newest ick…"

"You’re surrounded by radiation the entire day with having your phone with you? So where’s the difference at ni-…"

"That’s exactly the point. Your body is exposed to radiation all day long, so at night, when it resets, there shouldn’t be any radiation!" Lizzie’s voice rang out behind us, making Joris flinch "I’ve read it in various magazines! So it can’t be that wrong!"

I had to chuckle, looking at Joris’ petrified face when Lizzie glared at me, although I could see her eyes getting watery.

"It’s not funny!" her voice strained.

"It’s not, cara mia. You’re right. I’m sorry." I replied.

"I’m not crazy…" she sniffled a little and I felt bad.

"No, you’re not! I know that, okay?" I said immediately and got up from my seat, cupping her cheek and gently stroked the side of her bump "You’re doing everything to protect our babies… so whatever you think is best we’ll do! You’re an amazing mum, okay?"

She only nodded slightly and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

"I lay down for a bit…" she whispered and waddled off, taking a short look into Emmie’s room, before she continued to our bedroom.

"I swear I didn’t want to upset her!" Joris looked at me with big eyes and I sighed, sitting back down.

"Believe me, same. The last 2 or 3 days it’s been tough, she’s more emotional than usually…" I rubbed my temples, leaning back "One moment she’s happy and bubbly, the next moment she cries about how there’s only one apple left and that it might feel alone… and then she’s mad at herself for crying about such ridiculous things which makes her cry even more because she thinks I’m annoyed of her being an emotional mess… which is not true at all. I love it. I swear."

"You’re probably the only guy on earth who loves his pregnant wife’s mood swings." Joris laughed.

"It’s cute… when she’s this bubbly Lizzie, who turns over a jar she can’t open first super frustrated and then grumpy like never seen before and curses it like there’s no tomorrow, just to be sad the next moment that whatever’s in the jar is lost forever…"

"And then you chime in and save the day…" he wiggled with his eyebrows and I held up my hands.

"You know, not all heroes wear capes… but they still get a proper thank you… if you know what I mean…"

"Yeah. No. Gross…"

Right when I wanted to reply I heard the soft steps of Emmie and Arlo approaching and when I turned a little I saw them both walk around the corner.

"Dada? Mummy look sad?" her sweet little voice sounded truly concerned and I opened my arms, hoisting her up into my lap "Why mummy sad?"

"She’s not sad, Emmie. Just a little emotional."

"Emonal?" she repeated and I smiled.

"Emotional…" I said slowly, while she quietly said the word again "That’s when you feel all sorts of emotions… that’s feelings. Sad, happy, tired, funny, moody… and you just don’t know what’s the real feeling. So you get a little overwhelmed with emotions… it’s nothing bad. It happens. Especially when someone carries a baby, or like mummy two, in their belly…"

"Mummy feel for baby one and baby two?" Emmies eyes widened and I had to chuckle.

"Yes, my little princess, that’s exactly what mummy’s feeling. Her feelings and baby one and twos feelings."

"Lot of feelings!"

"Oh yes! A lot of feelings!" I nodded and she sighed, cuddling into my chest "You know what? Why don’t you help me and Joris make some hot chocolate for mummy?"

Emmie’s eyes lit up and she jumped off my lap, already pulling me up on my feet before she grabbed onto Joris hand, doing the same.

"Comes on, Jojo! Hot chotlat for mummy!" she chirped and pulled him with her.

"I’m coming, Emmie-bug." he laughed and picked her up, following me into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the kitchen island.

"Emmie hot chotlat, too!" she looked first at me and then at Joris with her big puppy eyes and I could melt away on the spot.

"Let’s make hot chocolate for us all, okay? And then we can watch a movie before bedtime, how does that sound?"

"No bedtime."

"Emmie, we have to get up early tomorrow! We’re leaving for Christmas!" I reminded her but she shook her head.

"No bedtime." she repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No bedtime means no Christmas, and no Christmas means no pops and grams, no granny, no Liam or Elijah… no Arthi!"

"No Arthi?" Emmie whispered and I nodded.

"Also no presents…"

"Emmie like bedtime."

"Yeah?" I asked and she nodded.

"Bedtime comfy. Jojo read story?" she turned and looked at him "Pwease?"

"Of course, Emmie-bug. Every story you want!" he cooed at her and she clapped happily.

"Now chotlat for mummy!"

"Now chocolate for mummy."

"Charles?" Lizzie whispered and I turned a little, trying to make her out in the dark "I’m sorry…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness and saw her perched against the headboard.

"For being over emotional… and unreasonable…" she said and I sat up to switch on the lamp on the night stand.

"Hey, you’re not over emotional or unreasonable!" I replied, rubbing my eyes, facing her.

"I am. The other day I cried because of a pair of socks I had to throw away since one of them had holes…"

"It was a nice pair of socks!"

"Charles…" Lizzie chuckled and I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles "I’m serious! I feel like I’m way worse than when I was pregnant with Emmie!"

"Yeah of course! You’re carrying twins, cara mia! Double the trouble!"

"Is that why I could eat all the damn time? I’m always hungry…" she sighed and I laughed, looking at her pouting.

"And what does my pretty girl want right now?"

"Now? Oh… umm… I’m not hungry…" she looked away and I gently grabbed her chin, turning her head.

"Lizzie… I know you… it’s 1 am that’s your time… so, what can I get for you?" I stifled a yawn.

"I’m fine… you’re tired and we’ll be picked up early…" she mumbled but I shook my head.

"Pretty girl…" I scooted closer, cupping her cheek "What do you want? Fruits? Something salty? Ice cream? A burger?"

"Some sour gums and-… it’s weird, because usually I don’t like them… salt and vinegar crisps? Do we have that?"

"On it…" I pecked her lips and shuffled out of the bed, stretching as soon as I stood up "Anything else?"

"Umm… one of these strawberry lemonades maybe?"

"Anything my pretty girl wants." I said, grabbing my sweatpants that got stuck somehow and I pulled harder almost tripping over when I finally freed it.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded.

"It got stuck somehow… I don’t know… get comfy I’ll be right back." I slipped on my pants and left our bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen I stopped at Emmie’s bedroom and took a look inside.

Our little girl tucked in under her blankets, Arlo guarding her, sleeping right in front of her bed. He must’ve felt my presence, lifting his head looking at me. He got up, yawned and then trotted over, tilting his head.

"All good, Arlo. Just me." I whispered, kneeling down "Go watch our little princess." I stroked his fluffy fur, scratched his ears before he stretched “Ohhh big stretch! Good boy." I scratched his ears and got up "Go back to sleep…" he turned around and walked away, plopping down back at his old spot.

I rummaged through the pantry, grabbing everything Lizzie graved and trotted back to our bedroom, where a big smile spread over her face as soon as she saw me walk in.

"I can already taste the lemonade…" she made grabby hands and I laughed, handing her the can of lemonade and the crisps and sour gums.

I climbed in bed next to her, lying down and watching how she happily scrunched up her nose as soon as she ate the first sour gum, closing her eyes savouring the taste.

"Remind me to pack strawberry lemonade, salt and vinegar crisps and sour patch kids…" I yawned.

"I’m so excited for Christmas, our last without the twins… next year we’re already a family of 6…" Lizzie whispered and I cocked an eyebrow.

"6?"

"6…"

"Of course… Arlo…"

"I told you he’s our first born." Lizzie’s happy giggling made me smile and I nodded.

"You’re right. He is. And he’s an amazing big brother, guarding his little sister."

"He’s a good boy." she happily munched and I smiled, yawning again "You can sleep… you don’t have to stay awake with me…"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah…" Lizzie replied and leaned down, kissing my cheek "Thank you…"

"You need anything else?" I asked but she shook her head.

"No. We’re all good now. Sleep, pretty boy."

I didn’t know if I replied or not, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

An annoying ringing inside my head. But was it inside my head? I groaned and turned around, Lizzie next to me fast asleep, the ringing that definitely wasn’t just inside my head didn’t seem to bother her.

"Dada… make it stop…" Emmie rubbed her eyes, stumbling to our bed, her hair her a hot mess "Head owie!"

"I know…" I picked her up and sat her next to Lizzie "I’ll go…" I kissed her cheek and scrambled out of bed, looking for the source of the horrific sound. The door bell. And the landline phone. Both ringing at the same time. Just like my phone "What the hell?" I grabbed my phone and picked up "Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc! Finally! I wanted to come up myself and look if everything is alright!" Matthieu, our concierge, said and the landline phone and door bell stopped ringing.

"Of course, everything’s alright? Why wouldn’t it be?" I was confused, looking around.

"There are two cars here to pick you up. They’ve been waiting for a while now and we tried to call you then-…"

"What?! But the cars should be here at 8?" I replied.

"Mr. Leclerc, it’s 8:30 am…"

"WHAT? What? How? I- what?" I checked the time at my phone and cursed "Oh shit… umm tell the drivers we’ll need a moment…"

"Can I send them up to get your bags?" Matthieu asked and I nodded.

"Yes. Everything is packed. All the bags are at the elevator…" I hastily walked back into our bedroom, pushing the buttons to open up the blinds.

"Alright. I’ll tell them." he hung up and I gently shook Lizzie.

"Cara mia? Wake up please… we need to get ready…"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

"The cars are already here… we need to get ready." I said again and her eyes shot open.

"What? But you set your alarm? What?" she scrambled up looking at Emmie next to her "Did we oversleep?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm. But that doesn’t matter. We need to get ready. Now. Come on." I pulled her gently off the bed and she sighed "I take care of Emmie, okay?"

"Hmm…" Lizzie mumbled and waddled away to the bathroom, yawning "Did you not set the alarm?"

"I did. I don’t know what happened…" I mumbled and picked up Emmie "Come on girlie, let’s get ready."

"Ready for Crimas!" she clapped her hands and I chuckled.

"Christmas. And no. Not quite yet. We have to get there first."

"To Christ-as?" she tried again.

"Almost, Christmas, with an 'm'… Christ- mas."

"Christ-mas." she repeated and I smiled.

