#another fun thing is that cas comes to a place of BEING

[shallowseeker]

re your carmen-silvia-amara post: i was talking to a mutual about carmen the other day and we were discussing where her name comes from. and i suggested the opera carmen and she suggested the model carmen electra. and now you suggested carmen 1983, which is very interesting!! that carmen has this pop culture track of being the hot and fun ideal woman. i don't think it's a coincidence they picked that name for her 👀

It's also a portmanteau of CAR-MEN. Two of the things Dean loves the most. 😏

//

I kid, I kid. I love this, though @fivefeetfangirl. Lots of pop culture swirling around this unobtainable idea of the proper dream-girl, huh?

The model Carmen Electra (and, idk why but that makes me think of Elektra by extension):

//

The opera CARMEN (1875)

//

Carmen 1983 - (A dancers' troupe take on the opera; vibes like Baby & Swayze from Dirty Dancing but with their real lives taking on the ironic beats of the opera)

//

There are so many takes looping back around to the Carmen opera. And another 1984 Carmen based more closely on the opera you mentioned, too, for what it's worth. :-)

///

Interestingly, Sylvia Jones functions as a reverse of the opera Carmen. Connor is her Carmen, who she kills out of jealousy. (And narratively, the Dean-and-Cas unit, like I said in this ask, functions as a committed, non-idealized foil to the Dean-and-Carmen ideal!)

On the flipside, Dean functions as Chuck and Amara's Carmen. Chuck, according to Lilith, was psychosexually obsessed with Dean. And Amara, according to Chuck, "wanted Dean to care about her, but humans let you down every time."

In the end, the things Dean cares about are the things Chuck specifically wants to kill. Friends, family, romantic attachments, comrades, you name it! He only resurrects them if (a) Dean becomes too uninteresting without them or (b) it can lead to further torment.

In season 11, when Chuck wraps himself in Dean's dead-guy robe and overfocuses on Dean's skin-deep performances, we see that, in parallel to Amara, Chuck doesn't really know Dean at all.

(Compare to Mary and Jack, two others who get wrapped in the gray MoL robe, and who understand Dean a little too well. And of course, Dean wraps Cas in a similarly-styled gray blanket in season 11.)

To Chuck, Dean is just a symbol of psychosexual obsession. Dean is as ghostly and unreal to Chuck as the djinn-Carmen was to Dean!

ADDENDUM: Lily Sunder is Ishim's Carmen.

[sotc]

as fun as it is to talk about the sillay crow family dynamics, i'm soo interested in what this means for the crow familia going forward in a darker lens.

im mostly speaking from the perspective of a rook de riva who romanced lucanis btw <3

illario brought the axe down on his own head after failing to take first talon. he's imprisoned except to play house whenever caterina wants to see him around for family dinners before tensions inevitably shove him back into the cage he's been left to like some house pet lmfao. it's actually kinda fucked up and as a certified sicko i love it. especially considering the casualness in which lucanis describes all of this. crows gotta be a little unhinged<3

But!!! while lucanis was right that illario's reputation is ruined forever as a traitor crow beaten to his knees before every house that doesn't exactly free house dellamorte either. Talon houses will want their pound of flesh of illario for nearly trying to put antiva under venatori control. and yet lucanis refused. house dellamorte showed mercy. they are breaking the rules, making exceptions. this is not how the crows operate and there should--WILL be retaliations for it. illario left this house bleeding in his attempt to claim first talon and their blood is in the water now with house dellamorte having a sole heir who blatantly exposed a weakness and seemingly has no lineage to take after him.

and nevermind that we know murmurs amongst the crows will linger about a first talon being an abomination. i know lucanis kind of handwaves it off as at the coffee date like 'there could be worst first talons' but baby boy, you have avoidance and denial issues this WILL become worse of a problem the longer it goes on. <3

more under the cut bc i didn't realize this was getting so long lol

but in comes fifth talon viago de riva. a bastard to the king of antiva who wants to strengthen the crown. a man who has been ruthlessly exacting and meticulous to get where he is now. and the scariest part is that he has ambition, always has, and knows he has more power than the king himself to make plays if he needs to. this makes for a dangerous (and sexy) combination. in comes his protege rook. casting silly family dynamics aside, viago knows this union between house dellamorte and de riva is extremely beneficial for both houses but also very dangerous. even he knows his ties to teia show a weakness in him that other crows may seek to exploit. and while i do think he may be sincere about wanting rook to find their happiness with lucanis as he has with teia - i truly think he will not shy from showing the importance of a 'political alliance/union' especially with first talon house dellamorte struggling from the blow after all is said and done.

and of course, by extension to de riva, house cantori and the beautiful lovely miss teia, will be extending her support to strengthen their houses but also herself from any opposition. as much as i love that she's kind of the heart that brings this fucked up lil familia together, i know she is just as cunning and clever to recognize what this alliance does for her too.

and caterina.. well, without going into a whole thought piece on her, she has built her (and her grandson's reputation) entirely to instill fear in others, even command enough respect to know she's the one running things while lucanis is just a stand-in as first talon. but what happens when caterina is gone? another dellamorte dead just like all the others. all lucanis has left is himself and his traitor brother. how does he handle illario? how does he fair being a leader to the crows when he didn't want any of this in the first place and no longer has caterina to guide him? how does he wish to pursue carrying the dellamorte legacy (if at all)? does he seek a protege of his own to take on after him? i can't remember who says it (viago or lucanis) but there's a line about how saving thedas will make their houses immortal (hot and very sexy) but also how far can that reputation protect house dellamorte, really?

i don't really have a point to all of this, this is all just stuff im simply chewing on and letting out into the ether because the ripple effect of repercussions with what illario did and what lucanis now has to deal with fascinates me SO MUCH.

[roolette]

How Mk1 Men Fuck You

CW: NSFW, gn!reader

Bi-Han is just mean about it, frankly. Teasing you, never exactly hitting the spot you need him to, close enough to feel it, but not enough to really do much. And don't bother begging with him. He'll just roll his eyes and scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb and not doing anything to give you release.

"I've barely touched you... how are you that desperate already? Honestly, it's ridiculous. You'll get what you want, just be quiet."

When he finally fucks you, it's at a relentless pace, holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you. He's stopped the teasing now, and is wholly focused on making you fall apart in his arms.

Tomas just wants to make you happy. He begs to taste you, to let him touch you where he wants to. He whines at the slightest touch from you, and you both know that you're the only one who can elicit these reactions from him. He could spend forever between your thighs, seriously, he'd die happy there. He'll run his hands up and down your thighs while he gives you head, he has to be touching you.

"Ahh... you look so... like this, I mean- don't tease me! I'll come up with a good description, just... let me have this."

PLEASE hold his jaw and make him look at you while you ride him. Remind him that he's yours, and he'll practically melt. He'll likely be the more vocal out of the two of you, babbling about how good you feel.

Kuai Liang is possessive in bed, but how can you blame him? It's the place where you're his, completely. And maybe this is just me being insane over that skin where his hair is up, but but he likes when you pull his hair while he fucks into you. You can also run your nails along his back, and good luck to anyone who comments on it. He's yours, and you're his, and he wants sex with you to be a reminder of that. He likes being able to look at you while he fucks you, especially those lovely expressions you make.

"No, don't look away. Keep your eyes on me. I don't want to miss a second of this."

You didn't initially expect him to be so open with his feelings in bed, but he likes to be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you, and he doesn't have to be anyone but yours.

When it comes to fast and hard, it's Johnny Cage. Sex with him is always so energetic, and you have to wonder where that energy comes from. Admittedly, it took some time in the relationship for him to be intimate or slow with you, but you got there. Even then, he just likes sex to be fun. He'll crack jokes, tease you, or randomly bite you when you're least expecting it. He'll thrust up into you while you ride him, just to be a dick and throw you off balance. Have I mentioned he's a brat? Because he's a brat.

"So. You come here often? Well, you're about to, and- hey, ow! I'm supposed to be on camera, you know."

When he's intimate and slow, though, he really is. He'll whisper praises in your ear, words so genuine that it makes you blush more than the things he's doing to you. Everything he's too afraid to say sometimes, it all falls apart when you're in his arms.

I'm SICK and TIRED of people saying that Raiden doesn't know anything about sex, etc. He is loving, tender, and occasionally giggly. He sees sex as another way to be near you and show you how much he loves you. He'll kiss you all over while he's inside you, and he loves to praise you. He likes to fuck you with you in his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist. It's perfect, really. He can go deep inside you and look at you at the same time.

"You look so perfect like this. I'll move, love, I promise, just let me watch you for a moment."

He can make you cum fast, but he chooses not to. He likes to draw out your pleasure. Less to tease, and more to make it last as long as possible. He wants to fall apart with you.

Kenshi is going to make you cum on his fingers before he even thinks about fucking you. He's infuriatingly good at it, too. He'll leave you gasping and moaning just from his fingers, and he can't help but smile smugly about it, which only makes it more frustrating. You can beg him to fuck you, but it won't work. That's happening when he decides to, and not a moment sooner. So you may as well get used to cumming on his fingers.

"You're seriously still begging? C'mon, you know it's not going to work. Still, it's nice hearing you like this."

When he finally fucks you, it's slow and rough, going as deep as possible with each stroke. He'll wrap his arms around you while he does, face pressed against your shoulders, muttering praises and teasing words against your skin.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Hii i was wondering if you could do the slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere (Brahms Bo and any others of your chosing)

slashers with an s/o who likes being carried around everywhere

mentioned: brahms heelshire, bo sinclair, thomas hewitt, stu macher, michael myers, tiny firefly

warnings: mentions of murder

a/n: thank you so much for the request, this was so fun to write!

also, i had to put tiny in here because i just love him so much :((

brahms heelshire

the one thing brahms yearns for in his life is closeness, somebody who will never leave him

so when you express that you like to be carried around he can't really believe his luck

he loves being close to you and this is just another opportunity for just that

he'll probably carry you one of two ways; he'll either carry you in his arms bridal style, or he'll carry you chest to chest (i don't really know how to actually describe it)

he hates being alone so he loves being able to have you with him most of the time

he won't carry you around all the time though because he still has his own things to do

bo sinclair

he hates it...or at least, he claims he does

bo usually spends his days alone, either working in the gas station or playing his part to lure unsuspecting victims into the town

he never really has much going on, and if he's being honest, it gets lonely

his brother vincent rarely comes out from his workshop and lester rarely has much to do with the town itself so he's left to his own devices most days, with nothing but his own mind to slowly drive him crazy

the second he discovers you like being carried everywhere, he takes a lot of enjoyment in doing exactly that

he doesn't really carry you properly, he kind of just drags you

it's somewhat like a half-assed piggy back

and although he'll spend the majority of the time grunting and groaning about it, cussing you out under his breath, he actually really loves finally having somebody so close to him

it certainly makes his days less lonely

whilst he's very uncaring though about how he carries you, if you're ill or you're injured, he'll make sure to be real careful with you

day to day though he really couldn't give a shit about being careful but he'll never admit to how much he loves carrying you

thomas hewitt

thomas doesn't like being away from you much, so being able to carry you around is just a bonus for him

he takes every opportunity to pick you up and carry you places, even if you haven't asked

sometimes he'll pick you up bridal style and sometimes he'll simply sling you over his shoulder because it's easier

his family get on at him for doing it so much because you need to pull your weight and such and he's just letting you laze around but he doesn't listen to them

he continues to carry you around because he really just loves having you with him all the time

he hopes you never stop enjoying being carried everywhere because he loves it

stu macher

he loves carrying you around

he's always offering to give you piggy backs

sometimes he'll take you by surprise and throw you over his shoulder and carry you like that

either way, he finds it fun to carry you around everywhere

he has requested a piggy back or two in the past though, which ultimately ended with you almost collapsing beneath him

michael myers

he doesn't really care either way, but there's no way he'll put any effort into carrying you. you either hang off the back of his shoulders or nothing

michael's pretty strong so having you on his back wouldn't really affect his day to day activities

stalking his sister? no problem. you're not even there

murdering someone who happened to get in his way? he barely even notices you

simply walking down the street, having you on his back makes no difference as he simply couldn't care less

he does secretly enjoy having you with him though as he gets lonely sometimes

you're like a little companion he can just take with him wherever he goes

tiny firefly

tiny likes to be helpful so he definitely doesn't mind carrying you around

he's used to anyone outside of his family shying away from him because of his appearance, so when he learns that you want him to carry you around places, he practically jumps at the chance

he loves that you're not afraid of him like most people and is honestly happy to help you out in this way

he enjoys having the company and he also enjoys being able to be close to you, so this is really a win win situation for you both

[Main Masterlist]

[saltcxrcle]

after everything ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: reunions, explanations, reconciliations, and hope for the future 

pairings: sam winchester x fem! reader, prev samjess x reader, prev samjessノ wc: 4.0k warnings: pt. 3/3, no use of 'y/n', switching povs/omniscient narrator, angst, mentions of jess's death, eventual fluff, a bittersweet/happy ending, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: wahhh its over guys T-T i had so much fun writing this for you guys and i can't believe its over!! trust i have some other multi-chapter fics lined up for the summer and ofc other one-shots but for right now enjoy the last part of the after series!! the after series masterlist

SAM WOULDN’T ADMIT IT, BUT HE WAS TIRED. 

Tired of what exactly? He could give you a laundry list that was as long as his forearm. The exhaustion that swept over him was all too familiar—it was permanently etched into his bones like the angel warding Cas had done so long ago. 

Sam rubbed his face as he hunched over his laptop at the table in the motel. It was one of the nicer ones that he and Dean had stayed in lately. The decor was simple: standard wooden nightstands, lamps on either one, an art print hanging between the beds, and the wallpaper was a simple cream color. 

Sam was pleasantly surprised when he entered the room and looked at Dean for an explanation.  

Dean shrugged. “Wanted to stay in a place where the smell of cigarette smoke wasn’t permanently ingrained in the room.”  

