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cherry3point14 · 4 years

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The Wrong Winchester - One Year Later

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen Warnings: Cavity protection required. Word Count: 12,304. (WHY) Summary: One year after the fiasco that was Fourth of July, you’re back in Kansas and back at the Winchesters. This time with their other son. A/N: A sequel for the trope fluff fest that was The Wrong Winchester. Somehow this is fluffier and more trope-y! Listen, I didn’t say it was good, just that it exists. Happy 4th July my bitches! (*sobs in the corner* this was supposed to be a timestamp)

Ao3 if you prefer.

June has been cool this year, more so than normal, but then the heat of July hits like clockwork. Even though you enjoy airplanes, and the AC they provide, you’ve done the drive because Dean hates flying. It’s not even a compromise because the detour your journey takes means that it’s Thursday evening by the time you arrive in Lawrence. Sam and Eileen got there mid-morning. You’re hoping that the Winchesters are so distracted getting to know her that you can slip in like an old piece of furniture, unnoticed and ignored.

It’s when he turns the corner onto their street, and the family home looms in the distance, that it hits you. You’re here, again, and you’re doing this, again. And nobody would ever believe it but this is considerably worse because this time you love the guy sitting next to you.

Not that you’ve told him that yet. It’s been a slow year.

Loving Dean does complicate things though. It means that you care what the Winchesters think of you. Last year, pretending, was a walk in the park in comparison. You knew Sam was fake breaking up with you after you left. You could have cheated on Sam in front of him and it wouldn’t have mattered because it was all, well, fake.

Although you did kind of cheat on Sam in front of him. Boy, did you hope Sam hadn’t told them about that.

Now, the house you’re pulling up at makes your toes curl inside your shoes while hurried excuses start pouring out. “You’re positive you don’t want to stay in a hotel? Take the pressure off your mom having to entertain us and Sam and Eileen. That’s a lot of guests.” You nod to yourself convincingly while you stare at the front door.

He smiles at you like you’re adorable, which you don’t appreciate. “If you’re looking to make her hate you, then yeah, go ahead and tell my Mom you’re taking her firstborn to a hotel for the weekend.”

You huff and pout your lips so he knows exactly how frustrated you are, “I know you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“When are you ever?” He counters, smirking as he gets out of the car. You follow suit although you’re convinced that as your foot hits the stone driveway you can hear the ticking of a countdown. One small step for you, one giant leap to your doom.

Dean grabs your case and his duffel from the trunk, settling one on top of the other so that he has a free hand to wrap around your waist. It’s probably a picturesque image, him walking you to the house like that. You’re not sure if he’s being nice or making sure you don’t run away. Dean’s a smart man so it’s probably a little of both.

His hand reaches to open the door but even after the long drive from Chicago, your reactions are lightning-fast. You pull his arm back to stop him and answer the silent look on his dumb face, “shut up. We should knock.”

“Did you give Sammy this much trouble last year?”

His joke drags a smile out of you, not a laugh but a smile. He’s been trying to calm you down the whole journey. You don’t get nervous often, so seeing you this anxious has both worried and amused him. He’s settled for being supportive, he’s done everything he can to take your mind off of this moment. He told you exaggerated fake facts about Kansas to stop you complaining that the entire state was too damn hot. He distracted you with questions about the case you’re working on when you panicked about exactly how Sam had explained everything all those months ago. And most importantly he fed you. A few hours out he’d pulled into a drive-through and minutes later you’d found yourself pulled over on a random stretch of highway, legs crossed, and a brown paper bag in your lap. He’d wiped sauce from the corner of your mouth and watched you wolf down cheese fries.

Dean knew how to keep you happy for the hours you’ve spent in Baby. But now that you’re finally standing at the threshold he, apparently, thinks it’s time to throw you to the wolves, which he does, literally.

In one swift movement, the door is open before you can rap your knuckles against it and he uses his arm—the one that’s around your waist—to guide you inside. Except guiding you inside is more like a gentle push, which means you trip your way into the Winchester family home while Dean remains safely on the porch.

“What the f-?” The end of your sentence never makes it past your lips, thankfully, considering the gathering in the living room as you turn your head.

Sam and Eileen are sitting opposite Mary and John, all of them holding a drink, clearly mid-conversation. They all stop. Four pairs of eyes are now trained on you. Even after a too-long second has passed none of them move as if your presence has frozen them in time. A perpetual state of being horrified by your existence.

“Dean!?” You don’t exactly shout but there’s a worried twang to your voice and still, none of them move. In fact, Sam doesn’t even attempt to help, which is a betrayal you won’t allow to pass unpunished or forgotten.

That’s for another day. Right now you’re about thirty seconds away from your first actual panic attack in years.

Dean slips in behind you, eventually. Even walking in with the bags he’s more graceful than you had been stumbling in. Not that you compliment him on that. You’re too preoccupied because you might have broken the Winchesters.

“Honey!” Mary beams with happiness at the sight of her eldest son and jumps up from her seat like a mannequin come to life. Whatever spell had been cast breaks so quickly that it might not have happened at all. Every single person takes a breath again and Mary walks over, wine forgotten on the coffee table, to hug Dean the way you’d seen her do a year ago.

“Mom!” He hugs her back, wrapping her up in his arms and lifting her from the floor an inch or two. You want to say he’s the cutest thing ever with that childlike smile on his face.

That’s what you want to say.

Unfortunately, the innocence doesn’t last as his expression morphs into a cocky smirk with a waving hand in your direction once he lets his mother go. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Is he freaking kidding?

Mary’s face steels, as if Dean had never entered the room. Your best friend and his girlfriend, who you know pretty well at this point, remain safely in their seats. And your boyfriend, your goddamn boyfriend who you love and trust, is standing there at an arm's length like this is an early fireworks display. The fuses have been lit and he is waiting for the explosives to go off.

The only person in the room who dares to make eye contact with you—outside of the matriarch—is John freaking Winchester. And he has the audacity to smile sweetly at you. Or as sweetly as John Winchester is capable of.

“Of course I remember Y/N.” Mary’s words are friendly but her tone does not mirror the sentiment. She taps her chin with one extended finger, thinking, “you were on Sam’s arm last year, if I remember rightly.”

You were going to murder Sam and thanks to your job you’d get away with it too. “I’m so sorry Mary, Sam told me he explained. It was all a misunderstanding, I was only…”

“Only jumping around between my boys? Or was the misunderstanding when we welcomed you into our home and you lied to us?”

You may have met your match. You could never admit this to the district attorney's office but Mary has found a way to silence you with a stare. Your lips snap shut without a good answer for her. You feel like a child being chastised for making a mess.

In fairness you had made a mess last year, however, you cleaned it up afterward.

Your eyes dart to the still-open front door before you rummage up an answer. “I don’t think jumping between them is very fair, Sam and I weren’t a real thing. I mean we’re still besties, even if he won’t call us that, but we were pretending. Which is still wrong but I defy any of you to say no to him when he does that dopey puppy face of his. Anyway I know he told you it was his idea, because it was, and I made sure he told you that because I don’t want you thinking that I came up with it and…”

“Great, you got her stuck in a loop, Mom.” Dean grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” You interrupt your own rambling to frown at him.

That’s when it happens. Mary breaks out into a grin so similar to Dean's that it’s frightening. If Sam got his smile from his mother then Dean inherited her devious smirk.

“It was your idea.” She answers your seemingly caring boyfriend.

You’re confused, as you should be. Hours. Days. Weeks of dreading this moment and this weekend. None of this makes any sense.

“I hate to sound like a broken record but, what?”

Mary turns her brightness on you, in the distance, John barks out a laugh and cracks his hand against his thigh as if this all went completely as planned.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We were only playing. It’s great to see you again.”

Then she hugs you, stiff as you may be from the complicated mix of annoyance and residual fear that you’re feeling. Her arms around you exude motherly warmth, something you’re unfamiliar with, until your muscles relax in her grip.

Over Mary’s shoulder, Dean is pressing his lips together to stop himself laughing and then finally your brain catches up. That bastard set you up. He sold you down the river. Still mid-hug you silently mouth to him, “I’m going to kill you.”

That sends Dean over the edge and a deep belly laugh escapes him. He doesn’t even attempt to apologize. He’s too caught up in how funny he thinks he is.

“So, you were all in on this? You too Sammy?” You splay your hand across your chest now that Mary has released you.

Mary links her arm with yours and leans in as if she didn’t rob you of ten years of your life, “if it helps Eileen told us we were being mean.”

You smile at Eileen, your now very good friend, as you take a seat next to her, “at least someone has my back.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “well, Sam’s girlfriends need to stick together.”

And just like that. The final knife in your back sets them all off howling with laughter again. This was obviously going to be a long weekend.

It's not even day one, that starts tomorrow. It's been a few hours at best and you're already in bed and staring a hole in the ceiling. Ordinarily, you might be questioning why there is a suspicious rectangle that is whiter than the rest. As if the patch of paint had seen less light than the rest of the room like a poster had been there or something.

“You gotta tell me.”

You scoff. He has done nothing to earn any answers from you so far. Looking after you during the journey must have been an act to lull you into a false sense of security because he jumped ship as soon as you arrived. Winchesters are a tight-knit bunch.

“Come on, please?”

It sucks that you love this idiot, it sucks that you haven’t told him, it’s even worse that you cannot resist him. You roll over to his whining voice and prop yourself up on your elbow. It was foolish to ever hope for a good night's sleep when he’s amped up to be in his childhood home again. You can’t say that you remember him being like this last year but, then again, last year you were avoiding him since you were pretending to date his brother. “Oh my god, if I tell you will you let me sleep already?”

Dean nods, using a finger to draw a cross over his chest. Even in the dark, you can see the crinkles of his eyes deepen playfully, “cross my heart. I’ll even help you get off to sleep, by way of apology.” His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear to hint at his meaning, under his oversized Zeppelin shirt you’re sleeping in.

“Nice try Benedict Arnold, I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.”

He knows by the tone of your voice he won’t get anywhere right now, although it’s nothing to do with his betrayal. You’re still obsessed with somehow clawing back any semblance of a good impression. Sex in his childhood bed doesn’t strike you as the correct way to go about that. He doesn’t tease and try to change your mind with filthy words he knows you love. You think maybe Dean knows tonight isn't the night either. Maybe that’s why he’s asking questions instead.

His hand slides up over your waist and settles comfortingly around your middle—almost as if he knows he has some groveling to do. He asks again hoping to get one of the things he wants; answers. “C’mon. Just tell me. I’ll tell you mine.”

You haven’t spoken much about last year with Dean and you were absolutely fine with that. Last Fourth of July wasn’t exactly a Kodak moment for you. It almost cost you Sam and as much as you love Dean, Sam’s friendship is one of the very foundations of your adult life. Sure last year was the kind of thing you’ve joked about, but the nitty-gritty details had stayed where they should, in the past.

However, being back here, albeit in the next room over to the one you’d previously occupied, has apparently opened the topic up for conversation.

“Fine. You really want to know?”

“With all my heart.”

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute. At the airport. Okay?”

His smile widens until you can see his teeth shine. “You’re joking?”

You bury your face in the pillow, only coming up for air when necessary despite the way he pokes your sides to make you squirm. “No, I’m not joking. I wasn’t sleepy getting off the plane. I was trying to figure out if there was a way for me to make out with my fake boyfriend's hot older brother.”

“You were too good for your fake boyfriend anyway.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “too good for me too.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to catch you off guard like that, it’s against the rules. Yet he does it all the time. The sweetest secrets whispered in your ear while you’re brushing your teeth or watching a movie. As if he needs to tell you as soon as the thought pops into his head. And it’s not fair because he deserved some silent treatment or something. You know he’ll be back to his tricks tomorrow, so he should pay tonight. But now instead of being annoyed at him, your lips are following his while you realize you were never really mad in the first place.

His wandering hand moves to wrap around your neck, his fingers are lost in your hair and his thumb traces over your jaw. This is the classic Dean trick. He thinks he’s so smooth and that one day he’ll manage to keep you attached to his mouth forever if he holds you there, just right.

As much as you want to appease him, it never lasts. Eventually, you always need air in your pesky, needy lungs. Tonight though it ends with your hand on his chest nudging him off of you. “No way. You owe me yours. Come on, when did you start like-liking me?” You finish the question in a sarcastically childish voice.

Dean is nothing if not fair, sometimes, and he would never break a promise. He leans back a little and adopts what you have dubbed his ‘thinking face’. It may be nighttime but you’d recognize that furrowed brow anywhere.

“When I found you in my bedroom.” He finally answers.

It takes a whole second to remember. “Really? You mean when I was trying to find the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I mean a guy comes back to his room and finds a pretty girl...”

It’s your turn to frown, “wait. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re saying that your ‘moment’ was when you found me in your room, in my pajamas, with bed head and a full bladder?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You were all cute an’ twitchy when I caught you, then suddenly you’re all fired up and telling me off for making fun of you. You were a little spitfire.”

You drop your forehead to his chest and let out a laugh. Trust Dean to like you because you busted his balls.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “good enough answer?”

You yawn, happily, and shimmy down into bed proper. “It was your game De. The question is are you happy with yours?”

He settles down next to you, close enough to hear the deep, “mm hmm” in his throat.

Almost everything is different this year but one fact remains the same. You can take the running gear from Sam but you can’t stop Sam from going running.

He has emergency running shoes in his closet.

The new part is that you’re up as early as he is. You’re sitting on the sofa with your laptop propped up on your knees, with yet another witness statement that you were sure was made up. It was too perfect and a jury would never buy it.

By the time Sam, the sweat machine, returns you’re typing a passive-aggressive email to that effect.

“You had any coffee yet?” He asks with two mugs in his hands, passing one to you.

You take the mug without looking up from the screen and swallow a scalding sip, which you only half notice burns your tongue. “Obviously not. Your mom is in there and she still scares me.”

He laughs but doesn’t question it. He doesn’t need to. Dean may have dealt with you on the long drive and whenever he was in town but Sam deals with you every day. He has been privy to almost every one of your breakdowns in the last month. June felt longer than thirty days.

Sam sits down next to you and starts watching the news channel you’d been ignoring. It takes a minute but eventually, he grabs the remote to pause the screen, “ah, there’s my favorite celebrity lawyer.”

You don't need to look up to know that you are on the TV.

“I won’t be anyone’s lawyer if I don’t figure out why my client insists on lying to me and getting people to lie on his behalf.” Your fingers get dangerously close to pounding the plastic keyboard into smithereens. “Hasn’t he heard of attorney-client privilege?”

“Okay. I think you need a little break from that.” He says prying the laptop from you and closing it on the coffee table, so you can’t see the screen anymore.

You want to be mad at him but, of course, you can’t. You look up at him and his soft smile that’s all kinds of sympathetic to the workload you’ve been bearing of late. If you weren’t being driven insane by the biggest case of your career then maybe you’d be a little more rational when it came to this weekend.

Although, that’s unlikely. You were always going to go crazy about this particular get together.

“I swear sometimes I think he’s actually stupid. I’m trying to help him. Why did he even think he could escape arrest in the third most populated city in America?” You shuffle yourself so that you’re sitting sideways and facing him. Despite your insults about your client, the question is earnest.

“Probably figured it’s the only way he’d get to hire you.”

You roll your eyes, “sure, that’s why I’m co-counsel to fucking New York’s finest Marcus Delaney, who he trusts like a fucking brother.”

Sam widens his eyes at you in warning but you catch on too late; his mother is in the next room. You both hold your breath waiting for a reaction. When nothing happens you relax and he answers the least important part of your statement, “technically you’re a New York native too.”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Well, you mentioned…”

“Nah-uh. Enough about me. You took my laptop away so now we have to talk about you.” You smirk into your cup.

Sam knows where this is going. He told you his news two entire weeks ago, it worked like a charm and was also the biggest mistake of his life. Because two weeks ago Sam invited you to his office for lunch and told you over takeout that he was getting married.

He wanted to tell you because you’re his best friend. He’d told you before Dean and sworn you to secrecy until he’d called his brother later that day. Both of you knew the news was coming anyway, so it wasn’t really a race. Sam had been wringing his hands over how to ask the love of his life for weeks before he did it. You only found out about the ‘yes’ before Dean, because Sam had been trying to calm you down after another ‘4th of July freak-out’.

Sam had forgotten what happens if a seven-year-old gets their hands on too much sugar. Or, to be more precise, what happens when he gives a big, juicy, sensitive piece of information to you. Now he can't get you to shut up about it.

He sighs. He’s still facing the TV even though your eyes are on him. “I should have let you keep working, shouldn’t I?”

“Too late for that, Sammy. Have you decided when you’re telling everyone yet?”

He shifts to side-eye you, “oh, yeah. I was thinking, how about never?”

“You can’t bring your devoted fiance home for the weekend and not tell them!” You’re keeping your voice low but it’s insistent all the same.

“Ok. What about at the airport?”

“We’re dropping you back to the airport.”

“Right, before that then.”

You laugh, “why did you even come this weekend if you’re going to chicken out?”

“I’m not going to chicken out but, would it be so bad if I did? I brought you last year to avoid my Mom's crazy and now… I mean this will be like Defcon two.”

You wonder, briefly, what triggers Defcon one. Considering how quickly Mary had asked you if you were pregnant last year, you’d wager it’d be grandchildren.

In the pause where you both sip your morning caffeine again, neither of you notice the slight creak. The kind of creak where a door begins to open but never does.

“All I’m saying is, getting married is an amazing thing. It’s time to share the happy news. Hell, I’ll go wake Dean and we can do it now.”

“That’s easily the worst idea you’ve ever had. And I’m including the outfit you wore to the first office Christmas party.”

He’s walking right into your trap. “I dusted that number off for your brother over Christmas, you know.”

“Oh god. I don’t need to know about you and-and him-and a sexy Santa's helper costume.” He actually gets up, sweeps his mug with him, and sours his face.

“You brought it up, Sammy!” You're grinning all wide and evil, calling after him.

He pauses with his back leaning against the kitchen door, at the same time that Eileen walks in. “I hate you.”

You look up at her and sigh, “you see the way he talks to me when you’re not around?”

This is not the first time Eileen has been caught in the middle of you two, so she laughs and promises, “I’ll talk to him about that.”

Sometimes Dean likes to yank your chain and sometimes you like to yank his. It’s what makes you kind of perfect for each other, any bruised egos or pouting lips are part of the game you play. An excellent example is the way he’d betrayed you already this weekend. You weren’t mad, well, maybe a little, but in the end, you forgave him because it’s him.