"You got it right, Emmie! Good girl!" I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the clothes Lizzie had put out already "Now let’s get dressed and then we’ll have a little snack in the car, how does that sound?"

"Car?" she tilted her head, scrunching her nose.

"Yeah, we have to drive to the airport. And then we get into the jet to fly to Switzerland. To this big chalet in the mountains where all our family is waiting! To celebrate-…"

"Christmas!" she clapped excitedly and I nodded.

"Exactly! But we’re a little late. So we need to hurry up a little!"

"Houwy up! Houwy up!"

"That we have to! So let’s have a look. You look adorable, now we just need to take care of your hair and-…" I began when I saw Lizzie waddling towards the kitchen, still in her pyjamas "Alright… wait a minute…" I sat her down "You pack your sleep plushies into your backpack and play a little with Arlo, okay? I’ll be right back and make your hair." Emmie nodded and I followed Lizzie into the kitchen, finding her rummaging through the fridge "Lizzie?"

"Why is there no food?" she sniffled, turning around "I’m hungry. But there is nothing to eat. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Cara mia, we have breakfast in the jet, okay? It’s all prepared-…"

"But I’m hungry now!" she was grumpy "The babies and I are hungry now!"

"I understand, but we have nothing here, because we’re leaving now… we can stop at a bakery on the way?" I tried it again and she sighed.

"Okay… I go and take a shower…" she walked past me and I followed her.

"Cara mia, you don’t need to shower. We don’t have time. You can shower as soon as we arrive in the chalet…" I said carefully but she shook her head.

"I smell… I’m not arriving smelly for Christmas…"

"Technically it’s not Christmas yet, so… and also you don’t smell… you just had a bath last night and I can still smell your coconut butter on your skin, so please. Just get dressed and let’s go. The cars are waiting. For over half an hour now…"

"Then why didn’t you set the alarm?" she looked at me annoyed.

"I did! I don’t know why it didn’t went off! Stupid alarm clock…" I walked over to my night stand to find the alarm clock to be off, not plugged into the wall "What the… oh no… my sweatpants… fuck…" I mumbled, remembering the struggle I had at night with my pants "With my phone this wouldn’t have happen…" I groaned more to myself when a half naked Lizzie stepped out of the closet.

"What did you say?" she cocked an eyebrow and I held my hands up "Is it my fault now for protecting our babies? Last night you said I was the best mum because of it!" her bottom lip began to wobble and I hastily pulled her into me.

"And I meant it! Okay? It’s all good. Just-… please get ready. I feel bad for the drivers to wait this long because of me… and the jet and everything…" I whispered against the side of her head, kissing her temple.

"Okay. I’m almost done…" she breathed out "You need to get dressed yourself…"

"On it…"

15 minutes later I strapped Emmie into her seat and gave the driver the all clear to drive, although I had a feeling like we forgot something at home. I was nervously fidgeting with my phone next to Lizzie who happily munched on the croissant I got her from the bakery.

"What is it?" she asked after another minute of me nervously tapping my foot.

"I feel like we forgot something…" I mumbled, going over the list inside my head "I just don’t know what…"

"It can’t be important if you don’t remember it."

"I don’t know…" I looked outside the window, the car approaching the little private airport.

We had all of the bags, there was nothing left when we left the penthouse. I checked Emmie’s backpack and she had packed all her night plushies. Arlo laid on the floor in front of me, his bag with his toys and leashes in the back. Lizzie packer her bag with her books and computer last night herself and it rested now next to her on the seat. The bag with her snacks on the floor next to my feet. I couldn’t grasp what was missing but still I felt like it.

"Charles?" Lizzie grabbed my hand, squeezing it "We’ve got everything. It’s fine, you’ll see…"

"Yeah… I hope so…" I mumbled watching the car in front with our baggage stopping on the tarmac "It’s too late now anyways I guess…" I unbuckled Emmie and got out of the car, taking her with me. I helped Lizzie out of the car and she took Emmie from me, walking with Arlo towards the jet while I helped loading our baggage onto the cart, before I walked up the stairs of the jet myself.

"Welcome on board, Mr. Leclerc." the pilot shook my hand and I smiled.

"Thank you, and sorry for the delay… it got a little hectic this morning…"

"All good, Sir. Why don’t you take a seat and we’re preparing for take off."

"Thank you." I took off my jacket, handing it to the flight attendant who stored it away.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she smiled and I shook my head, sitting down on front off Lizzie, Emmie next to her on the seat, looking outside the window.

I leaned my head back. Closing my eyes. One last time going over the list in my head. One last time going over every piece of baggage we just unloaded from the car. Lizzie’s suitcases, my suitcases, Emmie’s suitcases, the bags full off her and Arlo’s toys, the bags full of presents. The bag with Lizzie’s snacks and last but not least the 2 suitcases and backpack of…

"JORIS!" I shouted, Lizzie and Emmie both looking at me "WE FORGOT JORIS!" I took my phone out, about to call him when he already did the same.

"Jo-…"

"I can’t believe you forgot me at home…"

"I swear-…"

"Like seriously? What is this? Home alone? Your alarm doesn’t go off and you forget me in all the hectic?"

"I’m so sorry! I send the ca-…"

"Just be glad it’s more like Home Alone 2. I woke up by myself and-…" he hung up "And got in the car right in time… I just wanted to wait how long it would take you to figure out that I wasn’t with you…" Joris walked inside the jet, plopping down in the seat next to us.

"I’m so so sorry!" I looked at him sheepishly and Emmie climbed off her seat, walking over to Joris who picked her up, sitting her down in his lap.

"Jojo made Emmie hair look nice." she smiled and I looked at her, then at him.

"What?" I said and looked at Lizzie "I thought you did that?"

"I thought you did?" she replied and Joris laughed.

"Nope, I did, right Emmie bug?" he cooed at her and she smiled "And now that we’re all here… I say let’s go. Christmas is just right around the corner…"

"Christmas with pesents! Pesents for evyone!" Emmie said excited, clapping her hands "Mewwy Christmas evyone!"

🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄

I hope you enjoyed this (not so) little something and I hope you all had amazing Holidays!

Taglist: (If you don’t like to be tagged for this, let me know)

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000



[fromkenari]

@alliwantforchristmasislou

I don't talk about my identity a lot because I live in a town in the 2/3rds of the state that is red despite it being a blue state. I'm not accepted, nor is it really safe for me open about it beyond my friends, and the sad thing is I have only one other friend in this town with the same pronouns as me and my friends, all of whom are queer positive and a bunch of whom are queer themselves don't use the correct pronouns for my other friend who uses them or me because well, you know, transphobia but they claim it's because using "they" in a singular sense is just too awkward for them to do that for my one other friend who uses they/them and me. And I could talk about the suicide rate of non-cis kids in this town, but this is a positive post, right? It's why the Trevor Project is so important.

So anyway. Tumblr, Discord, and the internet, in general, have been the only hardline I have to a diverse queer network. I've been on this site since sometime in early 2009, and you know, before that, I was on Livejournal, and before that, I was on fan forums, Yahoo! Groups, and Pro Boards. So I've been around. I've seen it all in real time. And even though I was not into anything to do with Superwholock, I saw all of that, and you know, I have never really been deep in a fandom. Not even when I was on Livejournal. I just have a massive aversion to oversaturation.

So. I've been watching 911 since the pilot. I was hyped for it because of Angela Bassett. I thought, "You're making Angela Bassett a cop and handing her a TV show; what could go wrong?" (That's rhetorical; don't @ me. I know better now.) Anyway. I was hooked from the first episode, and you have to understand when 911 premiered, I was in one of the darkest points of my life. I had finally been declared legally disabled, which I had been working toward for 3 years. So, you know, nobody on Tumblr was talking about this show. By the end of Season 1, a few of us were scratching around at things, but there wasn't much there.

Then, Season 2 happened, and you know, Season 2 was some of my best times in the 911 fandom. I was there when we were deciding on Beddie vs Buddie. I was there when the first Buck/Eddie fic was posted to AO3. I even wrote some back then. It was a completely different energy then. There was an entire Discord server of us who were mortified that "Be Careful What You Wish For" was likely about the part of fandom that wanted Eddie and Shannon to end, but the consensus was, "WTF, we wanted her gone, but not like that!" And then, you know, the people celebrating it got louder and louder, and I was in fandom less and less until I stopped posting about 911 entirely on Tumblr.

Eventually, I made a new blog, this blog, not because of that, but because Tumblr shadowbanned my old blog, and nothing I posted would show up in tags. And you know, I was a big fandom creator and roleplayer, and I had to start all over. But I was still watching 911. I never stopped. I also watch Lone Star, and oh, the stories I could tell about the early days of Lone Star when 911 OG purists were throwing hissy fits that Lone Star content was getting tagged as 911. Seriously, it was a knockdown, drag-out fight to watch. But anyway, you know, I'm watching, and I'm waiting. I'm waiting for Evan Buckley to be confirmed as bisexual as I get my Henren scraps and cry over everything they do to Josh.

Then, the show gets canceled. But OMG, it's Immediately picked up by ABC, so trying to understand how to feel was indescribable. Because Seasons 5 and 6 sucked, they sucked, and I won't be convinced otherwise, and I was despairing because I was going to have to jump ship. And then the show jumped networks. So, I'm figured what do I have to lose?

So, I am still reeling from the Cruise ship disaster and rescue. And I'm going, "Is my show back? It's kind of back, right?" while also going, "And Tommy's back, and he's getting along with everyone. Sure, why not?" And then, you know, Episode 4 happened, and I'm watching it wondering what the hell is going on. Is Tommy going to be a recurring character now? And then you know Buck was an idiot, and you know I thought it was about Eddie, and I was kind of mad because really? The cast and crew get kicked around by their ship's fans, and you're giving them this? Because anyone who tells me watching that episode as it was airing that they thought Buck was doing that for Tommy before the loft scene, I'm calling horseshit because I've been watching since episode 1

I've wanted Bi Buck for as long as I can remember. And it was not until the loft scene that I even realized something was happening. I didn't know what it was, but something was off. And some point, I was standing on the couch freaking out at my TV, going, "WHY ARE THEY STANDING SO CLOSE TOGETHER? WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?" And then, you know, the kiss happened, and thankfully, no one was living next door in my duplex at the time because I was not quiet about my joy, and I sprained my freaking knee. I was so chaotic in my reaction. (I had to go to urgent care. It was a whole thing. Eh, my joints suck because of chronic illness. I told you I was on disability a long time ago, okay.) And you know, once I simmered down, I ran to this blog to post about it because 4 episodes on a new network, and they gave me Bi Buck.