Sam just nodded his head, and after setting up the warding in the room, he promptly sank into the queen-sized mattress and slept. 

The hunt was a simple one, just a vengeful spirit that awoke because people were renovating their old house. The previous owner had died in that house, so he didn’t take it too kindly to his home being destroyed. It was an open-and-shut case, leaving the Winchesters in a small town in Washington for an extra couple of days. 

“We should take a break here.” Dean said as they were in the Impala, heading back from salting and burning the corpse of the old house owner. 

“A break?” Sam asked. 

Dean nodded. “Why not? We’re a couple miles from Seattle. We can spend a couple of days there before heading back to the bunker.” 

Sam studied Dean with a raised brow. He could see the same exhaustion mirrored in his older brother’s features. Sam swallowed thickly before dragging his eyes away from Dean. 

“Sure, why not. I could use a few days off.” Sam said before pulling out his phone and starting to research things to do in Seattle. 

Once they made it to Seattle, Dean splurged on another motel, and it felt strange to Sam that he was in a city with his brother but not working on a hunt. So here he was, only two days into staying in Seattle, and he was researching for another hunt. But there was nothing out of the ordinary that caught his attention, making him breathe out a harsh breath as he leaned back in his chair. 

Dean was out with the Impala, checking out the pop culture museum. It was a shock to Sam that Dean would willingly go to a museum on his own, but considering it was the pop culture museum, it made a whole lot of sense that Dean would want to go. 

Sam shut his laptop and got up from his seat. The room felt too small for him right now. He grabbed his tan jacket, wallet, and motel key—feeling the coastal spring breeze on his cheeks as he exited the motel room. Shoving his hands in his jacket, Sam started to walk further into the city, passing by the different shops and restaurants that Seattle had to offer. 

It was a sunny day in Seattle, which was rare for the city, but spring was coming to a close, and summer was rapidly approaching. 

A cafe sign caught Sam’s eye. It was a hole-in-the-wall place, but through the shop window, Sam could see the rustic and vintage decor that was hung up throughout the place. 

They would have loved this place. Sam thought wistfully as he stared into the coffee shop. Before he knew it, his hand was on the handle of the door. When he opened the door, the small bell above the door rang, alerting the baristas of a potential new customer. 

The scent of roasted coffee beans washed over Sam as he stepped up to the counter. The cafe wasn’t too busy—customers of all ages were scattered through the floor plan of the place, most working in the quiet atmosphere of the shop, save for the music playing overhead and the sounds of the coffee beans being ground or drinks being made. 

“Hi! What can I get you?” The barista greeted Sam at the register. 

Sam sent them a polite smile. “Could I get a regular black coffee, hot?” 

“Is that all for you today?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, could I get a name for the order? And that’ll be $5 flat.” 

Sam gave them a ten-dollar bill. “Sam. Keep the change.” 

“Thank you. Your order will be out soon.” 

Sam nodded at the barista, turned around from the counter, took a few steps, and let his eyes scan the shop for an empty seat. He froze when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. You were sitting by one of the big bay windows by the front of the shop. You were writing furiously in a journal while your laptop was open in front of you. 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as he was transported back to the week after Jess died. 

Sam ignored his phone for the fifth time today, and Dean was getting annoyed with the constant buzzing and ringing from it. 

“Dude, answer your damn phone already.” Dean grumbled as he sat at the table, cleaning his gun. 

Sam’s face screwed up at Dean, rolling his eyes before he pressed the ignore button on his phone. He couldn’t bear to look at you right now, not after Jess. His eyes were focused on his laptop as the sound of his keyboard clicking filled in the near silent room. 

“Who’s calling you anyways?” Dean spoke up again, clearly curious as to who was calling you for the fifth time in a row. 

“No one.” Sam grumbled. “It’s probably a spam caller.” 

“A spam caller is calling you five times in a row with no rest in between?” 

“Dean. Drop it.” Sam’s tone was harsh. Sam didn’t want to explain the entire situation that you, him, and Jess had established not even a month ago. Sam stared hard at the screen in front of him. How could everything go so wrong so quickly? He had his partners by his side and was supposed to be interviewing for law school and continuing his life away from the nightmare he fought so hard to get away from. 

Sam’s phone started to ring again. He audibly groaned, ignoring the pointed look Dean sent him, and finally answered his phone. 

“You better open that door Winchester.” Your harsh voice echoed through the receiver, your words cutting off any greeting that Sam had for you. 

His eyes widened in confusion, but he followed your instructions. Sam got up from his seat and went to the motel door. He opened the door and was met by your red-rimmed eyes filled with anger and worry as you held your phone up to your ear. 

Your eyes softened slightly at the sight of Sam but hardened again as you hung up your phone. “You better have a damn good reason why you’ve been avoiding my calls for the past couple of days.” 

Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but you quickly shoved your way inside of the motel room. Sam exclaimed your name, trying to grab you before you could make it even further into the room, but you were too quick for him. 

Your eyes met green ones filled with confusion and intrigue. Your eyes quickly gave the guy sitting at the table a once over, noting the gun in his hands before it clicked in your mind who this was. 

“How did you find me?” Sam asked, his tone betraying the uneasiness that was building in his gut. 

“Brady told me where you were.” You had never really liked Brady—you always got a weird feeling in your stomach whenever you hung out with him with the rest of the friend group. But Brady was your last resort since no one else knew where he was. Hell, you found out about the apartment fire because of him. 

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “I never told Brady where I was.” 

You paused for a second before shaking your head. “Well, I really don’t care how he knew, I’m just thankful that he did know and told me because did you really think I wasn’t going to come looking for you, after everything that just happened?”  

Sam let out a breath. Of course, he knew that you were going to look for him. A large part of him was glad that you weren’t in the apartment that night with Jess. His entire world would have collapsed if you were. Now, a small part of him hates that he has to figure out how to get you off of his back so he can leave. 

“Of course not.” 

“Then why dodge my calls?” 

“Because I’m leaving.” 

Silence filled the room. 

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly. 

Dean looked at this scene with bated breath. He had no idea who you were, but it was clear to him that you were important to Sam—Dean just didn’t know how.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. “After what happened,” Sam paused, shaking his head and looking away from you—his eyes focused on the wallpaper of the room, “I can’t be here anymore.” 

“You’re not staying for the funeral? Your words came out breathless, shaky. You could feel your eyelids start to burn. 

Sam said nothing, jaw clenched as he nodded. 

You shook your head, a scoff escaping your lips. “Do you think running away is going to help with the gaping hole in your chest?” 

Sam wanted to tell you everything, how monsters exist, how Jess’s death wasn’t an accident, and how he was going to go and kill the thing that killed her. 

“I’m just taking a page out of your book.” He was clearly referring to the fact that you avoided them for almost two weeks earlier this month. 

“That was different and you know that.” You hissed through your teeth, poking your finger into his chest. 

Sam grabbed your wrist as your name fell from his lips with a gentle whisper. “I know. But it hurts so much, I have to go.” 

“Do you have to?” Without me? The unadded question filled the widening gap between you and Sam. 

Sam looked at you with a sad smile. It’s one of his smiles you’ve never seen before. Half of his lips pulled up reproachfully as he looked down at you, your hand still on his chest as he loosely grips your wrist. 

You saw the resolution in his eyes, and you knew there was no chance of convincing Sam to stay. You had a feeling there was more to him than just wanting to up and leave with his brother. 

“Just–” You bit your bottom lip, “Remember to call, okay?” 

“I will.” 

You nodded, and before you could second guess yourself, you pulled Sam into a tight hug. You tucked your face into his neck and tried to commit his scent to memory—the pit in your stomach told you it would be a while until you’d see him again. Sam shoved his face into your hair, tears starting to well up in his eyes at the smell of Jess’s shampoo. You must have used it recently, he thought and was tempted to stop by your apartment when you weren’t there to steal it. 

You pulled away from him, squeezing his hand three times before leaving the room without another word exchanged between the two of you. 

Sam squeezed his eyes shut before scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s for the better, Sam thought. You didn’t need to be pulled into this world, and Sam could not stand the thought of you getting hurt if you knew about what actually lurks in the dark. 

“She was hot.” Dean stated, breaking the silence after you had left the room.

“Fuck off.” Sam practically snarled as he glared at Dean—the despair he was feeling quickly turned into fury. Sam did not want to hear Dean objectify his ex-partner now or ever.  

Dean just put his hands up in surrender, unaccustomed to the type of fury that was behind Sam’s gaze. 

Sam was brought back to the present when you finally tore your eyes away from your page and met his. Confusion filled your gaze before it bled into recognition as Sam saw your eyes flick up and down his figure, and he found he did the same to you. 

You looked beautiful. You grew even more into your features, but your eyes still held the same spark that Sam could recognize from a mile away. A slight smile grew on your face as you waved him over and gestured to the empty seat in front of you. 

“Black coffee for Sam!” A voice exclaimed into the cafe. 

Sam looked sheepish as he pointed at the pickup area for his drink. You nodded and gave him a thumbs-up in response.  

Once Sam picked up his drink, he felt the world slow down with each step he took towards you. His heart rate picked up as he neared your table. The sun shined through the bay windows, illuminating your features and giving you an almost ethereal glow to your skin. 

Sam set down his coffee on the table before sitting down in front of you. “Hey.” He breathed out, nerves crawling throughout his skin. 

You smiled at him. “Hi Sam. It’s been a while.” 

An awkward smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah, it has.” 

“What brings you to Seattle?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Your journal was closed as you rested your head on your hand, looking at him intently. 

Sam tried not to squirm under your gaze. “Just visiting for a couple of days.” 

You nodded. A silence settled between the two of you. You took a sip of your lukewarm drink that was sitting idle right next to your laptop. 

It felt surreal to Sam, sitting right in front of you after all of these years. Sam's eyes were drawn to your hands that were wrapped around your cup—instinctively looking at your left hand. A weight he didn’t know he had lifted from his chest at the fact that your left hand was bare, but the thought that you could still have someone waiting for you made Sam feel strange. He knows that he has no claim over you, not after leaving Stanford the way that he did. 

Sam was looking at you so intently that he missed the fact you were speaking to him. He blinked once, seeing the amused smirk on your face—it was all too familiar, that smile. It was the same one you would get before teasing him. 

“Sorry I didn’t catch that.” He said with a sheepish smile on his lips. 

“I could tell,” You let out a small chuckle. “But I was asking if you wanted to go to this museum nearby? It’s like a ten minute walk from here.”

Sam nodded before grimacing slightly. “It’s not the Pop Culture museum is it?”  

You shook your head. “No. It’s a regular art museum. Although, I am tempted to take you to it now.” 

Sam let out a small laugh. “Please don’t. It’s the only time where I’m not stuck to Dean’s side for the day.” 

“You’re here with your brother?” You were a little surprised to hear that he was still traveling around with his brother. 

“Yeah, he has the car so I’ve been walking around today.” 

“I could’ve guessed that myself. Do you want to go to the museum or do you have other obligations right now?” You asked, starting to pack up your things. 

“I’ll go.” Sam said with a small smile. “The only thing on my agenda today was to walk around the city aimlessly.” 

“Well, let me lead the way for you.” You had finished packing your stuff up, and Sam got up from his seat at the same time you did. You led him out of the cafe where the two of you were and toward the museum. 

The two of you made small talk along the way, making the walk feel much shorter than it actually was, and once you were in the museum, the two of you barely talked. You guys walked through each exhibit in pleasant silence—re-familiarizing yourselves with each other's presence as hands brushed against each other in soft caresses as you walked or stared at each piece of artwork the two of you admired. 

While neither you nor Sam said this thought aloud, but both of you thought this was nice, reconnecting with each other—but silently wishing that you were with each other after all this time, that even though there was a missing piece in Jess, you and Sam still fit together all the same. 

After you and Sam made your way through all of the exhibits, the two of you shared a quick lunch at the diner across the street from the museum, chatting with each other quietly over your food. You guys spent a lot of time talking after your food was done, but you wanted to take him to the waterfront before the sunset. So you did, and the two of you sat on a bench, looking out into the calm waters. 

Sam tore his gaze away from the sight in front of him and looked at you instead. The orange hues of the slowly setting sun were reflecting in your eyes and bathing you in the warm light.  

“You never called.” Your calm tone broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You looked away from the waters to find a forlorn expression etched into Sam’s features. You stared at him for a second. He looked…tired. His shoulders were sagging like there was a weight tugging at them, and his hazel gaze told you that though the weight was seemingly invisible—it clearly affected him in more ways than one. 

“I’m sorry about everything. For Jess’s death, for leaving…” Sam trailed off, looking away from you and closing his eyes shut. For potentially putting you in danger, for starting the apocalypse, the list went on and on for Sam. 

You grabbed the hand that was closest to you, making his eyes open, and looked at you. “Look, I’ll be honest, I was mad at you for the longest time about how you left. How you didn’t bother going to her funeral and how you didn’t call. But I don’t blame you for leaving now. You were just coping with it differently.” 

Sam pursed his lips. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Besides, I can’t take credit for those last bits. That was mostly my therapist’s advice.” You couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at the edges of your lips. 

Sam mirrored your smirk. “They seem like a smart person.” 

“She is, and well, I pay her a lot to hear about my issues.” 

Sam shook his head with a growing smile. Your sense of humor hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw you. 

“Jess’s death wasn’t an accident.” Sam blurted out, making both of your smiles fade at his words. 

You looked away from Sam, squeezing his hand. “I had a feeling, but I could never prove that it was.” 

You looked back at Sam, and while the look in his eye said everything to you, he knew what had happened that night. 

Sam took a deep breath and explained everything. From his childhood to what happened when his brother broke into his apartment to what happened to Jess, he summarized how crazy his life had been until today. Sam had talked so much that the sun was low below the horizon, and the dim lights on the waterfront illuminated your surroundings. You listened to him with a rapt gaze, hanging on to his words. 

Sam was afraid that you wouldn’t take him seriously, that he was crazy, and that you would never want to see him again after tonight. When he was finished talking, Sam looked at you finally, anticipating seeing skepticism in your eyes but saw acceptance in them instead. 