In all the jokes there’s one thing that Dean knows not to play around with, one thing that he wouldn’t dare mess with.

Winchester. Family. Baseball.

You had agreed to wear his dumb spare jersey the same as you’d done for Sam. Like Eileen was doing for Sam this year. Although you had to admit her shorts are a little more family-friendly.

You’d even made a sign. A big piece of poster board, some markers, glitter, and stickers that you had gone to Target to buy special. It said GO TEAM DEAN! With a heart to dot the exclamation point. The sign was a surprise. When you’d shown him before leaving for the game he’d called you a dork and smiled so wide you worried his face might break.

You were ready for the game because you were safe. The worst thing that you expect is the comments when you turn up with a ‘1’ on your shirt this year instead of a ‘2’. You’ve already dealt with this from Mary and John but you weren’t so blind to forget about the rest of the family.

Charlie laughs at you when she notices, straight away, and threateningly asks for the story later. Bobby simply says, “switched teams, huh?” Before walking off. Granted he doesn’t seem to judge you, merely stating the observation like an interesting factoid. And Gabe starts, “lookie here when do I-” but smartly stops. He’s too tongue in cheek to be offensive but the look on Deans’ face might have something to do with his change of heart.

All of that you could handle. Par for the course. You had been ready for it because—can’t stress this enough—you were safe. Today was going to be a fun day of cheering on your boyfriend at his weird family baseball game.

You’re so sure of yourself that you even helped Mary pack drinks and snacks, with Eileen as a buffer, because you knew you’d get to enjoy said food. As a spectator.

When John does his ‘gather round me for I am John Winchester’ bit to pick the teams you’re choosing your spot in the stands. A little area in the front row for you, Mary and Eileen where you’re putting the food. You don’t join said gathering because that’s how not relevant it was to your life. You’d find out the teams when they’re playing and you’re only fifteen feet away from them all. You can hear them barking out names fine.

Dean picks Micheal. Sam makes a comment like ‘big surprise’. Bickering ensues until John gets them to focus up.

You could write this stuff in your sleep. You don’t want to call them predictable, considering this was only your second year here, but sometimes the truth is right there in front of you. And the truth is Winchester family baseball is going exactly how you expect.

Actually it’s the one thing that is going how you expect this weekend. Frankly, you needed that, some stability. Something you could rely on.

“Y/N”

Time slows down. In your head, you can hear that siren noise from Kill Bill and the world is suddenly devoid of color, except one. A red light flashes over your vision, as you turn in comically slow motion to find out which one of those idiots betrayed you.

Dean. Of course. The goddamn one you’re in love with.

He has the absolute gall to wave at you from where he’s standing. Smiling like, well, like it’s Fourth of July weekend and he innocently picked his girlfriend to play a game with him. That’s what it must look like to his family anyway.

To you? You feel like Lady Macbeth. Disappointed and betrayed by your significant other who can't do his one job. You’re not even asking him to kill the King of Scotland, all he had to do was not say your name.

Before you have an opportunity to write yourself out of this tragedy, he’s waving you over and your legs start walking. Apparently your body listens to him more than it listens to your own brain. Was nothing sacred anymore?

“There’s my girl.”

Those words would normally make you weak at the knees. Unfortunately for Dean, when it comes to baseball, you’re not melting that easy.

When you reach him you smile until you’re close enough to mutter dangerously, “I’m going to make you disappear and it'll look like an accident.”

You notice people dispersing which means your amazing boyfriend waited to call you till last. Not only did he screw you over but he made you the embarrassing last pick.

He leans in to kiss you and breathes against you, “you know you love playing with me.”

God, you do. You love playing with this dick, who apparently hates you, as well as his dick. Not baseball granted but other games.

“‘Sides,” he continues in your silence, “you don’t want to let all that practice go to waste.”

“All that practice? Practice?” You pull your head back, unable to resist showing him how offended you are, “you mean the time you forced me to go to the batting cages?”

He crosses his hands at your back and pulls you to him until your thighs are pressed against his. Were it not for his jeans then it would be incredibly inappropriate for a family baseball game. Actually, with the jeans, it might still be inappropriate.

“I seem to remember someone enjoying my arms wrapped around her while I taught her how to hit. I also seem to remember that someone forgot all about me in a damn second once she could do it on her own.”

“It was very stress relieving, I kept pretending the ball was the dummy who took me to the batting cages.”

A laugh rumbles through him, his body is so close to yours that you feel it in your stomach.

“Come on, this will be fun. You need more fun.”

You poke a finger into his chest, an inch above the collar of his jersey, “don't pretend you're doing me a favor. if I remember the rules, I don’t have a choice. But don’t you worry, I won’t forget this.”

He grins in that ‘brighter than the sun’ Dean way, “I know baby. I know.”

You’d made it home four times, an impressive three more than last year. None of them were from hitting a home run or anything preposterous. You do hit the ball almost every time though. You still couldn’t catch, throw or run--all three skills are apparently super essential in baseball. You can connect the bat with the ball though. Everyone seems pretty impressed every time it happens, if only they knew how impressed you were every time you manage it.

Your lack of skills aside, when Dean wins, he leans you over his arm and kisses you rightly. As if it’s V-J day and he single-handedly stopped WWII. Eileen sneaks up on Sam, from where she’d been watching in the stands. Although your ASL is not perfect, you’re at least 80% sure that her hand's sign “sucks to be you,” as she walks to him. You might love her a little more than you did ten minutes ago and Sam laughs a little harder too.

Dean chooses a steakhouse. The place is all wood paneling and soft lighting. The ambiance reminds you of your first real date in Chicago, although there will probably be less sticky fingers. From the ribs, obviously.

Mary and John drive ahead and they’re waiting outside when you all arrive. You’ve told Eileen to be prepared, told her to have her wits about her, promised her you’ll jump in if necessary. She’d told you not to worry.

Oh, you hate to see it happen.

As soon as you’re inside you volunteer to sit next to John, it’s the smallest kindness you can do for your friend. She should sit between the safety of Sam and Dean for what is to come.

It starts as you expect and it’s strange being on the other side of the interrogation. Nobody gives a flying crap about what drink or food you order but Eileen? She gets the same treatment you had last year. Silence and an entire table waiting to hear what she has to say. She’s the shiny, new thing everyone is interested in. You’re both glad and sorry. Glad the heat is taken off of you and sorry that it’s Eileen bearing the brunt of it.

Although—and it’s not your imagination—they are a hell of a lot easier on her than John had been on you. It presumably helps that Eileen is a Librarian. Her stories are all child reading groups and teaching elderly people how to use email in the computer room. Even you find yourself a bit smitten and you already knew her.

You’re trying not to focus on her too much though. Let her charm Mary and John, she doesn’t need another face watching her while she talks. Instead, you concentrate on your appetizer, one of those deep-fried onion things you’re sharing with Dean. The unspoken agreement is if you eat smelly food then you do it together.

He shakes his head, making eye contact with you as he takes a particularly over the top bite, when you’re pulled back into the main conversation.

“Y/N, where did you spend Christmas last year?”

“I’m sorry?” You ask somewhat dazed by being called on so soon.

Mary smiles kindly, “Eileen mentioned her parent's cabin, which I know is where they spent Christmas. I realized I had no idea where you spent the holidays?”

“Sure. I-erm, I stayed in Chicago.” Dean's hand under the table surprises you when you feel the weight of him on your knee.

“Oh, funnily enough, I remember Dean saying he was in Chicago too and I thought to myself how strange that was with Sam being gone.”

Everyone laughs at her joke, even your boyfriend while he moves his hand up your thigh.

“Didn’t want to head to New York and see your parents?” She continues her line of inquiry.

You have no idea where she’s going with it, why you’re the one in the hot seat, or why Dean is driving you crazy with his thumb rubbing those incessant circles in your skin. You answer anyway.

“N-No. They go to Europe every other Christmas so they’ll be home this year.”

Mary takes a bite of whatever-the-hell is on her plate. “The boys are coming to us this year too, I guess we’ll have to get better about syncing these things up, huh?”

His hand alone wouldn’t normally drive you as crazy as it is right now. He’s only tapping a slow, teasing rhythm into your thigh for crying out loud. But it’s been a few days and before that a few weeks, and you’d been resolved to not sully this wholesome family weekend. So, your breath is just a touch shorter than normal when he squeezes, and you can only hide it by talking.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess we will.” You agree easily.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your parents, yours too Eileen. Do you think we’ll be meeting yours before Christmas Y/N? Any other big events coming up?”

Were you not focusing on the heat of his hand under your skirt then you might be suspicious of the way she asks that. As it is Dean chooses then to wink at you because he thinks it's hilarious how preoccupied you are.

“Erm, Thanksgiving?”

“Right, right. Thanksgiving.” She smirks like she has a secret.

You stand up suddenly, needing to get away from your teasing boyfriend, “sorry. I’m going to go use the restroom.”

“Hurry back.” Dean’s mocking tone follows you.

Were his parents not at the table you'd tell him to go to hell.

Saturday morning comes faster than you expected. You did have a jump on the long weekend because you’d all taken a day off work this year but Saturday still seemed to have jumped from a cupboard to surprise you.

You wake up as you often do when you share Dean’s bed. One of you, today it’s him, has the other one, you, in what can only be described as an inescapable hold. He’s got one arm wrapped around you, fingers hanging loose over your stomach where you’re laying on your side. His other arm is encroaching on your pillow to surround you and his head is curled in your neck. His breath is slow and hot over your skin. You never imagined that you’d enjoy waking up like this, so incredibly close to someone. And then you met Dean. Sometimes you wrap him up in your sleep, your fingers in his hair, and one leg thrown over his. Either way one always claims the other and you wouldn’t want anything different.

Except at this very second.

Dean is a light sleeper. A bit of a contradictory trait for someone who likes to sleep as much as he does—yours is not to question why—but you never want to willingly wake him if you can avoid it. You’re more than happy to let sleeping Dean’s lie. When you don’t need the bathroom that is.

Even though this isn’t your first time trying you still give it your best shot to slip out without disturbing him.

You think you’re getting there. You’ve managed to roll onto your back for an easier way out, his face is now smashed into his pillow instead of your back, you’ve slipped down the bed a little to get away from his hand on your pillow. It’s only that arm across you that you need to get free from. Today is the day that you’ll finally manage to pee without waking him up. The trick, you think, is not to touch him. You’ve been burned before by trying to lift his arm off of you when you only need to slip out from under it.

“Come on, five more minutes.” He mumbles, fingers come to life to hold you tighter and you swear you see his lip curl because you’ve failed to sneak away again.

“I need to pee.” Who says romance is dead?

He huffs, you’ve hit on what he deems an acceptable reason to let go of you. Barely.

Not that he eases up. You have to wiggle from his hold which makes you crack your first smile of the day. Despite your need to hurry you bend over him and press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I get some coffee while I’m up, see if I can get you to forgive me?”

“You can try.” He mutters in his half-sleep state.

The house is quiet when you leave the bathroom, ridiculously quiet for how full of people it will be later. The calm tricks you into feeling invincible, where nobody else exists save for you and the man you left in bed.

“Morning Y/N.” Mary is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and not doing much else.

“Oh my god!” You recoil with your whole body, arms bent into your chest like you’re trying to stave off a heart attack. You can be a little dramatic at times but the way she’s sitting in silence, illuminated only by the early morning light from the backyard, almost gives the illusion of her appearing out of thin air. “Sorry, Mary. I must be easy to scare first thing in the morning.”

A slow smile spreads over her face, “no I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I like a few minutes of peace before the boys are up is all.”

You grab two mugs, a pretty clear indication you plan to take coffee back to Dean, but before you can fill both she makes you an offer you can’t refuse. “You and I both know he is already back to sleep, he’ll keep for a few minutes. Sit with me.”

Dean's empty mug, your excuse to leave, gets left on the counter with most of your hopes and dreams. The only thing you try to cling to is that Mary wants to carry on sitting in silence, only, together.

“Y/N, we haven’t had a chance to talk, just you and me. Not since last year.”

Or maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for you all along.

“I guess we haven’t. I-eh, I really did mean what I said when I got here Mary. I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m not trying to rake you over the coals here, and I’m not looking for another apology. I know what my sons think of me, Sam thinks I’m crazy. You were being a good friend.” She shrugs like it's that simple.

It’s kind of ridiculous how quickly you relax, and how quickly you start spilling your guts, “The lying though. I don’t feel good about that.”

Mary is quick. She leans over the table and wraps her hand around yours, “I don’t remember that much lying. I could tell you loved Sam last year and if that’s like a brother, I’m still glad he has you.”

She’s right. You do love Sam like a brother, the one you never had. He’s been more your family than your own. The first family you’d chose and only real family you had, which is why you’d been so scared at first. It’s why you’d been so quick to run from Dean at the risk of losing Sam. Hell, sometimes you wonder if it’s one of the many reasons you love Dean—because he’s the only other person on the planet who loves Sam as much as you do.

Your fingers twitch under her hand, unsure of the loving way she holds you. Unsure if you deserve it or why she offers it so easily. Whatever the answer is, she has your guard down.

“What about Dean?” It’s a loaded question. You need someone else to see what’s there before you can admit it to him. You're looking for confidence because you are unsure of his feelings. Who better to judge than his own mother?

She squeezes enough to tell you that you’re looking down at your coffee instead of looking at her, before she pulls back to lift her mug to her lips again. “That’s obvious Y/N.” She almost sounds bored at such an easy question, ”I knew I was right all along.”

"Right about what?”

Not even a pause. If she was indeed waiting for you this morning then she was waiting for you to ask this question.

“That you are going to be a Winchester someday.”

“No-I, no…” You trail off to nothing and it’s not because of the way Mary is still grinning despite your protests. It’s not her raised eyebrows over the rim of her cup. It’s not even the little hum like noise she lets out in affirmation that yes, you would wear the big 'W' as your last name.

It’s that you can see it. You’ve had a year of long-distance with Dean; scheduled weekends and facetime dates. You’ve been itching to tell him how you feel but terrified of scaring him away, scared of moving too quickly with the guy you don’t see enough, scared he doesn’t feel the same. And yet in the back of your mind, the vision is forming, pushing its way to the front without permission. Dean on one knee. You in a white dress. The moment you both say ‘I do’.

Is this what becoming a hopeless romantic feels like? Or were you always this much of a total sap?

“Don’t worry, I know.” She reiterates again.

Mary has a reputation, she’s pushy enough, so you assume that’s what this is. You assume she’s making a premonition, not looking for confirmation of something she thinks she already knows. So, you look to escape what you think is the awkwardness that you can’t answer.

“I’m going to get Dean his coffee or-or we’ll never get him out of bed.”

She nods you to leave but disagrees with your evaluation, “I think you underestimate how much my son loves fireworks.”

You smile wide, remembering how his face lit up in the dark the year before, “You’re right. Still, I should go get him up.”

Then you pour more coffee, including Deans, and run. If anyone else caught wind of this conversation they would never believe you were a defense lawyer, let alone the lawyer who’s been plastered over the news defending a celebrity on a murder case.

Dean has, predictably, gone back to sleep since you left. Although the light sleeper that he is, he is roused by the door opening and the smell of coffee.

“Baby?”

That’s all it takes to make you forget the conversation with Mary ever happened. You can’t help but laugh at his sleepy voice as you slip in next to him, careful not to spill anything while he fidgets awake, “who else would wake you up like this?”

He rubs at his eyes, “oh, y’know, my other girlfriend.”

“You’ll have to introduce us one day, we can compare notes.”

You’re still not used to the Winchester’s if you’re being completely honest. To you, barbecue has always been a type of food, and not necessarily one your parents approved of. It was never a place, a home. That’s what today is. Saturday afternoon and the sun is high, there's a faint twang of country music coming from somewhere. Not loud enough to hear the lyrics but loud enough to identify the genre, loud enough to wish you were wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone has a beer or a burger, or both. And it’s not all dopey eyed niceties. There are teenagers, Claire and Alex, hating everyone from the other end of the yard. Occasionally there’s a “screw you” or a “you idjit” shouted from the many random conversations happening. But it’s still somehow perfect in the imperfections. It’s cozy and homely. It’s a family. Love.

It would be easy to feel overwhelmed and convince yourself that you don’t belong. It’s lucky that you have your boyfriend. And since he has disappeared on you, Sam and Eileen. Although she is doing a much better job than you at fitting in.

“She’s going to make me look bad,” you tell Sam while you both watch Eileen animatedly tell Uncle Bobby something that makes him howl. Even his stoic expressions are hidden behind his beard but Eileen is a stand-up comedian, apparently

“That’s not hard is it?” He teases.

“That might hurt if you hadn’t picked me to bring last year, to protect her from all this.” You use the neck of your bottle to draw a circle in the air around the whole motley crew of his family.

Before you register his movement he has an arm around your shoulders, you’re expecting a headlock so you’re pleasantly surprised when he pulls you into a side hug. “That’s the first time you’ve joked about it since… since last year. I’m glad. Everyone else is over it, you’re the only one hanging on Y/N/N.”

You don’t want to choke up in the middle of their backyard but sometimes Sam’s big brother moments hit you like that. “I never said I was very good at letting things go.”

He huffs. “You’re too tough sometimes. That’s why I picked you to help me.” He sucks in a slow breath, “you have to get out of your head... and maybe stop being so annoying.”

You shove him back so he can’t lean on you but now you’re out of his hold he’s looking down at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. He hasn’t asked for something which means he’s trying to use them to make you feel better. You hadn’t realized you’d needed to feel better, was your face sad enough to warrant a Sam pep talk

“I’m fine,” you wave away his concern. “Have you decided yet?”

“And there I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Is Eileen happy to let you forget?” You counter him with an expectant look. “She wants to tell them but she’s happy to let me make the decision since it’s my family.” He says in a pointed, not pointed way.

You shake your head, “she’s going too easy on you. Good thing you have me to put you in line.”

“I thought I was the line?” It takes you a beat, you’re actually surprised he remembered you saying that to John.

“No, that was what I had to say when I was being paid to make you look good.” His face turns somber, “I never paid you.”

“Tomayto, tomahto Sammy.” You finish the beer in your hand, “you know I’m not pushing you, right? If you don’t do it, there’s always Christmas, or send a save the date.”