And you know, I tried so hard to find a voice for Tommy in my head, but I couldn't. I didn't have enough material to do it. I appreciated everyone who could do it because I read your fic, which was great. I didn't even get into the fandom for it until Season 8 because I couldn't wrap my head around the ship, but I was going to sit there as long as it took to understand Tommy because it's Bi Buck's canon ship. Of course, I want to be able to write it myself. That's what I do. And right about when Tommy brought Buck avocado toast, I got it. Everything synced up in my head, and I understood it. I could go back and look at things and understand why Tommy did things now.

So, during that break for Halloween, I was writing little things and not posting them. I had already at the start of Season 8 found a Discord server, and I was hanging out in the tag. I was looking through follow lists people posted and zipping through them. And yeah, sue me. I call it Tevan because that's what Tommy calls him. That's not a judgment on anyone; it's just my preference. I forgot to mention that I was also there when shit hit the fan during the Season 7 hiatus and trying to survive in my old 911 Discord Servers, but people were awful for no reason. I'm never gonna understand why a whole swath of fandom hated the ship to the point that they were causing traumatic harm to other people, especially queer men in fandom. That's just so beyond me, and, again, another reason we need the Trevor Project is that queer men fetishists on Tumblr do not constitute a safe community for queer people. But I'm getting off track.

So you know, they broke up Buck and Tommy in the next freaking episode, and I had a lot of feelings. I posted a lot of them here. Some of them conflict because you know the human brain can handle more than one viewpoint. Gray areas are my bread and butter when it comes to media. Anyone gets puritanical about anything; I don't care what you ship; I will remove you from my curated experience because I don't need it. It's not healthy.

I've been writing more and more about this ship since the breakup. I even wrote a fixit for the breakup. And you know what happened in the show compared to what people say in interviews? There's a huge disconnect. In any other situation, especially given it's 911 and the Abby of it all, you would expect this to not be over because that's not how Buck's big love interests work. Most of his relationships end with him being too invested, but you don't get to call it a pivotal relationship for Buck and say it's over cold turkey. That's crappy writing because it completely goes against his characterization.

But I didn't realize how attached many people were to Tommy. I felt like I finally met him in the Halloween episode, and bam, he's gone in the next. So much wasted potential. So much drama. So many harassed actors and crew members. So many "journalists" acting like it's their blog is the gossip section of their high school newspaper, but they get screeners? So much crap happened, and what was it all for? So Buck can pine for Tommy and cause Los Angeles County to go on a flour ration? Like? I don't get it. So yeah. If the show wants to fix this mistake because this one they did leave themselves a contingency plan by not killing the man, they can fix it.

So bring back Tommy. If you do, I'll think about forgiving you for Amir's storyline last season. But we still need to talk about what messages we're sending people in these episodes. Those teenage girls do not deserve to get blamed because a grown man went rage quit to the max. The copaganda is SO HIGH that I can't even watch Athena's scenes now. And there's a bunch more I won't list because we're talking about Tommy and how you need to bring him back. I love these characters, but I'm tired of them repeatedly getting the same trauma and outcomes. You finally let queer people kiss again on your show, and then you get rid of one of them?

Anyway. I'm going to keep writing BuckTommy because I need something good to happen in fandom as I continue to watch this ridiculous show. And if you read this whole thing. I'm sorry that this is how it ends.

[supernatural-sophia]

Ao3 down? Here is a fic to help you through this tough time

I may have already posted this before but you know what.. sue me

(CH 1) ·:*¨༺ Looking Like You Just Woke Up ༻¨*:·

Dean breathed heavily watching the orange tear appear. He is immediately taken back to the last time Cas died when Jack was born. He remembers cradling Castiel’s lifeless body trying not to cry. Now, similar to last time, Jack is bringing Cas back, but this time he needs help. Dean looks back at his brother, who gives a nod of approval before he steps into the inky darkness.

Dean had no explanation for it, but he knew where to go. Even in walking in a darkness that was the equivalent of having your eyes closed, he knew where Cas was. He kneeled into the ink and grabbed a hand. Bright blue orbs looked upon him with no recognition behind them. Dean wanted to cry out and scream explaining that it was him and this was a rescue, but he knew he had to stay quiet so he wouldn’t wake up the Empty. Dean hulled Castiel’s almost lifeless body over his shoulder and dragged him towards the slowly closing portal. 

Within a few steps to the portal, almost to safety, the angel in Dean’s arms let out a feral scream, instantly waking the Empty up. The angel squirmed in his arms as they stepped out of the portal. Dean looks back seeing the Empty, wearing Meg’s face, screaming about staying out before the portal closes. 

Dean was expecting a mildly upset Castiel, who sacrificed himself for Dean’s safety, but was met with a terrified angel jumping out of his arms and running into a corner, pulling his wings into vision and wrapping them around himself. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered. He wanted a happy reunion. No more big bad, no more hidden feelings, just him and Cas retired on the beach (or more realistically in the bunker). “Jack, what’s going on? Why is he like this?” Dean demanded. 

“I-I don’t know. He was in the empty a lot longer this time. Maybe it messed him up a bit. When I go back to heaven, I can ask other angels to see if they may know,” Jack tried to calm the upset Dean down. It had taken a few days to trick and defeat God, then Jack had to help jump-start heaven back up, which wouldn’t run without a god’s power, then Jack had to find time to talk to a sober Dean, which was almost impossible to do. 

“Great. Just Great,” Dean huffed. He turned his attention back to the quivering angel on the floor, who was peaking up from the wings, bright blue, curious eyes making contact with Dean’s worried, green eyes. “Hey, buddy.” Dean crouched down by the angel. Castiel pushed himself further up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller.  “Cas, do you remember us?” Dean asks. The only response he gets is the wings tightening around the angel. 

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “We don’t know what the Empty really does to angels. He never spoke about his experience before he woke up in the empty. Maybe there was a reason.” Dean only nodded back, trying to figure out what to do to help his angel. “Dean. Give him some space. He’s going to need time.” Dean slowly backed away from his broken best friend. 

“I need a drink,” Dean says before rushing out of the bunker. 

 ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“Thought I wasn’t going to see you today,” the bartender says to Dean, who just grunts back. 

“Just give me the strongest thing you’ve got,” Dean says wiping a hand over his face. 

“Tougher day than normal?” the bartender, named Anthony, asks. “You seemed to have been in a better mood yesterday.” 

“Yeah, well things don’t always go the way we want,” Dean grumbled before starting to drink. 

“No, they don’t,” The bartender sighed. Dean had been coming to this bar every night since they defeated Chuck. As Dean felt the alcohol finally affecting his mind, he became more willing to speak to Anthony, another habit that has happened every night. 

“You know the guy I told you about?” Dean slurred. “Cas.” 

“Yes, I remember. He passed about a year ago now. Is this what this is about? Is it an anniversary or something?” Anthony asked having gotten to know Dean pretty well at this point. 

“No, well, Yes,” Dean answered. “Next week would have been a year.” 

“Would have? Dean, now I don’t want you to do anything stupid. Should I call your brother?” 

“Nah, Sammy knows I’m here,” Dean says before taking another drink. “But, uh, Cas is back. But he’s not the same. He’s all panicked and won’t speak.” 

“He’s back? I thought he was killed in action.” Even when drunk, Dean knew not to spill what he believed. Anthony believed Dean was an honorably discharged soldier and Castiel was someone whom Dean lost overseas. 

“Guess we were wrong,” Dean blushed. Anthony was confused and wondered if Dean was having some sort of episode of PTSD or some kind of break. 

“Huh,” Anthony huffed before walking over to the bar’s phone. 

“Sam Winchester.” 

“Hey, Sam, this is Anthony from the bar. Uhm I think you may need to come and get Dean.” 

“He didn’t start a fight again, did he?” 

“No, I’m just concerned. He seems to believe Cas has come back to life.” 

“Oh yeah.” Sam tries to think of a lie. “Well, once someone has been MIA for long enough they are deemed dead and uh, they found him recently.” 

“So he really is back?” 

“Yeah, but his mind is all kinds of messed up. We think he had been tortured this past year.” There was a pregnant silence before Sam sighed into the receiver. “I should come get him before he drinks himself into a coma. Thanks, Ant.” 

Anthony hears the receiver click. He thought Dean had witnessed Cas’s death and that’s why he was discharged. Maybe he just saw him get captured? Dean only spoke whenever he was drunk, so there was a chance the stories had been fabricated or at least twisted in his mind. 

“Ant!” Dean calls out. “Can you top me off?” He taps his empty glass. 

“Sorry, Dean. You’re cut off for the night. Sam is heading over to pick you up right now,” Anthony explains. 

“Shit. You called Sammy?” Dean slurred. 

“You need to have someone take care of you, Dean.”

“Nah. I know how to handle myself. I’m not my father,” Dean huffed. Anthony had never heard Dean mention his father. He had heard his mother had died when he was young and he lived on the road with Sam but never mentioned his father, who apparently was an alcoholic. After some nonsense mumbling by Dean, the bell above the door rang, showing Sam and a young man next to him. 

“Dean?” The boy asked. 

“Shit, Sammy. Why did you bring Jack?” Dean complains. 

“Because you are on your best behavior when he is around and I wasn’t sure what version of you I would find,” Sam explains, earning an eye roll from Dean. Usually, when Sam had to come to get Dean from the bar, it was an extremely angry Dean who would fight Sam the whole way home, but sometimes, when Anthony is especially concerned like today, Sam would find a mopy Dean. 

“Thanks, Ant,” Dean huffed sarcastically slapping his money onto the table before Sam slipped Anthony a large tip. 

Dean stayed quiet the whole ride home, which was not an uncommon experience for Sam by now but Jack was getting antsy. 