“You believe me?” Sam asked after seeing the look in your eyes. 

“I’d have to be crazy not to.” You saw nothing but the truth in Sam’s hazel gaze as he spoke. 

Sam didn’t think before replying. “You are crazy if you do.”

A surprised laugh escaped you. “What does that make you then?” 

“Someone who’s grown up with this kind of stuff so it’s my normal.” 

“Ah.” You nodded. “So crazier than me? You know because you grew up knowing that monsters existed.” 

“Well, when you put it like that…” 

Another laugh left your lips, and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“I can’t believe you actually believe me.” 

You sighed. “Look, I came to terms with Jess’s death a lot more recently than I’d like to admit. But with the whole monster and demon stuff, it makes a whole lot more sense when trying to find closure and people tell you it was a freak accident.” 

Sam nodded in understanding, scooting closer to you on the bench and squeezing your hand. “I still think about her. And you.” 

“Same.” You whispered. “I don’t think there’s a day that I don’t think about the what ifs. How our lives would look if she didn’t die.” You admitted. 

“Same here.” Sam sent you a sad smile filled with understanding. He took his free hand and gently cupped your cheek. 

You couldn’t help but lean into his warmth. Sam’s eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours and resting his forehead on yours, making your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“I missed you.” You whispered in the dwindling space between the two of you. 

“I missed you too.” Sam responded before placing his lips on yours, pulling you into a tender kiss. 

Sam’s lips felt like coming home. God, you had forgotten how the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body every time you kissed Sam. It was intoxicating to feel his lips on yours again. It also had a bittersweet nature to the reunion of your kiss. 

It was unspoken the promise Sam poured into the kiss. Promises of keeping you safe, the promise of the potential of something new with you. It scared him, but as he sunk into the kiss, the feeling of warmth, the one so familiar with home, was with you—and he doesn’t know if he can part ways with you for good. So, he won’t. For the first time in his life, the weight has lifted. Only slightly, but it feels a whole lot bearable to have you here with him. 

You guys pulled apart slowly, breaking the kiss. You guys breathed each other in as your foreheads rested against each other. You opened your mouth to say something, but a stomach growling interrupted you instead. 

Both of you chuckled as you pulled away from each other. You sat up from the bench, Sam’s hands falling away from you as you did. 

You extended a hand out to him. “Come on, I know a few spots around here for dinner.” 

“Lead the way.” Sam said he grabbed your hand and got up from the bench.

Sam let you lead him down the waterfront, continuing from the page that the two of you had left on and into a new story—one with a happier ending. 

[nyc-pizza-rat]

saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

~

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Sugar Daddy!Cooper Howard is sort of a menace when it comes to sneakily getting what he wants. There's a certain level of access you have to the means of getting your way when you're famous and wealthy, so, while he isn't intolerant to being told no, it's not his favorite thing, particularly when he's being prevented from sharing his generosity with you the way he wants to. The fact that you accepting that generosity often happens to come with the added bonus of making you more agreeable to doing what he wants is pure coincidence...if you believe what he says about it.

In particular, he likes to have more than a little say in your wardrobe. He'll fill your entire closet with new clothes just for the excuse to pick out what you wear, right down to the shoes and accessories. He takes your personal style heavily into consideration, so you won't find anything you wouldn't have picked out yourself...save for the occasional piece that shows a bit more leg or cleavage than you'd usually choose (as well as plenty of heels that you will be wearing to bed regardless of whether you ever really wear them out). He can't help himself; it's just so fun to have his own personal doll to dress up. Also loves to drag you out to go "window" shopping, which invariably turns to real shopping, complete with you modeling clothes worth more than you make in a month for him and him trying his best to not drag you back into the dressing room.

Your grocery budget had to be carefully managed before he came along, so you grew quite used to convenience foods and whatever simple dishes were easiest (and cheapest) to prepare. He quickly filled your fridge and pantry with staples when you began to see one another, fretting at you for not eating "real food", but he also knows you sometimes find cooking arduous after a long day. Because of that, he loves to dress you up and take you out to fancy dinners, multi-course, candlelit affairs where he makes you try dishes you've never seen before. When you're too tired to go out, he'll surprise you with takeout, or he'll come to your place and cook for you using ingredients you could never afford on your own. He only really knows how to make a handful of dishes himself, but he's pretty good at them. Plus, the view of him working in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up is quite alluring.

His biggest challenge in getting his way comes in the form of trying to get you into a better living arrangements; he's not a dick, but he's not impressed by your apartment or the area it's in. Pretty rapidly he begins making little "jokes" and remarks about how you should consider letting him move you to a better place. When you tell him you'd already considered moving, but can't really afford to pay any more in rent, he looks at you like you've sprouted a second head. Obviously he would be paying the rent. Don't be silly. You should be saving your own money, or spending it on what you want. When you're skittish at the idea of him paying such a significant bill of yours on top of all of his, he offers to just let you move in with him instead. That better? He could pay to get you out of your lease and have movers at your place within the week...

Don't bother asking him how much anything he gives you costs, as he won't tell you. If you ever manage to figure it out, any complaints will fall on deaf ears. Actually, don't watch his pockets, period; so much of his self-image and sense of masculinity is tied up in being a "proper provider" for his family, so any voiced concerns about how much money he has, even after his personal wealth takes a pretty big hit post-divorce, really dig at him the wrong way. He's open enough about his financials as a committed partner, insofar as you know his bills get paid on time and he isn't living off of debt or anything, so one of the few ways you can get him somewhat reliably annoyed with you is to question if he can afford something, or stress about "your part" of things. Can't you just let him take care of you? You worry too much.

It's just good luck that spoiling you often gets your motor running, ready to cuddle up close and smother him in kisses (or more) out of excitement and gratitude once you become more accustomed to being pampered. He'd never spend money on you just to get you to put out, he insists. But your enthusiasm towards his largesse certainly doesn't hurt anything. Who doesn't feel more affectionate, physically and otherwise, when they're well seen to? There's no shame in enjoying that, (or the fact that he has somewhat lopsided influence over your decisions) he tells himself.

The Ghoul is used to getting his way almost purely through force and intimidation these days, which is great for dealing with Brotherhood agents and raiders and settlers with wild hairs up their asses, but not so great for trying to actually endear himself to anyone. And god, does he want that with you after he meets you. The shock of his attraction to you bowls him over pretty badly, and he has to take quite a while to sit with it before deciding how to proceed.

However, when he opens up the smallest bit and tries to get back in touch with Cooper Howard, ladykiller, he finds that he's humiliatingly rusty and impatient for you to start to open up to him in kind. Unfortunately, he's almost forgotten how to actually treat people decently, so he has to dig himself out of quite the pit from how big of an asshole he's been to you previously, reactively even more unpleasant than usual, intimidated by his feelings.

Eventually, he remembers that spending money on people usually helps and also doesn't require any emotional vulnerability.

You're a bit put off by it at first, thinking he's essentially trying to bribe you into forgetting how awful he's been to you before (and it's true, he is), your walls up high despite still generally accepting his offerings. It's for the best. He gets pissy and pushy if you repeatedly, blatantly refuse his gifts or gestures, which directly counteracts the desired affect of the action to begin with, but hey, he's got a long way to go before he's a ladykiller again...

He can't take you to luxury boutiques and spend all afternoon watching you try things on for him like he'd like, but he can keep a sharp eye out for especially intact clothing when the two of you are rummaging around whatever bombed-out ruins you find yourself in, occasionally pulling only-slightly-faded dresses and delicate slips from the rubble. He carries these little gifts himself so you're not burdened by having to keep track of them. He can also buy you new armor and take in the view as you sit in your undies by the fire or curled up on the floor maintaining it. Incredibly tarnished jewelry is fairly easy to find, depending on where you look, and he has nothing but time to polish and tweak things while you sleep. Who doesn't like a shiny bauble, even if they don't have the same sort of value they once did? One day, he finds an especially nice ring and tucks it away for the future, only pulling it out to fiddle with when he's sure he's alone. You never know what may happen.

Nice restaurants are exceedingly rare anymore, basically extinct (and most of the ones that do exist don't allow ghouls, not that he would feel he belonged in a place like that, anyway), but he can still spare you the ass jerky and buy you the best quality food he can get his hands on: fresh, un-disesased brahmin meat (a shockingly rare and pricey grocery item in the post-war world and one of the more desirable sources of animal protein), relatively radiation-free vegetables, the sweetest, juiciest fruits. It makes him happy to know that you're getting adequate nutrition, and he more than enjoys getting to watch you eat what he gives you. This is especially true of anything sticky or juicy; he'll blatantly withhold these things until he can sit and properly take in the show, his gaze rather blatantly revealing his thoughts.

Instead of making you sleep on the bare desert ground, or huddle around a tiny fire in whatever shack he's chosen to rest in for the night, he'll often shell out for a room when the option presents itself, especially so if the place has access to water. A lot of the time he has to give you the caps and send you inside to pay for the room yourself, as many places won't rent to ghouls. It's far from how he'd prefer to do things, but he considers the indignity he suffers a small price to pay to see you so carefree for a bit. Sometimes you'll even wear one of the dresses he's scrounged up for you when the mood is right. He's not surprised by it; he knows how much you like to feel clean, how happy it makes you, and the relaxation granted from staying somewhere safe is unparalleled. The fact that he gets to peek in on you bathing when he comes around to "check on you" is icing on the cake. Eventually, you start to give him intentional little peeks at your body when he does, and the physical relationship between you really starts to bloom from that point on.

Initially, he uses gifts and generous gestures to get you to see that he might not be a complete monster, though he has trouble adjusting his other behaviors as quickly as he adjusts his spending habits. Overall, gifts from him are much less a "let me grease the wheels for the future so I can ultimately get what I want" sort of thing and more of a "I'm sorry for how I am, I hope overcompensating in other areas fixes it" sort of thing. He's more than willing to put in the hard, painful work that he knows he needs to be better on other levels, though he's agonizingly aware that the progress on that front is slow. Don't question his commitment to changing for the better for you, however.

He really wants to give you that ring.

[muffinsin]

Hi! I discovered your page recently and have been in LOVEEE with it ever since. It says your inbox is open, but getting full so i hope requesting something right now is okay! I was just wondering if you could do a dimitrescu sisters × teen sister reader? the reader is human and I think it would be cool to see how the sisters react and treat her (I think they would be really gentle because they're scared of scaring/hurting her) ty so much! <3 (I love your prompts)

Awhhh, this is such a cute, wholesome prompt! And funnily enough, I don’t think I’ve ever written HCs about a teen sister!🙌 I’m happy to hear ya like my prompts, hon :)

Let’s get into it🙌🥳

Masterlists

Bela

Bela is, by now, utterly used to her role as the eldest sister

And while she does consider and call Cassandra and Daniela her “little sisters”, they’re really not all that different as it comes to their ages

A difference of mere hours, really, biologically speaking

When she was a newborn fly spawn, they were newborn fly spawns

When she was a toddler, they were toddlers

When she was a teen, they were teens

When she turned into a (-responsible) adult, they did. Biologically speaking, of course. She’s certain especially Daniela hasn’t made it all the way there, at times

But, all in all, she’s very similar to her sisters as it comes to age, despite being the eldest and their older sister

And then, there’s you…

A new sibling, a new sister

A little sister

But…a real, far younger sister

A teen

A teen, whereas she has lived for centuries

Bela has been fond of you from the start. Sure, she wasn’t originally happy about getting another sister, but the moment she laid eyes on you and got to know you, she started to love you just as she loves and treasures and protects her sisters

At first, it’s very difficult for her to act as a sister, truthfully, rather than a mother

You’re just so…young, compared to her! It’s difficult for her not to get overly maternal, as she sometimes still tends to get with your older sisters

Bela tries to understand you, and your interests

That doesn’t mean she’s good at it, though. She doesn’t care much for things she deems a waste of time, and is hardly a troublemaker. This alone has her stray from anything that could be considered rebellious

She also has difficulty not telling on you to your mother when you do something, or to take matters into her own hands and scolds you

Technically, you know she’s supposed to do this, being the eldest and all

Still, it’s sometimes a little difficult for the two of you to connect

Especially with how unreachable Bela seems at times; so intelligent, such good manners. Loved or respected by nearly everyone despite her nature, purely because of how she presents herself

Mother’s heiress…

She seems so impossibly strong, in her own way. Of course, you partly look up to her. But it’s difficult to see yourself on the same level as her

Sometimes, you’re sure because of all this she must be Mother’s favorite, and it occasionally nabs at you, how you have no chance of getting to where she is

But, she loves you dearly, and you love her

She will always comfort and guide you, even help you grow

She’s your protector, in a way, helping you always

Especially when feelings get the better of you. She reassures you often; it’s okay to feel this and that, and that it’s perfectly normal to feel certain things at your age

She also puts you in your place when you’re in the wrong, though, gently telling you and ensuring you know: she still loves you after

And, actually, you find Bela gives amazing hugs, and while she isn’t the sister to hug without asking what’s wrong, you find comfort in that, too

Out of all of your sisters Bela is best at controlling her strenght

Which, sometimes, is a little unfortunate because she’s also the sister that refuses to wrestle with you for fun. Apparently, she doesn’t “see the point” in that

At least she feels utterly comfortable hugging you, knowing that she won’t hurt you

She would never hurt you

Cassandra

The first time she heard of having a sister, she was thrilled!