He shoves at you this time and the air returns to its normal lightness. “I know. You only want me to put on my big boy pants.”

“I could care less about your pants. I want you to take the heat off me, obviously.” You hold up your bottle to him, “I’m out. You need another one?”

He chuckles, ducks his head, and looks at his fiance again. “Yeah, dutch courage might help.”

“Dare to dream.” You sympathize, patting him on his shoulder.

Sam might tell them today, he might not. You wouldn’t judge him either way. He knows you aren’t judging him. You’re nudging him, not so gently. You’re being for him what he is for you. A good friend. Sam has a tendency to drag his heels sometimes and his relationship with Eileen is one of the few things you’ve seen him jump into wholeheartedly. He is, after all, engaged in under a year. You’re beyond pleased because you’ve never seen him so happy, all you want is for Sam’s family to enjoy seeing that too. If you elbow him in the right direction it’s only because you know he’ll regret it down the road.

Besides, it’s not like Mary can scare Eileen away. She already said yes.

So, Dutch courage it is. You don’t condone drinking to excess in front of his parents but a few more beers wouldn’t hurt. They’d only loosen his lips.

The cooler is by the door to the kitchen, for easy refills whether that’s ice or beer. It’s out of the way. Most people stay close to the grill or their seat if they have managed to command one.

You assume your trip will be short and sweet. There’s no one else standing by the plastic box, which means no awkward cooler small talk to get trapped in. It’s half-empty but there are enough bottles that you won’t have to top it up even taking one for you and Sam. Then you stand up with a bottle in each hand, about to turn tail when at the edge of your peripheral you register Dean and Mary in the kitchen.

The window to the kitchen is wide and open and you should walk away. You almost walk away. Then Mary speaks and you can hear them so clearly that you have no choice. You duck down and sit precariously on top of the cooler.

“I know I’m not supposed to rush you but Dean, honey, I can’t stand it any longer. When are you going to announce it? I’m dying!”

Your interest is piqued. Unfortunately. It’s wrong, completely and utterly. Dean should be allowed his secrets whatever they are. Still, it’s not your fault that he chose to have this conversation, with his mother, in the kitchen. Where anyone could walk in or overhear them.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Although to be fair Dean doesn’t sound like a willing participant in this conversation, so maybe he doesn’t have a secret you have to worry about.

You don’t dare get up and peak through the glass since they sound quite close, but you hear Mary sigh.

“I heard her talking to Sam about it. How she wants to tell everyone and-and if it was up to her she’d have told us all already.”

The sound of the fridge opening and closing before he answers. “Still not following, Mom?”

“The proposal Dean. You asked her to marry you. She all but admitted it to me this morning and I’m so, so happy for you. I did think you’d talk to me first but… When am I getting my big announcement so we can celebrate?”

You suck in a breath and hope that it didn’t make a sound. If you can hear them it stands to reason they might hear you. Neither of them seems to. Or they’re distracted. Dean is silent for a too long beat, Mary is clearly confused, and she’s thrown you under the bus along with her, for good measure.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know what you think you heard…”

A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach at his tone, how against the idea he sounds. It’s fine, you try convincing yourself, he’s defending Sam’s secret.

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you and your brother think I’m nuts but I want you both to be happy. That's all.”

There’s a part of you that knows you should stop this. Come to Dean's rescue and clarify. You could fix this in thirty seconds or less. That’s what you would do if you weren’t stuck like your feet are made of cement.

“You've gotta cool it with that, ok? Y/N is just a girl I’m dating, that’s it, and I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. You breathing down her neck won’t help anything.”

You have to remind yourself that you’d wanted to know his secret. But maybe you’d only wanted to know because you hoped, assumed, that he felt the same as you.

You’d never actually expected a proposal. Not for years. You’d have been happy with not getting one ever as long as you got Dean. He was your prize, not some ring. But his tone says you don’t have him in any way that you want, you’re just a girl he’s dating. Just a date. He didn’t even say girlfriend. He didn’t even say he likes you.

“Oh, well. I’m sorry. I must have had my wires crossed. I’ll leave it alone.” Mary sounds deflated and disappointed. About a tenth of the hurt you’re spiraling into.

She also sounds like her footsteps are getting closer.

You need to move this time. Because the only thing worse than hearing this conversation is one of them knowing you’d heard this conversation.

The beers get left on the decking next to the cooler you’re still balancing your weight on. You stay low, curled over, as you take long steps along the side of the house. Your immediate plan is to get out of the way while Mary re-enters the backyard but it’s a mere thirty seconds before Dean comes striding out after her. He looks around, maybe for you, maybe for anyone else, it doesn’t really seem like it matters.

You’ve been worrying if Dean loves you, if you would scare him off by telling him you do. You’d never considered that he’s not anywhere close to that. He might never be.

Your mistake had been to immediately take solace in his room. It’s so his. It smells like him, every single thing reminds you of him. It’s the inanimate object version of going to cry in his arms.

It only made everything so much worse.

Though Dean’s room doesn’t contain a small library like Sam’s, there’s still a desk and a padded desk chair. The desk is covered in random things; a picture of him and Sam while Sam graduates Stanford, some sunglasses and amongst other things a small model car. A model of the impala that you’d toyed with while you were sneaking in some emails last night. He’d told you his dad gave it to him as a kid because his obsession with the car had begun early. However currently the chair is not where it is supposed to be. It’s wedged under his door handle because neither brother has a lock on their door.

You’ve spread out since you’ve been here. Your laptop is in the only free spot on his desk, your case is open on the floor where you’ve been living from it for two days now. Not to mention your things everywhere, a mascara here, or a lipstick there. At home, you only manage to stay any semblance of tidy because everything has its place but this is Dean’s space. It’s not even his, it’s his teenage space, somewhere he outgrew but visits every once in a while. Not even he completely fits in here anymore.

The point is you clearly don’t belong. Not even an inch. Dean liked you but that was it. As painful as it is to admit that’s not enough anymore. You’ve outgrown dates and sex, well, you’ve outgrown only having those things. For the first time in your life, you want the next step and Dean doesn’t. That’s the risk you take when you care about someone, getting hurt is always a possibility.

The only problem is you promised yourself no more pretending. Last year was enough for a lifetime. So, you can’t skip back downstairs and pretend you hadn’t heard what you did. You can’t sit next to him and watch fireworks and not be heartbroken.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” There’s a knock at the door that spooks the makeup you’d been collecting out of your hands. You don’t answer him instead, you scramble for the things you’ve dropped and scoop them up faster.

He twists the doorknob and you carry on your task because the chair will protect you.

Then the door starts moving. You expect to hear resistance after a second but the room is filled with the squeak of plastic wheels.

You’d forgotten that the damn chair is on wheels.

The makeup is dropped again, spilling out over the floor once more as you fall to your ass and slide across the carpet. You’d never managed anything close to a slide in baseball, never ever needed to learn one. Now you perfect it in all of two feet. Your feet plant either side of the chair and your hands wrap around the seat pushing it back until the door closes again. This was a mistake, the chair is only making it harder to push back, you should have moved it and shoved yourself against the door, it’s just too late for a redo.

“Hey, hey. Open the door.” It’s hard to tell if he’s angry, he mostly sounds urgent.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, still, it’s impossible to find the words to answer him. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret, or can’t take back, even if you’re hurt. In your silence, he keeps pushing, literally and figuratively.

He twists the handle again but this time there’s a little weight on his side. The weight pushes against the chair and by extension you. It’s not his full weight, he’s bigger than you though so even his half weight is starting to force you backward. You scramble to gain some traction, planting your feet better, shoving some more. The carpet gives you some friction but not enough to help against the force of Dean Winchester. You keep moving.

After a minute things are about a hundred miles south of ridiculous. You love ridiculous, when you’re not trying to run away that is.

Dean is one foot in the room, thick fingers wrapped around the door and his head pushed in looking at you. There’s a confused knot in his forehead while he takes in exactly what he’s forced his way to look at.

You straddling the bottom part of his desk chair, shoved against the door, and looking up at him wildly.

“Really, sweetheart?” He asks with a mix of frustration in his eyes and a curl on his lips, “what the hell?”

That’s enough to snap you out of it and jump up from the floor. Your hands smooth over the wrinkles in your jeans as if nothing happened. “Hi, Dean. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

You may be hurting, sure, but if your parents taught you anything it’s how to cover any emotion with pragmatic denial.

He steps all the way into the room now without you in the way. “Someone else? Comin’ into my room, looking for you?”

“Could have been anyone,” you shrug. Careful to keep your voice steady and neutral while you go back to collecting your twice dropped makeup from the floor. “Wouldn’t want any of your cousins to wander in here.”

“Right. Because they’re leaving the yard while there’s food on the grill, come on it’s like-”

“I heard what you said to your Mom.” The last thing you wanted to say makes it to the tip of your tongue anyway, as you dispense the collected make up into your case like a dump truck.

He parts those lips of his, which means he’s worried about something and then he smiles. He smiles at you while you’re doing everything not to cry.

There’s a quiver in your voice despite yourself, “it’s fine I get it. I wish you’d told me yourself but I can’t do anything about that. And I know I shouldn’t have been listening in and I’m sorry. Can you give me a few minutes to get sorted please?”

Dean cocks his head, takes a step closer to you, and then stops when you grimace, “what?”

“You said you-that we-I’m not expecting anything but I thought I was more than ‘just another girl’ you’re dating.” You shake your head, trying to stop those tears now you’ve said it out loud. Feeling your vision blur and wobble anyway. “Like I said it’s fine. I’m getting out of here though. I found a flight home, there’s no point in you driving me home eleven hours when it’s four to St Louis.”

Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t stand to sit in the car with him that long while you’re feeling like this.

“Woah, Woah, Woah baby.” He doesn’t pause this time. He doesn’t care about your frown as he approaches you, he’s more concerned about fixing whatever you have gotten in your head. He’s on you in an instant. One warm hand on your shoulders and one at your chin, lifting your face to his and taking in all your sadness. You hate that he’s making you stare into his eyes like this. Those green, soulful eyes had been one of the first things you noticed on his beautiful dumb face and now this feels like a goodbye. Of course, it's not a goodbye. He’s trying to tell you just by looking at you that you’re a goddamn idiot. “Have you met my mom? Remember when she asked if you were pregnant when you’d been dating Sam like a month?”

“Fake dating. Why does everyone forget I was fake dating him?”

He chuckles, “‘course. Faking. Well, you heard her, right? She thinks we’re the ones getting hitched. Imagine if I’d thrown fuel on the fire and told her that you’re my girl, I love you and that you’re it for me.”

There’s a big, huge lump in your throat stopping you breathing. Too gigantic to swallow down. Tears still want to rain over your face, again, but you refuse to be the girl that cries because her boyfriend, who she loves, finally told her what she’s been waiting to hear.

Wait, you need to say something back.

“I love you too.”

His smile is slow and lazy but it’s perfectly timed with how gently his body leans in to kiss you. His shoulders drop while you’re sighing into his mouth like every romantic comedy heroine. His hands still on your shoulders relax their hold a little and you realize, he might have been doubting how you felt too.

“That’s good to know.” He breathes. “But see if I’d have told my mom all that, with the whole family here, she’d have us shotgun married before I got the chance to actually ask you.”

Your eyes widen, “no. You’re not?”

“Nah, planning on knocking those socks off when I do. Fair warning though, that’s coming.”

A strangled laugh comes out of you because you are, and have always been, the stupidest person alive. Dean loves you. He loves you and you love him. And why have you waited so long to say it?

“Move in with me?” It seems like the next best thing to every sweet thing he just said. It’s not enough but for once you’re happy to be second best in a conversation. You’ve been thinking about it long enough, hating the distance and the weekends you’ve spent apart. It’s so obvious that you should have worked it out months ago.

“What?” He gives you the pleasure of seeing his goofy confused face while your finger traces the curve of his bottom lip. In case you ever forget.

“Move in with me. Move to Chicago to be with me. Benny can manage in St. Louis and you can open a second location... or be chief of police or a fireman or just eat deep dish all the day long, whatever you want. Be with me in Chicago? Everyday? Sam’s there too. How can you be his best man from three hundred miles away?”

Another kiss and a bigger grin that comes from his chest, not even you expected it to be this easy. Which is more of that stupidity because with Dean it’s always easy. You can only imagine how rosy your cheeks are as he answers, “you had me at pizza.”

You get to the foot of the stairs when Sam pops out of the living room. You’ve schooled your beaming grin into something more subdued because you don’t want to draw focus but Sam’s probably still just waiting for his beer. He tilts his head down and asks, “you good?”

Before you can tell him that you have never been better, Dean saunters down the steps behind you without any concern for drawing attention. “Sammy, how many times have I told you, you can’t have her back. She’s mine now.”

Sam purses his lips at his brother, which is still funny to you, and you press a hand to his chest to distract him from their brother games. “We’re all good Sam, I’ll fill you in later. The important thing is are you ready to go? Weekend is nearly over.”

He smiles at you, “couldn’t do it without my legal eagle.”

Finally, he gets it. “Legal eagles for life, Sam.”

“You two are a pair of dorks.” Dean slumps an arm over both of your shoulders, “I can’t believe I love a dork even dorkier than my dork brother.”

If Sam notices any difference or the massive L-word Dean dropped, he keeps his reaction in check. Besides he’s engrossed in something else, he kind of has something huge to announce to his whole family right now. Something you’ve been dying to witness since he told you.

You turn in Dean’s arm to threaten him, “he can still drop you and make me best man, you know that, right?”

Dean feigns anger, “he would never.”

“Keep talking pretty boy and see how fast I’m planning the bachelor party.”

“She thinks I’m pretty.” Dean turns his head to smile at Sam and involve him in your sparring match, you know since best man is his decision, but Sam is now bitch facing the pair of you.

He doesn’t say anything, just swings an arm out towards the kitchen and beyond that the backyard. An annoyed invitation to join him and his fiance for the big moment you’ve all been waiting for.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on De. Let’s go let Sammy-boo and Leney-bear be as disgusting as we are.”

You’re already in the kitchen when Sam shouts after you, “I told you not to call us that!”

“Eileen said she didn’t mind!”

Weirdly, the party in the backyard is exactly how you left it and yet you feel like everything changed, for the better, in the last twenty minutes.

Eileen sees all three of you step out of the house and senses that its time. Or Sam had already told her it was before he went looking for you. Either way, she walks over to Sam who magically ends up in the middle of the yard.

You can feel the excitement buzzing from Dean where he’s standing next to you, you bet he’s feeling that from you too.

“Hey everyone, I kind of have an announcement,” Sam calls out.

Most of them look around but nobody moves and he hasn’t captured everyone's attention in the way John does at the baseball game. For some reason that line from Highlander pops into your head, there can only be one. It’s a concerted effort not to snort at your own joke.

John is, however, one of the people that heard Sam so he hollers, “cut it out, Sammy’s got something to say.”

That’ll do it. The music shuts off and everyone gathers in a circle around Sam and Eileen. You notice then that Eileen’s ring has appeared back on her finger. You know she had it on a necklace until this announcement but the sleight of hand to make it happen is impressive.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep this short and sweet because I know you’re all waiting on more food but while we had everyone here we thought we should tell you all.”

Somehow, you hear Mary’s heart stop from twenty feet away.

“As most of you know Eileen and I met just over a year ago,” a few people who haven't been briefed share looks since he’d been ‘dating’ you last year. “And well, I’ve never been happier or more in love with someone in my life. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and a few weeks ago I got my act together and asked her to marry me.”

Eileen holds up her hand then, beaming, ‘and I said yes!”

They had to have rehearsed that on the flight.

Chaos ensues. Everyone claps and cheers and people try to move in to congratulate them. Above all of that Mary screams like she’s being murdered. She rushes forward letting every thought in her head fall out of her mouth, “But I thought Dean and Y/N… so you’re telling me it was you all along? Oh Sammy, sweetie, I am so, so happy for you. Oh god, I’m so proud of you.” She wraps her arms around him and crushes him. “And I’m so happy you’re going to be part of the family!” She lets go of her son to give Eileen the same bruising hug.

“Well done, son.” John claps Sam on the back with, you think, the faintest hint of proud tears in his eyes.

Dean wraps his arm around you then like he'd been unable to do it until everything with Sam was ok. You lean into his chest and whisper only loud enough for him, "he's going to be so excited about you being in the city with us."

"You think?"

"I know it. Granted not as excited as me."

He rests his chin on the top of your head, slotting you into him like a puzzle piece.

In the background, it goes on and on until everyone has said something to the happy couple. Even Bobby gets this choked noise caught in his throat. The whole display is actually very touching.

When they finish the mayhem John proposes a toast in which everyone raises their drinks. Then the drinking and eating continue, with much more vigor than before. The whole thing goes from a Fourth of July celebration to a party. The music is a little more upbeat, the hard liquor is brought out early and the hum of everyone feels excited.

Sam—who has been hugged, pinched and shoved playfully enough to last him till the end of days—wanders over to you and Dean with his fiance in tow. “Are you happy now?” He directs the question at you specifically.

You reach up to grab his face with both hands and jiggle his head while you baby-talk to him, “my little Sammy, I’m so proud of you.”

Dean and Eileen both laugh and it's one of those perfect moments you only expect to see in the movies. You realize then that with these three people around you could actually look forward to the Fourth of July with the Winchesters for years to come.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

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honestlytim · 3 years

Text

I'm resisting this. Writing my experience of the past day. Resisting the commitment to doing so each day. 'Its pointless' I hear, even though I know its not. 'There is no reason to do this,' even though I know perfectly the benefits and what changes this would bring. Namely that I begin to recall what occurs in my life. So often I run away into the present moment to avoid taking responsibility for this life. In order to not have to face the facts I stay present with the inconceivable present. This makes me forgetful and ignorant to the world around me. Blind even to my own experience. This technique of noting, nightly recapitulation of the day's event, daily of the night's dreams, morning and evening prayer of intention gratitude praise and compassion for the suffering of others, all this would lead to a more conscious and authentically expressed life. Is this spirituality? Who knows.