“Dean, do you want me to remove the alcohol from your system?” Jack asked. 

“No,” Dean practically laughed at the statement. “I worked hard to get this kind of numbness.” Jack looked at Sam confused. Sam sent a mental prayer to Jack explaining that Dean had just enough alcohol to make him more honest than normal. Jack still didn’t understand but decided to drop it. 

They opened the bunker door to find that Castiel was not in the same spot he was when they left. 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean said, stumbling down the stairs. 

“Not sure. Probably wandering around the bunker,” Sam responded, not showing Dean that he was worried that Cas wasn’t there. There was a clatter in the kitchen causing Dean to stick straight up, losing his buzz. He pulled his gun out and sneaked into the kitchen to find the angel on top of a counter holding random items from the kitchen. 

Dean just watched, not alerting the angel of his presence, as the angel sniffed all the items in his hand, deciding he didn’t want them he dropped them onto the floor, on top of other miscellaneous objects. 

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha looking for?” Dean said, slowly entering the kitchen. Big blue eyes blinked at him before the angel sniffed the air and hopped off the counter. The angel opened another cabinet gathering the items from inside it and scurried back towards the counter. He sniffed each item carefully before dropping all but one: a box of Cheerios. 

“What? You want cereal?” Dean asked again only receiving a stare before the angel disappeared with the sound of wings flapping behind him. 

“Shit,” Dean said before running back to the war room, where Sam and Jack were speaking in hushed tones. If Dean wasn’t in such a panic, he would have poked fun at them, but he had more important things on his mind. “Did you guys know that Cas’s wings work?” He breathed heavily. 

“Shit, no,” Sam says before standing up quickly. “Where do you think he went?” 

“How should I know? He was crawling around the kitchen like an animal, he found a box of cereal, then vanished,” Dean explained annoyed. 

“He’s still in the bunker,” Jack said with confidence. “I can feel him.” 

“I’ll start checking the bedrooms. Sam, you check libraries and hidden rooms behind them. Jack, you should probably get back to heaven in case he tries to flee there. The other angels are not a fan of him so we need to keep him safe,” Dean explained before taking off down the hallway. 

Opening every door behind him, he reaches his own room. He opens the door slowly, having a feeling Cas was in there. 

“Cas, buddy?” Dean says peaking his head into his room and being met with bright blue eyes. “Hey.” Dean smiles. The angel doesn’t flee but doesn’t come closer. “Do you want help?” Dean reached for the closed box of Cheerios, which now looked beaten up. The angel clutched the cereal close to himself, not wanting to lose his new possession. “I’ll give them back. I’ll just open them,” Dean says miming the motions. 

The angel looks at him, thinking about whether he should give Dean a chance. Slowly he sets the box down and slides it across the floor towards Dean, who opens it with ease. Dean poured the Cheerios into his hand before putting one into his mouth. He then held his hand out for Castiel to do the same. The angel stuck his tongue out like an animal before licking the Cheerios in Dean’s hand. Dean stood there frozen and unsure what to do before he heard Sam calling for him panicked. He put the Cheerios onto the floor and then walked out slowly, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door latched, Dean pulled his gun out and sprinted down the hallway. 

“Dean!” Sam called out again. Dean froze as he entered the room. Another figure stood in the library. 

“Don’t move,” Dean said aiming his weapon at the stranger. 

“Now, Dean,” Chuck’s voice came from behind Dean in the hallway. “Is that the best way of greeting dear old Dad?” 

(CH 2) ·:*¨༺ Father ༻¨*:·

“Chuck?” Dean turned around. “What are you doing here? You lost.” Dean demanded, aiming his gun at the man’s head. Chuck laughed. 

“I couldn’t give up on my story. So what my powers are dampened? I can do a few miracles here and there. My favorite pastime in waiting for my grace to recharge is writing my books. And no offense. You guys were getting boring. Yeah, you guys got Cas back, which, ugh,” Chuck rolls his eyes. “But I want something with more conflict. I don’t have enough grace to make a new monster, so I brought an old one back.” His grin was evil as he spoke. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Dean cut him off. 

“Look as much as I love a villain’s monologue, you are not welcome here. Get out. I’ll call Amara down,” Dean said flat. Chuck paled. 

“You don’t have access to her. You’re bluffing.” 

“Wanna test that theory?” Dean quipped back. Chuck huffed and disappeared. Dean rolled his eyes before turning back around, being reminded of the other intruder. “Sammy get down,” Dean said moving his aim back to the intruder. Sam stayed still. 

“Dad?” Sam whispered. Dean walked closer to the intruder, his aim not faltering. 

“Where the hell am I?” the unmistakable voice called out. “Dean, drop the damn gun and stop aiming at me like I’m some monster,” John commanded. Dean’s heartbeat quickened, but he didn’t drop his gun. 

“You’re not him. He died over a decade ago,” Dean barked. “What are you?” The man paused for a moment, eyes squinting and going back in forth between his two sons. 

“A decade?” He asks. 

“Sammy, get Jack.” 

“Who the hell is Jack? You got other hunters here?” John called out. Sam stayed frozen still staring at his father. “You going to keep staring at me or are you going to do what your brother asked you to do?” He barked at Sam, knocking him out of the trance he was in. 

Sam closed his eyes and started saying something under his breath that John couldn’t hear. 

“Have you lost your mind, boy?” John yelled again before a young boy walked into the room. His eyes glanced up toward him and Sam turned around mouthing thank you. 

“Is it him?” Sam breathed heavily. Jack nodded slowly. 

“He’s not a monster as far as I can tell. Nor angel, nor demon. He’s just a human,” Jack said quietly. After a pause, he walked up to Dean. “Dean, you can drop your gun. It is him.” 

Dean slowly lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. 

“You’re taking orders from some kid?” John asked. 

“God, please tell me I passed out at the bar and this is just some fucking nightmare,” Dean said running a hand over his face. 

“Dean this isn’t a dream,” Jack said matter of factly. “Did you find Cas?” 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean says taking off back down the hallway. 

“You boys got a girl here?” John asked. Sam finally spoke to his father for the first time since he had appeared. 

“Uh, no. Cas is short for Castiel. He’s uh, Jack’s adoptive dad,” Sam says not meeting his father's eyes, knowing the moment he did, the rage would come out of both of them and they would start arguing. 

“What is he a queer or something?” His dad huffed. “That why he likes being called a girl’s name?” 

Sam ignored his father and turned to Jack who looked confused. “Hey, Jack, I think it’s time for you to leave again.”

“Why? I just got here?” Jack whined. 

“You remember how Dean was earlier today? At the bar? Well, he is probably going to be worse tonight. I don’t want you seeing that,” Sam said with a low voice. 

“You said I could help last time. You said he behaves better when I’m here,” Jack continued whining. You could hear John scoffing in the background, talking about the boys going soft on him. 

“Yeah, but that was about Cas. This one is-” Sam looked back at his father who was glaring at him. “Different. I’ll call you tomorrow if it’s uh, okay to come home, okay?” 

“Okay,” Jack sighed. Sam leaned in and whispered into Jack’s ear telling him to not fly until he was out of the bunker so as to not upset John. Jack moped the whole way out of the bunker, constantly looking back at Sam to change his mind, who just shook his head. 

“What the hell was that?” John yelled the moment the door closed. 

“Look can you just calm down?” Sam started. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but just give me a minute to think of what to do.” 

“Where did Dean go?” John asked, slightly calmer, but irritation still noticeable in his tone. 

“He’s taking care of Cas,” Sam sighed. 

“Oh, so your brother is taking care of a man who has a child that it seems like you are taking care of? I’d just kick him to the curb,” John snorts. 

“Well, Cas just, uh,” Sam thought of the lie he told the bartender and thought something similar would work. “Look, Cas just got back from the equivalent of being a POW and he is not doing well. He’s super skittish and won’t even talk to anyone right now. Dean is usually the one who gets through to Cas the fastest, so he’s taking care of him right now.” 

Sam watched as different thoughts went through his father's head before his face softened. It was something weird for Sam to see, who only saw his father’s stone-cold face. 

“He’s a veteran?” his father asked quietly. “I might be able to help. I had a rough time adjusting after Vietnam.” John had a faraway look in his eyes, like the one he would have had if he had mourned Mary properly.  He blinked then headed for the hallway Dean went down. 

“Dad, wait,” Sam grabbed his Dad’s arm. “Cas is, well, different. Things have changed a lot since you died. I just don’t want you to flip out when you see him.” 

“What, is he black or something? Sammy, that thing doesn’t matter to me. You’re acting like I died in the 60s,” his dad chuckled a bit. 

“Look,” Sam takes a deep breath. “Cas is an angel. Castiel is his full name. The ending is a part of his angel identity.”

“What is angel some way of saying he’s like slow or something?” His dad asks. 

“No, like Angel with a capital A. Warrior of God on wings.” 

“Angels aren’t real. I would have come across one by now,” John scoffed. 

“They hadn’t walked on earth in like a millennia before a few years ago. We’ve fought demons. How hard it is to believe the opposite of those exist?” Sam proposed. 

John sat and debated. He wondered if his sons had lost their minds or if some demon tricked them into taking care of it. John looked up as he heard a door close quietly and footsteps came down the hall. The look on his eldest son’s face was one of exhaustion. He no longer had the young, pretty face John had teased him about. He had the look of a man who had seen things no one should see. John felt slightly proud, thinking his son must have gotten that look by protecting people and killing monsters. 

“He’s sleeping, Sam,” Dean said not acknowledging their father’s presence. 

“Really?” Sam said surprised. 

“What, you two are surprised some traumatized man is sleeping?” Or demon pretending to sleep he thought to himself. 

“Sammy, I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t slept since Metatron,” Dean sighed, still ignoring his father. 

“He’ll bounce back. He always does,” Sam reassures Dean. 

“I need a drink,” Dean said. 

“Dean, come on. I need your head in the game,” Sam tried, but Dean kept walking towards the door. “This isn’t what Cas would want.” Sam used the “Cas Card” that he knew would stop Dean. 

