#which is werid because being in a group of men and being seen as one of the guys is such euphoria

[box-dwelling]

The seven gives me weird gender feelings

[harleyliloquin88]

Hello Boys 

Pairing:  Dean X Reader X Sam

Warning: Drinking / Language/ Blood/ Fighting/Few Bruises 

Tagged list  @katymacsupernatural @myinconnelly1 @marvelfansworld @deanwanddamons @waywardrose13 @nikki082489 @sourwolf-sterek32 @maddiepants @holylulusworld Summary: It has been a year snice you died Sam  and dean have looked into everything to find  you have even asked around but nothing, Sam and dean were about to give u until one night you run into them

(Dean pov)

sighing  to myself rubbing my hand down my face, other tire night sam and me have been looking everywhere and asking if any one has seen (y?n) haven’t found any leads or anything. Trying my best to stay positive and keep hopeful. sirting in my seat I look over to sam who seems to be on his phone talking to another voice I hear.

“thanks man I owe you a big  one” Sams say getting off the phone and looking over to me,  holding a napkin.

“whats up” I say being hopeful.

“well there have been attacks but guess this they aren’t anima  attacks or anything” sam says rasing his eye browns.

“okay so why is it supernatural” I say looking out at the road, sighing to myself,\

“that’s the interesting thing about this case” people have seen a(h/l/ (h/c/ ( h/s). Person coming out after the victimins have been killed. ‘But whats it worse its that when the police investigation the scene they found werid demonic writtings on the wall. Dean bites his thumb and starts thinking and the only thing he can think of is either crowley or another demon. As he about to finish his sentence.

 “Hello moose hello squirrell’ He says smiling at the brothers and smiling at them. . dean looks back almost lossing control of the car. The car Jerks to left. Almost hittng a ditch in the road. Dean regains his car and pulls,over angrily getting outta the car. Abd lookinh over his car. Waliing uo to the healight. He sees a snall scratch on hus hood. “You gonna pay fo the crowley’ he says almost ywlling at him. ‘aweee boohoo its replace able just like your girlfriend since you tend to have one every week He says with an evil smile. “Ooohh thats it” deans says about to hit crowely when sam holds dean him back. ‘Look you too can kill each other another time. Right now we are looking for (y/n) sam says. Dean walking off to cool himself down. 

‘What the hell are you here doing crowley dont you have something to do in hell? sams says while dean chimes. ’ awewee what no family bonding no camp fire songs. He says with a scarsam voice. ‘Look the real reason im here is because i found some infromation you and squirrel were looking for. Crowley pulls out a big envlope. He hands it to sam. ‘Just so we are clear this isnt the work of my men or lucifers. He says yelling at dean. 

Sam opens the large to his shock it was a picture of none then( Y/n) coming out of a victmin home  covered in blood and a knife in her hand, But his shock is when her sees her eyes aren’t hers. While look thru the picture  he can see the markings that are written in blood, Dean start walking over to Sam.  Looking down at shirt which in covered in dust, Dean looks up at Sam his face is basically drained of color He gives dean a sympathy look .

“Sam what is it” Dean looks at him. Sam sighs and closes his eyes. He sets the pictures on the hood of baby. Dean eyes go wide and he feels this rage coming from his stomach. He grabs the pictures both of the pictures and throws them off the car,

“I don’t believe it sam” \

“dean It looks like her and reports saying they match that description” dean grabs sam hard and pushes him against the hood of the car.

Fire in his eyes and a pain his heart. He didnt wanna believe it was [y/n) he knew in his heart it wasnt her but another part of him knew she was. “SAM I know she still in there i can feel it you know her she would never hurt anyone not even a fly’ he says letting of sam. Few miles south A young 29 year old male with blonde hair. Strapped to a chair. A big bruise over this eye. His face swollen. A Big gash above his right cheek. Trying his best to get out. He is restrained by chains. Screaming yelling. ‘Who ever the fuck you are you better let me go’ he says yelling at a [h/l] [h/c] [h/l] . Who turns around with a large knife in her hand. She smiles at him her eyes turning black. Walking over to him and swinging the knife in her hand walking behind snickering in his ear. 'We can do this the easy way or the head way" you say holding the knife up to neck. He starts swallowing slowly. On the other side of the room stood a older man and two young kids. “I see you meant my new apprentice’ he says holding his hands behind his back. 'What the hell do you want with me” he says struggling to get outta your grib. Looking up at the older gentleman. “i hear you been hanging with two brothers’ he says grabbing the man hard *what are you talking about brothers’ Standing there with the knife in your hand. 'Sam and dean" the older man yells at the kid 'I never heard of them" he says shaking. 'If i find out you are lying" you see this young prettt thing i promise you she will rip you in too. "IM GONNA ASK AGAIN WHERE ARE THE WHINCHESTER BROTHERS. He screams. 'I dont know" he say grabbing the knife you plunge in into his chest swirl it around and pull it out and watch him drop to the floor. You step over the body and walk over to the group. He hands you a napkin you wipe off the blood. "Not much help he gonna give us" he says rolling his eyes making his way out of the room. I did as much aa i could let me know what you think and reblog and comments i will write more just tired .