So this morning I woke up and checked on Faith. We had gone to see Moonrise Kingdom the night before in Amherst. After we took a walk around town we returned and retired to separate bedrooms. We talked long about the change in attitude that occured in me and what caused it. I no longer felt I could trust her. It had been so long that I had given the benefit of the doubt. After coming back from new york a couple days earlier, after our plans to see the show in turner falls had fallen through, my back had taken its last straw. I no longer could wait for her invitation, nor trust that it would be fulfilled if ever it came. I was fed up and finished playing into the regular pace of being happy playful and horny. She wasn't respecting my time and attention. I couldn't play the part anymore and I fell into my shadow. The bitter mute, callously judging the world from within. The self possessed and perpetual victim. Closing my heart and looking away from those I love most deeply in the world. I felt hurt and was protecting myself.

This is the truth and it isn't the truth. Its not a lie but fails to describe what was actually occuring. I'm throwing a pity party for the wounded parts of myself and I haven't even started. So I got out the oats and started preparing breakfast. Faith joined me and we got to talking out in the gazebo as we ate. Long after we finished we continued to chat. First we spoke of last night's dreams. Then about Sabien. About Faith and how they are similar. Why that could be good or bad depending on how you look at it. About how when you commit to being someone's partner you really got to follow through. Then we started talking about our past together. What went wrong and how I felt hurt. I saw that she wants a partner who is actively social and engages charismatically with others. That she didn't want me to change who I was in order for us to work. That having fun was important to her. I fell short and she didn't want to be controlling. She couldn't keep the illusion going and found some greener grass. I thanked her for the transformation that she's helped catalyse in me and after getting the last few things together she drove away. A sad and fruitful time. It left me grievous yet hopeful for the future.

I made some lunch and did some laundry and then got on the phone with Rosie. A video call in the gazebo again. We talked fairly briefly, I realize I was being a bit passive aggressive in reflecting the behaviors that had made me disillusioned with her, yet not speaking my mind forthwithly. I was preventing her from feeling guilty by not putting plainly why I was rather upset with her. I had driven out all the way to bovina and we had hardly spent a moment together. I felt dejected and underappreciated. She said some things after doing the digging to find that out. That she wasn't in this to be co-dependent with someone. That she wasn't going to accept having to be hypervigilant and over attentive to my state in order to constantly keeping me comfortable. That she wasn't in it to go through emotional labor just for me to express myself. That I need to be able to speak my needs and wants and what isn't working for me. I need to be able to say that I want a partner that prioritizes me. We concluded by stating where we stand, which isn't any where in particular. We aren't in a relationship, even a poly amorous one, we definitely aren't partners, friends isn't quite right. With us going separate directions we aren't really a thing one way or another. There is possibility after the roadtrip for something to take shape, but until then we will just be keeping eachother in the loop. I recall her saying she wants a partner to sleep in the same bed with each night, to wake up together and to move throughout the world together. To care for a shared community, to depend on each other and keep each other accountable to the goals and growth, to practice and prayer. I don't know if I can be that, or would be satisfied im trying to be that.

Next I went to play guitar and Trisha came in from the garden saying she was gunna walk back to her and Roman's apartment. I said I'd give her a ride and we could hang out afterward. We chatted for a bit and got stoned. I played the guitar and she was being a bit over baring taking care of my needs. Asking if I needed anything, wanted water or beverages. I felt her stress and anxiety. She began cleaning things up. Roman came back and we watched some TV. It was nice being with him even though we didn't talk much. I felt sad seeing them feed into each other's habits. They seemed stuck and unwilling to get out. I no longer felt the need to deal with it but simply wished for their circumstances to improve. In sorrow I left and came back to my own bed to turn in for the last night in a while to be spent at Pine st.

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afterdeck-ace · 4 years

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Buggy! for the character asks.

Buggy

Have an Impel Down Buggy because it’s my fave look for him. And if you’ve already seen Ellie’s take at this gorgeous Ponytail Buggy, you know it’s the only look that matters.

Favorite thing about him: His devil fruit. The way he wears his pirate hat, with the two pigtails sticking out. He is so so so hurt. That guy is a walking trust issue. The way he denies having feelings or being a good guy. The way he shows such a wide range of emotions though. He’s smart.

He’s lucky and successful despite himself. It’s a running joke. He IS a running joke. I mean... He made it to Shichibukai. If it’s not proof enough it was an already crumbling institution...

Least favorite thing about him: He’s selfish, a liar, prone to betrayal and greedy to boot. He changes sides so fast, it’ll give you whiplash. His bad faith is twice the size of Reverse Mountain. He’s jealous, unaware of his own achievements, resentful. Oh yeah, he definitely knows how to hold a grudge that one. He’s a coward too. He’s kind of a Usopp gone wrong (or wild).

But it’s just pure gold when you want to write him. It’s hard though.

He grew on me only recently because of reasons but most of the time I find him really annoying.

(Jokes aside, I have mixed feelings about him and find it hard to figure him out. But I kinda love him because regardless of his flaws/annoying traits.)

Favorite line: Couldn’t quote but when he shows positive emotions. That he cares, or that he feels for something. The reunion with Shanks at Marineford was really cool. Him doing the “right thing” too.

brOTP: Shanks. Shanks, Shanks, Shanks. Who else? He’s so insufferable. Who would put up with him if not Shanks? Also Roger’s Pirates shenanigans. I don’t like Buggy’s crew much.

OTP: Okay, mined territory here ahah. I’m half Buggy/Shanks and half Buggy/Doflamingo. And I’ll forever gleefully blame @glooumnastas for that. Because his stunning fanart here started it all. That, right there, was the birth of my (our?) One Piece Fashion AU idea, where Buggy and Doffy are models and rivals in the same agency. They start as friends with benefits and journalists find out so they have to fake date. They’re probably not the end game as their relationship is pretty twisted (it’s Doffy AND Buggy after all) but yeah. They have something together that really appeals to me. Buggy/Shanks is sweet and safe though? Full of banter and vicious denial. And maybe a bit of hurt feelings still? Things to work out for sure.

nOTP: It’s starting to show I guess but I’m not much of a shipper for the sake of shipping (that ace flag ain’t decoration). I rarely look for ships when I read, so... Not sure if Buggy/Roger could be a thing but yeah, ships like that, not for me.

Random headcanon: Guess I gave you a taste with that whole Fashion AU but I’ve got more. So much more. Buggy wore a hat in his youth: he was bullied because of his hair color. I think he inherently is a good person (he wouldn’t have been on Roger’s crew if he wasn’t). He just doesn’t foster/show that side of him much (and it’s a pity). He’s perpetually angry at himself for feeling things. Yeah, I headcanon him like that, with a whole armor of spite because he’s scared of himself and of admitting he has the right to feel. Making choices for himself (when life pretty much accommodates to him all by itself), taking responsibilities for his actions and being held accountable are his worst nightmares. (self projecting much?)

Unpopular opinion: Again, forever out of loop on the possibly existing drama. But I want a Buggy redemption arc of sorts? Him joining Luffy’s fleet or something, to honour Roger’s memory or because Shanks bullied him (just a little push really) into doing it.

Song I associate with him: For the One Piece Fashion AU, Half Light by BANNERS stuck out recently because of the lyrics (especially “It makes me feel nervous / You have that look in your eye / Oh, what takes over? / What is it that holds you tight?” and “When you’re in the half-light, I don’t like the half I see”).

Thanks Anon for choosing him!

Done for the Character Ask: Brook, Shakky, Buggy. Awaiting: Marco, Law, Bon Clay, Rayleigh and Ace!

#answering #buggy the clown #long post #character ask

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chinatea · 4 years

Text

Jikook Sexy Alien AU Part 1

Personas are a product of @satellite-jeon ‘s beautiful mind.

This is WIP and still pretty drafty, and I’ll be posting new parts to tumbler as I finish them. I’m planning 4-5 parts overall.

For my best girl @kmheart <3333 Thank you for loving this mess. <333

Warnings: Coarse language.

Jungkook doesn’t know exactly when his life took a dive from awesome to downright shitty.

And even if he did, he wouldn’t be telling that story any time soon ‘cause no one gives a rat’s arse about good ol’ boy Jungkook who scrubs pools for a living.

It didn’t start that way. In high school, he was a local superstar. The golden jock. The whole fucking trope, baby. With titties of all caliber following him everywhere. Boy did love him some pussy. Dicks, too. He loved everything to do with sex, drugs and rock’n’roll.

He believed himself invincible and it was only a matter of time before he mingled with the wrong crowd. Only back then, he thought of them as friends. His bros for life.

Well.

Now, he cleans pools - the only kind of gig he can scrounge up nowadays, what with a criminal record and whatnot - and trusts no bro.

And when he’s not cleaning pools, he’s stuck at the garage being bossed around by a dirtbag who happens to be his uncle. His uncle, Sunmu, hates his guts - one of those stupid homophobic fucks who can’t mind their own fucking business. Needless to say, no love lost.

As much as Jungkook wants to punch his stupid teeth out - what’s left of them anyhow - he needs the money and it’s not like his uncle can do much more than run his smelly farthole of a mouth. Which he does. At lengths. The dude just never shuts up. Until one day, Jungkook made him shut up - even his golden-boy patience has its limits. And the dude blew up, called the police, the neighbors came a-running, the whole nine yards.

One hell of a shitshow, that night.

So now, Jungkook has taken to bringing guys to fuck in his garage instead. Totally intentional. He knows the geezer, like the sick fuck he is, had cameras installed all over for his own perverse pleasure. So Jungkook lets him enjoy it while he can.

‘Cause once the summer ends, Jungkook will burn down his fucking shack and hit the road, because he’s this close to being done with the shitfucks that are hell bent on ruining his life.

Another day. Another mindless grind.

Luckily for him, the client has vacated the house for the day, leaving their big pool in his capable hands. A much welcome break from those rich fucks being all smug and pissy and all up in his grill about every little nothing.

Rich tits always think they know everything.

Not to mention their shitty kids running around, destroying his equipment and yapping his ear off. Or worse yet, their old haggy wives flashing their saggy tits at him - goodness gracious, does his face say he’s into wrinkled-ass pussy or something?

He thinks the fuck not.

Jungkook plops down on a deck chair and pops a can of coke open, taking a long chug. When he doesn’t have people looming over his ass, he prefers taking things slow. At his own pace. That’s what he’s all about.

As much as he could wrap things up faster and call it a day, he’s not looking forward to trudging back to the garage. Sunmu the dipshit would be there, of course, nagging at him with this shit or that and he’d rather chill out here - the house is off-limits, locked tight, but the scenery is gorgeous. The house sits on a cliff, with the pool area overlooking the city below.

It’s private and quiet and damn therapeutic. Like, he could just close his eyes and pretend it’s all his. That he’s not a broke-ass dude about to keel over any day now, but someone who is in control of his life.

And he does just that. Closes his eyes and leans back, cradling the coke to his chest like one does a lover.

Mind blank of any thought.

The sky above crackles in warning, too close for comfort. And it wakes up goosebumps along his skin as he jostles awake from his little moment of inner peace. His hands flap around, knocking his coke over - it drips all over his tank top.

Nice, Jungkook thinks.

Of-fucking-course, it must rain today of all days. He scrambles up to his feet, ready to start hauling all the gear back into his truck when IT happens.

At first, he is not even sure what IT even is. One moment, he’s one grouchy mess, spewing dozens of profanities at no one in particular while tugging at his stained top in a retarded attempt to shake the mess off. And the next-

Something, fairly massive and spherical, materializes a few inches above the pool before plunging into water like a dead weight. Jungkook can only manage an undignified squawk before the impact wave sends him flying into the thorny shrubs framing the pool.

Mother-fucker.

When he drags his ass back from the shrubs, drenched from head to toe and covered in scratches, all he knows is that his stained shirt is the least of his problems now, because this…

What the fuck is this? he thinks, staring agog at the offender, hogging the pool now.

It looks like…something.

Maybe a futuristic car or a flying vessel of some sort. He has no clue, really. What it is or where it came from, but it’s here, right in his face, obstructing his work. Like a bastard.

He’ll have to call up a tow truck or something to pluck this sucker out, which will take forever and there go his plans for Friday night out.

Jungkook walks around the pool, inspecting the strange contraption from all sides. It’s slick and round and very, very chrome. Perhaps - a submarine. Some ultra-slick technology with masking abilities. Which apparently can fly, but not very well, otherwise, how the fuck it’d ended up stuck in his pool.

Those rich fucks and their stupid malfunctioning toys, eh.

Jungkook sighs and kicks the empty coke can lying about. It flies off towards the pod, ricocheting right off its shiny cask with a sharp clank. And now he has even more trash to dredge up from the puddle bellow. What joy.

As he is about to roll over and wail in self-pity, the pod wakes up with a tremor, sending shallow ripples over the water. Jungkook freezes, frantically thinking over his choices - his gut reaction is to hightail the fuck out of here, because the thing is starting to show signs of life and it doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, not one bit.

He better scram and scram fast. Fuck the money and his uncle - especially his uncle - no one told him scrubbing pools involved close encounters of the third kind.

He makes to do just that but doesn’t make it too far as he bumps into someone, loosing his balance and sending them both to the ground. With a groan, he opens his eyes to stare at the unfortunate soul who had to bear the brunt of the fall on their- his.

It’s definitely a he. A he so stunning Jungkook’s jaw goes slack and his brain radio-silent. Meanwhile, the he doesn’t waste any time making the most of their proximity as he slithers his hands around Jungkook’s neck and presses against him in a soft sweet kiss.

A supernova goes off at the back of his skull.

It was awesome.

“Hello,” the other says, a quality to his voice that is out of this world. He must be out of this world, because how?

“I’m Jimin.”

“Hi,” Jungkook says.

A dumb grin takes over his face.

He’s tingly all over. He thinks he’s in love.

“You’re gorgeous, Jimin-ah. Will you marry me?”

“Marry?” Jimin says tentatively as if testing the word on his tongue. His lips are pretty and full, forming a perpetual pout. It’s adorable. “I can’t marry. I need to mate.”

“Oh.” That throws Jungkook for a loop, as his heart swells with emotion. “Mate who?”

“You,” Jimin smiles. “Serendipity has chosen you as the most suitable candidate within this quadrant of our galaxy. We’re compatible.”

“Wow,” Jungkook whispers. He understands jack shit, but it does feel like serendipity, doesn't it. Just a moment ago, he was one miserable son of a bitch and now…he’s the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole fucking quadrant of their galaxy.

“You do know I’m scrubbing pools for a living, right?”

He props himself up on his hands, hovering over the gorgeous Jimin and eyeing him like a candy on a stick. Jimin has pretty dainty hands. They are always in motion, feelings up Jungkook’s arm muscles, bulging all prettily just for him - this shameless little minx.

“I know everything about you,” Jimin says, his voice washing over Jungkook’s mind like a gentle summer tide.

Turns his brain all mush-mush.

“Every second of your waking moment. Every dream, every thought you’ve had. Serendipity has shown me all of it.”

Whomever this Serendipity is, Jungkook hopes it didn’t show every single thought he had. After a certain age, they’d gotten rather repetitive and tended to fixate mostly on things below the belt - which is not the image of himself he wants to project into this world.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jimin purrs, tapping his temple lightly.

His hands wind up in Jungkook’s hair, massaging the scalp and down his neck. His touches are flitting, almost shy and it kindles longing in Jungkook like never before. It tramples all of the questions budding in his head. Melting reason away. Before he knows they’re kissing again and it plays out like a dream.

He’s doing something, but he’s not really in control. It feels good. Peaceful, he’s in a safe place. Jimin’s touches are weightless and tender as he maps out his body with the very tips of his fingers.

Like he can reach everywhere - can touch anywhere.

The moment something prods his mind, gentle and soothing - akin to a light breeze caressing the leaves - Jungkook shivers. Falls under. A feeling like no other. Floating, like a little air bubble.

It’s gone as sudden as it came and Jungkook finds himself yearning.

“We can’t do it here,” Jimin says as they both move upright in sync. He grabs Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s go. Serendipity will have to stay here for now.”

“Serendipity?” Jungkook asks, shaking off the drowsiness as his brain slowly kicks back into gear. “You mean that pod thing?”

“Don’t call her ‘a thing’,” Jimin chides. “She has feelings. Quite a temper, too.”

“Damn, a she-pod with feelings”.

They’re standing now with Jimin plastered against his chest and nuzzling his mighty pec. Not awkward at all.

“She’s a ship. The most intelligent ship in the whole galaxy. Completely self-aware,” Jimin says, exploring the vastness of Jungkook’s chest with his curious palms now. Jungkook starts to notice a certain obsession here of a tactile nature, but can’t find it in himself to complain. “Be kind to her.”

“I am kind,” Jungkook says. “I’m like...wait, who are you?”

“I’m Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “But what kind of Jimin are you? Where did you come from? You’re not with the Joneses here, are you?”

With the burden of rational thinking, Jungkook slumps into a realization that he has questions. And he must ask them.

“No, I’m from space,” Jimin says like it’s not big deal. “We need to go,” he commands, taking charge and dragging Jungkook along.

“Space? Wow,” Jungkook says. “That’s, ah, nice, I guess. Never been myself, what with the radiation and minus fuck-ton degrees, you know. Transportation kinda sucks, too. I don’t know if you’re aware but we’re kinda still in the stone age or whatever, but, ehm...remember when I was lying on top of you, with our private parts perfectly aligned? That was nice too, wanna, ehm, do that again?”

“Here is not safe,” Jimin says and at least, it’s not a no. “Serendipity can hide herself well enough, but it’s a matter of time before he tracks me down. And if that happens, I don’t want him to track me down right next to her.”

“Who’s he?”

“Just a man who never gives up what’s his.”

“You mean, like, ex-boyfriend?” Jungkook asks, swallowing down an annoying spike of jealousy. “Do you even have boyfriends in space?”

“I meant Serendipity, not me,” Jimin says. “And yes, we do have boyfriends up there in space. You don’t have to worry though, he’s been mated for the past five hundred years. He’s that boring.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle.

“If his mate looks anything like you, that’s understandable.”

#jikook #jikook au #personas au

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tvfanatic · 4 years

Text

Caramel and Cheddar

She hates O’Hare. She hates landing at a gate in Concourse L and having her connecting flight leave out of Concourse G when she only has a 20-minute layover without delays from her first flight. She hates being stuck there for three-hour layovers, and after sitting at a gate in Concourse K for that entire time, looking up to find the flight boarding at this gate is headed to Atlanta and her flight is now leaving out of Concourse H, causing her to sprint to the other area of the terminal and nearly miss her flight because no one bothered to announce the gate change since she was there three hours early.