“Fine. But I’m getting a beer. You want one?” Dean says towards their father. 

“Oh, so now you notice me. What’s so important about this Cas that you don’t acknowledge me?” John inquired. 

“So is that a no on the beer?” That is all Dean responded with. 

“What has gotten into you?” His dad barked at him. Dean just walked towards the kitchen and then came back with three beers. He sighed as he sat down across from his dad, sliding the beers over to Sammy, then John. 

Dean takes a long swing before asking, “What all does he know?” to Sam. 

“Nothing,” Sam shrugged. 

“What all could I have missed that I now know ‘nothing,’” John huffed. 

“So fucking much,” Dean signed before starting his story. 

(CH 3) ·:*¨༺ Are You Afraid of God? No, but I’m afraid of you ༻¨*:·

John sat there and surprisingly had no outbursts. 

“Then Chuck brought you back because he is bored,” Dean finished. 

“And Chuck is…”

“God, yeah,” Sam finished his dad’s sentence. They all sat there in silence before John huffed. 

“Bull,” Is all he said. 

“I wish,” Dean laughed. 

“You guys died like ten fucking times in that story. I don’t know who you boys think you are fooling with that nonsense. Like either one of you could survive Hell,” John raged. 

Dean just stood up and showed the handprint burned into his shoulder. “I’m going to go check on Cas again.” 

Sam looked at his phone for the 100th time during that conversation. 

“Oh, and Sammy? Just tell Eileen to come over. She might be able to help with Cas’s situation. Maybe he could sign to her or something,” Dean said walking off. 

“Eileen?” John raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, uh, we met on a hunt a while ago,” Sam started blushing, giving away his feelings for her. 

“A female hunter, huh? They sure are hard to get along with,” John laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you had plenty of experience with Mom,” Sam replied, instantly realizing what he had said. “I mean- uhm,” 

“What is that supposed to mean? Your mother had no idea,” John paused. “Wait. How did I not notice before? The necklace she wore, her parents always on deer hunts,” John started going through his relationship with Mary. “How did you know?” 

That was the question Sam dreaded hearing. How does he explain that Mary hates John for bringing her kids into this world? How does he explain that she’s off, hunting monsters?

“Sam. I asked you a question.” Sam looked like he was about to flee. “I know you are keeping something from me. Not a very good liar anymore, I see,” John whispered under his breath. 

“Hold on, let me make a phone call,” Sam jumped up and ran into the kitchen. 

“Pick up, Pick up, Pick up,” John could hear Sam saying as he snuck close to the kitchen. 

“Sam, what’s wrong?” John knew that voice. That voice was always in his head. 

“Something big happened,” Sam responded. 

“I heard from Jack. I know Cas is back,” John could hear Mary smile through the phone. “He and Dean talk yet?” John wants to know what Mary could be implying what John thinks she’s implying. That Cas must be some queer who’s been messing with Dean’s head. 

“Uh, no not yet. There have been some complications, but that’s not what I called about. Gosh, how do I say this?” Sam asks. 

“Usually using words,” Mary jokes, sounding worried. 

“Dad’s back.” 

“Oh.” John thought his wife might be more excited to hear he was back. “Do you know why? Did you check to make sure it was him? Jack wouldn’t do that would he?” John was getting worried. Mary sounded upset that he was alive. 

“Uh, no, Mom. Chuck brought him back. We had Jack check him out. He’s at the least human but we’ve been talking for a while and I know it’s Dad,” Sam explained. 

“Should I come back?” 

“After your hunt is finished. Don’t leave Garth hanging.” Mary was hunting? John was starting to almost panic. Who is this Garth guy? Did Mary replace him? 

“He sure is an oddball huh? Don’t know how his wife puts up with it,” Mary laughs. 

“Yeah, Give him a hug for me. It will make his day.”

“I’ll be back to the bunker soon. Bye, Sam,” 

“Bye, Mom.” 

John quickly rushed back to where he was sitting. Mary was alive. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to hear anything about her from Sam. He got up as Sam came out of the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“To talk to Dean,” John grumbled. 

“Look, I don’t think you’re ready to meet Cas. He definitely isn’t ready to meet anyone new,” Sam tried to explain but his father wasn’t listening. John just stomped down the hallway until he came across a door that had the words “DEAN’S ROOM” scribbled on in crayons with different stickers around the letters. 

John didn’t bother to knock, he just opened the door to see Dean cradling a man with wings, singing to him. Dean was in a whole other world, not noticing his father standing in the doorway. John didn’t know what made him angrier, seeing his son holding a monster or a man. 

“DEAN!” John boomed causing the angel to jump up and curl into the corner of the room, covering himself with his wings. 

“Shit. Didn’t we tell you he’s got something wrong with him? Why would you yell at him?” Dean got up into his father’s face. “Why didn’t you just fucking listen to me?” Dean pushed his father out of the room, following him out and closing the door behind him. Dean stormed away shaking with anger. He had just gotten Cas to finally calm down enough for Dean to be with him. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” John yelled after Dean. Dean turned around, gun touching his father’s head. 

“If you can’t quiet down, I will pull the trigger,” Dean threatened, clicking the safety off. 

“You aren’t man enough to do that,” John said in a low tone. 

“Then why are you whispering?” Dean said clicking the safety back onto his gun and putting it into the hem of his jeans. He sighed before turning back around to speak to his stunned father. “Look there is a shit tone of rooms you can stay in. If you plan on being loud, it can’t be in this hallway. I can’t risk it with Cas. Just don’t pick one that has a name on it. Jack will be upset.” 

“What about Mary’s room?” John huffed. Dean froze. 

“You saw that?” Dean itched his head. “I wouldn’t honestly. Jack is a weird kid and I don’t know how he will feel about you breaking “the room rules” as he calls it. Where is Jack anyway?” Dean glares down at his father. “You didn’t say any bullshit to him did you?” 

“Why would you think that? Sam is the one who kicked him out. Said something about you being a drunk,” John crossed his arms across his chest. Dean took a deep breath before closing his eyes and mumbling something. 

“I’m glad you’re okay!” The young boy appeared out of thin air and gave Dean a big hug. 

“Yeah, Jack. It’s getting late and my dad needs a room to sleep in. Will you pick a room and make him a sign?” Jack jumped up and down before running over and hugging John who couldn’t look more terrified. 

“I’m glad you are good like Mary! With some of the things Dad said, I thought you would be like my father,” Jack says before letting go and running down the hall to get art supplies. 

“You let a demon near Mary?” His dad growled. 

“Jack’s not a demon. He’s a Nephilim. Half angel half human.” Dean tried to explain. 

“Oh, so that makes it better? You are playing house with a couple of monsters.” 

“Things have changed a lot since you left,” Dean said

“So you keep saying.” 

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave okay? I’m dealing with too much right now to deal with your shit,” Dean sighed before walking towards the kitchen to grab another beer. 

“You got anything stronger than this shit beer?” John huffed after looking into the fridge. A look of shame appeared on Dean’s face for a split second that the only person who would have been able to catch it would have been Cas. 

“Ah, no. I wish. You will have to go to the bar about 20 minutes away. Closest one there is. Tell Anthony you want the Winchester special. He will give you something strong,” Dean chuckled slightly to himself. 

John and Dean sat in silence drinking their beers, anger radiating off of both of them. Finally, Dean gets up saying he’s going to bed. 

“With that monster in your room?” John scoffs. 

“Yep.” 

“You got nothing more to say for yourself?” 

“Nope.” Dean walked out of the kitchen, into his room, and locked the door behind him. “Hey, Cas.” 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated. Dean smiled down at the man he loved. 

“I’m going to bed. You need anything?” The angel shook his head. Dean was glad his dad’s outburst didn’t revert any of the progress he had made. “Do you want a pillow or, fuck it, you can climb into bed with me and sleep.” 

“No sleep,” Castiel croaked out, his voice scratchy. “Watch.” 

Dean smiled remembering the times he told Cas to stop doing that and now here he is, happy that he is doing it. “Night, Cas. I love you,” Dean whispered into the darkness. 

(CH 4) ·:*¨༺ Be Nice to Me ༻¨*:·

Mary arrives at the bunker in the early morning. She drove all night, as soon as she finished the hunt, to get home. She wasn’t surprised to see Dean working on his car and Sam leaving for a run. 

“Hey, Mom.” Dean smiled getting out from under the car. “Did Sammy tell you the news?” Mary just nodded before going in to hug her son. 

“You might want to go for a drive,” She whispered. “I doubt this will be pretty.” 

“I can’t. It’s not safe for Cas,” Dean explains. Mary nods understanding. “He’s messed up, mom. I know it’s only been a day out of the empty, but he’s never been like this. Not even when he took on Sam’s trauma from the Cage. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Stay. Be there for him. He will get better. Good things do happen,” Mary smiles. “Ready for the shit show?” 

They walked into the bunker finding John in the kitchen. John gasped and stood up to hug Mary, who slapped him across the face. 

“John Winchester. I did not sacrifice my life for you to take our children onto the road, teach them about the horrors of the hunter’s world, and abuse them. You were a great father. What the hell happened?” Mary yelled. John stood there stunned. 

“Mary, I did the best I could. I was a wreck after you died,” John tried to explain. 

“Yeah. Well now, so are your children. Both have gone to hell, Sam lost his soul at one point, Dean became a demon, and now I hear you are upset about the angel who just got back from the Empty, comply traumatized. What do you have to say for yourself?” Mary demanded. 

“Well that ‘angel’ over there is turning Dean into a queer,” John huffed as if that was some sort of defense. Mary stopped and turned to Dean. 

“You guys finally got together?” She gasped. Dean stood there pale. He didn’t tell anyone about Cas’s confession or his reciprocation of those feelings. 

“I-I- Uh, No. What do you mean finally?” Dean sputters. 

“Oh,” Mary says disappointed. “I thought-” She turned back over to John. 

“Those boys aren’t even together. What makes you say they are queer?” Mary asked John, disgust pointed towards him. 

“I saw Dean holding him,” John is turning red, embarrassed to be scolded by Mary. 