And when she met you the first time, the two of you got along instantly

Cassandra feels much less unreachable than her older sister

Much more- approachable

She’s sadistic, has a short temper- much like your mother, at times- and rough

But you love her, and she loves and treasures you

She’s the first to take you out on a hunt to the forest, is the one to teach you to fight and keep yourself safe

While she has a little more difficulty controlling her strength at times and therefore occasionally keeps her distance, she has never hurt you

Cassandra is, in her own way, a role model to you

She’s fierce and powerful

She easily takes down her prey and entertains you with her stories of her hunts and previous victims

She teaches you to be strong, teaches you what it means to be a Dimitrescu. And even when you can’t be strong, she’s strong for you, easily putting others in their place with a mere glance their way

Cassandra and you spend a lot of time together, and she’s genuinely interested in most you have to say

By now you know, she will not care for gossip or anything like that. The wrong sister for that, certainly. And you know, she won’t even bother pretending to listen to that

But, she’ll listen to all you’re genuinely passionate about, perhaps even participate if it’s for her

She encourages you to follow your hobbies and make the most of them

Like with her sisters, after all, Alcina allows you to choose at least one hobby and fully supports it. She will not stand for any of her daughters not pursuing anything, however

When you have difficulty choosing what could be fit for you, Cassandra is eager to help out

She shows you this and that, and is eager to try most new things with you

Cassandra is also the sister to turn to when you want to know what they and your mother were like a few centuries ago

The fun stuff, that is

She’ll tell you every detail she so easily remembers, occasionally also brag about things she did particularly well

Often, she’ll sprinkle in a few details you’re sure aren’t quite that true, but you don’t mind

You find, she also inspires you to be creative like that!

Speaking of little half truths here and there, Cassandra is the first to teach you how to lie and get away with it at the castle

Now, of course you’ve lied plenty times already in your life

But with Alcina, it seems impossible. Like she fully knows when you’re not being entirely honest

Even Bela seems to know, somehow, sometimes!

It’s infuriating, but Cassandra is quick to teach you

In return, she becomes about the only sister you are always truthful to

You never feel the need to lie to her, even when you’re planning on doing something stupid or risky

Often enough she’ll join in, or cover for you at least

When she does tell you not to do something, which is rare, you listen

You know, she means well, and doesn’t underestimate you or whatever you’re about to do

You value her opinion, and when she says not to do something, she tends to be right

Daniela

Daniela finds you utterly adorable, as she calls you

She doesn’t quite remember her “teen” years, really

But that’s okay

She’s every bit as playful and still has a bit of a habit to get herself into trouble, much like you do, occasionally

She likes to join you when you’re about to do something risky, and at times even is the one proposing it and whining to you about joining her

Of course, she will always keep you safe during those times

Though your mother is unhappy to say at the least when she catches you, her youngest, covered in dirt and blood from head to toe after your sister insisted throwing guts like snowballs is a blast!

In many ways, Daniela doesn’t quite feel like an older sister

She’s playful, a little immature, teasing, socially intelligent, and quite handsy with the maidens. She’s a little clingy and delusional, but always has your best interests at heart, the same as your other sisters

She always has some gossip to talk to you about, rambling about this and that she picked up while lounging and swarming about in the castle

She loves to read, and loves to share her favorite books with you

Unlike her sisters, she isn’t overly picky with her interests, either

She isn’t into mathematics or science. Aside from that, she’ll happily learn about all you’re interested in

She’ll participate in your hobbies, or lounge on your bed like a lazy cat while you ramble about your hobbies and fixations

She doesn’t mind at all. She loves to learn about new things, and remembers surprisingly much you tell her despite her short term memory span

Often, she remembers even more of your stories and ramblings than your other sisters do, as she’s genuinely interested in your hobbies, even when she has no clue about them

Daniela, in a way, feels like a best friend rather than a sister

She’s always there for you, will always protect and teach you. She’s silly, playful, will never say no to some good fun and often even convince you to “play” with the maidens or her sisters, seeing how much the two of you can annoy them until they notice

She teaches you to be strong too, yes, but perhaps even more so, Daniela has a way of teaching you how to get along with people

How to blend in with them, how to lure information from others by casually being around them

No, not by using some reverse psychology and what not like Bela. By listening. By being friendly. By making them ramble on their own

She teaches you to make friends, even with the reputation of your family, and how to effortlessly start conversations

And even when you can’t make a friend, she reminds you that you will always have your family

She teaches you, of course, also how to get what you want from Alcina

Generally, Alcina has a hard time saying no to any of her daughters. You’re all so precious to her, and there’s rarely a time she’ll deny a wish coming from one of you

Daniela, having been in the role of the youngest for the longest time and still having her sweet, pouty puppy eyes ready, teaches you how to get just about anything you want from your mother

Whether it’s clothing or toys (often in Daniela’s case those are servants), treats or anything from the outside world, she teaches you to properly ask for it

And yet; she has the hardest time controlling her strenght

She loves physical touch as a means to show her affection. She loves to hug her sisters even when they try to peel her away from them, acting all annoyed when they really aren’t, and she loves to wrap her arms around Alcina’s waist, hugging her whenever she can in exchange for some heat pats and scratches

With you, she must actively hold back

You’re…fragile

You’re human

You’re her little sister

She would never want to hurt you!

But, she can’t help it sometimes, and feels horrible when she hugs you and is just a tad bit too excited, causing her arms around you to be a little too tight

She always takes care of you after, her eyes wide and wet as she blinks away tears, feeling so utterly guilty for hurting you

You always reassure her; it’s not her fault

You still love her

She’s still your older sister

You still admire and look up to her

And it’s all it takes to have her smile widely again

[profoundbondfanfic]

Any destiel amnesia au fic recs to soothe my gentle heart, I read one au called two worlds apart and as much fun it was I'm also heartbroken 😭 and I want to fix it with another amnesia au where they are both are very much alive in the end, also maybe with a dash of fluff and tension?

Here are a few recs with fluff and a happy ending!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise by stuffy_j (Explicit, 54k words)

Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process. But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 39k words)

When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

Paper Moon by robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k words)

By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true. It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.

The Same Mistake, Again by zaphodsgirl (Mature, 43k words)

One night, after watching Dean pick up yet another girl while they're out at a bar, Cas heads to the local diner. Over the years his feelings of attraction have only deepened into something more, and he wishes desperately to go back to the time before he was in love with his best friend. His wish is granted in an unexpected way: he wakes up in the hospital the next morning with broken limbs - an arm and a leg- and a fractured memory with the last four years missing.

The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)

Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (Explicit, 54k words)

Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart by thefandomsinhalor (Mature, 68k words)

When a reporter asks Dean, a homeless man with a mysterious past, why he exclusively keeps close to the billboards and posters of a specific male model—the one Dean likes to refer to as the angel with spectacular blue eyes—in a moment of weakness, thinking it won’t change anything about his situation, Dean tells him the truth: it’s how he finds comfort and solace. Something that is difficult to come by. That is until the story reaches the ears of Castiel Novak, the model in question.

Whiskey & November by dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 188k words)

There is a place in L.A. where the richest of the rich can make their dreams come true. For an outrageous sum, they can hire an “angel” who is programmed to be exactly what they need: a stripper, a scientist, a temporary boyfriend. Most people don’t choose to question who the angels are, or where they came from. Sam Winchester is not most people. His brother Dean went missing in L.A. two years ago, and Sam has spent all that time trying to track him down. The trail leads him to a shadowy organization known as “Heaven” that coerces people into giving up their identities and personalities so they can be reprogrammed for Heaven’s purposes. Inside Heaven, trouble is brewing: two of the angels, Whiskey and November, are beginning to break through their programming. As they fall for each other and fight to remember who they are, they discover that they have an ally already working to bring down Heaven from within.

Not really amnesia, but they think they have it:

Found Family by Dizzybunny (Explicit, 55k words)

When Alpha Captain Castiel Novak returns to the US after being rescued from three years of captivity, he is amazed to find a family he doesn’t remember living in his house. Not just any family - his omega husband and pups. Dean had been told Castiel was MIA, and probably dead. Living in Castiel’s old house, raising his own and Castiel’s pups as a single father had been difficult, but he managed. Now Castiel is back. Can he fit into the life Dean has made? Can Dean adjust to having an alpha? Does Castiel want a husband he can’t remember?

White Lies & Winter Blues by PaperAnn (Explicit, 37k words)

When Castiel drives by a car wreck, he should’ve heeded the warning, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ He’s a nurse, it’s a record-breaking, cruel winter, and upon seeing the driver hypothermic and near-death—his instincts kick in. Cas doesn't think, he jumps into action to save the omega. Once the ambulance arrives, Castiel joins the ride. Then in the hospital room, he keeps a watchful eye over the omega's treatment and care. All under the guise of being ‘his alpha.’ Castiel’s plan was innocent, wishing for a quick recovery, followed by quicker exit. Except, he misses his shot. The omega awakes and the nurse beats Cas to the punch, with the declaration, “You’re lucky your mate found you in time!” causing all hell to break loose. There are no questions. A starry-eyed and love-struck Dean Winchester automatically believes the accident caused amnesia, that Cas is his mate. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now entangled in his own lies—still reeling from the unexpected discovery they’re true mates—Cas feels helpless. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do! Besides...playing along. Paving his road to hell, one good intention at a time.

[thesassypadawan]

Santa Tell Me (A.J. x Button!Reader)

Summary:  It’s Christmas Eve and you except your boyfriend of year to pop the question…again.  However, before he can…you surprise him with a special gift of your own.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the fluff with a bit of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), misuse of a jolly old elf’s hat, size diff, ho ho hoe lingerie, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track seven of my special holiday mix, Santa Tell Me! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas, @everydaydreamer! And thank you for making the perfect pic for this! 🎅)

- ‘Santa, tell me if you're really there…  Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…’

- One big hand comes to settle on your hip, squeezing gently.  The other taking your smaller one, lazily lacing and intertwining your fingers together.  Swaying you both slowly back and forth to the familiar, festive music.  Blue eyes locked with yours in the mirror’s reflection; gaze warm, affectionate…loving.

- “Look absolutely flawless, doll,” he mutters.  Voice low and gravelly, rumbling deep in his chest…through your petite frame.  Goosebumps forming on your skin…and not from the nonexistent chill in the air.  “Gorgeous like always, ‘cept it’s missin’ one thing.”

- You knew all too well where the conversation was going.  In the short year you two have been an item, you’ve heard it at least a dozen or so times.  The same sweet, endearing request; accompanied by the same little, velvet box.  That he seems to make appear out of nowhere, just like…

- “Oh, baby,” you sigh, hint of sadness in your words.  Watching A.J. pull it out from his vest pocket, fiddle and roll it with his long digits.  “I know you want to marry me bad, but…”

- Words fall short when he pops the lid open.  Revealing not a ring.  Instead what was easily the most beautiful, breathtaking opal necklace you’ve ever seen.

- “I know, I know…‘we’ll see’,” he chuckles.  Repeating your usual response, while helping you put it on.  Calloused fingertips brushing, lingering for an extra moment or two on the nape of your neck.  “Someday though, it’s gonna be…‘yes’.”

- Slight smile pulling at the corners of your pink tinted lips.  As you admire the way it sparkles in the twinkling light, the fact he remembered the significance of this stone.  At the amount of faith, patience he has in and when it comes to you.  Plus a few other things.  “Yeah…we’ll see.”

- Shrugging, leaning down he places a tender kiss on your cheek…the top of your head.  “Come on, we better get goin’.”  Before straightening up once more, giving a quick tap to your perfect bottom.  “Don’t wanna be too late to the party.”

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

- All evening long, you’re very much an inseparable pair.  Never one without the other, practically glued together at the hip. 

- With you holding onto, pressing into his side.  Peppermint swirled nails occasionally trailing up his spine, gently scratching a certain spot between his shoulder blades.  That has him grunting softly in appreciation…those lean muscles contorting, relaxing beneath your welcomed touch.

- As for him, well…  Hardly a minute passes when he doesn't have an arm wrapped around your waist or a palm resting on the small of your back.  Fingers rubbing, massaging.  Sometimes traveling a bit lower, under the hem of your cocktail dress when he thinks no one is looking…drawing out a tiny, muffled squeak from you each time.

- But on the rare instance when you weren’t attached to your better half.  You could be spotted with the rest of the ladies.  Mingling, being asked, more like grilled, on whether you finally caved…finally gave him the answer he wants to hear and officially join their patchwork family. 

- “We’ll see,” you would reply simply and politely.  Smiling coyly over the rim of your glass, at his turned back from across the room.  Watching as he folded another hand in the guys’ silly card game.  Listening to him echo your own words, undoubtedly given the same question.

- All in all, he whole night went by in what feels like a blur.  Of hearty laughs, variety of decadent treats, one too many cups of good cheer…a few stolen kisses below the mistletoe.  And, soon enough, you find yourself tugging on A.J.’s hand.  Bring him level, whispering in his ear for you to be whisked home.  Where the real party could begin, the best part yet to come…his last gift.

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

- Crashing through the front door, nearly chipping the paint and knocking a picture off the wall.  Tongues tangled, lips meshed together in perfect harmony.  With your digits unabashedly pulling at his belt, fumbling for his fly.  And his slipping beneath the folds of your skirt; seeking out that string of mysterious, elusive lace felt during his earlier escapades.

- “Don’t be stingy, sweetheart,” he murmurs between heated kisses.  Hand inching ever higher, palm cupping and kneading a sweet cheek.  “It’s already after midnight.”  Thumb nonchalantly hooking, fiddling with the delicate fabric teasingly…letting it snap.  “Wanna open my present.”

- Jumping slightly, a squeal mixed with an excited giggle bubble up from your throat.  “Mmmh, all right.”   All the while rubbing, massaging that delectable bulge; enticing it to grow, strain the front of his trousers.  “Since you’ve been such a good boy this year.”  Giving it one last gentle squeeze, earning one more grunt.  Before…

- Gone for only a hot minute or two, you return to find him lounging naked on the couch.  Arms draped over the back lazily, long legs spread casually.  Santa hat perched perfectly, barely covering his candy cane and sack of goodies.  “That’s certainly a look, J.”

- Smirking, rising to his feet.  He keeps the jolly old elf’s cap securely in place as he saunters over, comes to meet you in front of the panoramic window.  Fingertips tangling, playing with the ribbon wound and tied perfectly around…  “Says the woman wearin’ paper like a dress.”