You would think it’d be easier to get a direct flight from New York to California. But the holiday prices to fly from JFK to LAX round trip? Not worth it. Flying into San Diego is so much closer to home too. Until she ends up at a layover in O’Hare right before Christmas and she curses at herself for not booking a direct to LA earlier and just driving a rental car the nearly two hours down to Neptune.

Something else she hates about O’Hare? About Chicago? Snowstorms. Blizzards. Yeah they happen in New York, and her California born-and-raised self does not fare well in them there either. But the New York blizzards have yet to leave her stranded in an airport on the 23rd of December. She hadn’t left right after finals because she was determined to get ahead at her internship and get her foot in the door at this law firm after graduation next spring. She’d managed to impress one of the partners, but at what cost? Potentially spending Christmas Eve, and even Christmas if they can’t get the ice off the runways fast enough, at the airport? Or alone in some airport hotel?

Why was leaving sunny, summery California such a good idea again?

Veronica groans inwardly at the thought, standing up to throw away her now empty coffee cup. Her hand brushes against someone else’s at the trash can and she looks up to apologize, not expecting to see him standing there. Let alone him standing there dressed in pristine military whites. The Navy, that’s right, that’s what she’d heard.

Of all the snowed in airports in all of the world, of all the stupid concourses in this damn airport, and he ends up at hers.

“Logan,” she breathes.

He looks good. Damn good. He should wear that uniform and only that forever. Although she wouldn’t complain if he was shirtless.

Stop, Veronica. Don’t go there. Not again.

“Veronica Mars,” he whistles. “As I live and breathe.”

She hasn’t seen him since he was punching out the son of a very prominent mob member in the Hearst cafeteria for her. She hasn’t spoken to him since. But she’s thought about him plenty.

“Are you on the flight to San Diego?” she asks. “The one that I’m 99% sure is about to be cancelled.”

He nods. “Dick and I had plans to avoid the holidays together. I’m assuming you’re going back to spend them with your dad?”

It’s her turn to nod. “Where are you stationed right now?”

“Right here in Chicago. Hence the uniform. Came to the airport straight from a work function and didn’t have time to change. Although now, I guess I could have made time for it. You’re in New York now, right?”

She nods again. “Yeah, at Columbia.”

“Veronica Mars as a lawyer,” he smirks. “I should have seen that one coming.”

“Logan Echolls as a military man,” she parrots back his phrasing. “Not something I saw coming.”

He laughs at that, gestures back toward their gate. “Want to wait out this inevitable flight cancellation together?”

“Sure,” she smiles. “Let me grab my stuff.”

Veronica brings her carry-on over to where Logan has positioned himself at a seat near the window. The snow is coming down in big, fat flakes and the infamous Chicago wind is whipping it around creating white-out conditions. She’s afraid to even flag down a taxi in this.

“It always fascinates me that the weather can manage to do this here and yet California is stuck in a perpetual drought for most of the year,” he says when she sits down next to him.

“I’d barely seen snow until I moved to New York. I’m not sure that I like it.”

He laughs again and she realizes just how much she’s missed that sound.

“A true California girl at heart, huh?”

“Apparently so.”

“Think you’ll move back after you graduate?” he asks, looking over at her.

She takes her eyes off of the swirling storm outside and meets his gaze. She sees their past etched into his familiar features. It hurts. Maybe her feelings for him never truly managed to go away.

“I don’t know. I’ve been busting my ass at this internship trying to get a job offer from the partners. That’s why I’m traveling so close to Christmas. But if that doesn’t work out, who knows where I’ll end up.”

“What kind of law firm is it?”

“They’re defense attorneys.”

“Huh. Always thought you’d end up at the other table. The prosecution taking the criminals down.”

“How quickly they forget,” she teases. “After everything I’ve done to help clear your name in the past? To clear Weevil’s? Hell, Abel Koontz?”

“You think Weevil and Koontz could afford someone as high-powered as you?”

“Who said I was high-powered? I’m just a lowly law student kissing ass to get a job.”

He laughs again, turning away to look back out at the snowfall. “You look good, Veronica. You seem good.”

Is she though? Good? Is she happy with the way her life has turned out in their years apart?

“I’m okay, I guess. School and work are pretty much all I have time for anymore. I ran into Piz last week, I guess he lives out in New York now too. He asked if I wanted to get coffee after the holidays were over to catch up. I’m not sure that I want to.”

She doesn’t know why she just did that, why she brought Piz up. Is she trying to subtly hint that she’s single? Why would he care? Why does she?

“How long did you two last?” Logan asks softly.

“The summer,” she shrugs. “I broke up with him before I moved to Stanford. I should have done it sooner though. We were never compatible to begin with.”

“Less compatible than the two of us?”

She looks back over at him and he’s still not looking at her. “Compatibility was never our problem.”

He turns his head back to meet her gaze. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, trying to read each other in the old way they used to be able to do.

“Right,” he finally sighs, turning away first.

She doesn’t know what he means by that. She also in no way wants to start a fight with him right now.

“You look good too, Logan,” she tells him instead, her voice quiet. “The uniform suits you.”

“Thank you.”

His mood has already shifted. Why did she bring up Piz? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m sorry,” she says, staring straight ahead at the never-ending blanket of whiteness outside the window. “For everything.”

He doesn’t say anything, but instead slips her hand into his and squeezes before letting go and pushing himself to his feet.

“I’m going to go talk to the gate agent. See if they know how long this storm is supposed to last.”

“Okay,” is all she manages to say before he’s walking away.

It’s not like she expects anything to happen from this encounter. Eventually they’ll both get on a plane to San Diego. He’ll be in first class; she’ll be in coach. Her dad will pick her up at the airport. Dick might give him a ride, or he’ll just take some car service to take him wherever it is he’s meeting Dick. Their paths might across again while they’re in Neptune. But after New Year’s, she’ll go back to her life in New York and he’ll go back to his life in Chicago. Nothing is supposed to come from this chance airport encounter.

But the way she wishes he was the ex running into her in New York and asking her out to coffee sometime instead of Piz – the ways she’s wished on more than one occasion that she hadn’t left Neptune without saying goodbye or without cutting him completely out of her life. They were friends once. They were in love once. And she’s never felt that way about anybody since.

Logan shuffles back over. “So, surprise, our flight is cancelled. They’re just about to announce it. They’re waiting to rebook until the storm passes.”

“So, we’re stuck here for an indeterminant amount of time?”

“Looks that way,” he sighs. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be out driving during this. Or at least they shouldn’t be. At least they’re leaving all the restaurants open. It’s not like the employees can get home any easier than we can.”

Did she mention that she hates O’Hare?

“You hungry?” he asks. “Nuts on Clark has got the best caramel cheddar popcorn.”

“Caramel cheddar?” she asks back.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. It’s a delicious combination. I think you’ll like it.”

“If we’re stuck here for hours on end, I’m going to need more than popcorn.”

“We’ll do a food tour of the concourse, then.”

He extends an arm to her and she accepts it, looping her arm through his.

“It’s probably not the right time or place for this, but uh, I’ve missed you,” he says, guiding her down the hallway of the concourse.

She looks up at him, the cut of his jawline, thinks about the way she used to tease him by kissing her way around his jaw before he’d grab her face and pulls her lips to his.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Maybe she hates O’Hare. But maybe Chicago and blizzards aren’t so bad after all.

#veronica mars #logan echolls #vmfanfic #VMTAP20 #veronica mars fanfic #veronica mars fanfiction #mine #oliviet #prompt #trapped by weather

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ghostmartyr · 5 years

Text

SnK 123 Thoughts

#spoilers

You know, I, for one, am not shocked. From an outside view, our options were Eren going through all this trouble to fix everything once and for all with a genius solution that only works with grand forbidden power--

--or Eren continuing to make everything worse.

His most enduring strategy has involved making everything worse.

I’m not mocking him. That honestly seems to be the point.

What’s interesting is how unhappy he seems about all of this. He’s angry when his dad needs him to step in to wipe out the Reiss family. In the aftermath, he’s despondent. He takes Armin’s punches and insults Mikasa. He allies himself with Zeke but makes no effort to build their relationship. He goes out and cries over all the things he’s about to do, but he still does them.

That’s the part of all this that seems strange to me. Eren finally losing to the pressure of being Paradis’ hope is a depressing storyline, but not that weird. Burning everything to the ground because that’s the only way he can see out anymore is something that I can see coming from an Eren who’s taken one too many hits. Sometimes something essential cracks. Sometimes people break, and when the storm that shatters them comes free, there’s nothing left to hold it back.

Only Eren’s relentless adherence to his goal doesn’t seem to be something he’s happy about. He doesn’t lose his stress lines the entire chapter, except when Mikasa brings him ice cream. I don’t think he’s had a scene without them since the time skip.

He can see the future. He makes it to Marley, and all he can do is stare at all the people. Alive.

Eren knows what he is going to do. He goes out alone his last night with his friends and cries about it. There is no appearance of this being something that he wants. The only thing that’s seemed to resonate properly since he left everyone is Willy’s declaration that they were born into this world.

He spends one last night with his friends, and leaves them forever.

This is not someone who is so far gone that this is it. This is what fixes everything. That might be where he gets the energy for all of it, but his last honest moment with anyone seems to be asking Mikasa why she cares about him.

Even by Eren’s current standards, he does not look good when he asks.

"Why is it... that you care so much about me?”

What value does Eren have as a person? Who is he? Who does the person who has been most obvious in her affection for him see?

That’s how this chapter opens. With Mikasa asking herself that question.

“But maybe that’s wrong. Eren hasn’t changed one bit from the start. If that’s who Eren truly was all along... what part of him... had I been seeing?”

Eren is someone who can kill children. He can take advantage of his friends’ love and dedication and manipulate it so they have no choice but to cooperate. He can throw his entire country’s desperate hopes to find a new solution out by leaving the room without discussion.

Before that step, he stands by himself and cries. And asks someone who loves him why she even cares. What creates this bond that the future he sees has him destroy.

Over eighty chapters ago, someone else tries to ask someone they love this question. They also get the wrong answer back.

“I mean… I decided to join the Survey Corps on my own. But… you didn’t, right? Back then… you chose the Survey Corps… Because I...” “Because what?! Huh?! Are you saying I joined for your sake?!”

“Then why are you here right now? If you don’t have a reason, then just start running...”

“Why… Why would you do that much for me? Does it have… something to do with my family?” “Yeah. It does.” --37, Krista and Ymir

That saga has its own tragedy, and here we repeat the refrain that causes the most miscommunication; that simple inability to admit the vulnerability of caring for another person by choice and happenstance.

Eren asks why. He wants a direct answer. He frames it first by going through the excuses. He saved her. They’re family. She’s said it often enough.

But is that it? Is that all that sums up her link to Eren? Is it just circumstance?

What is it that Mikasa values in him?

Mikasa can’t tell him the full truth. It’s too much for her to admit. So of course that, when the world is falling to pieces, is what lingers. That last moment of honesty she has with Eren, and she can’t make herself tell him any of the truths that maybe could have stopped this.

There’s no logical reason to think it would have, but Mikasa wonders for, I think, the same reason Eren asks at all.

Is there something valuable enough in Eren that just being Eren is enough?

Can something that isn’t the big picture and humanity and everything--can he find stable ground in that?

The answer was probably always going to be no. Eren’s been beyond friendship speeches for longer than I think any of his friends want to contemplate. But the picture Eren paints is someone who wants to be reminded of his humanity before he throws it away.

Mikasa, hearing that now, knows she couldn’t do that in that moment.

There is a very clear line following Eren through his decisions, but the logic of why he’s picked them is still missing. If the thread of him simply wanting destruction is to be followed, you find his obvious unhappiness whenever he’s confronted with what he’s about to do. If he truly believes he’s doing the right thing, why isn’t he sharing the strategy with Armin, or Hange, or Levi, or any of the people he’s already waded through blood with?

What is so important about Eren doing this, and why is it so important that he does this alone?

The Zero Requiem strategy demands that Eren be the villain of this piece, and he’s playing that part well, but there’s no stable end in this version. He’s simply antagonized both sides to the point of loud voices chanting for genocide.

Framing Paradis as the villain could arguably be the point, but Eren’s firmest declaration about why he’s doing all this is directed at other descendants of Ymir. The only ones who know he’s willing to slaughter the world for Paradis are the people who are already dealing with everyone hating them because of this one damn island.

The state of the world is not such that you can have the good Eldians in one corner and the bad Eldians in another.

Focusing on the island has been the rule of the land for a while, and it’s helped nothing. All Eren has done is bring yet another titan-led wave of destruction down on everyone, reminding them why the hatred started.

Really, the case that Eren’s doing this for precisely the reasons he says he is is the one that makes the most sense, and so we come back to him having clear problems with his own idea.

Additionally, while there are going to be those Eldians who are psyched about everyone else being dead, there are probably going to be more who are traumatized and horrified, so at the end of all the stomping, you’re just going to wind up with different groups of people in wars.

This doesn’t solve anything.

Like Liberio, it’s a bloodbath with the main accomplishment being that more people think Eren should be taken out.

Getting as many people to hate him as possible is the only consistent result of everything Eren has done.

Which is nice, since that suggests that maybe there’s some kind of logic buried under all of this.

Except the aim of making everything worse has only succeeded in making everything worse.

So. Like.

Everything’s worse.

Make everything worse.

Worser.

More worser.

The worstest.

Things are now worse.

Congratulations on a successful plan.

This is why Armin is usually stuck with this.

I can’t even be properly upset that Eren’s setting loose the rumbling, because something is clearly still missing. Not to be a broken record, but we’ve got unseen flashbacks with Historia and our little pickpocket, and Historia’s the only named character permitted to be featured listening to Eren without her face visible.

This after 108 made a big show of pointing out how strangely inconvenient the timing of the pregnancy was. Unless having Zeke alive mattered to someone.

As previously discussed, that adds to the worser pile, clearly making it relevant.

So yay, Eren has succeeded in setting himself up as The Worst.

Now we wait for why while an undetermined number of people are sacrificed to whatever unholy abomination of a strategy this qualifies as.

...Yeah, that’s all I’ve got.

Oh, wait.

This part was good.

This too.

It’s a curious chapter. There’s so much light and joy in pieces, and everywhere we look we see reminders of why these are the people we’ve rooted for. Levi won’t let a pickpocket get lynched, even if it causes their cover issues. Mikasa’s eyes sparkle at ice cream. Armin’s excited to be out in the world.

They party with a group of people they don’t have a language in common with. It’s that easy.

All of that still exists, so what is it that makes this the logical next step?

Why introduce so many devastating cycles only to keep them going? Why would someone--several someones--actively opposed to perpetuating this kind of violence settle on a plan that loops a new one around?

The only answer I can come up with is that this isn’t the final word on what’s going on.

So, in keeping with the chart...

The worse continues.

To the secret better.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 123 #Eren Yeager #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post

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sonicfanj · 4 years

Text

Sonic Ring Bond - THE EYES OF THE WORLD - Chapter 1

I’ve finally finished writing chapter 1 for the first story I’m writing for the Sonic Ring Bond AU and I have it here for everyone to read! Hooray \”(^o^)”/ Now this is my first real time though trying to write Sonic fan fiction so I would really appreciate all of the feedback everyone is willing to offer ^^ I'd really appreciate it to be honest! For now though, enjoy, and please share your thoughts here, on DeviantArt, or share them on my Sonic Ring Bond Discord Server - https://discord.gg/aVjNUyG . Thank you everyone \"(^o^)"/ Now before we get started though a big shout out to @cutegirlmayra for writing the first story in the Sonic Ring Bond AU (Read it here) and being a huge inspiration for this one with her wonderful Sonic stories. I know you don't read others' fan fiction, but I would still love your feedback regardless. Thank again though for all of the help getting the AU off the ground \"(^o^)"/

And now please join me everyone and enjoy...

Current Status: Done – Open Draft Draft No.: 2 Story Idea: SonicFanJ – Inspired by Cutegirlmayra Main Author: SonicFanJ Secondary Author(s): None Currently Story Expanding Author(s): None Currently Editor(s): None Currently – Open for feedback

Chapter Number: 1 Chapter Title: Anxiety of a Rose Primary Chapter Author: SonicFanJ Secondary Chapter Author(s): None Currently Chapter Idea: SonicFanJ

Chapter Synopsis: Amy “Rosy the Rascal” Rose, wakes from a nightmare about Metal Sonic and finds a sudden global shift setting her off on the start of an adventure. But a continuous chill from her tarot cards leave her feeling uneasy and she finds herself investigating the growing dread and prophetic nature of her dream.

-----

At the heart of the world, binding an ever-changing surface together and allowing civilization to hold any form at all are none other than the Golden Rings. Appearing spontaneously like some landmasses appear and disappear, the loops of golden hue spin in perpetual motion wherever they do appear, just like the masses of land of the world also constantly shift and give rise to new adventures. In this untamed world what few cities exists are joined more often than not by ancient ill understood technology that turns Rings into a gateway between two set locations rather than the whim of the Rings. Such whimsey was fine to the adventurers of Checkpoint, the most successful and famous adventuring supporting company, as they had access to a beacon that would always turn their Ring Gates home. As such, the joining of the world brought about by the Rings made them things of unmatched value, and though not all could see them, all felt their effects. Many even made their living gathering them for the government and adventuring companies who used them. One such adventurer, a hedgehog girl of pink hue even dreamed of them much as she would rather dream of running with the speed she was gifted through a bond forged by the Rings, the Ring Bond.

The dreaming pink hedgehog girl was known far and wide as Rosy the Rascal, for both her perpetual good cheer and optimism as well these days her tendency to find trouble. As it was, Rosy was finding trouble even in her dreams. It was not lush meadows she ran through with Rings dangling in the air in various rows and patterns spinning freely on their axes waiting for her to collect them but rather a field of endless darkness devoid of any Rings. All save one. A ring of pitch-black hue which spun on its axis ominously, seeming to slow the longer she rested her eyes upon its malevolent form. But her blue eyes which matched the hedgehog of her dreams in hue were not the only eyes within her dream, as soon two very familiar “eyes” of red light glared out at her from within the Black Ring. The intensity of the glare upon her made her desire to retreat overwhelming, to flee as far her legs would take her, reaching for speeds nearing that of sound itself. But her body was like gelatin and the pull of the Black Ring left her both without life and strength. She could only stare into it and the eyes that hid within its twirling form as she lay helplessly in the dark. But she refused to give in, to give up. If she could just take her eyes off of the Black Ring, she could wake from this nightmare. Alas, even the darkness above offered her no refuge for seven emerald eyes opened from within the dark and looked down upon her, almost pleading her to save them as they threatened to consume her and her world before even the Black Ring did. But neither the owner of those seven eyes or the Black Ring would consume the world for her blue hedgehog hero would save the day. Now if only it was Sonic the Hedgehog himself and not his robotic doppelganger, Metal Sonic, who crushed the Black Ring in his claw like hand and scattered the eyes with a swipe of the other. All save one which he took firmly in hand before glaring back over his shoulder at where Rosy lay helpless. There was strangely an emotion in the machine’s eyes, but she could not make it out as the one remaining emerald eye looked at her with a desperation for release that made her shudder with its terror.