“He just came back to life! He’s been dead for a year! Can’t Dean miss someone? Can’t Dean comfort an upset friend without you getting your panties in a twist?” Mary yelled. “Apologize to Dean right now.” 

“Mary-” 

“Now.” 

“Dean, I’m sorry for being rude to your friend. Sam told me he was like a recently found POW and I proceeded to yell at him. I apologize.” 

Dean stood there in utter shock. He had never, ever seen John apologize for anything. He’d never seen anyone speak to him like that. Dean slowly nodded before leaving to go check on Cas. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said stepping into their room. 

“Hey, Cas,” the angel repeated back. 

“You know, my name is Dean. Your name is Cas,” Dean let out a small laugh. 

“Dean,” the angel smiled. Dean’s heart fluttered hearing the familiar voice. Castiel walked over to Dean, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the bed. “Sit.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Dean joked as he sat down on top of the bed. Castiel sat at Dean's feet and then laid down. “You okay Cas?” 

“Dean. Watch. Cas. Sleep,” He said in his broken English. Dean smiled. 

“Okay, Cas. I’ll watch over you.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“What the hell was that all about?” John asked after Dean disappeared behind his door. 

“Look, John,” Mary sighs. “Everyone knows Dean and Cas are close. Everyone knows they have feelings for each other. Everyone except them. It was hard for me at first too. I mean, Castiel is an angel. Hard for me to adjust to the fact that Sam and Dean keep a few monsters alive because it benefits them in the long run, but the world is different now. AND. Cas makes Dean happier than I’ve ever seen him since I’ve been back.” 

“Dean’s never been a fag before. Why is he one now? Ever think that the angel is playing tricks on Dean’s brain?” John argued. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, John. I’ve seen Cas do things for Dean that I don’t think you would even do for me. How Dean hasn’t realized they have practically been in a committed relationship for a little less than a decade? I don’t know. But what I do know is that they are good for each other and as a mother, that's all I care about. It should have been what you cared about too.” Mary turns to leave the kitchen and go to her room. 

“Mary? Do you still love me?” John asks quietly. 

“I don't know John. You have done a lot of things I don’t know if I will be able to forgive.” 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

“Winchester Special,” John says to the bartender. 

“Dean, I already told you. You’re cut off-” Anthony turns around. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize other people ordered that.” 

“My son told me about it,” John frowns. Anthony turns around and mixes the bar's strongest whiskeys together. 

“So, what’s on your mind?” John shakes his head. “Nope. Part of the Winchester Special is you got to talk.” 

“And he does that?” John laughs. 

“Every time. Some people just need someone to talk to, and a strong drink,” Anthony winks. 

“Guess I don’t know my son at all. Never in a million years would I have thought he would spill his guts after one drink.” 

“Is Dean…?” Anthony pauses, not sure if it is a good idea to pry into Dean’s mysterious father. “Are you Dean’s dad?”  

“The one and only,” John huffs taking another swig. 

“You know yesterday, he mentioned you for the first time. I didn’t even know you were active in his life,” Anthony mumbles that last part. 

“I-I’m really not,” John says. “Saw him for the first time in over 10 years, yesterday. Looks like an entirely different person.” 

“Yeah well, war can do that to you. Did you meet Cas? I heard he just got back from a POW camp,” Anthony asks. John quickly caught onto Dean’s cover story. Maybe Dean was smarter than he thought. 

“Uh, Kinda. Got in trouble with the wife for not being kind enough. She yelled at me for being prejudiced,” John huffed again. “Back when I was in the military, we didn’t let sissies like him in. Now apparently he and my boy are together or some shit,” John shoots the last of his drink down and Anthony fills the cup back up. 

“Yeah, I kinda always assumed. The way Dean talks about him. It’s just very telling. I’m glad he’s back though. Dean hasn’t been here at all today.”

“He here often?” 

“Often enough to get a special,” Anthony replies. John thinks about that for a moment. After realizing that the bartender was proud of Dean for not being there just for the day, a thought popped into his head. 

“He here every day?” the bartender nods. 

“For almost a year. The anniversary of Cas, uh, going missing I guess, is coming up. I thought he had died by the way Dean spoke about him sacrificing his life for him, but I guess Dean just assumed he died.” 

“Sacrificing his life?” John asked. 

“Oh, if Dean was drunk enough he would talk about the moment it happened. It never made much sense, but he would always end up pissed about the event. I’d usually have to call his brother after that.” John nodded. 

“What did he say happened?” John asked. Maybe the bartender thought it was just nonsense, but maybe it was a supernatural event John could decode. 

“Oh, something about Death around the corner. Sometimes it was a woman around the corner, depending on the day. Then Cas pushed Dean out of the way, saving him. He says everything went black after that, and there wasn’t a body to bury. I kinda always assumed it was a bomb, but I don’t know.” 

“Huh,” John said. 

“Look, I wouldn’t bring it up to Dean. He always gets worked up about it and with him not going home drunk right now, I don’t want you to push him over. I know Sam won’t buy him any more liquor because I’ve heard Dean complain about it.” Anthony walks away after that, mid-speech to go help another customer. 

John leaves his cash on the counter and heads back to the bunker with a lot on his mind. 

(CH 5) ·:*¨༺ Alcoholics don’t get far unless they drink and drive  ༻¨*:·

John woke up with a headache. He checked the clock and it was later than he would ever let himself sleep. He stretched to get out of bed, hearing voices in the kitchen. 

Cas had been following Dean around since he got up. He no longer had his wings out, making him able to wear his trenchcoat again. He hadn’t said anything all morning, even though Dean was trying to coax words out of him. Mainly Cas just rolled his eyes, but there was this look in Dean’s eyes that just begged him to say something. Cas heard footsteps enter the kitchen. 

“Dean,” he says as the rest of the members at the table, Jack, Sam, Mary, Eileen, and Dean, all cheered. “Dean,” Cas repeated jutting his chin towards the door. The table turned and silence fell into the room. 

“Don’t stop celebrating on my account,” John mumbled. 

“John! John! Castiel just spoke! In front of all of us!” Jack was vibrating with excitement. “He’s getting better!” John just nodded and went over to the coffee machine. 

“No,” Cas said. John turned around, looking offended. 

“No what, Cas?” Dean asked softly. 

“No. Dean’s.” 

“What the coffee?” Dean clarified. He received a nod from the angel. “He can have some coffee. It’s okay, Cas.” Dean could tell Castiel said something, but couldn’t understand. 

“Castiel!” Jack gasped. Everyone’s attention went to Jack. 

“What? What did he say?” Dean asked a bit too excitedly. 

“Well, Enochian isn’t a perfect language and it’s hard to translate,” Jack responded. “But he pretty much said I don’t want the scum of the earth taking the gifts it serves.” Jack is met with more blank stares. “It’s an insult to your father,” Jack said quietly sinking into his chair. 

“Ohhh,” the whole table understood. 

“What’s his problem with me?” John asked. Sam and Dean made eye contact and tried to change the subject. 

“So, Cas can speak Enochian. Is he just struggling with English, you think?” Sam asked. 

“Hey, I asked a question,” John slammed his hand on the table. Castiel jumped up and pinned John against the wall. 

“Cas, get off of him,” Dean says with no urgency. Castiel just growled. 

“What is he some sort of guard dog?” John poked. 

“Cas, come on now. Dad’s trying his best. Let him down,” Dean tried again. 

“No.” 

“Why, Cas?” Dean asked annoyed, standing up to move the angel. 

“Protect.” John burst out laughing at the angel’s response. 

“Wow, you boys have gone soft. Need a monster to protect you?” John snapped. 

Dean just sighed. “Hey Cas? Look at Eileen,” Dean needed to get Cas’s attention somewhere else. Dean spelled “sign 4 me” to Eileen. She agreed with a nod. “Watch her hands Cas. John is not a danger. You can let him go. It is okay.” 

Cas watched intensely as Eileen signed what Dean had just said. Cas nodded and let go of John before wandering off. Dean signed thank you, sighed heavily, and then grabbed his mug. 

“I’ll go follow him. Make sure he’s not destroying another room.”

“Hey, Dean. What is your guard dog's problem with me?” John stood in front of Dean, blocking the doorway. 

“Look, you want to call him a dog fine. I’ll use dog terms. Cas is territorial and overly protective. Better?” Dean says taking another sip of his coffee. His dad moves out of the way. 

“I can never get a straight answer from that kid anymore,” John huffed. 

“Like father like son,”  Sam signed to Eileen, who laughed. 

“What? What did you say?” John asked sounding almost panicked. 

“Don’t worry about it, John. They have been doing that all morning,” Mary rolls her eyes before getting up to rinse her mug out. “No one knows what they are saying.” 

“I do,” Jack says causing Sam to get a bright pink blush across his face and Eileen to burst out into Laugher. 

“What did they say?” John asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“They said like father like son,” Jack signed as he spoke. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John turns to Sam. 

“Like you don’t remember that 90% of our arguments were because you wouldn’t give straight answers because everything was on a need-to-know basis,” Sam shrugs his shoulders. 

“Seems like Dean’s got a few things in common with me then. Talked to some guy named Anthony last night,” John lead. 

“Dad, Dean says a lot of stuff when he’s drunk. Don’t believe everything Ant says about him,” Sam sighs. 

“Wait, I thought you said when Dean gets drunk he is more likely to tell the truth?” Jack said confused. 

“Hey, Jack buddy. This is an adult conversation. Let’s go find Dean and your Dad,” Mary says calmly leading Jack out of the kitchen. Eileen followed them out, leaving just Sam and John in the kitchen. 

“Why did you tell me the same cover story that Dean told Anthony?” John asked. 

“I didn’t know what to say to describe what happened to him. The Empty is a hard thing to comprehend and we don’t know much about it,” Sam explained. 

“Well, try. I’m tired of being left out of things.” Sam scoffs again at his father. 

“Funny how things change,” Sam frowns. “Look the Empty is where angels go when they die. From how it has left Cas, clearly, it’s no heaven.” 

“Is it darkness?” John asked quietly. 

“What?” Sam replied. 

“Is it black? So black you can’t see?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you know that?” Sam asked. 