- Anticipating the inevitable sassy quip that would undoubtedly come, he acts quickly and smoothly.  “Not that I’m complain’.”  Bending, burying his face into the crook of your neck.  Lavishing your sugar cookie scented skin in love bites and nips.  “Or grateful.”

-As he tears away, takes his time. Savoring, slowly and carefully unwrapping.  “Musta been real good.”  Revealing the sexy, little ho-ho-hoe number that lay beneath.  “To deserve somethin’ this sweet…”

- Skillfully and in a single, fluid motion.  A.J. whirls, twirls you to the music that plays softly in the background.  “…exquisite…”  Pushing you against the cool glass.  Pinning and holding, encompassing you completely with his larger frame. Stocking hat left forgotten on the floor, laying amongst the shreds of discarded paper.  “…wonderful like ya.”

- Eyes hungrily sweep and take in your red, tulle clad form.  Meeting, locking with yours in the reflective surface.  “Now, on them tip-toes, baby doll…”  Palm smoothing down your semi- clothed back, following the intricate details and patterns of the bustier.  Settling on your hip, tugging on it a bit too roughly.  “…lemme try out my new toy.”

- Eagerly you ease, precariously balance on them.  Sparks of anticipation bursting, bemused smile crossing your face.  Watching him still have to slouch, crouch slightly.  To align himself with your aching entrance.  “Sure you’re not too big for this one?”

- Laying tender, adoring kisses along your spine.  His free hand finds, gropes a pert breast.  “Nah, not too big.”  Thumb swirls, fingertips rolls and pinches your pebbled bud.  Fat tip prods, teases at your soaked folds core.  “Always liked my playthings to be a little on the small…”  Surging forward, steadily stretching.  Forcing your tight cunny to open with his thick cock.  “Fuck…side.”

- Moaning, whimpering…nails scramble, scratch lightly.  Palms flatten, brace against the steamed-up glass.  While he thrusts, pounds into you unbridled and wild.  Toned chest pressed to, resting his full weight onto you.  A.J. looms above, grunting and groaning in your ear each time he bottoms out.  Increasing his pace with every powerful drive.

- “So…shit…”  Bullying and hitting, bruising your cervix over and over.  “Lemme get…”  The heat rises, pools in the pit of your stomach.  “Lemme get this straight…”  Peak approaching swiftly, gummy walls fluttering and burning.  “You’ll become the Clause Man’s wife before m-mine?”

- Body tenses, goes ridged.  Starts to shake from all the overwhelming pleasure that courses through.  “Who…who said that wasn’t you…”  You can feel him twitching and throbbing.  Shuddering as he draws closer to his own release, mind-numbing orgasm.  “That you’re not San-San…”

- Slamming hard, you both cry out in bliss.  You clamping and clenching, gushing all over him.  While he paints your insides a sticky, snowy white; stuffing your little stocking nice and full.

- Panting, knees shaking.  He helps you back down onto your feet.  Immediately wrapping, swallowing up your unsteady form in his strong arms.  Laughing happily and joyfully.  Peppering the top of your crown in frantic, loving kisses.  All because you finally agreed.  Said the one thing he’s been waiting to hear since he first presented you with that little, velvet box.  “Then I guess ya better call me Santa… Mrs. Clause.”

- Bursting out into a fit of giggles, sporting an elated grin.  You tilt your head back, teasing playfully…finally getting in a smart remark.  “So, Santa…tell me what else you want?”

- “Yeah, actually.”  Mirroring your smile, he starts to lazily rock…buck and rut again.  “I could think of one thing or two.  Maybe even three.” 

- Santa, tell me if he really cares…  'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @erosmutt, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj

[shallowseeker]

My favorite thing is when Dean gets mad at Cas for doing the same things Dean does RIGHT AFTER DEAN DOES THEM.

I'm not even being facetious. I love it.

12x09:

DEAN: *plans to sacrifice himself; calls Cas on the phone and tells him GET HERE but mentions nothing else about said death deal*

LATER: DEAN & CAS find each other in the nick of time and ride in the back seat together. DEAN stares longingfully at CAS with big sad eyes (but still says nothing about the deal)

CAS: *puts himself in danger to stop said deal from coming to fruition and harming any of them* ... DEAN: *spends the whole next episode being irrationally angry at CAS for putting himself in danger*

SPECIAL NOTE: Dean's not seen to be laying into Mary*** for putting a gun to her own head. No, he's mad at CAS specifically.

It's setup as a bit of a fun in-joke the VERY next episode. These two very similar actions are set up as DIRECT CONTRASTS TO ONE ANOTHER.

We know Dean's not giving her the silent treatment, at least, because...

"You hear from mom yet?"

VS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"You talk to Cas yet?"

It's hilarious, because Dean's reactions to Cas tend to be wonderfully disproportionate and emotionally charged.

////Spec, but I suspect that if the roles were reversed, and Cas DIDN'T tell Dean ON THE PHONE about the Billie deal RIGHT THEN, Dean might’ve held it against him for not telling him the Truth (TM)… for a little while anyways.

(But ultimately, Dean gets it... because he gets wanting to keep loved ones out of harm's way. After all, after an initial mini-explosion, Dean was very sympathetic to Cas in 12x19, even after Cas lied AND took the Colt.)

But here's... the thing. In 12x10, it was READING as anger. Fear-anger. Franger, if you will.

Dean's fear sometimes reads as anger, just like Cas's fear sometimes reads as a lack of trust. Both tendencies can blown up in their faces and lead to snap decisions.

But! Their actions are very very very much rooted in love-fear. Cas understands that Dean has low self-worth, and though Cas may get desperate and angry about Dean making "a stupid deal," he totally gets it, too... because he's pretty much the same.

But yeah, as for Dean, his initial reactions and grudges about things like this tend to be much more emotionally volatile, so they narratively FEEL very big. He gives Cas the silent treatment about cosmic consequences, but won't look too hard at the hypocrisy of putting his own life in jeopardy. (Pot-kettle.)

Messy, messy, messy.

SPECIAL NOTE #2: This season, Mary and Cas are twinned by this trauma of losing Dean and Sam, and, in a thematic echo, it drives them both to try and take Dean and Sam out of the equation because they can't bear the though of losing them. Mary pivots to BMoL because she wants big-family-manpower... and, very importantly, she doesn't care if the BmoL die. Likewise, after 12x09 and 12x13, Cas freaks out and pivots to working with Heaven. (I really need to write the Mary mate to this someday; it's so crunchy!)

Even Dean verbalizes something similar when he sneakily takes Ketch* with him to Apocalypse World in place of Sam and Cas in 13x17-19: because, in his own words, he “doesn't care if Ketch dies.”

Dean's headspace from script 13x19 via @spnscripthunt-inactive

ALL of these above instances are inflamed by recent losses and feelings of powerlessness, but I don’t view this specific behavior of needing to shield loved ones and "keep them out of it" as unique to angel wiring by any means, even when that involves lies of omission.

Lies by omission in Supernatural are primarily driven by (1) protecting perceived innocents (2) protecting loves ones because you're horrified at the thought of losing them or (3) avoiding the great big painful emotions that telling them The Things will dredge up.

Extra credit for (4) You're putting yourself in danger and playing loose with not only your own but also potentially the whole world's safety.

///

BONUS EXAMPLE: Not wanting to face the big scary Emotions

14x12

& ofc

[princesserica84]

Howdy, let me start off with no hate for you just here trying to help clear up a few things it seems from your post you dont know which is normal since you no a US citizen. again just trying to help you understand not an attack just trying help. 1 on the whole nazi wave https://www.tumblr.com/busterballsblog/773398848248987648?source=share also post is not the full clip here https://youtu.be/5e5Dz2EvuOY?si=NPvB0sq5Qjk2NHDK these should help you better see the whole story and facts. 2 UK, CA, GR,FR all have hate speech as a legal thing in the USA its already been ruled by highest court and even liberal judges agreed no such thing as hate speech in this USA. where each of the nations i listed have jailed people based on their words some where even jokes on stage. but in USA we have the right to say anything but a DIRECT call to action. but just as we each have the right of free speech means all sides have a voice to say as they wish. something that very different our rights listed out in black and white cant be taken away by government for any reason where yours and UK, FR and GR can and have been in name of "Greater Good". in USA its about the 1 not the Greater Good when it comes to rights. 3 on whole trans topic here the the issue its illegal to force someone to talk a set way in the usa. just as your name is Erica you cant force people to call you that they can say HEY YOU or they can call you E all they want and no law is broken in the USA. next part of this is wanting tax payers to fund trans medical issues that are not life threatening is not our way not because they trans but because they have no right to my money. also their proof this has been forced on kids ie people under 18 which is in fact grounds to remove and sue a teacher for forcing their views on kids at school. 4 you clearly listen to USA media well do you know that ABC , NBC, CNN , MSNBC all paid out 100s of millions of dollars in just 3 lawsuits for openly lied about the story and people in it. ABC even had pay Trump 15 million for a lie they told about Trump. so frankly trusting them is not really an option even for liberals have had to admit they wrong. 5 you bring up removing of rights https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/bill-of-rights-transcript please take a look at our rights and can you link abortions to any right you see listed. ( i am assuming this is right you talking about due to your words. mind you while your looking at our rights look at 2A and then notice how liberals seek to remove rights on guns. i use this as example of how the very view that the right seeks to take away rights is not based in any logic and in fact the left is seeking to remove a right openly. again i hope this helps you understand our system in a fair and balanced way. btw i been from quebec to toronto i will say being that im Texan i understand qubec people the best in CA i have a number of pals up their and yea. to give you idea why people like me love your snow is my city just got 3 inches of snow that all the snow we gotten since 2018 and my summers are 110 F or in the 40s C in the shade with 100% humidity. anyway hope this helps you understand better again no hate just trying to help and i will leave you with how Texans see the rest of north America LOL hope you enjoy the fun joke again no hate just trying help you smile. and if you have any question here or DM me is fine just trying share some help.

^^ I give you, the American education system

Look, I disagree with everything you are saying.

If you want to talk about taking rights away, I'll give you this. A lot of pregnant women have died recently because the hospitals are not able to perform abortions. Today, there was a school shooting in Nashville that killed a 17 year old and injured another. If abortions were legal, and you have gun laws in place that weren't written in the 17th century, many people would still be alive. This isn't opinion, this is fact.

Deaths in Canada caused by guns in 2023: less than 300

Deaths in USA caused by guns in 2023: over 43,000

There's honestly too much wrong with your entire message. I don't think I'm the right person to respond so I will leave it to everyone else.

Also, just so you are aware, your "map" did not make me laugh. It offends me. Canada is my home and I would much rather live here (with free healthcare, gun laws that weren't written over 200 years ago, the right for me to make a decision on my own body, and a place where my transgender friends are free to be who they are) than live in fucking texas.

[delulu4dean]

“A Game Of Angels & Devils”

Warnings: Smut, it’s smut, pure smut. Swearing and maybe some violence but mainly smut

Pairings: Demon!Dean x female angel!reader

Summary: Dean is a demon, and he’s loose in the bunker with Castiel’s angels sister.

Word Count: 1,781

Castiel always had a rough relationship with the other angels, you were the only one he really saw as a sibling. You always stood by him no matter what, so when he asked you to help with Dean, his best friend, you jumped at the chance. But Dean was also a legend, to heaven and hell. And now that he’s a demon, you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t wait to meet him, you couldn’t wait to see what he was capable of.

Castiel and Sam were out of the bunker while Dean was trapped in a chair, the same one previously used to hold Crowley. You were left alone with Dean. Castiel had other things to deal, and Sam went off to get groceries. Nobody anticipated that the attempt to cure Dean would turn out this way.

The cure of course, is human blood. But unfortunately Dean had just enough human in him to escape, and enough demon in him to come for your ass. And when you saw he’d escape, you were terrified. After everything that happened with the angels and heaven, you knew you couldn’t stand a chance against Dean Winchester.

So here you are now, walking down the halls, as Dean’s voice booms through the bunker, “Y/N! I’m coming for you!” Your steps are quiet as to not draw any attention while you look for a place to hide. The only place you can think of is under a bed, and the bed happens to be in Dean’s room. You try to quiet your breathing down, covering your mouth. You know you’d have to keep Dean from escaping but right now he’s after one thing: you. Dean didn’t like angels much before, except for Cas. All other angels were dicks. Dean being a demon means all that hatred is on another level.

“Come on Y/N, I just want to have some fun. Let’s play a game!” his voice sends shivers down your spine. You know he’s going to hunt you down and he’s not quitting any time soon. Of course you wanted to see what he was capable of but not with him roaming

The clicking of his boots on the bunker floor get louder as he gets closer. You see him entering the room, walking closer to his bed. You hold your breath, scared to what he would do. And then he crouches, and you see him looking right into your eyes.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, as he grabs your shoulders and pulls you out from under the bed.

“There you are, princess. I was beginning to think you were hiding from me,” he taunts you. His smirk is playful but his eyes are determined.

“You got me, what now, Dean?” you look up at your brother’s best friend. You keep your voice steady and refuse to let Dean see the fear in your eyes.

“I can torture you, use you to get what I want out of Sammy and Cas,” he explains. But what did he want, other than to kill all three of you?

“Yeah except you’ve got more human blood in you now. You’re not as strong,” you spit. You can’t tell if you’re being brave or stupid, talking to Dean like this.

He glares at you, grabbing you by the shirt. He may not be so strong for a demon, but he’s Dean Winchester, so he’s strong enough. And so you are scared, of course you are scared. But a small part of you is excited too.

“I’d be careful if I were you, princess. Watch your mouth.”

You don’t wait for him to do anything, as your knee goes straight for between his legs. He lets go of you and hunches over in pain.

“You’re going to regret that,” he growls.

You attempt to run off but he grabs your arm and pulls you back, before throwing you on his bed. You lay on your back, looking at him, as he walks closer to you. His eyes burn with anger, but there’s another feeling mixed in there that you can’t quite place.

“You know, we never got along,” Dean starts, as he gets on top of you. “It’s a shame, your Cas’ sister, I’m his best friend, we should get along.”

“Yeah I’m going to get along with the guy who toys around with my brother, he ruined his reputation with heaven, he was a good soldier of heaven, and then you happened,” you lecture Dean. You’ve always felt like Dean ruined Cas.

“And yet here you are, helping him,” Dean smirks. Dean climbs onto his bed, crawling on top of you.

“He was my mentor, I’ve been by his side for years and years. He’s my family.”

“And he’s my best friend. Or was, before all this happened.”

You sigh, looking up at the demon on top of you. Your breathing is heavy, as you stare into his eyes. He smirks at you, leaning down. You don’t know what to say or do, as he gets closer to your ear.

“I think I have another idea on what I want to do with you,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to tense up.

You look down at his hand, unzipping your jeans. You gently gasp as his hand goes in your panties and his middle finger finds your clit. You bite your lip, feeling your body relax under his touch. His lips brush against the skin of your neck, before he starts kissing it.

“We may not get along but you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this with you, Y/N. Way before all this happened actually. And now, as a demon, ruining your angelic innocence,” you feel his breath on your neck.

“Oh, honey, I may be an angel but I’m not innocent,” you look back up into his eyes.

His eyes are dark with lust, as he sits up, pulling your pants off, and then your panties. As he does, you throw off your shirt and quickly undo your bra and toss it to the side. Dean’s hands roam up and down your body, before he takes off his own clothes, and positioning himself to enter you.

“I’m going to make you my bitch,” he tells you.

“I’d like to see you try.”

And with that, he pushes himself inside you, and you let out a moan. He pounds into you, holding your hands above your head, pinning them to his bed. With his other hand, he grabs your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist, allowing him to go in deeper. He’s hitting your sweet spot, over and over, but you can’t let him just win like this.

You break free from his grasp, and roll over, using both of your hands to pin his to the bed, while you take control. Up and down you bounce, causing him to grunt, as he glares at you. You continue to work your magic, and Dean let’s you. No way were you going to let Dean make you his bitch.

“Yeah you like this?” you tease Dean. “I bet you do. You have this tough boy act but really you’re just a little bitch.” Wrong move.

In a second, he’s back on top of you, thrusting fast and hard, hand around your throat. You gasp, moaning. But you still refuse to lose. If this is the game Dean wants to play, you’re playing too.

“Look at you,” Dean says, putting his thumb on your lips. “Be a good little angel and open.”

You comply, and he puts his thumb in your mouth for you to suck, so you do.

“Good angel, taking orders like you should.”

You smirk, his finger still in your mouth, as you get an idea. You bite his thumb, and he pulls it out, growling. He grabs your face, and makes you look into his eyes.

“Did you just fucking bite me?”

“Yes,” you simply answer.

Instead of saying anything, he decides two can play that game. He leans down and bites your neck, gently. Instead of pain you feel bliss, with the mix of the love bites and his length in you sliding in and out.

You’re not going to lie, there always been a sort of attraction to Dean, but in your mind he was always off limits. You didn’t know how your brother felt about Dean, you just knew he was his best friend. But you definitely are not complaining about having sex with Dean.

You wrap your legs around Dean, wanting some sense of control. You want a chance of winning but as you and Dean look into each others eyes, you realize this might end in a draw. And neither of you are complaining.

As your walls tighten around him, he grunts, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss back, holding his face in your hands. He continues fucking you with passion, as you both come closer to your orgasms. His skin hits your clit over and over as he fucks you, pushing you closer to the edge. His finger goes to your clit, rubbing it, bringing you to your orgasm.

He follows shortly after, pulling out and finishing off on your chest, his eyes going black. He knew better than to finish in you. If a half demon/half human kid is dangerous, and a half angel/half human kid is dangerous, you couldn’t only imagine what would happen if there was an offspring of a human and a demon. Dean was smarter than risking releasing something like that upon the world, even as a demon.

You’re both panting, as he lays down next to you. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close. It’s a warm feeling that you didn’t expect from a demon. Maybe enough of Dean was in there, especially with the human blood Sam has been injecting in him. You really don’t know, and you don’t need to know. You just really enjoy being in his arms like this.

“Guess we both lost,” Dean breaks the silence.

“Yeah, and I’m glad we did,” you tell him, turning your body to face him. “Cas is so going to kill you if he finds out.”

“Like he can,” Dean rolls his eyes.

You smile, enjoying the moment. Right now, it doesn’t matter if Cas wouldn’t approve, if Dean is a demon or if you didn’t like him before you met him. It doesn’t matter that you are an angel and all angels were dicks in Dean’s eyes, because you aren’t. In Dean’s eyes, you’re this angel, and as a demon he can see you for what you are. And he is mesmerized.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The twerking video has definitely given them a boost. The comments on all the Instagram entertainment pages (People, Page Six in the US and The Telegraph in the UK) are overwhelmingly positive. The only place where I found a mostly negative response is The Times (UK). But immediately afterwards there was another post on People about how H&M feel differently about the distance from the RF and again the comments were criticising both of them. This has also happened on the past where people would be hating on Meghan but she'd go to some gala thing looking good and everyone in the comments would be like she's so gorgeous but then something else would pop up and people would be ready to annihilate them.

But the thing is that the success of the twerk must've given Meghan some idea of how to attract more people, hence the fun Disney Land pics which are also being appreciated (People insta). I hope the tide finally turns for them and they make it big in the US cuz only then would they leave the RF alone or maybe Meghan would. She does seem kinda over them since As Ever. Harry, however is the real problem and would never be able to be a success across the pond and would therefore, never let go of the BRF.

The Disney pics are pretty typical and common for CA-based (and American) celebs. There's really no correlation between the video and the Disney photos other than the public was interested in more "behind the scenes" family footage.

We were always going to get the Disney photos, no matter what. That's not a surprise. It's actually a standard in the American PR toolkit - want to bury a controversy that might affect your family-friendly reputation? Take the kids to Disney! Plus we also have Diana taking the boys to Disney when they were young, so it was coming.

What is a surprise is how much footage we got from Disney, compared to all the other known Sussex family vacations. Granted, most of those other vacations took place before Meghan had her social media back, but again that begs the question of if social media was/is so important to her (as it's been intimated several times before), then why did she wait 5 years post-Megxit to bring it back? Why didn't she launch her social media with Lili's birth or Archie's fourth birthday aka Coronation Saturday. Why didn't she launch it with the Netflix docuseries, instead of waiting for her lifestyle show three years later?

So either this is a pivot in Meghan's approach to social media - more family moments, both in volume and in frequency - or it's crisis management. We'll have to wait and see which one.

FWIW, I've been reading some of the commentary about the Disney photos. I think the photos are from two separate visits mashed together to look like one day. (I have a very low confidence in that, and my only proof is the separate outfits for Lili.) I also wonder who else was with the Sussexes when they went to Disney, because there's a photo of Harry and Meghan together on Space Mountain sans kids, which means the kids were left somewhere with someone else, rather than a parent swap. It's probably a nanny, but it goes to show how blind Meghan is; she could've gotten a ton of PR points had Doria been in just one of the photos because otherwise you've got everyone talking about nannies. Again.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 19 🍒

"Hungry Heart"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 6,022

Summary: Going to Jackson for a wedding seems like just a friend doing a favor for a friend, but old acquaintances and new attitudes don't always make for a great combination.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place June - December 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of divorce, language, No Smut, mention of infidelity, post-divorce strife, Ellie is kind of a delinquent (will be discussed in next chapter), brief glimpse of lumberjack!Joel, forced proximity, mutual pining (mostly on Joel's side), Joel tries to be an authority figure and Ellie ain't having it

Author's Note: thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this and been very patient with me! my birthday was last week so there was a lot going on, otherwise I would have had this out earlier. So.. we've got these two together again, but the reunion isn't exactly a happy one..

Series Masterlist

June 2023 San Francisco, CA

It's not until you're seated in a booth at the trendy new sushi bar downtown that you begin to doubt your agreement to meet Sarah while she's in town for a work conference. You'd said yes initially, then waffled about it in the coming weeks, and now you're drinking sake to fortify yourself. Your therapist told you it's a bad idea to mix alcohol with reacquaintances, but you're already refilling the ochoko when you look up for a moment and spy Sarah approaching you through the crowded restaurant.

You've never thought about what she might look like. A part of you imagined that you'd be sitting down to dinner with the same kid from twenty years ago. But Sarah has grown up, in her thirties, a successful attorney. And, from what you gathered by spying on Joel's Facebook account years ago, she's also a mother.

"Thank you for meeting me," she says, embracing you the way women always embrace each other, something you never got used to because of you lack of female friends. She smells like expensive perfume, the kind you spray on yourself at Sephora just for fun, and is dressed in a white maxi dress with blue floral print. She looks amazing, and you silently berate yourself for wearing black distressed jeans, a Rolling Stones tee and your lucky red Converse.

"You're all grown up," you remark, a hint of sadness in your tone.

"You look beautiful," she says in return. "You don't even look like twenty years have passed."

Little does she know you spent forty dollars on a concealer to hide your undereye circles, and were talked into spending another twenty on something called a lip oil that makes your lips sticky and tastes like cheap pineapple, which you wiped away on the restaurant napkin as soon as you sat down.

Settling down to small talk, you neglect to look at your menus, annoying the waitress who stops by to take your order three times and ultimately just comes by to refill your drinks.

Sarah lives out east in Boulder, Colorado, practicing law alongside her fiance Theo. They have a son together, ten year old Finn.

"Theo proposed when I got pregnant," Sarah says. "But I wanted us to build a foundation first, construct our little family. And when the time was right, I proposed to him."

She shows off pictures of Finn, sharing the funny and cute anecdotes that parents do, and when she asks about Ellie you do the same: Ellie in the hospital, just hours old, wearing a tiny knitted pink and blue hat as she glowered at the camera; Ellie at four, playing T-ball, one of just two girls on an all-boys team; Ellie at ten winning the school spelling bee.

Being an Army wife gave you the opportunity to see the world, experience things you otherwise wouldn't. Japan, Germany, Italy.. you were happy that Ellie got to experience them too.

But even that couldn't save your marriage to Justin.

There were infidelities on both sides, and when you found out about his, it was almost a relief to discover he was not Nice Justin, just a man who had affairs. In the midst of your own liaisons, you felt vindicated, though the fun wore off easier than it had in your youth.

Filing for divorce was only difficult considering Ellie. Justin didn't fight it, handing over full custody. It was the only part of the process that broke your heart. Now you were just repeating a history of broken families. Once the divorce was finalized it was like throwing up after being nauseous for so long, just good to get it out of your system.

("I kept my married name, just to piss off the new wife," you tell Sarah, who snickers in response. "That's understandable.")

Settling in San Francisco where you like the neighborhood and the schools, life seems easier.

"Ninth grade history," you answer when Sarah asks what you teach. "I introduce Romeo & Juliet to kids who are the same age as those characters."

And now, with the niceties out of the way, there's nothing left to talk about but the past.

You've been dreading it.

"I never apologized for what I did," she says.

You nod, inviting her to continue.

"You probably know this by now, but I was the one who called your mom."

Of course you knew it all along, but hearing it is a different thing.

She got her number from your phone when you weren't around. And, unable to get the picture of you and her dad out of her mind, she dialed it one day and explained to your mom what she saw.

"Why?" you ask.

She averts her eyes a brief moment. "Deep down I always knew there was something going on with you and my dad.. the day of my party when I walked in on you, it was a rude awakening. It's one thing to know something is going on, and another thing to witness it. And later, when you left, I realized I'd taken it too far."

Sarah goes quiet and so do you, despite the chatter in the busy restaurant.

You ask, "Did Joel ever find out it was you?"

She nods. "I told him later.. after he started seeing that awful girl you were friends with."

That part of your life, the bubble of jealousy and despair in which you made your home, seems so long ago. "Hailey," you remind her.

"Yeah.. she didn't last very long. Dad broke things off when he caught her stealing from him.. and when that happened I realized he was just better off with you. But.. by then it was too late."

By then you were already apart. The damage had been done.

"Was he angry at you for what you did?"

Sarah shrugs. "It was a silent kind of angry. You know how he is. We avoided each other for weeks until it became impossible. And by then.. you were gone."

You take a moment to reflect on your memories of Joel. "How is he?"

She smiles, as if she knew or even hoped you'd ask about him. "He's good. He's in Jackson now. Wyoming. Tommy's there with his new wife.."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "And, uh.. your stepmom?"

She looks blank for a moment. "You mean Tess? No, they divorced a few years ago. She was nice, it just didn't work out."

You don't know whether to feel sorrow or relief at this fact, but for once you decide to be petty and let the relief take over, hoping he went through a fraction of the pain you endured.

Sarah toys with her salmon roll. "I'm sorry," she says, nodding to herself as if giving herself strength to do it. She looks you in the eye and you catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry. For starting everything."

So many times you've imagined what it would be like if you hadn't been found out by anyone else. Would you still have stayed in Austin? Would you and Joel have had more time together?

"It's in the past, right?" You manage a smile, happy that this is out in the open. A part of you feels like a weight is lifted. Things may not have happened the way you wanted, but now you can reconcile the things you can't control anymore.

"This is probably the wrong time to say this," Sarah continues, "but I'd like to invite you and Ellie to my wedding this December, in Jackson. You won't have to worry about airfare or hotels. Theo and I will cover your ticket and.. well, everyone's staying at my dad's. He has a huge house in town, enough for close family. I'd really love it if you would come."

"Justin, you're really fucking me over, do you know that?" you try to speak as quietly as you can into the phone while laying out outfits for the Jackson trip. "Ellie's going to be brokenhearted. You told her you'd have her the entire two weeks."

On the other line Justin sighs, the new, younger Mrs. Williams can be heard in the background. "I promised Svetlana first. We really need this time together," he whispers as well, likely not trying to instigate another argument with his wife.

You have some choice words for Svetlana, but are interrupted when Ellie quietly walks into the room, well aware that the discussion is about her. "I'll call you back."

"Let me guess.." Ellie sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going with Dad for Christmas.."

There's no point in lying to her. She's a sharp kid. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo. He and your stepmother are taking an extended honeymoon in Malta," you tell her gently.

"You mean Slutlana?"

"What? Ellie, that's rude. Don't say that." You pause. "Don't say that to her face, at least."

She's quiet, and at times like this you regret that she's essentially living the life you lived at fourteen, always wondering when Dad would come back, if he even wanted to spend time with his own child.

"So.. I'm going with you?"

You nod. "Thank god your probation is over. It'd be nice if you paid Marlene a visit, or at least called her," I said, speaking of the parole officer assigned to Ellie after a particular incident. "We should send her some Tiff's Treats or something, she deserves a gift after putting up with your delinquent self." You playfully toss a tee shirt at her.

"Can I say bye to Riley?" she asks, hope evident in her eyes.

"No," you're adamant on this one thing, as lax as you were before the trespassing situation.

"Mom, my probation's over. I'm not gonna get in trouble just for talking to her."

"I don't care. I'm not going by the judge's rules, I'm going by mine." You pause. "You'll just have to come with me to Wyoming."

Sarah had gone to the trouble of sending a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, done in traditional cream and gold, with photos of the two of them as children, as teens, and one gorgeously done couples photo. Theo's cute, and Sarah seems happy with him.

"Boring," Ellie says in response to the wedding festivities. "Why would anyone want to get married?"

You decide not to give her a response. At her age you didn't understand the fuss about weddings either.

Forgoing Sarah's offer of paying for your flight, you rent a Chevrolet Suburban for the drive over.

"You do realize we'll be driving for over fourteen hours, right?" Ellie says, helping you put the suitcases and bags in the roomy luggage hold.

"Yep. I checked it out on Google Maps."

"What happens if you get tired?"

"We'll drive during the day and find a rest stop or a motel at night," you shrug.

"You know.. I could take over the drive sometimes," she offers.

"Okay, kiddo. Why not?"

She brightens. "Really?"

"Absolutely fucking not." With a smile you open the passenger door and she hops in, grumbling,

Only so much music can suffice a long ride, and somewhere outside of Reno, Ellie busts out a dog-eared copy of a book Justin had given her as a gag won the spelling bee.

"Oh no, Ellie, for god's sake, not the puns," you whine dramatically.

"Yes, the puns," she grins. "How else am I supposed to spend my time on this boring-ass road trip?"

"Brace yourself. We've only been on the road less than four hours."

She groans, slumping forward in her seat, revived shortly when she decides to recite every single pun in that damn book, and when you give her that Mom look, she simply grins and tells you, "That's what you get for turning down a plane ticket."

Three days later you arrive. Jackson Hole is picturesque, especially in winter, as it it was just made to be the snowy backdrop on a postcard or a highlight on Instagram.

You turn down the main thoroughfare of the town, a light dusting of snow already falling from the heavens as you peer out the window, frowning in concentration as you try to familiarize yourself with the location. Ellie's buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, singing along to something on the radio. You turn the volume down. "Quiet down, I can't see."

She nearly bursts at the seam with withheld laughter. "You want me to quiet down... because you can't see?" she teases.

"Ellie!" you groan. "We're already late for lunch with the family."

Promising yourself you'll settle in a hotel after what you hope will be a painless reunification with Sarah and the rest of the Millers, you find your destination and drive up a perfectly paved driveway. Joel's house, a craftsman-style facade done in red brick and accented with carved gable peaks, looks exactly like a house Joel would own.

Parking close enough on the curved driveway without blocking in any other cars, you take a moment to rest, stretching your neck and shoulders.

"Should've let me drive," Ellie says from her seat as you both start to disembark.

There's a smart remark on your lips but when you turn to her you're distracted by a figure at the side of the house.

Someone's chopping wood, splitting logs with precision, though not necessarily speed. He's wearing just a white tee shirt, jeans, boots. You let your eyes linger on his physique. Who is that? you wonder.

As if he can hear your thoughts or sense your presence, the figure turns and wipes the sweat off his brow.

You know him in an instant.

Joel.

Your heart feels like it's going into arrhythmia.

"Come on, Ellie," you hurry her up the walk and to the front steps.

"The bags--"

"Fuck the bags." You press the doorbell nervously, willing Sarah or anyone to open quickly.

"You made it!" Sarah practically mauls you as she greets you, giving both you and Ellie a hug.

You're swept inside where it's nice and cozy, the air scented with pine and gingerbread. Christmas garlands are strung over every doorway, along the staircase railing, the windows, and the fireplace.

"Was my dad out there? I told him he needs to start getting ready. I don't want him coming to the luncheon all sweaty," Sarah says.

"What? No. I didn't see anything.. anyone," you stutter.

"I'm happy you're here, because we're actually going to have lunch at the Tipsy Bison instead. It's Tommy's bar, you probably passed it on the way up here."

"Oh, uh.." you're distracted by Ellie precariously sloshing a winter themed snow globe, the thought of Joel is still spinning around in your sleep-deprived brain, and Sarah is still talking to you like you don't look completely zoned out and anxious.

To make things worse, Joel comes in, carrying most of yours and Ellie's luggage. His white tee sticks to his sweaty skin, his face pink with exertion and dewy with sweat, his hair dark with more gray now than ever, and on his beard too. His eyes, those dark depths you've lost yourself in so many times, peer into yours, and for a moment you forget to breathe.

"You left the trunk open," he murmurs, as if it's a quiet admonition, a secret he doesn't want to tell.

"Oh.. thank you. You didn't have to do that." Your nervous glance at him gives your blushing away because you see his face redden as well.

"Dad, can you believe she has a kid now?" Sarah says excitedly.

There's a jolt of fear when you realize father and daughter are going to be in the same room, and neither of them knows it.

"Uh, Ellie, this is Joel Miller. He's, uh, Sarah's dad, and I used to babysit Sarah.. a long time ago.." Being put on the spot, you falter your words.

"Put 'er there, Joel," Ellie says, holding out her hand for him to shake, which Joel does, the start of a tiny smirk on his lips.

"We all lived in Austin together, with your Aunt Sofia. I mean, we didn't live together but we were neighbors," you babble, feeling even more blush creep up your neck. "Way before you were born, kiddo."

Meanwhile Sarah's eyes dart from Ellie to Joel to you, and back again, slower each time, as if she's piecing the puzzle together. Her eyes linger on Ellie, her expression unreadable before settling on you. You quickly glance away.

"Let me take that from you," you motion to the luggage Joel's carrying.

"Nah, I got it. I'll show ya to y'all's rooms." He hefts the suitcases and bags like they're nothing and heads upstairs. You have no choice but to follow him, sneaking a little glance at how his great his ass looks in his jeans.

"Nice place you got here, Joel," Ellie remarks, eyes skyward, surveying the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "Do you always address your elders by their given names?"

"Ellie," you whisper harshly. "Mind your manners."

"Damn, sorry," she mutters back.

"Sorry, Joel. She's--"

"Hey, why do you get to call him Joel?"

"Because I'm an adult," you say under your breath.

"He's older than you. Like, a lot. Like, Grandpa Bob's age."

"Stop it," you say through clenched teeth as Joel clears his throat.

"I can put y'all next door to each other--"

"I call this one!" Ellie claims the first door on the left, grabbing her bags and leaving Joel to lead you a little further down the hall.

"'M afraid this one is right across the hall from mine," he mumbles, leading you inside the comfortably decorated bedroom to set your things down.

"Thank you," you murmur, heart thrumming in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone with him in fifteen years. "You.. have a really beautiful home here, Joel."

He looks around, eyes darting anywhere but yours. "Thank you, that means a lot. Built it myself-- well, with Tommy's help."

"Really?" It's hard to pretend you're not impressed. "Must've been a lot of hard work."

"Yeah, it was. But she's sturdy." Joel gives a sturdy pat to the wall, and you can't help looking at his hand, the way his thick fingers splay out against the dark green wallpaper. Those are fingers that used to find their way inside you, curving just so in order for you to come quickly while his lips and tongue worked in tandem to--

Ellie's voice comes from the other room. "Wow! You guys have cable? Do you have HBO?"

"No Euphoria!" you shout back, scoffing when she quiets again.

There are too many questions on the tip of your tongue, too many things you want to say but not when you're so nervous that your hands are shaking. Staying quiet is easier. More awkward, but easier.

The room fills with unspoken words and missed chances as the two of you shift uneasily, not knowing where to start, not knowing if you should start.

"Didn't know ya had a daughter," he grumbles. "Not 'til Sarah told me."

"Yeah. Ellie's.. precocious."

A ghost of a smile graces Joel's lips as he looks at you and for a moment in time you feel eighteen again.

"How old is she?" he asks.

"She turned fourteen this past spring." God, please don't let him do the math, please don't let him do the math.

Instead he gives a low whistle, wears a teasing smile. "You look good for bein' the mom of a teenager. You still look beauti-- still look the same," he finishes.

You're thirty nine now and in possession of all the complexities that come with your age. There's more gray in your hair than you care to admit (which Ellie tells you not to dye because it "looks cool"), and there are a few more pounds on your person and a few more lines on your face than you're happy with, but his compliment warms you nonetheless.

"You look.. good.. too." Jesus, how did this man age like fine wine? If anything, the past two decades only served to make him hotter. It's unfair.

He takes a step forward, his face determined, lips pursed like he's still calculating his decision. "I.. I wanted to say--"

This time Sarah comes up, dressed for the cold, putting on her gray gloves. "Dad, get in the shower already," she scolds him. "I'm taking her and Ellie to the Tipsy Bison. We'll see you there."

Joel's eyes set on you. "I don't mind takin' them."

You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea how to respond. "Honestly, I'll drive me and my daughter. And we can get a room in town."

"No way, Jose." Sarah loops your arm through hers. "You're staying with us and that's final. So, will you let me drive you, or do you want to wait for my dad?"

Waiting for Joel.. it seems you've spent the majority of your youth waiting for him.

"Can we go with Sarah?" Ellie asks, solving the problem for you.

In truth you would have liked a moment to rest, to sleep, to puzzle over the strangeness of the day so far. You're almost a thousand miles from the home you've made after your divorce, under the same roof as the man who changed your life in ways good and bad, harboring a secret from him and his family. Not to mention Ellie's ignorance of her origins.

Sarah herds you and Ellie into the Tipsy Bison, a spacious bar establishment on Main Street, part of the scenery you must have driven by without noticing upon driving into town. Inside is the typical decor you'd expect: neon lights advertising every brand of beer and alcohol you can imagine, taxidermy mounts of bears, bucks, and elk. Pool tables are at the far left, dartboards to the right, a couple of foosball tables as well. There's a stage beyond the pool tables, ready for a band or DJ, a makeshift dance floor in front of it, and colored lights remain still overhead, their brightness dulled and stilled by the daytime.

There's a homey, cozy feeling as you glance around. The bar spreads along the far side beyond a range of tables and booths, boasting a wide variety of booze. Working behind the bar is a face you haven't seen in awhile: Tommy.

He comes out to greet you, his smile and bright and joyful as you've always known him to be, and part of you feels guilty that the last time you were together you'd been drunk, making out next to his truck, after meeting in a bar just like this one.

"Hey you!" He envelops you in a tight hug, and you start to feel better. Bygones are certainly bygones in his case.

"Tommy, it's good to see you again," you smile, pulling away to get a good look at him. "You've hardly aged. What's with you Millers, are you all vampires or something?" You cast a playful look at Sarah, who's bringing her fiance and her son to meet you.

Tommy shrugs, a playful grin on his lips. "You're more than welcome to join our Legion of the Undead," he jokes.

You're introduced to Theo, Sarah's husband-to-be, who's on the quiet side, a contradiction to Sarah who's chattering away about him, and Finn, who's an exact replica of his dad, eyeing you and Ellie with a shy smile.

Ellie manages to find a friend in him as you and the others get to catching up. You're introduced to Maria, Tommy's wife, the roundness of her baby bump just barely showing. She oversees the caterers as they start setting up for lunch. Tommy and Sarah talk about you like you're a part of the family instead of someone who knew them for a summer and changed things forever, even in some small way.

"Sarah tells me this is your place now," you speak to Tommy, who's behind the bar and pouring you a drink.

"Sure is," he says, sliding the drink across the bar to you. "Don't know anyone who orders a gin and tonic in the middle of winter," he says, teasing you.

"I'm eccentric," you smirk, taking a sip of the crisp, slightly bitter drink.

"Should be you behind this bar, Cherry," he winks.

"Oh god, no one's called me that in forever," you groan, doing a quick check on Ellie to find her attempting to play pool with Finn.

"How's business?" you ask him.

"Good, good," he nods. "Just glad to be settin' down some roots, buildin' somethin' for when the baby comes."

"Congratulations," you smile. "You and Maria seem like a good fit."

"Well.. y'know.. can't fuck around forever," he chuckles, then he spots someone at the entrance.

"Hey, brother!" Tommy raises his hand in greeting and you stay still, wishing you could sink down into the ground or better yet, become invisible completely.

The old-fashioned jukebox ends a Fleetwood Mac song and drifts into "Hungry Heart" by Bruce Springsteen starts, the catchy, melancholic combo of piano, drums, bass, guitar and saxophone wafting throughout the bar. You keep your eyes on your drink, willing for all of this to be just a dream, some intrusive thought you've put incredible detail into, prolonging your grief over lost love.

But there he is, a barstool between you, giving you your space while ready to jump up at a moment's notice if you want him closer. Your casual glance gives you away when you stare too long at him, clad in a green flannel shirt, his gray tee peeking beneath. You could swear it's the same flannel shirt you wore at the cabin, in the days when you were younger and carefree, before bad things happened to separate you.

Joel catches your look, lips twitching into a smile as his hands wrap around a glass of whiskey.

"So, what took you away from Boston?" you ask, putting your lips to your drink so you're not tempted to ask too much. It's an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Lot of things," he mutters, staring into the amber liquid. "But mostly I followed Tommy out here."

"I was in Boston with him for awhile." Tommy shakes his head. "Hated it. I'll never set foot on the East Coast again if I can help it. I came out here, met Maria, started a family."

"And Sarah was already out here, buildin' a life. Just made sense for us all to be together again."

You look at both of them, glad the conversation isn't just between you and Joel. "The house is amazing. Joel told me you both built it."

The look of pride on their faces is endearing.

"We did, and mine too, across the street from his," Tommy adds.

"What happened to the contracting business?"

"We expanded it," Joel answers, a twinkle in his eye though his expression remains serious. "Made a nice chunk of change. Got branches in Oklahoma, Arkansas, even as far as Georgia."

That would explain the six-bedroom house, the fancy week-long wedding rituals that Sarah has joyfully swept you up in, and the catered lunches. The Millers have become quite financially well-off.

You listen to the brothers talk about some of the adventures they've been on, the good and the bad that has passed and ultimately brought them here, with you, once again.

The lunch spread is impressive: Texas style barbecue of ribs, brisket, and chicken; side dishes of beans, potato salad, grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and mouthwatering desserts of pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, banana pudding, and peach cobbler.

You haven't realized how hungry you are until you realize you have to remember to force yourself to eat slower, accidentally spilling a little barbecue sauce on your shirt. Embarrassed, you wipe it away, glancing at Ellie and finding her doing the same thing, just shoveling forkfuls of food in her mouth.

"Easy there," Joel's voice booms from across the table. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he playfully chides.

You were so absorbed in your lunch that you didn't realize he was right across from you. "Ellie," you scold her quietly. "Slow down."

"This is slow for me," she answers.

"Mind your mama," Joel says gruffly, his tone is authoritative.

She looks up at him, in annoyance and surprise. "You don't tell me what to do."

"And you don't talk back like that." Joel's voice gets a little more strict.

"Joel, stop," you intercede, your voice just as terse. The chatter around the table has dimmed but it's obvious everyone has their focus on you three.

"The kid obviously needs some fuckin' manners."

You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His eyes lock with yours, dark and cold. "I see where she gets it from. I guess that's what happens when a dad ain't around to teach some respect."

"Fuck this," Ellie mutters, pushing back from the table and throwing down her napkin, quick to get up and leave.

Your face is flaming red with both anger and embarrassment as your gaze burns through Joel's. "There's something wrong with you. Seriously," you mutter before getting up to go after her.

Joel goes after you. Sarah goes after Joel.

"Ellie!" you call out, watching her walk off in the direction of the house.

"I'll get her," Sarah volunteers, gently touching your arm. And then you hear her speak to Joel under her breath, something like "You're ruining it," before she hurries up to catch Ellie.

It's you and Joel now.

"Babygirl," he starts, his voice low.

"Babygirl?? Fuck you!"

Joel goes pale, obviously not expecting that. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to hate me."

"Hate you? No, you deserve worse than for me to hate you! How dare you yell at Ellie like that? I never once saw you treat Sarah that way."

"She never acted like that," he huffs.

"Do us both a favor and just stay away from us for the rest of the week. I'll see about getting a motel tonight, just.. fucking leave us alone."

He mutters Christ, and reaches for you, pulls you to the side of the building. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Yeah? Tell her that." You could easily leave. He's not restraining you, but you stay. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"

He looks guilty. "No, of course not. I've been trying to talk to you since you got here--"

"Fifteen goddamn years and I don't hear anything from you? And now you.. what, you expect me to fall into your arms like I'm a stupid fucking teenager again? Go to hell! Nothing is that simple anymore!"

You hadn't meant for all your rage to come spilling out, it was just supposed to be about Ellie, but now that you're face to face with him, you can't help wanting to rage at him. Joel backs away from you, his eyes on the ground, hands on his hips, jaw set.

"Longer than that, actually," you softly correct yourself. "San Antonio.. you fucking left me. On my birthday."

He steps forward, not ready to back down. "I went to jail for you. On my birthday."

"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask for anything but for you to love me! And you stopped!"

"No, I didn't," he whispers, arms hanging at his side even though they itch to reach out for you, hold you, make it better again.

"Don't say that," you warn him, backing away. "Don't insult my intelligence, Joel. You don't know what I went through after you left me. My heart was broken for years!"

"You were just a kid. I.. I thought I was doin' right by lettin' you go."

"I wasn't better because of you breaking up with me. I got worse! So much worse!" You don't dwell a lot on the past, specifically the college years that are now mostly a blur of hookups and hangovers, but now it all comes rushing back. Joel was your safety net and he took all that away from you once you started to freefall.

"Bullshit. You got married," he says bitterly.

"I did that so I could feel normal again. I tried to save myself. But it didn't matter in the end because he didn't love me either. Though I have to say, my divorce hurt a hell of a lot less than your abandonment."

Joel starts to look his age. The lines in his face deepen with worry and regret as he absorbs your words, mulling over everything that has happened. "I'm sorry--"

"Besides, you got married too! So please don't play like you're such a saint. You hardly look the part." Your anger has warmed you, given some spice to your blood so that you don't even feel the cold anymore. You roll your sleeves to your elbows, fists curled, adrenaline pumping as you finally tell him everything that's been locked away inside your heart.

"I don't accept your apology," you grunt, adding, "And don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again!" You storm off, wishing you'd brought your jacket but it would mean having to walk past Joel, back into the restaurant and out again, and you're already walking away. It seems one of you is always walking away from the other.

It's snowing again when you find Sarah and Ellie, further down in front of a storefront, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Both are smiling, chatting, seemingly getting along. You know you should reprimand Ellie, tell her to apologize to Joel, but how can you be a hypocrite that way when you won't even talk to him yourself? All you can think about is leaving, going straight to the motel and picking up your things at Joel's later.

Sarah talks you into staying, warning of bad weather coming in soon. She apologizes for Joel, and you apologize for airing your grievances so publicly.

"Just don't do it at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow," she smirks. "Then I'll have to leave your ass out in the snow."

That evening you and Ellie keep to your rooms. You use your phone for distraction when your attention span keeps drifting from your novel, but even technology isn't the answer. There's only so much Merge Mansion you can play, and not even True Detective can hold your attention for long. You decide to rewatch Narcos (for the plot, you tell yourself) when Ellie knocks on your door.

"What's up, kiddo?" You press pause and scoot over on the bed, offering her to get comfy next to you.

"Have you seen the news?"

You're on Do Not Disturb and haven't gotten any of your usual notifications.

"There's a blizzard coming tonight. Sarah says sometimes the main roads get snowed in and we won't be able to get out."

Oh Sarah Miller, the purveyor of bad news. "She told me something like that. How long do they expect conditions to last?" You're already checking your phone.

"Could be days, maybe even up to a week," Ellie shrugs.

"Great," you mutter. "So we're stuck here even after the wedding?" It's the day after tomorrow.

"Please don't make us go to the motel. Sarah's really cool and really nice. And I even like Theo and Finn.. even Joel isn't so bad so long as he stops talking to me like a dad."

That night, as the blizzard blows in, turning everything outside completely white, Joel tosses in his sleep in his room across the hall from yours. It's not the howling winds keeping him awake; he's lived here long enough to get used to such natural disasters.

There's something you said to him, earlier outside the bar. It was an explosive moment, with words exchanged like bullets. But in the midst of it all he took away that one sentence: don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again.

Our daughter?

dividers by @saradika 👑

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💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩

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I really like the Eddie/Jee beef one.

I don't know if this ask got double posted or not as first time my browser hanged. So if you got it twice, sorry otherwise thanks 😊.

Thank you!!!

54 for 💔:

---

But not at work!

Definitely not at work. This is not a workplace conversation. This is not appropriate to discuss at work. Didn’t Chim just literally say that? They have to maintain professional boundaries if they’re going to work together today. Eddie cannot do that if Buck is following him around with sad eyes, trying to explain why he rejected him. 

Eddie would think that would be common sense. Unfortunately, Buck is fresh out of that lately.

He approaches Eddie not even five minutes after Chim’s little talk, while Eddie is just trying to make himself some coffee. Does he not deserve caffeine under these circumstances? Horse tranquilizer might feel better, but it’s not exactly work safe. 

“Eddie,” he says quietly. His voice is laced with regret and pain and fear. Fuck all that. He’s not the wronged party here. “Can we talk?”

“Is it about work?” Eddie asks, not even turning around from the coffee machine to look Buck in the eye. He obviously already knows the answer to this.

“No, but-”

“Then no.”

Eddie realizes that he could clarify. He will listen to what Buck has to say at another time. He actually needs to hear it for his own sanity. But he doesn’t clarify. Not yet. He thinks he’ll drag this one out a little. It’s not fun to be left hanging with no information, is it?

“Eddie, I know I fucked up badly,” Buck says. “I’d really just like a chance to explain myself.”

Damn it, he’s making being petty hard. 

Eddie turns around, prepared to explain that this is totally the wrong place for this conversation, but luckily, he doesn’t have to. The bell rings. First call of the day. Gotta love firefighting.

“Sorry,” Eddie says flatly. “Can’t. It’s not a good time. I have to leave.”

It’s the meanest thing he could say. He knows that. He’ll probably regret it later. But right now? Right now every little bit of him is aching. He’s hungover, he’s heartbroken, he’s pissed off. His filter for snide, unfair remarks is reaching record lows. He just needs Buck to leave him alone until the end of this shift.

Thankfully, he’s working in the ambulance these days. 

▪️▪️▪️

“He hates me now,” Buck laments from the back of the engine on the way to the scene of a car accident. A car accident that probably looks less fucked up than Buck’s life. 

“Who?” Ravi asks.

---

54 for 🥩:

---

“Tooth,” Eddie says. “Great name. Very… Fitting.”

“Thanks!” She replies brightly.

Eddie has so won. 

“What do you say we stop for ice cream on the way back?” Eddie suggests.

Buck gives Eddie a look that says he absolutely sees through Eddie’s motive. 

“I love ice cream!” Jee announces giddily. 

“What a coincidence,” Eddie says. “So do I!”

Buck sighs. “We can stop for ice cream.”

▪️▪️▪️

When they finally get Jee home to Maddie and Chim, her lips are stained pink from strawberry ice cream, she’s a little hyperactive, but she’s happy. Even more importantly, she’s happy with Eddie. They’ve had a genuinely good day. Eddie has actually really enjoyed himself. It’s been nice, spending quality time with another little kid. He loves Christopher more than anything, and he’s so proud of the young man he’s becoming, but there’s something about the age Jee’s at that’s special in its own way. A kind of special that doesn’t come back once it’s gone. Not that it isn’t replaced other amazing things, but… But Eddie supposes he misses it. 

Buck and Eddie walk a babbling, clay-shark wielding Jee up the porch steps and to her front door. 

“Thanks for hanging out with us today, Jee,” Eddie says as Buck reaches for the door handle.

“You’re welcome,” Jee says, smiling. “It was fun!”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Eddie smiles. 

“Okay,” Buck says as they head in. “Let’s be quiet in case the baby is sleeping, alright?”

Eddie doesn’t miss the way Jee’s expression darkens. The mention of her brother has snapped her right out of the happy bubble they were experiencing, and right back into moodiness. He thinks Sophia was like this about Adriana for a year. And then on-and-off all through puberty. He’s familiar with the look of sibling resentment. He knows it also is accompanied by love, in most cases. 

“Okay,” Jee grumbles. She clutches her shark closer to her chest. 

Eddie offers her an understanding smile. As if to say, hey, I get it, being an older sibling sucks sometimes. But she’s too young to pick up on that. She just stares at her shark, frustrated. 

They walk into the house, and Chim meets them at the door. He scoops Jee up.

“What did you make?” He asks. 

“A shark!” She exclaims. Far louder than Buck had suggested. “Tooth!

“Wow,” Chim looks impressed. “That’s kind of sick, actually.”

“Where’s Mommy?” Jee asks. “I want her to see!” 

---

54 for ☠️:

---

“I don’t know who you think you are, or what psychic BS you’re trying to-”

“Buck!” Chim cuts him off. He steps forward, between Buck and Madame Mollard.

Buck looks at Chim with wild, angry eyes. “She can’t just-”

“Engine,” Chim commands. “Go to the engine. Now, please.”

Buck huffs and turns to walk towards the engine. Chim realizes he’s lucky he’s dealing with 2025 Buck and not 2018 Buck. The self-control has come a long way. He’s not sure he has it in him to handle that level of recklessness the way Bobby did. 

“My,” Madame Mollard says, raising a hand to her chest. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

Chim sighs. “I think we both know that’s not true. Now, if you’re not injured or in need of assistance, we have to get going.”

Maybe that’s unprofessional of him. Whatever. This woman basically just said he should be dead, so… Chim isn’t feeling entirely professional. 

Madame Mollard nods. “I understand. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again soon, Captain.”

A shiver runs down Chim’s spine at that unpleasant premonition.

“We’ll see,” he grumbles. Then he, too, turns to walk to the engine. He really hopes he never has to deal with her again. 

Back at the engine, Buck is waiting for him with those big, sad puppy eyes. He looks guilty, though none of this is his fault. 

“Chim,” Buck says. 

“It’s fine,” Chim says. “Let’s just go back to the station.”

Buck doesn’t seem intent on dropping it. Not surprising.

“You know that’s all a load of bullshit, right?”

“I know,” Chim lies. There’s some truth to it. He was supposed to be the one on that ladder that night.

“And-and you know I don’t think that way,” Buck continues.

“I know.” 

Not a lie. He knows Buck would never blame him. If their positions were reversed, Chim wouldn’t blame Buck, either. No one could have known.

“I don’t blame you… I-I didn’t even volunteer to go up there because I wanted to take the risk instead of you,” Buck says. “I just wanted to do the fun job.”

“I know.”

“So ignore her, okay?” Buck insists. “She’s an idiot.”