–|–

Rosy’s shuddering shook loose the black soil from her quills and it dusted down her eyes, her eyelashes trying to playfully resist the waterfall before her eyes snapped open and tossed the soil away. Rosy was wide awake now but blinked a few times before trying to move as she felt horribly pinned as she lay on her belly and chin. It was not an uncomfortable pinning however and if she were not so shaken from her dream she would have fought to curl up and return to her slumber. As it was, her cheeks puffed up as she pouted before complaining with a high-pitched voice that was pleasantly soft and cheerful.

“Hmm! Why did I dream about Metal Sonic! If I was going to dream about Sonic, why couldn’t it have been something romantic with the real Sonic! We could have been running together along the beach and holding hands and – Eee!” Squealing with delight Rosy held her balled hands to her reddening face as she rolled over and kicked her legs playfully.

Just as her dreams of Metal Sonic ruined her sleep, Rosy’s daydreaming about Sonic ruined any last chance she had of returning comfortably to sleep. Her sudden twisting had dislodged the sides of the bed of soil she had been lying in and she found herself with more weight on her body than she preferred as only her head and feet stuck out of the soil pile she lay at the bottom of. A cute frown turned her expression into an inverted smile, and she remembered where it was she had settled in for the night. Again, her thoughts drifted from a Sonic to a complaint.

“Ooo! Soil beds are so comfy with the right soil, but they’re such a mess!” Straining her head back Rosy took in the burrow she had fallen asleep in for the night and couldn’t help but laugh at the dissonance of the soil she lay in contrasting the brick and mortar wall which hid a shower and wardrobe beyond ornate yet cute wooden doors of circular shape. ‘But how lucky am I to find a hotel that caters to so many different peoples at once! Hehehe! Normally I’d have to stay longer to clean up the mess I make in a regular room to save the wait staff some trouble, but I can’t help it if I find a loose nest more comfortable than a bed. Though I guess pillows and bedding are less trouble than a soil nest. But it feels so nice!’

With a happy sigh that was almost a contented snort through her nose Rosy finally extracted herself from the nest she had made in the loose soil of the unusual hotel room. Standing up she stretched her arms well above her head and stiffened and relaxed her quills a few times to try and shake as much of the soil out of her quills as she could. It was a valiant effort, but she soon enough emerged from the hidden shower with a hotel bathrobe wrapped around her and joined her happy humming with the bird song filtering in with the morning light from well-hidden sun lights. A big smile on her face she let the filtered in light guide her eyes to the wardrobe and playfully tossed the circular double door aside to reveal a leotard of pretty white color hanging within. Her smile grew ever greater accompanied by her wanderlust as she looked at the garment that she always wore as she went adventuring like her hero.

“Hehehe,” she laughed to herself nearly as much as swooned at the prospect of putting it on and setting out in search of the day’s adventure. She managed to control herself though and simply reached for one of the shoulder puffs that served as the garment’s sleeves. Reaching inside she carefully extracted a small waterproof container that seemed like it might be uncomfortable to store withing while wearing. “Can’t give in to my desires though until I see what you have to say about the day first.”

Talking to a deck of tarot cards might have seemed unusually to most, but to Rosy they were her oldest friends and deserved as much care as all of her sapient friends. They had even led her to her first encounter with Sonic the Hedgehog and had proven their loyalty and being deserving of hers. Not that she had not been on many an adventure before then with them helping her make Fang the Sniper’s treasure hunts most lucrative.

“I wonder where he went after our last meeting. We didn’t even get to talk after not seeing each other for so long.” The pleasant memories her tarot card case was bringing her were pushed aside as she pondered aloud about the wellbeing of the jerboa-wolf hybrid who had taken her from her tiny little adventures into her first real ones. He was so kind to her, and she could not understand why people distrusted him so much. As far as she could remember he was as under attack by Metal Sonic as she and Sonic had been in their last meeting, so he obviously was not bad. “I wonder what he was doing on Angel Island though. I hope he didn’t hear that there was treasure there. Poor Fang, Knuckles would have punched him in the nose without a second thought. I guess it was almost a good thing Metal Sonic – Kyaa⁈”

A sudden jolt brought Rosy’s musings to an end with a cry as her hand grew freezing cold and numb all at once, her tarot card case falling to the ground. “Ah!”

Pulling her suddenly very cold and very numb hand to her chest Rosy reached for her cards with her other hand as the case hit the ground and bounced, the cards within sprung free from the impact and scattering about the room as the case spun. “Noooo~… I’m so sorry I didn’t mean–”

Involuntarily stopping mid-apology, a chill ran down Rosy’s spine and her quills quivered as she looked at the spilt cards upon the ground. She swallowed very slowly as she looked at the natural pattern they fell in. It was not a spread she was familiar with and she consciously felt she should not consider it a spread, but something told her that it was. But where would she even begin with such a painful looking expression looking back at her. It was so ominous that not one card had landed face up so as to give her even one clue on where to start, but the message of pain was obvious even without turning over a single card. Her cards allowed her to so accurately find treasure and know what the day ahead would hold, or maybe even give her a directive to follow, and it was unquestionable that the powers that influenced them were in untold pain. It reminded her almost of the eye from her dream, the pleading emerald eye.

“Gah!”

No sooner did she remember the eye Metal Sonic held mercilessly in her dream did the entire earth shift violently collapsing the entire hotel room burrow into the darkness below. The collapse of the room was as inward as it was downward and Rosy was soon buried along with her scattered cards. Fortunately, she was a hedgehog, though a sapient hedgehog, a hedgehog all the same and digging herself out was not outside of her ability. She was not as swift as would have been expected however as she took the time gather up her tarot cards and even change into her leotard and slipper like red shoes. There was suddenly an adventure to be had and it was necessary to dress the part.

“Ooh~! What a way to start the day!” The complaint was her announcement to the world that she had survived and was none the worse for wear, but the city she had been staying in could not say the same. Where she had been in a burrow off of a hotel, she now was in a widening gorge adorned with broken mine cart tracks and water and steam pipes that would have benefited the town above. Or at least partially still above as several brick and mortar buildings along with the wrought iron fence lined streets they rested on were also shifting down into the growing fissure. The entire land mass was transforming, which was not unusual at all for the world, but Rosy still puffed her cheeks up unamused while resting the backs of her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t ready to start an adventure yet! I was supposed to check today’s fortune first!”

As she chastised the fissure Rosy subconsciously reached up and rubbed her shoulder under the shoulder puff her cards had been returned to. In their presence her shoulder was growing cold and numb just like her fingertips after handling the cards. Though she was rubbing more to return warmth to her shoulder, it made it appear to any passing by that she might have been nursing an injury. “Miss, are you alright! We have enough room to lower a rescue team if you need help!”

“Hm?” Her voice lost to the sound of rushing wind, Rosy looked up to satiate her curiosity and saw the best airship that could be made with early industrial age technology hovering in the air, several propellers and wings helping keep it afloat as steam gushed out of several release vents. ‘How long was I gathering up my cards if there are already rescue ships flying around?’

The speaker who called out to Rosy from the deck of the airship was not capable of reading minds and Rosy cheerfully waved at the ship as she provided an audible response. “I’m fine! I don’t even need rescued!”

Running forward to the lip of the ledge she found herself on below the hotel, Rosy looked out at the fissure with greater focus. She smiled brightly and with anticipation as she saw Rings blink into being and saw the effect they had on the architecture within the fissure. Most notably she watched chunks of land simply start floating freely, revealing that there were Rings likely buried within sharing with the landmasses their penchant for floating. The sight brought a pleasant smile to her lips and she giggled aloud. “It’s just like a Ring Bond. Sharing a power with someone else and making them better. Just like Sonic did with me!

“Ooo~ I wonder how he does it. Maybe if I collect more Rings I’ll get a feel for it too!” With a nod Rosy clenched her fists up determinably beside her face before turning towards the much closer airship. “Really! I’m fine! I’m a Ring Hunter with Checkpoint so I’m going to go collect as many as I can right now! Everyone is going to need them to run the Ring Gate to bring in more supplies, right?”

“That’s true miss, but how? Do you see this gorge!”

“Just leave that to me! You go rescue people who aren’t as fortunate as I am!”

Turning away from the edge and the airship, Rosy made sure to spy one last look into the growing gorge from which giant mushrooms were starting to sprout. There was no guarantee that the landmass she settled on would still be there, but she just smiled as she walked away and pulled on the cuff of her glove so she could get a quick look at her palm within. Happy with what she saw she started running at a light pace with the non-essential crew of the airship piling up against the ship’s deck railing to see what was going on. The sight of a pink hedgehog girl though made the voice of one crew member rise up in surprise. “Wait! Is that Rosy the Rascal?”

“Who?”

“With Checkpoint! That hedgehog girl known for getting in trouble.”

“What type of trouble?”

“Forget that! She’s doing something weird!” Interrupting their crewmates one member of the airship’s crew squeezed forward beyond the deck railing to point at Rosy. Her running speed had increased tremendously, and she had gained quite a bit of ground on the airship before she leaned down hard and planted a hand against the ground bringing herself to a hard stop. Her arm strained to absorb her momentum and she leaned into a onehanded handstand in which she almost toppled over as her feet started moving fast enough to be indistinguishable from twirling ribbons of red straining to hold a figure eight shape. Twisting her wrist, Rosy forced herself to turn around and lowered her body back towards the ground and partially scrambled as she launched herself forward with restored traction. Her recovery was not seen by the crew at all though as she was gone in nearly a blink, but still not quite fast enough to generate a sonic boom. She had little concern though as she careened through the air with her arms out behind her.

“Wheee~~~~~!”

The joyous shout seemed completely inappropriate under the circumstances, but Rosy was known as a rascal and always sought out the best in any situation. The opening of the gorge was unexpected and completely destroyed the infrastructure of the mines that had been below the city but served Rosy well. Her leap needed a spot to land and she had chosen a stretch of mine cart railing that twisted through a loop-de-loop shape before a ramp that launched her even higher. She was so glad that Rings would burst into motes of light and be absorbed into her body at the slightest touch as otherwise there was no way she would be able to gather the Rings she passed at the speed she was traveling. A massive mushroom cap suddenly growing out in front of her ascent threatened to bring her to halt and she curled into a tight ball and spun at tremendous speeds allowing her to cut straight through the mushroom. It was not a flawless cut though and she flopped out and onto the top of the blue cap of the mushroom just as it absorbed the last of her momentum. “Achoo!”

“Yuck!” The disgust at her sneeze was laughed off as Rosy sat up and kept rolling forward onto her knees and hands. Before bracing to set off again though she rubbed at her itching nose and promptly sneezed even fiercer. “Eugh!”

Looking down at her hand Rosy recoiled from the sight of it covered in spores and ended up jumping to her feet in the process. As she moved back she got a clear look at herself, or would have if she hadn’t gained a full coat of fuzzy mushroom spores all over.” Ack! No~! I don’t want to be a mushroom girl!”

Trying her best to shake them off Rosy had no luck and turned to-and-fro looking around desperately! “Aha!”

The sight of gushing water from a likely broken water main rushing out of an exposed mine tunnel provided Rosy with her next destination and she wasted no time heading for it. As she skipped across springy mushroom caps and floating chunks of rock her lack of control over her speed started to become apparent, exacerbated by the mushroom spores that had no intention of releasing her even at the speeds she was traveling. The force of the waterfall as she finally reached it well below where she planed proved enough to finally wash them free and she took a moment under the water to make sure not one spore stuck to her. It was also a prime opportunity to wash the soil stains out of her leotard and restore its white color back to its normal vibrancy. When she finally stepped out of the waterfall though, she could not stop yet another sneeze from stopping her in her tracks.

“Aah~~~! If I keep sneezing my nose is going to get all sore and my face will get all puffy! I need to dry off! Except…,” trailing off Rosy looked about as she rubbed her arms and saw that the top of the gorge had grown quite a way above her. It would take her considerable effort to climb up and she was too clumsy with her speed to risk just running straight up the sheer cliff. Her best bet to get back into the morning sunlight appeared to be a cobblestone street in the distance that seemed to have tilted into the gulch turning the houses upon it quite lopsided. “I hope everyone is okay.”

Looking up Rosy could see plenty of rescue airships maneuvering through the growing mushroom forest and smiled believing they would get the job done. Holding her balled hands to her shoulders she nodded fiercely to herself and smiled brightly. “Right, I need to do my part too so everyone can fix everything when this shift finishes!”

Hyped up, Rosy used her speed to scramble as fast as she could while still being somewhat competent to make her way to the tilted street. Much as her footing was unsure though she forced herself to tap into more and more of the speed she possessed as the road started to fracture compromising her chance to get back into the sunlight. When one smaller mushroom cap slipped out from under her when she dried to dig in with a step she tumbled over and bounced off another mushroom cap and landed in a heap as she finally reached the road and tumbled a little ways further. Pouting heavily at her crash landing Rosy took no pleasure on reaching her destination though. ‘I can’t keep being clumsy like this. Sonic said I have to make his speed look cool if I’m going to use it. I’ll get all dirty again too. I’ve already taken two showers this morning and I don’t want to have to take another one already.’

“Um, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

Realizing she had tumbled right up against a house and had planted her butt on its wall as though she was seated on the ground, Rosy found herself looking up at a mother holding her child staring at her from an open window. A huge grin spread across Rosy’s face and she waved at the child before rolling over backwards and springing up to her feet. The mother and child stared amazed at Rosy’s acrobatic display and she laughed modestly.

“I just had a little spill is all, tee-hee! I’m fine though. But what about you two? And are your neighbors stuck here too? I don’t think it’s safe to stay here much longer.” Rosy’s good cheer quickly turned to concern as she walked back towards the window and looked around at all of the other houses on the street. The mother drew her attention back to the house before her though as she spoke up.

“I’ve heard rescue ships are coming but the mushrooms are growing so fast…”

“Don’t worry!” Surprising the mother and child both Rosy stepped forward and grabbed both of their hands as she shouted encouragingly. “I’ve seen the rescue ships making their way down and I have a flare on me too!”

Rosy pulled her hands back, running her fingers along the palms of the mother and child as she did, and reached up into her quills where sapient hedgehogs had a tendency to store things. After a moment of rummaging she pulled out the small fireworklike flare in her possession and smiled confidently as she showed it off. “See? I’ll go launch this so they know there are people here, but then I’ve got to go and collect more Rings. But just so you feel a little better…

“Here, have some Rings for yourself! They’ll keep you safe until the rescue ships get here!” With a drifting of motes of golden light, a few Rings appeared in Rosy’s hand and she offered them to the mother and child. As they tentatively took a hold of them Rosy smiled brightly. “Okay, I have to go now but don’t worry, I know you’ll be fine! I gave your palms a quick read and they say you’ll be just fine! Bye-bye now!”

Turning away with as much energy and good cheer as she arrived, Rosy hurried out to the road and launched the flare, a trail of pink smoke trailing the launched beckon. Not wanting to mess with the smoke trail and risk the lives of the people who were peeking out there windows at the flare, Rosy made sure to give herself some distance before following the road up the cliffside and into the sunlight. Even having to make some impressive leaps the road proved quite reliable and Rosy soon found herself on a separated bit of the cliff wall that had become an independent spire. It was the perfect place to dry off and warm up. Unfortunately, she could not enjoy the sunlight as something was very wrong.

“OW~!” Clutching at her shoulder where her tarot cards were stored within her sleeve, Rosy fell to her knees with a wide-eyed grimace. “It’s so COLD!”

‘What is going on?’

Even through her sleeve and glove the box of tarot cards were so cold that it felt like it was burning her flesh. She did not want to imagine what it was doing to her arm which she had already lost all feeling in the shoulder of.

“Ow, ow, ow! You weren’t cold like this just a moment ago. Why are you so cold now when you weren’t after I fell into the gorge? Oh!” Forcing herself to stand against the pain, Rosy made her way to the edge of the road and looked down into the mushroom filled gorge. It was quite the sight filled with countless giant mushrooms and chunks of city, some of the mushrooms even glowing along with the spores that filled the air. Rosy would have marveled at the sight more than she did but an updraft of wind from within tickled her nose and she sneezed and took an involuntary step away from the edge. More importantly though…

‘Hey, my cards aren’t as cold now. Then it really is isn’t it?’

Stepping back to the edge again Rosy looked down and tightened her grip on her shoulder. ‘Is there someone down there asking me for help through my cards?’ The thought pulled Rosy’s memories back to the pained spread her cards had landed in earlier and the dream of the seven eyes. A determined frown creased her features and Rosy balled her free hand up. “In that case, I’m so sorry for leaving you waiting. But you’re going to have to show me how to get to you!”

To the surprise of the crew of an approaching rescue ship, Rosy suddenly jumped over the edge. Her jump was not without plan however and she planted her feet on the cliff side to control where she went with her descent. As her cards grew less painfully cold, she kicked off the cliff and leapt out to a mushroom cap. She allowed herself to fall over and rolled around in ball for a moment before uncurling and leaping off in the direction from which her cards grew less cold. Imprecise a method as it was, Rosy eventually found herself standing on a ledge under a giant mushroom cap with a large cave opening in a cliff. A chill wind blew from it, but as it blew over Rosy it took the rest of the cold from her cards away. It also carried ominous sounds that were all too familiar and Rosy let out a nervous laugh.

“Don’t tell me…,” before Rosy could even finish her thought an obnoxious laugh echoed out from the cavern.

“OH~HOHOHOHO!”