“That Anthony is a chatterbox. Careful what secrets you tell him.” With that, John stood up and left the kitchen. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

When John left the kitchen, everyone was in the library. He headed in that direction. I need Dean alone, without the angel. Dean was reading a book out loud, while Castiel sat next to him and listened. John could tell by the cover it was the Wizard of Oz. 

“Do you remember meeting Dorthy? Charlie had a thing for her,” Dean smiled fondly at the memory. 

“Who’s Charlie?” Jack asked. 

“Oh Jack, you would have loved her. She was like a little sister to me. She had fiery red hair and superhuman hacking skills,” Dean explained as if he were talking about a character from a story. “She loved to play pretend and one time made me and Sam play with her. She was a queen and we were knights.” 

“Saved Dean,” Castiel added on. 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said leaning his head up against the angel. “She did save me.” Dean picked the book back up and continued reading the story to Cas and Jack. It was such a domestic scene that John was observing. It made him angry that Dean was acting like this. John didn’t get to have this with his family, why should they? It wasn’t the life he had planned for Dean. Sam? Maybe, but he never would have imagined Dean to settle down. 

John took another step forward and Dean sat straight up, no longer laying on the angel, whose eyes were closed.  

“Dean. Lay.” Cas said without opening his eyes. Dean stared at his father before slowly laying back down on Castiel. John scoffed and walked away. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

John decided that the best way to get information out of Dean would be to get him drunk. He needed to hear it out of Dean’s mouth that he was in love with the angel and the angel wasn’t just forcing him with his powers. John left and drove almost an hour away from the bunker to a store. 

He bought his favorite whiskey. When checking out the cashier spoke to him. 

“Huh. Are you hanging out with Dean Mercury? He’s the only person who ever buys this stuff,” the cashier said. 

“Uh yeah. He’s my son,” John replied. 

“I can see the resemblance. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen him in some time.” 

“He’s doing well,” is all John says before snagging the whiskey from the cashier's hands as soon as he takes the cash. 

:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:

It was around 8 o'clock by the time John got home. Dean was still on the couch in the library reading, but the angel nor the kid was in sight. 

“Don’t let Sammy see that. He will make you take it back,” Dean huffed after seeing the bottle. 

“You wana drink?” John asks. Dean jumps up off the couch. 

“Let's go to the Dean cave,” Dean smirks. Finally, something he and his dad can’t argue on. Alcohol. Dean will put an old western on and they can just sit and be together. 

John followed behind Dean and closed the door behind him. Dean pulled a poster off the wall revealing alcohol and glasses. “Don’t tell Sam or I will shoot you,” Dean says. He set the glasses on the coffee table and started searching for the remote. 

“Must be nice to not have that angel breathing down your neck for a few minutes huh?” John tried to break this case open as fast as he could. 

“Nah. I don’t mind Cas being like that. I gave up years ago teaching him personal space. Even before the Empty, he was a weird guy.” John watched Dean smile to himself talking about the angel. “Aha! Found it!” Dean says finding the remote in the couch cushions. John starts pouring the whiskey into the glasses. 

“Woah, trying to get me drunk here old man?” Dean teased taking the nearly full glass and shooting it back like it was nothing. “Filler back up while I find a good movie.” Dean settled on the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly after scrolling through his recently watched which was full of mainly Cowboy movies with the occasional nature documentary (Thanks Cas). 

Not halfway through the movie, Dean had drunk enough to get his lips to unzip. “You know, every time I see one of those bars that have them lady’s who you know are hookers, it makes me think of Cas.” 

“Is that so?” John said pouring himself another drink as well as refilling Dean’s. 

“Yeah. I took him to this brothel one time. Hardest I had laughed in years. He was so awkward and uncomfortable it was hilarious,” Dean laughed. 

“What he not like women or something?” John pried. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Every time he’s shown any interest, it has been more out of curiosity. That’s at least how he explained hooking up with April.” Dean’s responses were rolling out of his mouth. 

“The angel hooked up with someone? Isn’t that a sin?” John asked trying to get more information. 

“Eh. He says the Bibles are full of inaccuracies. I remember him showing up in churches and criticizing priests who were condemning gay people to hell. Besides, April was out to kill him anyway.” 

“Do you think he might be a queer?” John asks. Dean stiffens up and takes another sip of his drink, eyes on the TV screen. 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I’d really rather not talk about this.” Dean gulps out of his glass. 

“Sorry, just trying to figure the guy out,” John said trying to get Dean to open back up. 

“Just ask me other things about him. Like, he won’t admit that he can’t taste my cooking, but he will always eat it and say it’s delicious. He is fascinated with nature even though he literally saw it get created. That’s what all those docs were. I let him pick movies sometimes. I know he doesn’t necessarily like the Westerns, but he will always watch them with me if I ask.” Dean smiles to himself. A goofy, lovesick smile. Anyone, even skeptical John, could see that Dean was in love with Cas. 

John leans back and stops filling Dean’s glass, suddenly feeling very guilty about prying into Dean and Cas’s lives. The angel would watch and eat things he knew Dean liked, just to make Dean happy. John remembered doing things like that for Mary. 

“What? You done drinking? We still got a quarter of the bottle left. Pass it over,” Dean said reaching over to grab the bottle. John hesitated thinking about what information he wanted, but also what the bartender said about Dean getting really upset. By the time John decided it was time to cut Dean off, Dean had grabbed the bottle and taken a large swig out of it. 

“Dean, you’re slurring your words. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” John started, feeling a weird pang of Deja Vu. 

“With the week we’ve been having? I’m surprised Sammy’s not dragging us both home from the bar. Well, Ant cut me off, but you know what I mean,” Dean responds before taking another swig. 

“Dean,” John said starting to see the effect he had on his son. 

“You know how we were talking about Cas? Did you know he came back to life the same fucking day you did?” Dean slurred. “I mean come on. It’s like Chuck doesn’t want us together. Well, I mean I know he doesn’t, but still. Can’t he just butt out?” 

John stayed quiet. He felt like Dean might be reaching the spot Anthony talked about. 

“I mean, he never said anything. Never. Not until Billy, I’m sorry Death, was banging on the door. You know I still haven’t stepped foot in that damn room? I can’t even walk past it without hearing his stupid fucking speech about being happy, just knowing me. ME. He killed himself for me. After we agreed not to do any more kamikaze shit,” Dean was now yelling at his father. “He made some stupid deal with the Empty and now he’s all kinds of fucked up. And you’re here, setting everyone on edge. I’m surprised Cas didn’t kill you. He hates you more than I do.” Dean laughed. 

John paused the movie. The reality of the situation came crashing down on top of him. John had gotten his son, who he knew was an alcoholic, drunk to get information out of him. What kind of a father was he? Dean still hadn’t stopped talking. 

“I mean, you sent me away to a boy’s home because I stole food because you didn’t leave us with enough money while you were playing house with Adam. You never left us with enough money. The shit I did to be able to just feed Sammy.” Dean’s eyes were red. 

“I fucking hate you. You know that? God, it took me so long to realize that. And I love you. That’s why you are here. With me and Sammy. You know I almost pulled the trigger that day? God, I was so pissed off at you and Chuck and the Empty and it would have been so easy. You wanna know why I didn’t shoot you? It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll tell you that. It’s because I didn’t want the gunshot to scare Cas. How fucked up is that?” Dean just kept rambling. 

John didn’t know what to do. He made a mistake. He’s made too many mistakes. He had to fix this. “Hey Jack, angel kiddo, whatever I should call you. Will you come to the ‘Dean cave’? I’ve really messed up.” Within seconds, Jack was in the room. He looked over at the empty whiskey bottle in Dean’s hand. 

“Jack, buddy what are you doing up? You know Cas wants you in bed before ten.” Jack walked over and tapped Dean’s forehead, putting him to sleep. 

“What did you just do?” John asked panicked. 

“He’s just sleeping. Where did he get this? Sam got rid of all the big bottles,” Jack observed. 

“I didn’t realize he was this bad,” Is all John said. John walked over and scooped Dean up into his arms like he did when Dean fell asleep watching cartoons in the old motels. John took Dean to his room and was slightly surprised to find the angel asleep on one side of the bed. John didn’t even mention it as he placed Dean down next to Cas watching as they moved closer to each other like magnets. Castiel grabbed Dean pulling their bodies together, fitting like puzzle pieces. 

John left the room, closing the door behind him. He went back and cleaned up the mess in the ‘Dean cave’ and turned off the TV. For the first time since Mary died, he cried. 

(CH 6) ·:*¨༺ I love the Idea of Places I’ll Never go ༻¨*:·

Dean woke up with a pounding headache. He didn’t even remember getting to bed last night, but he must have made some sort of advance on Cas since his arms were wrapped around Dean. 

“Morning, Cas,” Dean couldn't help but grin.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said. Dean’s heart quickened. It was like old times. “You’re sick.” Cas moved his hand up to Dean’s forehead and removed the powerful hangover he had. “Better?” 

“Yeah, better. Thanks, Cas,” Dean’s grin got wider. Cas and him sat in the comfortable silence they always had just looking at each other. 

A knock at their door sent Cas back into a panicked state, pulling his wings back out. 

“Hey, Dean? You decent?” Sam calls into the door. 

“Uh, Yeah. Hold on.” Dean ran a hand over his face before getting out of bed to open the door. “What’s going on?” He asked. 

“Have you seen Dad? He’s not in his room, kitchen, library, or weaponry,” Sam explained. 

“Uh, check the ‘Dean Cave.’ We watched a movie there last night. Let me calm Cas back down, then I will head out,” Dean responded.  

Sam could smell the alcohol on Dean’s breath, but he didn’t seem hungover, so Sam decided not to bring it up. He walked down the hall towards the ‘Dean Cave’ and opened the door. His dad wasn’t there but there was a note taped to the couch. 

Dear Boys, 

I’m sorry for the way your life has turned out. I had some sort of realization last night and I don’t think I will be able to face you two again. Dean, I’m glad Cas makes you happy even if he’s a man. Sam, marry that Eileen girl. You’ve got a good thing going with her. You’re raising that kid well. He probably knows what I did and probably will tell you guys because somehow the Devil’s son is more honest than any of us Winchesters will ever be. 