[ponticle]

Alistair in May (Day 6: ‘5 Months Apart’ Anderstair Challenge)

[Masterpost]

[Read it on Ao3]

Chapter Summary:  Alistair is reticent to help Icis with a problem at work. In the aftermath of a mistake, he turns to Dorian for help. Rated T: bad decisions, relationship drama.

Alistair in May

Dear Anders,

The summer is almost upon us. I’m getting married in exactly three months. We’re in wedding planning overdrive right now. As weird as it seems, I’m actually pretty into planning this thing. I picked all the centerpieces and I hired the band. I even had input on what Icis is wearing. She’s having a beautiful white suit tailored. It’s super sexy—an ironic, bold choice. You’d love it.

Neither of us is changing our names. We became doctors with these names, after all. It’s a big accomplishment, as you well know.

That’s the major problem here, isn’t it? I keep thinking about what your input in all of this would be. It’s so stupid.

Anyway… we sent out the invitations a couple days ago. We invited Renee, of course. I can’t help but wonder if you’ve continued seeing him after the gala. If you have, I hope you’re happy. He’s a really nice kid. But I’m also scared that you are dating him. I have this insane idea that you’ll show up at my wedding. And I’ll wish you were there to break it up, but you won’t be. You’ll be there announcing you’re getting married too… or you’re adopting a baby like Cullen and Dorian… or you’re moving out of the country for doctors without borders… or something.

I’m sure none of that will happen.

Alistair is stressed about the close of the academic year. He has so much more pressure on him this year than he has in the past. It’s up to him (virtually alone) to decide who will be offered attending positions and who won’t. He’s going to ask Dorian and Cullen to help him. He won’t ask Icis, though. It would be incredibly inappropriate.

Thankfully, he has nothing to do with the decision about what will happen to her, since she’s surgical and he isn’t. That will be up to a whole other breed of doctor to decide, actually. Surgeons are like another species—driven by a need to conquer. He sees it in her—he always has.

She opens the door noisily and drops her things. “Al?” she calls.

He stands from his desk and rounds the corner, “Hi?”

“Hi,” she looks upset. “I need to talk to you—now.”

Alistair feels his face flush. Icis usually keeps her cool no matter what.

She pulls him to the couch by the crook of his arm. They sit face to face.

“I promised myself I would never do this,” she bites her lip, “...but I need a favor.”

He almost says, ‘anything,’ but he thinks better of it and elects to nod.

“—I need you to find out if I’m going to be offered a job,” she says.

He feels his face fall, “Icis—you know I can’t do that… that would be a gross abuse of power.”

“Al!” she grabs his hands desperately, “I think Dr. Katz is stonewalling me.”

He squints at her.

“You’ve seen the radiology department—it’s a fucking sausage fest in there,” she yells. “And the interventional radiology group is just five old white guys.”

She’s right, of course. Alistair knows all of them—they’re fixtures. There’s one woman in radiology, but she’s only there so they can keep their research grant.

“Al…” Icis’ expression softens, “I want this so bad… and I deserve it! Please—please—help me.”

Alistair hangs his head, “Okay, Icis—I’ll find out…”

The next day, Alistair gets the information Icis wants. It’s not good news. They’re not planning to offer her a position in this hospital, for reasons unknown, but they are going to make her an offer—back in Boston.

This is bad for a variety of reasons. Primarily, Alistair would not be able to do his same job in the Boston hospital—it would be a demotion and a huge pay cut. Secondarily—and more gut-wrenchingly—Anders is in Boston.

Alistair imagines a scenario where they move back into his old apartment building. Anders still lives upstairs—in their old place, where they fell in love. They run into each other in the elevator one day and he can’t help it—he shoves Anders against the opposing wall and kisses him. His pretends to struggle—he tries to do the right thing—but he’s already running his fingers through Alistair’s hair.

Fuck.

He shakes his head, trying to clear the haze filling his skull from ear to ear.

He picks up his phone, “Hi… Icis?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” she asks. She sounds like she’s trying to keep panic from her voice.

“I found out—they haven’t decided anything yet,” he lies. “They’re having a meeting in a couple weeks—after the term ends.”

“Fuck,” she sighs. “This waiting is going to kill me.”

“I know, right?”

“Thank you so much for looking into this for me,” she sounds so grateful; Alistair hates himself.

“Gotta go; love you, Al.”

He hangs up.

He instantly regrets lying, but it’s too late now. Besides, he’s bought himself a couple weeks to think this through—to figure out if moving is even an option. It strikes him that he doesn’t even entertain the idea that Icis would turn down the job to stay with him. Not because she’s a bad person—not even because he she doesn’t love him enough—but because she values ambition over all else. She’s a warrior—she was made for the struggle. He admires her, even though she’s occasionally terrifying.

Rather than going home, he texts Dorian.

Alistair: can you meet me at that bar we like downtown? The one that’s next to the burrito place?

Dorian: yeah, totally. Give me 20 minutes.

Alistair elects to walk, even though it’s getting dark. May is beautiful in Brooklyn. Along the way, he passes a protest of some kind. A bunch of men wearing shirts with triangles on them are holding up signs and shouting unintelligibly. It’s really werid being a bisexal person—when he was dating Anders, he would have had no qualms about going over there and picking up a sign, but now that he’s marrying a woman, he has reservations. He fears rejection somewhere deep in his subconscious.

He nods encouragingly to the mob, but doesn’t stop.

Around the corner, Dorian is already approaching the bar’s double doors. He stops when he sees Alistair.

“Hey,” smiles Dorian. “How are you?”

Alistair thinks about lying, but he doesn’t. He’s too tired to sustain a fake-happy attitude. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Oh shit, you need a drink,” says Dorian. He puts an arm around Alistair’s shoulders and pulls him inside the restaurant.

“So what’s your deal?” asks Dorian.

Alistair sighs, “I can’t move to Boston.” Without context, he knows this doesn’t make any sense, but he doesn’t know where to start.

Dorian almost laughs, “Okay… what does that mean?”

“Well… we all used to live in Boston… we liked it there, right?” says Alistair. He’s talking into the hollow of his glass. He needs another beer already.

“Yes… we did…” Dorian clears his throat, “Then some things happened and we all eventually moved to Brooklyn… which, honestly, suits me better.”

Alistair smirks, “You were made to live in Brooklyn—right down to your ironic facial hair.”

“Exactly,” laughs Dorian, smoothing his mustache.

“So—short version: Icis is going to be offered a really awesome job in back in Boston. I know about it, but she doesn’t yet…” he pauses, “namely, because I lied to her about it…”

Dorian raises an eyebrow.

“—and I did it because I can’t go back to Boston… not while Anders is still there,” he finishes.

“Andraste’s tits… that’s what this is about?” says Dorian. He’s incredulous.

Alistair nods miserably.

“It’s a big city, Al,” says Dorian.

“I know that… but I feel like his ghost is everywhere…”

“He’s not dead, Al,” deadpans Dorian.

Alistair rolls his eyes.

“...but I know what you mean. Al, this seems like a really major internal conflict,” he says seriously. “And I don’t know why you called me… because Cullen literally does this for a living…” he laughs, “but I’ll tell you what I think, if you want to know.”

Alistair smiles and nods.

“I think seeing Anders at that gala really fucked you up,” says Dorian. “That’s a technical term—ask Cullen…”

They both laugh.

“—and I think you haven’t really dealt with your breakup in any meaningful way. You just got into this new relationship with Icis…” Dorian cocks his head to the side. He looks parental. “Which is a very good relationship—but it’s serious, and it has gravity—and I think you’re going to need to talk to her about this.”

Alistair was afraid of that.

“Thanks, Dor… I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” smirks Dorian. “Next time, though, please call Cullen… I got into radiology because I hate dealing with people…”