“Eggman!” Rosy’s feet were already moving before she was even thinking and before she knew it she had to actively stop herself and hide as she easily caught up with the rotund, egg-shaped scientist and archenemy of Sonic the Hedgehog. Peeking out from behind the stalagmite that served as her impromptu hiding space, Rosy counted numerous bee robots buzzing around in the air around Eggman in his Egg Mobile as well as several rhinoceros shaped unicycle ones scooting about below him. The air of good cheer surrounding him was unmistakable and it was obvious that he was in the midst of a new sinister scheme. ‘Maybe… I can stop him?’

The thought of stopping Eggman mid-scheme seemed like the perfect way to prove herself to Sonic and convince him to let her travel with him. But she had no luck with Eggman, especially when Metal Sonic was around. Worse, she was on her own this time with none of her friends around and had already used her flare and could not call for help. Unless…

“No!”

“Hmm?” Eggman stopped and turned his Egg Mobile around to check his flank in response to Rosy’s sudden shout of disappointment. She had already ducked back down behind the stalagmite and had clamped her hands tightly over her mouth. But it was too late, and she knew it. Worse, the wrist device she wore to keep in contact with Checkpoint was broken and considering how rare such advanced technology was, and that it was actually functional meant she would be in trouble for it breaking too. That would be the least of her troubles though if Eggman found her, and he was already on his way with his contingent of robots.

“Ho~! Already gone are you?” Eggman mused aloud as he reached Rosy’s former hiding spot which she had swiftly abandoned. Naturally though he smiled a huge toothy grin and with a boisterous laugh mocked Rosy. “Hohoho! Disappearing so quickly yet not confronting me could only mean it’s one of Sonic’s troublesome little friends! But which one I wonder… Not that it matters when you have pitted yourself against the super genius scientist Dr. Eggman! You’ll lose in no time and then I’ll use you to bait Sonic to his doom. OH~HOHOHOHOHO! Erk–! What are you imbeciles doing! I needed the data from there!”

The cave was a lot larger than what Rosy had realized when she had charged in blindly, and from a natural catwalk above she spied down at Eggman. He was more than animated as he yelled at the rhinoceros bots that scooted about where Rosy had been annihilating any source of her trail and making a fool of Eggman. ‘I guess I can run away safely now and find what Eggman’s here for and ruin his plans.’

Trying to stay low, Rosy pressed her hands into the ground and started to enter a handstand as she kicked her feet about to get to speed before leaning back down and launching forward. Pebbles and dust flew up in her wake and Eggman snapped his gaze in the direction of the noise, adjusting his glasses with a finger.

“If you’re already running and making so much noise, than it must be that pesky pink sow of a girlfriend of that blasted Sonic trying to interfere. Too bad girl, I, super genius scientist Dr. Eggman will not be stopped this time!”

Eggman’s declaration and subsequent order to his bots meant little to Rosy. She was too busy swooning as she ran deeper into the cavern. “Ahh~! ♥ He thinks I’m Sonic’s girlfriend! I can’t believe it! I wonder what Sonic would think! Does he think of me that way too? I really want him too! Eee~!” Cupping her face with her hands as she gushed Rosy stopped focusing on her running as much as she needed to and slipped into pigeon-toed scrambling. By the time she realized it was too late and she mis-stepped, tripping herself up and rolling wildly before bouncing off a wall.

By hedgehog instinct alone Rosy had curled into a tight ball to protect herself and took a moment to uncurl. “Huh?” Un-squeezing her eyes she looked up at the sight of a giant mushroom, the first of many she looked at as she got back to her feet shakily. “Did I go back outside by accident?”

A quick look around revealed no sign of the sky, but rather a forest of giant mushrooms growing in the cave. A cursory look around also revealed that neither the rhinoceros bots nor bee bots had given up chasing her. “Ooo~! Why do you have to be so persistent!” Dashing off into the new forest Rosy tried to leave the robots behind with her complaint, and while taking to the mushroom caps took her out of reach of the rhinoceros bots, the bee bots were far better equipped to pursue her.

“Kyaa~!” Rosy shouted out as the mushrooms suddenly exploded around her under fire from the artillery mounted in the bee bots’ stingers. “What are you doing! AHCOO~!”

Spores filled the air around Rosy and she could not stop herself from sneezing. She was clumsy as it was trying to use Sonic’s levels of speed but running while sneezing was impossible. But she tried her best to anyway as she could not risk being shot by the bee bots. Unfortunately, she was unaware up to her next step that Eggman had also brought along a third type of robot. Leaping out of the mushroom cap right where Rosy was about to step, the mole like robot with a drill for a nose and drills for hands met her foot with its nose. If not for the Rings she had been gathering all morning the results would have been disastrous, but instead the energy of the Rings absorbed the impact and scattered from Rosy’s person as she was thrown back. Before she could recover and attempt to snag any of her lost Rings though another mushroom cap crashed into her from behind and sent her flying over the burrow bot. Disoriented, Rosy simply curled up as tightly as she could and let gravity and her momentum carry her to where it may, and winced with each collision and bounce from within her protective ball. She did not look out again until Eggman’s telltale laugh assured her that she was not safe in the least.

“OH~HOHOHOHOHO! I had heard you were quite the treasure magnet Ms. Rose, but–”

“It’s Rosy!” Aggravated by the use of her last name instead of her nickname, Rosy popped out of her curled up state and landed on her feet leveling Eggman with an angry pout. Her unleashed temper was quickly quieted though when she realized she was surrounded in an alcove with steep walls that curved up to a stalactite covered ceiling. The only way out was past Eggman and his contingent of robots and he offered her a toothy grin as he saw the realization in her eyes.

“Now now, Ms. Rose, no reason to be so riled up. I’m in a good mood today. You see, rather unexpectedly, Metal Sonic came home recently and with a marvelous treasure. One with the same energy signal as what our little game has led us too. Oh~hohohohoho!”

“What?” Risking a look behind her where numerous burrow bots were rising out of the ground, Rosy saw ‘it’ floating in the air before the back wall of the alcove. It was as wide as a saucer and perfectly spherical, and though it was a sea blue color and seemed to be an orb of polished crystal Rosy knew what it was. It was impossible not too when a vertical pupil filled with flames looked out from the face of it. “…the eye from my dream…”

“Oh~, so you’re already familiar with the Gaia Eyes, Ms. Rose.”

“Gaia Eyes?”

The disappointment on Eggman;s face as his mustache drooped told Rosy admitting her ignorance was probably a bad idea as she turned back around to face the mad doctor and would be world conqueror. That he was after it was enough reason for her to keep him from getting it, but it was a question of how at that point. Her imitation of Sonic’s spin attack would let her best a few Eggman robots in a one-on-one confrontation, but here she was surrounded and had no real room to work with. Yet she could feel the desperation of the Gaia Eye behind her boring into her back. Tightening her hands into balls she looked as defiantly at Eggman as she could.

“I can learn about them later, but I’m pretty positive it doesn’t want to go with you!” With a shout Rosy turned to dash for the Gaia Eye and left Eggman too dumbstruck with her words to give an immediate order.

“Doesn’t want to? Absolutely preposterous! These Gaia Eyes are no different than the Chaos Emeralds; crystalized power waiting for a genius such as myself to unlock their secrets. And when I do, I will finally rule the world! OH~HOHOHOHOHO!” the laugh of Eggman’s that ended his little speech was not just in celebration of his future victory, but also at Rosy’s failing efforts. He may not have given the order, but his robots were designed to fight Sonic and her display of speed set them into motion and kept Rosy from the Gaia Eye.

“Why can’t you just leave the world alone! It’s so much fun as it is now and doesn’t need you ruling over it!”

“How naïve you are Miss Rose,–erk!”

“It’s Rosy!” Her irritation reaching a head, Rosy ran straight for Eggman as she was forced to retreat from the Gaia Eye due to the antics of the robots. She was no Sonic and couldn’t take on so many head on, but the gunfire from the bee bots was making it far worse on her and she knew she had to stop them somehow. As Eggman’s Egg Mobile did not seem equipped for immediate combat charging the doctor seemed like her best chance of getting it to stop, especially since Eggman would be caught in the crossfire.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Cease your firing!” the order Rosy was hoping for spilt out of Eggman in a panic as she tucked into a ball and rolled under him. She did not linger though not trusting Eggman to not be prepared to attack and leapt up at a bee bot behind him. Spinning into a ball as fast and as tightly as she could Rosy tore into the robot and popped out the other side destroying the machine and freeing a small blue bird known as a flicky in the process. Eggman bore witness to the sight as he spun around angrily to lash out at Rosy. “Why you little! I should have expected no less from one of Sonic’s friends! Ehm?”

Dissipating like morning fog, Eggman’s ire disappeared as he noticed Rosy acting funny as she failed to land properly. She struggled to turn around and look at the Flicky she freed, and the question in her eyes prompted Eggman to ask his own as he held up a hand to stop his robots from assaulting the suddenly vulnerable seeming hedgehog girl. “Is something wrong Ms. Rose? Or are you just surprised that I’m still using wildlife in my machines? You must understand, having a power source and a hostage is extremely helpful when dealing with Sonic. It slows him down you see, knowing he can’t recklessly attack my beautiful creations.”

“Sonic… shouldn’t… slow down… for… anyone… whoa…!” Rosy was not sure what was wrong with her. Her speech was coming out slurred and she could barely stay standing. She was feeling lightheaded and flushed and turned her knees sharply together to keep herself standing. Her hips did not feel like they were going to support her for much longer either and the flicky she freed looked at its rescuer with great worry. She wanted to offer it a reassuring smile but her body was feeling so warm like she was sunbathing and she couldn’t bring herself to move. ‘Do I have a fever? Why am I so…?’

“Oh, what a day of delights!” Eggman was so excited he could not keep himself in his Egg Mobile and leapt from it dancing over to the wreckage of his destroyed bee bot. Rosy struggled to watch him, but just shifting her eyes left her feeling so dizzy she fell to her knees and fought with every drop of strength she could to keep her elbows locked so her arms would support her. She could not fathom what Eggman was looking for as he rummaged through the wreckage of the robot she destroyed, but the massive toothy grin he offered he as he spun around holding up a small broken glass tube sent chills down her spine. “You really have made this day more delightful than it already was Ms. Rose”

“It’s… Rosy…” Rosy could barely manage to correct Eggman as she less so labored to breathe as her hot breath simply seemed to escape any conscious control on her part. That was a problem in general she having was maintaining any conscious control of her body. It was as if it had simply stopped receiving orders from her and she fell onto her side weakly looking up at Eggman as he danced over. ‘I don’t understand, it’s so weird. My vision is fine, but I can’t move… I can… barely think…’

“I can’t believe it’s actually working on a sapient hedgehog! It never worked on Sonic and I tried it on so many test subjects, but it just wouldn’t work! And yet, it’s working on you! Oh, why didn’t I try using wildlife as a power source when I first tried to study you and that blasted Ring Bond of Sonic’s. I would have found out then that it works on you. And better yet, better yet, you’re not experiencing the typical adrenaline shock when exposed to an uncontrolled atmosphere that snaps all of the pests I use back to their senses.”

“Wh… t…” Rosy could not manage to properly utter a word and just looked at Eggman questioningly. Whatever was happening to her it had overrode her internal panic, and though she was terrified she could not act on it all and instead sought answers from the only one who could answer them. Fortunately, Eggman seemed glad to continue prattling on and squatted down next to Rosy and waved the broken glass tube he held in front of her. As it passed her nose her body grew completely limp and Rosy had no control left at all. She could still see Eggman smiling at her, but she could not even look at him anymore as she lost conscious control of her eyes.

“Oh~hohohoho! Look at you Ms. Rose. You can’t even move. You’re completely, absolute, and utterly helpless and it’s so beautiful! But of course, I’m certain you want to know what’s happening to you. Well I’m so overjoyed right now I’ll be glad to tell you. What you are experiencing right now is a form of conscious paralysis. You might compare it to waking up before your body, a phenomenon commonly called sleep paralysis. The flushing and warmth you’re feeling is from your blood vessels widening in response to the compound that was in this vial and that you must have breathed in when you destroyed my beautiful creation. But it was a worthwhile sacrifice for this discovery. In fact, I should get another vial just to make sure you don’t recover after all.”

Bounding to his feet Eggman ran over to his Egg Mobile and tilted it over as he began rummaging about within. As he searched and tossed things over his shoulder he gladly continued explaining. “But you see, the blood vessels need to widen as my lovely little concoction typically carries all of the bodies nutritional needs and even carries components that keep the muscles healthy and strong. An absolute necessity to keep my living batteries functional you see. The paralysis is also necessary to keep my batteries from trying to run off, but the mind must be kept active, that’s why you’re still awake. Even the most primitive of pests have minds that must be occupied. It’s why my robots interact you see, it gives my batteries’ minds something to focus on so that way the mind doesn’t degrade followed by the body. Though you’ll probably doze off before you recover, depending on your recovery speed. Sleep is a necessity for the brain after all. I wonder though, have you dozed off already?”

Turning away from the Egg Mobile, Eggman meant to check on Rosy and found her being checked on by a red armadillo. He looked very displeased and Eggman pulled himself into his Egg Mobile in a desperate hurry before popping up to look back at the sapient armadillo who seemed to be struggling to figure out how carry Amy’s ragdoll-like limp body. Noticing Eggman’s eyes back on him though he gave the doctor a glare. “What exactly did you do her Eggman?”

“Hmph!” Eggman retorted snorting out of his nose as he typed away on the controls of the Egg Mobile to order his robots into action. “Don’t think I’m afraid of you Mighty. I know how much you abhor violence–”

“When my friends are being hurt, I may find myself willing to stop who’s hurting them though,” Mighty the Armadillo countered Eggman before he could finish. There was a conviction in his own words that frightened the normally peaceful armadillo and he hoped Eggman did not pick up on that fear. He still needed to figure out how to carry Rosy safely with her in her current state and his shell was depriving him of options. That and Rosy seemed to move about quite a bit, though it was little more than her body moving on its own as it sought to grow more comfortable for the sleep forced upon it. Eggman watched her carefully trying to glean as much information out of the display as he could, and the sight of Rosy’s eyes told him she was still wide awake inside her sleeping body. His toothy grin grew and Mighty feared it might have been Eggman sensing his fear and spoke up to distract him. “What did you do to her Eggman? And she better recover, or else…”

“Or else what you silly little fool. You may have Sonic’s speed and a strong shell–”

“And my strength as well!” Mighty strained to say as he again interrupted while pulling free a massive boulder from under him and Rosy before hoisting it it above his head with one hand threateningly.

“You wouldn’t,” Eggman gulped and floated back so that his burrow bots were between him and Mighty. They would surely break the boulder if he threw it now. Presuming he did not throw it higher than they could jump with their treads.

“Just tell me if she’ll recover.”

“I can’t say without taking her back to my base to study, but there should only be a limited amount of my genius concoction in her blood stream. She may not be experiencing the adrenaline shock that breathing in an uncontrolled atmosphere normally instills, but even without the surge of adrenaline her body will break it down naturally to absorb the nutrients in it.”

“Is that right?” Mighty sighed heavily and the tension in his body seemed to melt away. That that made his grip on the boulder only seem stronger left Eggman feeling nervous. Mighty however seemed much calmer and relaxed now and even allowed himself to smile. “That is a relief then. I think I’ve heard enough now to know that Rosy will be okay so I think I’ll go ahead and get her somewhere she can sleep this off. But don’t think I won’t tell Sonic about this. Knowing your trapping our friends in you machines again is going to get him riled up.”

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to take her Mighty,” Eggman sneered sinisterly with restored confidence of his own. “She’s become a very valuable test subject of mine now and I can’t afford to have you taking my things. Hehehehehe…”

“Rosy isn’t a thing or yours, Eggman!” Mighty shouted and meant to throw the boulder to buy himself time but a number of burrow bots burst out of the ground and shattered the boulder before he could. His eyes widened in surprise in time with Eggman’s widening grin, but he wasn’t out of options yet. Curling over Rosy protectively he let his shell deflect the shots of the bee bots and absorb the impact of the rhinoceros bots. As he could not fully curl up into a protective ball himself though the first one that hit him threw him back. He held onto Rosy however and pulled a ring out of his shell and threw it behind him in his path.

“No! not a Ring Gate! Blast you Checkpoint and your constant interfering!” For all of Eggman’s bluster there was nothing he could do to stop Mighty and Rosy from falling into the portal the Ring opened up into before disappearing with a flash. Watching the last twinkles of golden light where there had been a Ring Gate and two interlopers in his plan Eggman’s glorious mustache drooped. It did not stay drooped for long however as he was soon laughing delighted as he drummed his fingers together before him. “Ehehehehehe… Oh~hohohohoho! OH~HOHOHOHOHO! –Erk! *cough* *cough* *hack* *wheeze*”

*Ahem*

Having recovered from his coughing fit Eggman leaned back in his seat and sighed as a smile parted his lips and raised his mustache again. “Well, as wonderful as a discovery as Ms. Rose turned out to be, she is just an unexpected contingency plan for now. Besides, there are plenty of other fools I can use to get my hands on her for proper study later. Right now, though, right now… I have to collect you after all my pretty.”

The light of the Gaia Eye lit up Eggman’s glasses as he spun about to face it, no longer challenged to claim the artifact he declared as akin to the Chaos Emeralds. And though he believed it possessed no mind of its own, it surely stared him down with chilling hostility as he took it in hand with his signature toothy grin.

GROWTH GULCH CLEARED Chapter 1 - Anxiety of a Rose, End

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I so hope everyone enjoyed and am looking forward to your feedback! Hopefully I won't be too long getting Chapter 2 rolling ^^)'

#sonic the hedgehog #doctor eggman #mighty the armadillo #classic amy #amy rose #rosy the rascal #my redesign #metal sonic #my au #sonic au #sonic ring bond #my writing #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #i'm so excited!#i hope everyone enjoys!#\(^o^)/#ring bond literature

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mylustpersona · 4 years

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Return to the Castle (Part 3)

Everything was dark for Tabrin. The moment she opened her eyes, it was pitch black. “Cody? Are you there?” she called out.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m here.” she could hear him, but she couldn’t see him. When Tabrin tried to move, she felt herself constrained. Her arms hung over her head, her legs were spread open, and... was she floating?

“What’s going on?” Tabrin asked, a hint of fear in her voice. She was used to floating on her broomstick, but then again, she could still see. Now, in the dark and clearly still naked with no surface below her, she didn’t know what to do.

She gasped at how cold Cody’s fingers were, slowly grazing her legs. She could feel his body almost pressed against hers, his erection resting against her clit.

A shiver ran down her spine when he whispered in her ear, “I told you I learned some new tricks.”

Despite the shivering between Cody’s kisses on her neck, she managed to ask, “Did you... did you blindfold me? Is that why I... can’t see?”

God, she could feel that mischievous smile of his against her neck, “Maybe... and maybe I tied you up, too.”

Despite the unknown working against her, Tabrin couldn’t help but find herself... enjoying it! Every breath was shaky, every touch from Cody a jolt coursing through her body, every second tied up and elevated only seemed to make her more excited.

“Ooh, I see I made the right choice.” Cody chuckled. God, she was absolutely dripping!

And his cock... “You’re still hard?” she was coating it with her juices.

“Mmm-hmm...” Cody mumbled, still kissing and licking away at her neck, and down to her tits, making them almost immediately hard, and Tabrin gasp in pleasure. “And I know you want me inside you, Tabrin.”

Tabrin said nothing for a moment as Cody indulged himself on her hard nipples, causing her to gyrate and squirm against him. “I do... I want you, Cody. Please!”

Another lustful smile, as Cody slowly slithered his way down between her legs, “Mmm, tempting, but... I know you can do better than that.”

The moment Cody’s tongue reached her wet, dripping pussy, Tabrin knew she was done for. She knew what Cody really wanted, but the sensation she felt in the darkness as her lover licked away at her, was almost too much.

“OH! OH, my God...! Oh! Oh! Co... dy...! Pl... please! I want-- OH! I WANT YOU! I NEED YOU!”

But Cody said nothing, and continued his feast. Tabrin’s mind started to go blank. She couldn’t believe it. She had cum from Cody’s tongue lashing before, but this-- with no sight, and no ability to move, it was like nothing she ever felt before.

“Coooddyyy...” she whimpered. “Please. I want... I want your... want your... oh, God!” she let out a cry as his tongue delved deeper inside her, “AHH!” and then, she broke, ”CODY! FUCK! PLEASE, BABY! GIVE IT TO ME! I WANT YOUR COCK! I NEED YOUR COCK! I NEED TO FEEL YOU INSIDE ME! TAKE ME NOW! MAKE ME YOURS! OH, PLEASE, SWEETIE, FUCK MY PUSSY!”

That was all Cody needed to hear, to leave her a panting, dripping mess. When he took her by the waist, he pulled her in for a messy kiss. A string of saliva hung between them. “That’s my girl.”

The feeling of Cody’s erect cock shoving its way inside her pussy was like euphoria for Tabrin, as her cries echoed throughout the main room once more, “OOOHHH! YEEESSS!”

The feeling was unlike any other. Cody kept a firm grip on her waist as he pistoned his cock inside her. She only wished she could see the satisfaction on his face. But for now, she could settle for his voice.

“Fuck, Tabrin! You feel so good!”

Still reeling from his lashing, and every thrust sending orgasm after orgasm her way, Tabrin could barely reply, “Yes... fuck... fuck... me! Don’t... stop... fucking me!”

For what felt like hours, Tabrin reveled in pleasure. Her body stuck in a perpetual loop of fucking, licking, and sucking, all while blindfolded, giving her a sensation she never wanted to end. She didn’t know it, but a puddle of juices and cum and sweat dripped down to the floor beneath her, every time Cody trusted himself inside her. She cried out and begged him to keep going, harder and faster, feeling her orgasm nearly explode with every passing second.

But what really got to her, was Cody whispering to her, “Are you my slut, Tabrin?”

“Yes, Cody.” she whimpered, feeling her pussy clench onto his cock. So close...

“Are you ready to cum?”

“Yes, Cody!”

Finally, one last whisper, “Does my dirty little slut want me to make her cum?”

She was a goner, “Yes, Cody! Fuck me! Fuck your dirty little slut! I want to cum so fucking hard on your cock! Make me cum, baby!”

Tabrin’s orgasm was unlike any other, and she screamed for everybody to know, both in and out of the castle. Once it finally died down, she found herself on the floor again, amongst the many fluids of cum and sweat around her. She was so exhausted, but also, relieved, unable to hide the wide smile on her face.

Looking over her panting, orgasming form, Cody admired his work, “I hope you enjoyed it, Tabrin. You rest now, I’ll go check how the others are doing.” before he took one step, he realized, “Oh! And don’t worry, I’ll leave you in good company.”

Cody’s eyes glowed white, and next to Tabrin flashed a replica of himself, who took the sweaty and panting witch in his strong arms to soothe her from her never-ending orgasm.

“You go ahead and rest, Tabrin. See you later, love you!” Cody blew a kiss, and made his way towards the bedroom door.

He fully expected to hear shouting and obscenities yelled at by both girls when he reached the door, but instead, he heard... was that giggling?

The moment he opened the door, he got his answer, in the form of Lethia and Skyler, cuddled together in their bed, naked and smiling.

Lethia was the first to greet him, “Cody, my love! How are you? How’s Tabrin?”

“Uh... I’m good. She’s good, too. Still recovering from her orgasm.”

“Oh, we heard.” Skyler spoke up, giggling with her, apparently, new vampire lover. “Sounds like she had a good time.”

“Uh, yeah. Is everything okay here...?” Cody trailed off, letting Lethia answer for him.

“Well, we got to talking. It was a long, heated discussion, but in the end, we came to... a compromise.” the Vampire Queen removed herself from Skyler’s embrace to crawl towards her King, “Why fight over you, darling, when we can both share you?”

Skyler was not far behind, “We realized we were being dumb, and after our little deal was struck, we decided it was for the best.”

A huge weight felt like it fell off Cody’s shoulders, “Thank God,” he sighed, watching as Lethia circled behind and wrapped her arms around the back of neck. “So, we’re all friends?”

“Yes, beloved.” Lethia answered. “And to celebrate, I figured it was time Skyler felt the new you inside her.”

Cody looked at his Queen curiously, “You’re not joining us, Lethia?”

“No, not this time.” Lethia softly kissed his lips before sauntering her way towards a nearby lounge chair, “As much as I would love to, Skyler hasn’t had a chance yet.” she sat down, not even bothering to cross her long, sculpted legs, “Besides, Skyler shared a wonderful confession with me.”

Cody’s brows furrowed, “What kind of confession?”

He got his answer immediately once Skyler’s lips met his. He expected her usual lustful, passionate tongue battle, but this one felt... different. It was soft, tender. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, and her naked body pressed against his while still kneeling on the bed. Cody was stunned, especially when he looked into her eyes after she broke the kiss.

She didn’t look jealous or angry, like before. No, she looked at Cody like he was the only one in the room.

“I... I love you, Cody.” it was like time stopped, but she kept going regardless, “I don’t know how or when it happened, but it did. Maybe it was love at first sight? But you’re always so sweet and kind to me and Tabrin. It kills us how sweet you are, actually.” she smiled, “But I wouldn’t want it any other way, vampire or not. All those nights I snuck you into my room before this, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted you so bad, Cody. The fucking was just a bonus. I only wanted to be with you, to hold each other, to love each other. And I still want that, even now. Do you?”

For a moment, there was silence. Cody didn’t move or speak, he just stared into Skyler’s eyes, and he could see the truth in them.

Which is why he finally returned the kiss.

#tabrin #sex fantasy

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raidbossmadi · 4 years

Text

People Like US Chapter 3

3. Into the Vault

Previous chapter: Here

“So what’s the plan Ty? Are we really gonna take her in as a janitor?” Troy asked as he snuffed out the butt of a blunt into the balcony’s ashtray. Tyreen hadn’t said much once they’d gotten back to the hotel and he was curious as to what she was thinking.

“Don’t you think that’s an insult to the maintenance crew. You know they’d take it as the God-Queen thinks we aren’t doing good enough so she sent in a siren” Tyreen pitched her voice up as she did her impression of the maintenance staff. “Besides that’s a waste of a Siren. Imagine how much more influence we could get if we had another siren on our side, under our control. We could get her to do things the war meat can’t.”

“Yeah, I can put a good spin on that. The twin gods in their infinite mercy take in a poor stray Siren. People oughta love it, plus like we haven’t brought someone into the inner circle since Iris and that was what...three years ago now, I’m sure she’d like a friend who's quieter than Mouthpiece.” Troy said pulling out his echophone to write a note to himself. “We’re really doing this then? Can’t take it back once we approach her, you know that Ty.”

“We’re really doing this, something about it just feels I dunno...right in a weird way.” Tyreen couldn’t put into words the almost magnetic feeling that drew her to the other siren and she supposed that it was a siren thing, one of the many for which there were no words to explain. She only hoped that what little siren power Troy possessed made him feel the same way.

Part of Tyreen also wondered if perhaps taking in Sloane could solve another issue of theirs, of course she knew Troy could take energy from her, he had been reliant on her for as long as she could remember but what if he could feed on another siren? That way she could get by without having to spread herself so thin looking for enough to leech to sustain them both. It was an interesting prospect that she was willing to experiment with.

“I’ll send word back to the ship, tell the circle what we’re planning. Better to have everyone prepared for a new family member.” Troy remarked closing the balcony door behind him as he reentered the hotel room, now that they had a solid plan it was time to get the preparations in full swing.

When the twins made their return to Sloane's house they found the other siren waiting for them in the front lawn, sat at her easel painting the tree tunnel they had emerged from. A vine pulled out of the house window a mug curled in its tendril as it came to her side and she plucked the cup from it.

“And here I was worried the two of you were having second thoughts.” She remarked standing up from her seat as they approached. It was late afternoon and while the twins hadn’t specified when they’d be arriving to make their deal she had almost expected it to be early so that they could just get it out of the way.

“Such little faith, gods always keep their word doll.” Troy said with a smirk before deferring to Tyreen.

“We’ve decided to agree to your terms Sloane, we will take you into our family and you will serve us in exchange for freedom from this planet. Provided of course that you take us to the Vault and hand over the vault key.” Tyreen crossed her arms, she was short in stature but her voice and overall demeanor projected the will and intent of her title. Sloane had seen the streams she knew this woman was dangerous and not to be underestimated yet she felt no fear in cooperating with her.

“I assume you want to be taken to the vault key now then?” She asked as she checked the time, they could make it there before the forest got too dark but it would be nightfall by the time they made it to the vault itself. “It’s a bit of a walk from here.”

“Lead the way.” Tyreen said the pair flanking Sloane on either side as they disappeared into the wilds of Eden-4. As they walked Sloane finally got a good look at Troy now that he wasn’t trying to physically intimidate her, she noted the red looping patterns on his left arm that crept up to under his left eye and the similarities they had to her and Tyreen’s siren markings, but male sirens weren’t possible were they?

“You’re a siren?” She asked her voice barely above a whisper as if she was afraid to make the accusation and be wrong.

Troy opened his mouth to answer but quickly looked over to Tyreen his expression twisting into a slight frown. Sloane was starting to see a pattern in which Troy seemed to not be allowed to voice specific details without some kind of permission from his sister.

“Not a siren.” He said in a much more subdued tone than she had expected from him “Just a side effect of being born with one.”

Sloane could tell there was much more to that then he was letting on but it was obvious that she wouldn’t be getting more than that out of him at least not now. The twins put so much of themselves on display that the fact that they had secrets at all had seemed absurd up until this moment, granted as far as she knew this was still part of that display. She decided she would ask no more questions out of a partial fear of asking the wrong one and Tyreen changing her mind about her usefulness.

They stopped as the path ended abruptly at the rocky base of a cliff, face of which was overgrown with vines and other vegetation. Before either twin could ask why they had stopped Sloane reached towards the cliff her siren markings flared with bright blue light as the vines peeled away to reveal an intricate pattern of Eridian writing that surrounded a small hole in the formation too clean to be natural.

“What’s it say Troy?” Tyreen asked as she gestured at the writing. He squinted at it his brow furrowed in concentration as he looked over the carvings.

“It’s a warning.” He stated. “About what would happen if the Vault was opened. Open the Vault of the Aggressor and fire and destruction will follow; says the planet would be scoured to ash the likes of which no one has seen before.”

“Well that sure sounds inviting, but nothing we can’t handle.” Tyreen remarked, seeming totally unmoved by the threat of whatever danger lurked inside the Vault.

Sloane however was a little unnerved by the promises of the planet burning even if she did plan to leave it behind by the end of this. She still had her obligations to the Calypsos though so she stuck her hand into the carved hole in the rock, her fingers closing around the object hidden within. Despite it being surrounded by cold rock on all sides it radiated a perpetual warmth that confirmed it was what she was looking for.

“One vault key, just as you requested God-Queen.” She said presenting it to Tyreen. It was a perfect cube of stone with smaller square channels cut into the sides, it was an unassuming thing considering what it opened.

Tyreen regarded the cube as if it were a precious gem. She took it from Sloane and turned it over in her gloved hand holding it up in the fading light. “So is the vault far then?”

“No, it’s a brisk walk from here. Shall I take you there?” Sloane asked, hiding the brief hesitation in her voice. It was all so real now, she had only been out to the vault a few times before each to check for meddling. It was all becoming very real now, she never thought she would have to worry about the vault being opened and yet here she was leading the charge to open it.

The entrance to the vault was an unassuming thing, Sloane was pretty sure that was why no one who wasn’t directly looking for it had ever found it. It was a cave situated behind a large waterfall which, while beautiful to look at, threatened to sweep away those who ventured to close. Luckily Sloane knew the way to approach and avoid any of the danger and the roar of the water was only a distant hum now that they were inside the cave.

Guardian constructs that usually would have rushed to challenge those stupid enough to dare try approaching the Vault were instead destroyed, bound to the ground and sides of cave by thick overgrown vines. Sloane had dispatched them in a fit of fear and desperation when she had first approached the vault years ago now but not before she had learned the hard way that they were dangerous. The vault arch stood in the center of the chamber that had stretched out before them.

“Get your cam-bot ready Troy, it’s showtime.” Tyreen said walking towards the arch with the vault key in hand.

Sloane watched the male twin reach over and press the shoulder of his cybernetic arm a cam-drone deploying from it. She was impressed with how clever a design choice that was as she watched the bot follow after Tyreen.

“Alright Eden-4, let's see what you’ve been hiding for all these years.” Tyreen cooed as she stuck the stone cube into the pedestal before the archway.

The vault entrance shimmered into existence and no sooner had it opened when a large clawed forelimb shot out from the dimensional gap followed immediately after by a second limb. A large snake like head joined the collection of body parts and as the rest of the creature emerged from the vault Sloane muttered the only word she felt properly described the creature standing before them.

“Dr-dragon, That’s a dragon!”

Troy’s prosthetic arm grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of the way as a column of flame erupted from the monster's mouth towards them.

Tyreen however was ready and a crackling purple orb slammed into the monster’s side drawing its attention away from them and toward her.

Sloane watched as Tyreen baited the monster around the chamber somehow always managing to slip away before claws or teeth could get close to her. It was like a dance and watching both of them put Sloane into a bit of a trance like state what was only broken when the monster, thrown into the wall close to herself and Troy by the blast from the other siren. Yellow slitted eyes focused on the two and the monsters fanged mouth opened in anticipation.

Before the creature could strike however thick vines from the surrounding cave walls sprang to life as Sloane reached out with her powers and they coiled around the monsters neck dragging it back to the center of the room and tying it down to the floor. It was a struggle to hold the creature down, Sloane had never used her powers on anything this large before, she tended to be defensive with them. The creature of course was more powerful than anything she had encountered before.

Tyreen seemed to get the message and hurried over to the felled monster which shrieked and pulled against its bindings harder than before as Tyreen’s power, now brilliant red chains of energy hooked into it and drained the very life out of it, leaving only a stone and eridium husk.

“Annnd cut.” Tyreen called, the cam-bot whizzed back to its master and slotted back into his arm. Sloane fell to her knees panting, she felt overextended and exhausted .

“Hey, You alright?” Troy asked, the concern caught her off guard as she figured they didn’t care about her well-being after all she was a means to an end to them and they had gotten what they wanted, as far as she knew they could easily leave her dead for being foolish enough to have trusted them at all.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to catch my breath.You...You’re bleeding. ” She responded, a glint of concern in her eyes in kind as she noticed blood trickling down Troy’s arm, it seemed he’d been grazed by a rock kicked up by the creature.

Troy’s eyes widened in surprise as he followed her gaze, his metal hand coming up to cover the wound. “Ty, need a hand here!” He called over to his twin who was still staring at her kill with a look of satisfaction.

Tyreen sighed as she hurried back over to them. “Aye manito you need to be more careful, what would do without me.” She chastised taking his hand in hers, he gave a short ‘heh’ at her words but otherwise seemed unphased . Their siren markings flared in response to contact and the wound on Troy’s arm closed, it would seem that perhaps his markings, whatever they were, were not as inert as Sloane had been led to believe hours before.

“You sure you’re alright? There’s plenty of Eridium around if you need a boost.” Tyreen asked her attention squarely on Sloane now that Troy had been patched up.

Sloane picked herself off the ground and gave herself a once over. “No, no I’m fine really. I just well, wasn’t expecting to have to deal with something like that.”

“Yeah vault monsters are nasty business, it gets easier the more you deal with though!” Tyreen was oddly chipper about the prospects of fighting more of these monsters.

“Can’t wait you have a look through that footage, bet you I can make some killer edits Ty.” Troy too was very energetic now, both Calypsos seemingly buzzing with excitement.

“Right, thanks for your generous contributions Sloane. Troy and I will escort you back to your house, you can make sure you have everything you want and our crew will come and grab you first thing in the morning.” Tyreen explained as they made their way out the vault cave back into the cool night air of Eden-4.

Sloane still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it seemed so fantastic and out there that she was sure if she were to tell anyone else they wouldn’t believe her. After all, she felt she wasn’t anyone special outside of being one of six sirens which when compared to what she knew of the other sirens her powers weren’t even that impressive. Yet she had earned the company of the two most influential people this side of the six galaxies.

It felt like a dream as she stood at her front door the twins behind her seeing her off safely.

“See you tomorrow, welcome to the family.” Tyreen said as she turned to walk away Troy following after. Sloane watched them disappear down the tree tunnel again as she had the first time they’d come.

She walked into her house, the essentials of her life packed into two large suitcases ready to leave come morning. She took one last look from the doorway, knowing this would be the last time she ever walked back into this place as home.

#People Like Us #troy calypso #Tyreen Calypso #My writing #My hcs #Sloane the Siren

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