Tell Mary I will always love her. 

J.W. 

“Oh, crap,” Sam says after reading. Sam runs back down the hallway to Dean’s room who is exiting with Cas who has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat, pulling it closer. “Dean. What the hell did you and Dad talk about last night?” 

Dean tried to remember through the whiskey’s haze. Cas just put two fingers to Dean’s head again, clearing his foggy memory. 

“Shit,” Dean whispered. 

“What?” Sam tried not to let his frustration through for fear of scaring Cas. 

“Look, you’re going to be pissed. Just a heads up,” Dean leads with. Sam just nods his head. “We shared a bottle of that cheap whiskey Dad always drank growing up. He, he got me talking. You know how I am. I wouldn’t shut up. God dammit. Jack saw some of it. I’m not sure how much he saw.” 

“Apparently enough to make Dad leave,” Sam says shoving the note towards Dean. Dean’s eyes flicker back through the letter. 

“Wait, this said Dad did something. I don’t remember him doing anything. I was the one who wouldn’t shut up.” 

Jack’s bedroom door creaked open. “I know what he did. He was radiating guilt when I walked in,” Jack whispered. 

“Jack. No.” Cas said. 

“What do you mean no, Cas? Why can’t we know what happened?” Dean huffed. Cas just shook his head. Jack now looked back in forth between the two brothers and his father. 

“They will be unhappy,” Cas finally croaked out a full sentence. 

“What, so you know what happened too?” Dean asked. Cas nodded his head. 

“Cas we are already unhappy. What’s the worst our Dad could have done that he hasn’t done before?” Sam asked looking over to Jack for the answer. Jack took a deep breath. 

“He got Dean drunk to test to see if Cas was controlling his mind and ended up getting a rant from Dean about how much he hates his Dad, saying the only reason he didn’t shoot him was because of Cas being skittish,” Jack said as fast as he could. 

“He what?” Sam said sounding angry while Dean just laughed. 

“Ah, I could have told y’all that,” Dean said. “Wasn’t the first time he did that shit. Not sure why this time me threatening him drunk made him apologize. Made him leave? Yeah, that happened almost every time. He’s never apologized before. That’s crazy,” Dean chuckled again. 

“He’s done that before?” Sam asked quietly. 

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy. Hardly the worst thing he did to us,” Dean smiled. 

“You’re not mad? How can you not be mad?” Sam could feel his anger bubbling up. 

“Cuz I told him the truth he didn’t want to hear. For some reason this time he actually believed it. Normally he would stomp out saying I was lying to make him feel like a horrible father. Maybe he just realized he was one.” Dean shrugged and walked away going to go get coffee. Cas followed behind quietly. 

“Morning, Eileen. Morning, Mom.” 

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Mary smiled. 

“Yeah, well Dad’s a dumbass who got his feelings hurt like a little kid,” Dean laughed. 

“Where is John?” Eileen signed and spoke. 

“He left,” Sam said walking into the kitchen. 

The bunker lights started flickering. Cas brought his wings out and produced an Angel Blade. 

“Cas?” Dean asked. 

“This was not how it was supposed to go!” Chuck yelled appearing in the middle of the kitchen. He snapped and brought a drunken John into the kitchen. “He was supposed to break up you two idiots. Kill Cas or something. Maybe even kill one of you. Come on! This was not the John Winchester who raised you two!” 

“Yeah, well this John has Mary,” Dean shrugged. “Dad was different when Mary was alive.” He took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. 

“You should be scared of him!” Chuck yelled. 

“Yeah, no offense Chucky Cheese, but you sent me to hell if I remember correctly. You had me bear the Mark of Cain, don’t ask,” Dean said turning to his Dad, who hadn’t heard that part of the story. “You had me help raise the kid of the Devil, who killed Cas. Then almost had me kill him. That’s not even covering everything, Chuck. My dad is nothing compared to defeating a literal God.” 

Jack steps foot into the kitchen. “Hey, you are not supposed to be here,” Jack observed. “Should I call Aunty Amara?” 

“Let’s leave Amara out of this, kid. This doesn’t concern her,” Chuck said. 

“Yeah, she won’t be mad you are hurting Dean Winchester. Her savior. The man who helped her reunite with her crappy brother. The man who broke her out of the cage she was in,” Sam scoffed. 

“You know what?” Chuck snapped, their Dad becoming sober. “Just finish this out.” Chuck disappeared after that. 

“What’s going on?” John asks getting up off the floor. 

“You’re leaving?” Jack asked looking at the note that was left on the table. 

“Come on Dad, you’re going to make the kid cry if you leave,” Dean branches out. 

“I just don’t know what to say,” John sighed quietly. 

“Then don’t say anything. Grab a gun and go shoot something. We got a range down here and you are probably rusty after 10 years.” Dean said leaving the kitchen with Cas following behind him. “Cas if you are coming with, you will have to tuck those wings in. Let’s not break them again.” 

“Bullets do not hurt me, Dean,” Cas scoffed. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean smiled and slipped his hand into Cas’s. 

“I wouldn't follow them,” Sam said at the same time Mary did. 

“Why not?” John said panicked. 

“I’ve been trying to get them to get rid of that damn tension for over 10 years now. I would not want to be there if it’s starting to break. If you understand?” Sam explains getting a slow nod from John who is pale. 

“You know I don’t like the idea of a monster and a human together,” John huffed. 

“Yeah well, you would if you’ve been the third wheel to their stares that last all a bit too long,” Sam laughed. 

“I’m not sure I understand?” Jack says. 

“You haven’t had ‘the talk’ with the boy yet? What is he 20?” John asks. 

“I’m four. What talk?” Jack says. 

“He’s four?” John asks. 

“Yeah, he grew rapidly. Honestly, I’m not sure if he knows or not,” Sam explains. 

“Know what? Stop talking like I’m not here!” Jack pouts. 

“Jack, you know how Dean tried to get Cas to hook up with that waitress?” Sam asks, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah. Dean had sex with a lot of waitresses.” Mary choked her coffee hearing that response. 

“Yeah okay,” Sam says. He takes another breath in preparing himself. “Dean and Cas are probably going to start doing that soon.” 

“They haven’t already?” Jack asks getting a laugh out of Sam. 

“Nope not yet.” 

“But they sleep in the same room,” Jack observed. Mary got up and left, done with the awkwardness in the room. John would have followed if he wasn’t frozen in place. 

“Yeah, Jack. Dean and Cas are a little confusing.” Sam explains. 

“So are they not married?” Jack asks confused. John looks like he wants to flee and wishes he could be like Eileen, who has her nose in a book ignoring everything. 

“What gave you the impression they were married?” Sam asked. 

“Cas wears a wedding band. So does Dean.” 

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well the band Dean wears is technically a wedding band, but he wears it on his right. It was our Dad’s before he died. And, uh, you remember how Clair is kinda your sister?” 

“Yeah, because of Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy.”

“He is possessing some guy?!” John roars. 

“Dad, chill. Jimmy hasn’t been in the vessel since I was in the cage.” Sam brings his attention back to Jack. “Well, Jimmy was married. I guess Cas never took it off. He tries to take care of the vessel to honor Jimmy.”

“Oh. Well, when will they get married?” Jack’s naivety can be frustrating at some points, even if it can be endearing. 

“I’m not sure, Jack. Those things take time.” Sam smiles down at the Nephilim.

(CH 7) ·:*¨༺ I am Happy to be bonding in the Kitchen with my Friends ༻¨*:· 

Cas is getting better every day. It’s been about a month since he was brought back and he is significantly better than the day he came back. He still has moments where he won’t speak and becomes skittish, but they are less frequent. 

Dean gets better as Cas gets better. They have been much more affectionate than they have ever been. John is still clearly uncomfortable and sometimes scoffs and leaves the room when they show too much affection, but he tries to keep it to himself since every time he says something Mary threatens him. 

John starts to get to know his sons for the first time. He always knew that Sam was smart, but he also had a knack for witchcraft (another thing both John, Mary, and Dean all had to get used to). Dean, still strong with almost perfect aim, is incredibly intelligent. He knows about classic literature and can read multiple languages. 

John tries to get to know Castiel, but Castiel seems to be less forgiving than Sam and Dean. If Dean is in the room, he will say very few words to John, all of them generally polite. If it is just John and Cas, he threatens John with one wrong move and he will smite him without hesitation. 

Mary and John are starting to bond once more, but may never love each other the same way they did. John is trying to adjust to the idea of Hunter Mary and not Housewife Mary. He finds comfort in the fact that it also took Dean quite a long time to adjust. 

John is slowly adjusting to the new world he is in. New tools, weapons, and gadgets are easier to accept than the new allies the brothers have. Witches, demons, Vampires, Werewolves, etc. Apparently, the hunter Mary was hunting with was a Werewolf, who was hunting down other Werewolves who were hurting people. 

Even with all these changes, John is happy to be home with his boys. 

[dreamwinged]

i havent seen this artist in YEARRSSSSSS WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY TWITTER TIMELINE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

just saw maybe the most insane post i’ve ever seen in my fucking life i dont even know how to react 😭

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[another-clive-blog]

HOW HAVE I NEVER NOTICED THIS

LAYTON USES TU FOR FUTURE LUKE BUT SWITCHES TO VOUS THE SECOND CLIVE'S IDENTITY IS REVEALED.

Tu and vous both mean you but Tu implies closeness : in the entirety of Unwound Future, Layton only ever uses Tu with Flora, the Lukes and Claire

[lesbianfakir]

Y’all I’m so sad. I keep playing video games made by one or two people and now I want to make a video game soooooooo bad so I can design my perfect game and more importantly make the art. But!! Programming is my mortal enemy she and I do NOT get along. Maybe I could make something simple in terms of programming like a visual novel but I want more involved gameplay :,( I really want a fun video game project now

[kaiowut99]

GX Finalized-Subs!118 (WIP): Reason to Live (Required OST)

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Man if Marcy keeps ending up with like child protection services in all these fics over her parents being slightly distant then my parents should be in JAIL

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[mysticfemme]

the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine