#but the one time sam is like ‘actually!!! I am breakIng the cycle!!!!! The endless cycle that has caused us SO much pain!!!’

[acesammy]

honestly the funniest thing about supernatural is how it’s 15 solid seasons worth of 2 guys absolutely BEGGING to die, just desperate to die, they want to die so so bad, but every time they /do/ finally die, the other one just goes ‘no <3’

[clairenatural]

I think about this all the time and I know that there are other people who would be much better at putting it into words than me, and this is going to be very long (sorry) but like. there’s a very clear narrative that Dean is fed about his parents his whole life, which is: 

- His dad is trying his best. His dad just wants him to be strong, like a man, to protect Sam. Everything his dad did was for his own good. He should be grateful to his dad. He should want to be his dad.

and

- His mom is a mythic figure. She is warm, and soft, and perfect. She exists in the memories that he has of her, where he associates her only with being safe and taken care of, and in the stories his dad tells him, where she is flawless. She is not a real person, she’s an idea--a symbol of the life they could have had. She is why they do everything that they do.

And Dean’s entire character arc from the very beginning is set up to have him break away from these thought patterns--from season 1 we see Dean idolize John, but then see John behave in ways entirely undeserving of that praise. He wears John’s coat. He drives John’s car. But as early as 1x09 Home we start to see that John is not the idol Dean talks about him as. 1x18, Something Wicked, is one of the more heartbreaking episodes when we see just how much John expects of him at age 9, both how much he has to take care of Sam and also how angry John gets when he accidentally puts Sam in danger. In 1x22, when John is possessed, Dean realizes it’s Azazel because “John” tells him he’s proud of him. Literal yellow-eyed demon Azazel overestimates how good of a father John is. And it’s a little later, but it’s still fairly early on in the series (3x10) when Dean has his “he wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me” moment (and it also has the “daddy’s blunt instrument” line). Like this was clearly set up, from the beginning, from Eric Kripke’s hand himself.

But it’s interspersed with these moments where John sells his soul for Dean, or has uneasy reconciliation with Sam, where it’s possible for the audience to stop and go “Wait. Maybe he....cares about them in his own way?” It’s supposed to be confusing because that’s why it’s so hard for Dean to break away from it, too. John sells his soul for Dean and Dean thinks, okay. He wasn’t bad. He did love me. I can’t be mad at him, because that would make me bad and ungrateful, etc. My dad was brave and I should want to be like him. And the cycle continues.

The problem! The problem is that a huge amount of the audience, and even a chunk of tptb, also buy into this narrative. Huge amounts of people believe exactly what Dean was told, even though the whole story is designed, from the beginning, for Dean to realize that’s all wrong--so the result is that there’s never any narrative closure. The audience is continuously told “John Winchester was an abusive monster who really fucked up both of his kids. Except, no, he was a Good Man and the boys need to forgive him and Dean should want to be a Good Man like him” which is also the message that Dean gets, which means he can never break the “Dad was abusive, except no, he was a Good Man and I should be like him” cycle.

This also happens with Mary, which is potentially where this post gets more controversial. We also start to see the “perfect mother” façade of Mary being dropped fairly early, when it’s revealed that she was a hunter and that she made the deal for John in exchange for Sam. But, obviously, the “perfect mother” ideal is fully deconstructed when she comes back in s12. 

I do think there are valid criticisms of Mary and I think they could have done parts better, and she does go on to betray them, but on a basic level Dean’s first instinct is to be angry that she doesn’t fit his perfect memories, not any of the other stuff. This leads to actual character development--to start to heal from his childhood, it’s important for him to realize that the mom he had in his head that he was Doing It All For wasn’t really a full person--just the idealized stories from his obsessive father and his own memories of 4-and-under, drenched in childhood nostalgia and the warmth of the only stable home he’s ever had. 

For some reason, Mary doesn’t have the untouchable status of John, so they’re actually allowed to grapple with this a bit and she and Dean are able to have the face-to-face “I am your mother, but I am not just a mom. And you are not a child.” “I never was.” conversation, which is heartbreaking because they’re both correct. I have not-so-positive thoughts about how the narrative holds her more accountable for simply not fitting into the idealized version of Mother Mary that her sons hold than it does John for being actually abusive, but that’s not this post, and ultimately they do move forward with the storyline of Dean coming to terms with it.

But people got so angry. I’m not talking about the people who have valid criticisms about how her character could have been more interesting, or how she does betray them, or any legitimate stuff--I’m talking about people being mad specifically because she “abandons” her sons again, and being mad that she didn’t just appear in the bunker’s kitchen baking endless pies. Those people have fallen into the exact same trap that Dean did--they idealized Mary and are angry when she’s a real person and not just a fantasy mother. 

This is a really long post but my point is that: when we meet him, Dean believes a set of fake truths about both his parents, which the narrative then tries to deconstruct. But, for some reason, a good chunk of the viewers (and, at least on John’s part, at least some of the production team) have also fallen for those fake truths; they think John was misguided but not abusive and ultimately was a good father, and that Mary was a perfect, pie-making mother. The end result is that John is never allowed to be held accountable, so Dean can never heal and grow, and Mary is absolutely demonized the moment she strays from that paradigm. And I just. Don’t know how to end this post but I think about this a lot. And it’s interesting. And I wonder how the show would have been allowed to go if it hadn’t happened like that.

[themauvesoul]

Bestie,,, please explain about fixing season 8 with mpreg dean,,, I am Intrigued

Ok so. This will make a lot more sense if y’all have seen wynonna Earp but. Deans motive in s8 is to End It All, right? Like his logic is seal up hell -> mop up the rest of the demons on earth -> bada bing bada boom no more problems. Only like. That doesn’t really track? Necessarily? Like dean keeps repeating it’ll be over it’ll be over but like. What’s over. Their hunting careers? The leftovers of the apocalypse?? The endless cycle of grief and loss and misery Sam and dean find themselves trapped in????? Like the reason s8 is so weak for me is partially BECAUSE deans motives are so vague and undefined.

Now before I explain this next bit I need to explain a plot point from wynonna Earp s2. So like. Wynonna Earp is cursed. With the Earp Curse. Which I am not going to explain but basically it passes down through the blood. Wynonna inherited it from her dad when he failed to lift it before he died. That’s like. The premise of the show. And in s2, wynonna gets pregnant for reasons. And like. Before she got pregnant, wynonna didn’t really give that much of a shit about the curse. Like she was just sort of playing along. She never really got into BREAKING the curse because at first she didn’t really give a shit but then as the show progressed she’s like. Invested part of her identity in BEING cursed. She’s the fucking Earp heir!! Watch out bitches!!

Only now she’s pregnant. And she’s suddenly facing the distinct and very real possibility that if she DOESNT break the curse, she’s gonna pass it on to her baby. And like. She didn’t WANT a baby, not really, but she can’t do that. The curse is ending with her, one way or another. So like. In s2 after wynonna gets pregnant shit gets down to the WIRE. she gets desperate! She’s doing everything within her power to break the curse and save her baby!! She’s going up against insanely powerful monsters while NINE MONTHS PREGNANT because she’s THAT dedicated to giving her kid a better life than what she had!!!

So like. Take that knowledge and think abt s8 dean. Like. In a way the winchesters are cursed. They’re the main characters. The plot is ALWAYS happening to them. And honestly? Dean was mostly fine with it. Like sure, he’s miserable, but he’s long past the point where he’s started to define himself as the Righteous Man, Saver Of The World. Dean on his own would happily go on being a miserable victim of the plot for the rest of his life, because he derives meaning and identity from it.

But now he’s pregnant. And he’s suddenly facing the very real and distinct possibility of bringing a baby into a world where he’s got beef with every evil thing under the sun. His baby is gonna be the grand prize for every demon that manages to worm its way topside. And on top of that, deans bringing a baby into HIS life. Where dean is desperately unhappy and trapped in a constant cycle of death and loss and grief. Where dean just has terrible thing after terrible thing happen to him. And suddenly, he isn’t content to let himself be victimized by his own plot relevancy. The curse has to end. For the sake of his baby.

So NOW dean has a lil fire under the belly, so to speak. He’s gonna do anything and everything in his power to make the world a better place for his baby. He’s getting Out, he’s seriously kicking around the idea of retiring, and he ain’t about to leave his enemies to live another day and come back swinging when he’s vulnerable. And sure, monsters aren’t exactly friendly, but deans most dangerous enemies have always been demons. And so. He’s gonna close the gates of hell. Might even close the gates of heaven, while he’s at it. He’s gonna do anything and everything to make sure that this baby has it better than he ever did.

So like. Deans taking on monsters right up until his due date. He’s running himself ragged. He’s running everyone around him ragged. He ain’t stopping until hell is closed and heaven is locked up and he’s gonna do it fast, because he’s on a time limit. Aint no way in hell he’s waiting to finish this thing until after the baby comes. And so. The curse ends here. One way or another.

The other thing that happens at the end of s2 of wynonna Earp is she actually ends up sending her baby away. And I think dean would do the same thing. Like it would kill him on the inside, but he would think about all the people that want him dead, and he’d think about how it was growing up with John dragging him and Sam around, and he’d be like. I have to give my baby up. It’s the best thing I can possibly do for it. Anyways I’m literally begging u all to stream wynonna Earp just so u can see the scene right after wynonna gives birth and is holding her baby and she’s like. Full on sobbing while saying I don’t wanna do it. Please don’t make me do it. While her sister is like. Wynonna we have to get the baby out of here. Literal TEARS in my EYES. And thinking abt dean doing the exact same thing has me on the edge of a mental breakdown

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Waiting For Forever Chapter 10

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Sam x platonic!reader

Summary: You met Bucky for a brief second at a fair him and Steve attended. Little did you know you would run into him again as you assist Peggy with Steve. There was just something about the sadness in Bucky’s eyes that night that captured your soul, and he was all you could think about. You have a secret though. You aren’t exactly who he thinks you are. This is a story of love, loss, and overcoming any obstacle thrown your way.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, Bucky being the cutest dad ever, cursing, reader really despising Walker, violence, talks of sexual actions

Word Count: 6467

A/N: This is my thoughts on what happens to reader During The Falcon and The Winter Soldier: Episode Four (roughly). It is not 100% accurate, but I wanted to put a little twist to it. This gives you a glimpse at how the reader and Bucky are balancing work life and keeping their relationship some what professional. I added in some 3rd person POV to get insight on what Bucky’s thoughts are in a certain part. That will be in italics. It is kind of a long one, but there was a lot of detail I wanted to add. There also is something mentioned that I may consider doing a What If...? twist with. Y’all let me know what you think, would that be something you’d be interested in? All mistakes are mine. TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!

Enjoy!

Of course that’s what Ayo wanted. I didn’t blame her either, Zemo killed their king. Of course Bucky and Sam just had to break him out of jail, and here we are about to feel the wrath of the Wakandans. 

“Why did you free Zemo?”

“We need him.” Bucky responded.

“In all honesty, I agree with you Ayo. I wish he would have left well enough alone.”

“We freed you of everything that went back to the Winter Soldier.”

“And I’m grateful for that.”

“Have you forgotten that he killed King T’Chaka at the U.N.?”

“Of course not.”

“My people, those men put me in charge of watching over him, protecting him.”

“I understand that.”

“Maybe we should give him back to them.” Bucky starts to speak Wakandan, “he’s a means to an end.”

I roll my eyes at this. This was absolutely unbelievable, I agreed that Zemo needed to go back. He was going to stop at nothing till he had manipulated us into letting him go free. It would be an endless cycle, a loop that never ended.

“You have 8 hours. Then we come for Zemo.”

Ayo walked away. She didn’t look happy at all, and frankly, I didn’t blame her. I turned around and started heading back to the place Zemo had for us to stay. Bucky grabbed my wrist making me face him. He gave this pleading look, and I knew he was either asking for forgiveness, or to talk.

“I understand your frustration. I do. He’s the last chance we have at finding Karli. Once we’re done, I’ll give him back to the Wakandans. They can do what they will with him.”

“I don’t need you to explain your reasoning. I just knew having Zemo around was a bad idea.”

“I get that. I just need you to trust me. When we’re done with him, I’ll give him back to them.”

“Fine. I’m giving you 6 hours. They’re a little more generous than I am.”

“Fine.”

We walked back to the house in silence. I hated being the bad guy in this, but I believe someone had to be. We walked back in as Zemo stepped out of the bathroom, presumably after a shower. I went and sat down on the couch as Bucky walked to the island in the kitchen. He glanced down at his phone, and his face went sour.

“What’s wrong Buck?” I asked, concerned.

“Karli blew up one of the GRC warehouses. 11 injured, 3 dead.”

“It seems I may be the only one here who is brave enough to finish this mission.”

“We aren’t going to kill her.” Sam stated.

“If it came to that, would you be strong enough to do it?”

“No one is killing anyone, besides me killing you Zemo.” I glared in his direction.

“It’s people with her ideals that have formed the Nazis, Ultron, the Avengers.”

“Those are our friends you’re talking about.” Sam snapped.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky added, for clarification of course.

Zemo started to go on about supremacy, and how Karli is a supremacist. Then he started to talk about super soldiers, and it really got my blood boiling.

“What about Steve?”

“There has yet to be another Steve Rodgers.”

“You wanna know why that is Zemo?” I looked at him seriously this time.

“Why would that be?”

“Because Erskine hand picked Steve. All he ever wanted was to prove to the world that the person who is the most underestimated, can come out on top. It’s why so many people looked up to him. He was part of the minority group. He wasn’t meant to be a good soldier, but a good man.”

I looked away from the group as I recall Erskine's huge speech to Steve. He always knew exactly what to say to people. It’s how he gained my trust so quickly. He treated me like his own flesh and blood when others wanted to use me for my powers. He protected me from Schmidt in Germany before we moved to America, and he continued to do so even after his death.

“When I was young my TT passed away.” Sam started. 

“Your, your TT?” Bucky interrupted

"Yeah, my TT."

"Wh-who is your TT?" Bucky questioned, sounding a little annoyed and confused. 

“Okay when I was younger, my aunt passed away. The whole community came together. It was a week long thing. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya Madani.”

“That’s actually not a bad thought. A lot of cultures do it.” I agreed.

Zemo goes to one of the cupboards and grabs a container, dumping it out, and tossing something from it to Sam. “Turkish Delight. Irresistible.”

We all decided to go and ask around to see if we could figure out whether we could find out where her funeral was. Zemo of course started to go off about how so much has changed since he was younger. We decided to split up, I was with Sam, and Bucky got stuck with Zemo.

Sam and I walked up to the upper level, and began to ask around. Everyone ran away from us though, and didn’t want to speak with us. They all looked scared and very weary. We walked into a room where it looked like a lesson was taking place.

“We’re looking for Donya Madani, she was a refugee here.” Sam spoke up.

“We are not refugees. We have nothing to seek refuge from. We are just displaced people. We don’t trust outsiders.”

“We want to help out.”

“We have heard that so many times. People have promised more teachers, supplies. That was 6 months ago.”

I was starting to understand Karli better. Before Erskine I was alone in a world that didn’t care about me. Erskine was the person who took me in and gave me food and shelter. He was the only person who seemed to care. So, I guess I could understand Karli a bit better.

“What’s your name, I can make a few calls.” Sam tried to fight.

“I know who you are, but I don’t trust you. I’m sorry.” The man picks up a child and walks off.

“Well that didn’t go to plan.” “No, but it gave us a better idea as to why Karli is doing what she’s doing. Her people are suffering because the government won’t meet their needs. Her cause is good, but the way she is going about it is wrong.”

“Then we need to find Donya and find Karli. The sooner we can get her to stop this the better off we’ll be.”

“The thing is Sam, I don’t think we’ll be able to. Her ideals, they are just too strong to stop. Not without going into war that is. Trust me. I know how this ends, and it ends in bloodshed, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Sam nods in agreement as we walk down to meet up with the other two. As we approach we notice Zemo talking to a group of kids. I notice the Turkish Delight laid out on a little stool. I notice a little girl walk up to him, and whisper in his ear.

“What is he doing?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” Bucky responded. 

“This is why I’m going to be a helicopter parent when we get home.” I add in, watching with a look of shock and horror on my face.

Zemo walks back over to us, and we all head back to his place. He was keeping us in the dark about something, and I did not like this one bit. Once back at the house, we settled in and started to question Zemo.

“That little girl, what did she tell you?” Sam questioned first.

“The funeral is this afternoon.”

“Where is it?” I asked, hoping he would tell us.

“That is classified.”

“Of course it is. No matter, wherever it is, I want to talk to Karli.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky protested.

“I’m going with you Y/N.” Sam stated.

“Fine with me, but I feel like maybe talking to someone who knows exactly what she is going through may help her.”

“And you think you can stop her?” Zemo almost laughed.

“I’ve been in her shoes. I know what it’s like to feel all alone. To want the world to pay attention to the minority. I used to be her.”

“But you’re not.” Bucky added.

“Not anymore, but had Erskine not found me when he did, I could have ended up exactly like her.”

“I don’t think you’re going to convince her.” Zemo butted in.

“I don’t care, if I even make her question whether this is the right thing, then I’ve done something right.”

“You know the Dora will be here for you any minute, so keep talking.” Bucky threatened.

“What, so you can turn me over? I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo retorts.

Bucky stands up quickly, grabs the cup Zemo is holding, and throws it at the wall, “you wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

“Bucky, calm down. It’s okay.” I say walking over to him.

“I’m going to make a call.” Sam said walking off.

I went and sat back down on the couch. I pulled Bucky over to sit next to me to get him to calm down so he didn't kill Zemo. I wanted to bring up the fact it was his idea to break Zemo out of prison. 

“Have you checked in on Jamie?” Bucky asked as I ran my fingers through his hair. 

“I haven't. I didn't want to, not with mister creeper around.”

Bucky chuckled some, "that's fair. I just worry about him without us around. D-does he have any powers or weird abilities?”

“He's started to develop some, but that all comes from my side. You'd be surprised how much he reminds me a lot of Steve, but he really is just like you. He has your charm and Steve's spirit. God, that boy is going to be a lady killer.” I giggle some. 

Bucky smiles at me, but it fades fast, "I hope nobody has teased him about who his dad is. I hope they don't ruin the picture you've painted of me in his mind.”

“I hope not either, but if that does happen, we'll handle it. Together, I fear nothing as long as we do it together, as a family.” I squeezed Bucky's hand tightly. He was part of my family now. He was the father of my child, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

Bucky squeezed my hand back, “as a family.” He smiled, and my heart skipped a beat when those words came out of his mouth. 

“Okay you two love birds, let's get going.” Sam said, interrupting our moment. 

Bucky and I stood up, and we walked out heading to the celebration of life for Donya Madani. Bucky took my hand, intertwining our fingers. The metal felt nice and cool against my hand, and I was relishing in the fact that he felt comfortable with me holding his metal hand. 

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker spoke as he and his sidekick walked towards us.

“Ah! How'd you find us now?” Bucky sounded annoyed and pissed. 

“Come on, man. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Battlestar spoke up. 

“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker demanded. 

“He did that himself technically.” Bucky said, making me roll my eyes. 

“This better be an unbelievable explana…”

“Hey! Take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam said, breaking things up between Walker and Bucky. 

“I know where Karlie is.” Zemo announced. 

“Well, where?”

“All we know is that it's a memorial.’

“So we're going to intercept her there.” Sam stated trying to stop Walker from following us.

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Battlestar stated. 

“Alright, good, we'll move in fast.” Walker ordered, moving around Sam.

“No. Sam and I are going to talk to her, civilly. I'm not sure if you know what that means, do you want me to give you the definition?”

“We want to talk to her alone.”

“Don't be smart with me bitch!”

“What did you call me!?” I went to charge him, but Bucky grabbed my arm to stop me. 

“I'm not losing her again!” Walker shouted. 

“Look, the person closest to her died, she's vulnerable. If there's any time to reason with her, it's now.”

“What? No, no! No, no, no, stop!” Walker tried to get us to stop walking. 

“I know you think you can't reason with people like her, Walker, but I used to be in her shoes. I know what it's like to feel like the world doesn't care about you. I was that girl almost 90 years ago. Abraham was my Donya, and I lost him. If anything, she needs someone who knows what it's like, not someone who got handed everything.” I attempted to walk around him, but he shoved me back. 

“I think we're way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.”

“You two walk in there cold, she could kill you.”

“If we go in hot, and the op goes wrong, more people could die." Sam tried to reason. 

“I believe that Sam and I can reason with her.” I tried to explain. 

“You're gonna let them do this?” Walker turned to Bucky. 

Bucky had a look of confidence and confusion. I know he hated the thought of me going in there, but he also knew I was right. He knew Sam and I both had a good chance of convincing her to stand down. 

“You're going to let your partners walk into a room with a super soldier alone?" Walker tried to contort his thoughts into not letting me walk in. 

I locked eyes with Bucky, begging him to not listen to Walker. That he wasn't the voice of reason, that I was. I begged him to trust me with this mission, that I could do this. I knew I could defend myself if it came to that, so could Sam. I could see the war going on in his head though, and I was almost convinced he was going to pull me out. 

“They've dealt with worse. And Sam isn't my partner.” Bucky responded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Sam tried to convince Walker more. 

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I believe this is a bad idea.”

“Wait, John. If they can talk her down it might be worth a try.”

Walker scoffs, “fine," he turns to Zemo, "we'll deal with you later.”

“I'm sure you all will come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo gestures to a little girl and we start walking again, “hello my friend,” he pulls some money out of his pocket, “this is for your family. Can you show us the way?”

The little girl nods and starts walking ahead. I looked to Bucky, reminding him this is why I haven't called to check up on Jamie with Zemo around. 

“What the hell?”

“For once I agree with you.” I mumble to myself, staying close to Bucky. 

The little girl leads us to what appears to be the back entrance to where this gathering is happening. She stops, opens the door and nods. She starts to walk in gesturing us to follow her.

“This is the place.” Zemo stated.

Sam and I get in front of the group, and go to follow the little girl. Walker grabs Zemo quickly, and I thought a fight was going to break out. Walker cuffs Zemo to a boiler looking thing, and pins him there.

“You two have 10 minutes, then we’re doing things my way.” Walker states.

Sam and I rush in to find time for us to talk to Karli before Walker can get to her. As we walk around, we notice the building we’re in is two levels. Sam and I watch Karli’s speech from the upper level. Hearing her talk about Donya reminded me a lot of how I would have talked about Dr. Erskine. The more she talked, the more I felt connected to her.

After everyone left, Sam and I decided to go down, and talk with her. I had a feeling this was gonna be both easy and challenging. I had faith that we were going to be able to talk her down. I was confident Sam felt the exact same way I did.

“I saw you two back there.” Karli spoke, her back turned to us.

“We came alone.” Sam spoke.

“We just want to talk, Karli.” I tried to speak as softly as I could to her, I didn’t want to scare her off, and blow our chance.

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Sam spoke genuinely.

“Don’t condescend to me, I’m not a child.”

“We’re not condescending. I know what it’s like to lose some, believe me.”

“No you don’t, not like this.”

“I do.” I spoke up.

Karli turned to me, then looked at Sam. I wanted her to know I had once come from where she is. I knew what it was like to be someone the government mistreated. I had to get those words out. Maybe then she would stop all this, and everything could go back to normal. No more people would get hurt.

“It doesn’t have to be a war, Karli.”

“They started a war as soon as they kicked us out of our homes and onto the streets. People all around the world need me. Millions of them.”

“We can’t speak for millions, but we understand you, Y/n especially. She came from the same situation you’re facing right now.” Sam mentioned. He had to say anything to gain her attention.

“I understand your frustration, and I understand your helplessness.” I interjected.

Karli stood there for a second before she finally spoke, “so you want me to stop because people are gettin’ hurt, right? But what if I’m making the world a better place?”

“It’s not a better place if you’re killing people, it’s just different.”

“I used to think that fighting back was the only thing, the only way you could get people to listen.”

“You both are either brilliant, or just hopelessly optimistic.” Karli smiles.

“Can’t we be a little bit of both?” Sam chuckled.

“No.”

“Y/n, she knows more about Super Soldiers than anyone on this planet. She was Erskine’s protégé back in the 1930s and 40s."

"It's true. Erskine was my Donya. He saved me from the streets of Germany. He gave me a home, clothes, and food. Everything I could have needed. When things got bad in Germany, he smuggled me away to America. He only wanted what was best for me. I fought back against those who killed him, but I also rebelled against the government back in Germany. Trust me, it got me nowhere fast. It changed nothing, loads of people still died, and I didn’t help.”

“This guy we know who knows a lot about Super Soldiers too, he says you’re a supremacist.”

“Me?” Karli asked as Sam went to sit next to her.

“Yeah.” Sam responded.

“That’s ridiculous. Everything I do is to end supremacy. These corporations and the beasts who run them, they’re the supremacists.”

“So, let us ask you, you have more serum right?” Sam asked, standing up.

“So?”

“Are you going to increase your army? You’re killin’ innocent people.”

“They’re not innocent. They’re roadblocks in my journey, and I’d kill them again if I had to.”

“Wow.” Sam and I were both shocked at what just came out of her mouth.

“No, no I didn’t mean it like that. You tricked me into sounding like…”

“Like what?”

“The people I’m fightin’ are trying to take your home, Sam. Why are you here instead of stopping them?”

“You know, my sister is waiting for that exact same answer.”

“We’re not your enemy, Karli. We agree with your fight.”

“We just can’t get with the way you’re fightin’ it.”

“And I’m sure she wouldn’t either.” I look at Donya, hoping Karli would agree.

Meanwhile:

“No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started speaking aggressively as he paced the small room.

“It hasn’t been 10 minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky spoke up as he leaned against the door frame. He wanted to block the way to give Sam and Y/n time to talk to Karli, though Walker was convinced it was already taking too long.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“They know what they’re doing, especially Y/n. She’s done this dance before. Give them the time.” Bucky kept trying to convince him.

Bucky couldn’t tell at what point he was convincing John, or still convincing himself. He trusted Y/n and Sam, he knew in his head they could do it. His heart was the one screaming at him to just let John go after them. All Bucky wanted was his girl safe, that’s it.

“I’m goin’ in.” Walker started walking quickly towards the doorway.

Bucky immediately stopped him. If anything, now he was going to risk their lives rather than save them. That was something Bucky couldn’t have. His girl was in there with someone who could easily kill them, and he didn’t want that.

“This is all really easy for you isn't it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins. Barnes, your partners need backup in there. You really want their blood on your hands?”

Bucky is lost for words. He was staring at John to intimidate him, but now, he was frozen in fear. John knew just what to say to get Bucky to do as he said. The last thing he wanted to do was be the reason for Y/n’s death. That was his biggest fear, to come home to their son without his mom.

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced, walking in.

Karli looked between Sam and I. This son of a bitch just ruined any chance we had of getting her to back down. From the looks of it, Bucky didn’t put up a fight either.

“So this is what that was?”

“Karli wait…” I stepped closer to her, I needed her to see where this could end. Her fight was going to lead to devastation, and this asshole Walker just ruined everything.

“Tricking me till your backup arrived?” Karli backed away.

“We had enough time to talk.”

By now Bucky and Walker’s partner in crime had walked in. Bucky was trying to get to Walker, but his buddy wouldn’t let him get close. Karli started yelling, and John was trying to grab her. Chaos had broken out in just a few short seconds. It took all I had not to knock Walker on his ass right then and there.

Karli pushed John into a table before taking off. Bucky had shoved the sidekick back, and started going after her. I followed suit hoping I could touch Karli, just so she could feel that I was telling the truth. 

We were stopped by a whole group of her allies and fights started breaking out, but I continued to follow her. She was my target, my mission, and I couldn’t let her get away. I didn’t get far though when I met back up with Sam and Bucky.

“I lost her.” Bucky announced.

“I swear to god, next time I see Walker’s face, I’m gonna kill him! Why the hell did you let him get through!” I charged at Bucky.

“Y/n, wait a minute! We don’t know that Bucky let him through.” Sam tried to reason.

“Walker didn’t have a damn scratch on him. If Bucky fought back, he would have been on the ground in 2 seconds flat.”

Bucky stayed quiet because he knew I was right. I was so frustrated that we got so close, and now we are right back to where we started. I was so angry I punched one of the walls in the room we were in.

“Y/n, doll, calm down.”

“No! Because Walker got in, people are going to die. You could have prevented that if you just put up a fight.”

“Are you saying that blood is going to be on my hands?”

“Well you certainly aren’t helping your case here.”

“Y/n! Knock it off. I get you’re frustrated, but take a walk before you say something you can’t take back.” Sam yelled.

I knew he was right. I was about to tell Bucky that the blood of everyone who could die at Karli’s hands was going to be because of him. He already struggles enough with that. I stood there and took a deep breath in to calm myself as Bucky started talking.

“You wanna know what really happened back there? He used you against me. Saying if Karli turned on you, your blood would be on my hands. That would be something I couldn’t live with knowing.”

“Walker plays mind games huh? I’m really gonna kill him this time. So, I suggest you keep us as far apart as possible.”

We started to walk around to see if we could find Walker, when Bucky pulled me aside. I was shocked at how aggressively he grabbed me, but was even more shocked when a rough kiss was what I was met with rather than yelling. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me. After a few seconds he pulled away.

“The last thing I want to do is lose you. I’m sorry I let John get past me like that, but…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated at the situation. Had John not got between Karli and I, I would have been able to show her I wasn’t lying. That Sam and I were really there to show her we agree with her ideals. That I once was just like her. That Erskine was my Donya.”

“I’m glad he rescued you. He brought you to me.”

I giggle, “don’t get sappy on me Buck. I could have easily ended up in a completely different scenario. I could have ended up as Schmidt’s protégé.”

“We would have never met then. I wouldn’t know where I would be without you.”

“Okay, come on lover boy. Let’s get back before Sam gets worried we ran out on him or something.”

We ran to catch up with Sam who had found a door leading to a staircase. We ran in, and saw Walker with a knocked out Zemo on the ground. Walker’s sidekick came running in a few seconds behind us. We looked at each other, then back to Walker. I felt Bucky grab my arm to let me know not to murder him here, no matter how badly I wanted to.

‘What did we miss?” Sam asked, hoping someone could explain the passed out Zemo.

No one said a word as Bucky walked down and picked Zemo up. We walked off back to his place leaving Walker behind. I was so glad Bucky and Sam were there to stop me because I really just wanted to knock Walker out. 

When we got into the house, Bucky laid Zemo on the couch. Then, Bucky grabbed my arm and dragged me to one of the bedrooms, slamming the door shut. I was shocked at his bold moves, but I knew we couldn’t do anything with these thin walls, and Sam sitting in the other room.

When Walker played mind games with him, it unlocked something in Bucky. A side I had not seen in a very long time, a side of him I hadn’t seen since the war. Bucky pulled me close after shrugging off his jacket, kissing me passionately, his hands trailing my body. He attempted to start to undress me before I pulled away slowly.

“Everything okay, doll?”

“Not here Bucky. Not when it’s so quiet.”

“You said when we got a vacation.”

“Not with Sam on the other side of the door. He’ll hear everything. I promise, I will find us some alone time, but not right now.”

“Okay,” Bucky grabbed his jacket, putting it back on, “I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back.” He kissed me gently before walking out.

I sat in the room trying to gather my own thoughts as to what just happened. I started hearing talking from the living room. Zemo was awake now, and he was asking Sam about being offered the super soldier serum. He then asked Sam if he would ever take it. I started to think about Bucky, how he never got the choice. He was a lab rat for HYDRA, and didn’t get a say on the matter.

“Super Soldiers should be allowed to exist.” Zemo spoke.

“Isn’t that how gods talk? And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“You know Zemo, Bucky didn’t get a choice,” I could feel the tears already coming, “and if that’s how you think, then Erskine should have been thrown in jail before he was able to give Steve the serum. Let HYDRA and the Nazis control the world.” I could feel my voice crack.

Right on queue Bucky walked through the doors, “something’s not right about Walker.” He announced.

“You don’t say.”

“Well, I know crazy when I see one because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Sam!” I glare at him, and he puts his hands up in defense.

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky stated, pouring himself a drink.

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam protested.

“Here we go again.” I roll my eyes.

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky looks at Sam as he takes a drink.

Suddenly the doors burst open, “All right that’s it let’s go. I’m ordering you to turn him over.”

“Oh Walker, I've been waiting for you to walk through those doors.” I walk over to him ready to fight.

“I’m flattered, sweetheart, but Lemar is the one interested in you.”

“Hey, just slow your roll,” Sam said, getting between Walker, and me and Zemo, “let’s be clear, shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, we had Karli there, and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.”

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, huh?”

“I know how I want it to go.” I raise my hand. Sam glares at me and I put it down.

“Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

“Oh yeah, bring it Walker.” I say gathering all my strength to knock him out in one shot.

Walker puts the shield up against one of the columns, but as he goes to stand up, a spear aims right for his head. Too bad he moved out of the way quickly. Then the other two walked in and started speaking Wakandan to Bucky and I.

“Even if he is a means to your end. Time’s up,” Ayo starts speaking English, “release him to us now.”

“More than happy to Ayo. Was willing to when we met up the first time.”

“Hi, John Walker, Captain America.” John reached his hand out to shake Ayo’s, and all I could do was laugh. “Well, let’s, uh, put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

“Hey John, take it easy,” Sam smiled to himself, “you might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“Hear how he said Bucky, and not me. I’m just as tough to fight as the Dora. They may be a little harder than me, by a little.” I said, kind of bragging.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here…”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo spoke, sounding very annoyed, and very angry.

“Okay, look I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot…” Walker put his hand on Ayo’s shoulder, and the fight broke out.

I couldn’t help, but sit on the counter to watch. This was better than I thought. Walker kept trying to fight back, but they kept putting him on his ass.

“We should do something.” Sam tried to reason with Bucky.

Bucky crossed his arms, “looking strong John.”

“Bucky…” Sam warned.

He rolled his eyes, and stopped Ayo from stabbing Walker, “Ayo, let’s talk about this.”

I happened to look over my shoulder as Zemo slipped into the bathroom. I shot up from my spot, and ran to the door, “don’t you dare, Zemo!” I banged on the door. I tried to open it, but he had locked it. I used the force of the wind to knock it open, but he had already slipped into the sewer system.

I turn around as I hear the action from behind me stop, “I’m sorry Ayo. I tried to stop him as soon as I saw what he was doing.” She placed a hand on my shoulder before standing back up. I turned around to see Bucky’s arm on the floor as the Dora headed out.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked as Bucky went to pick up his arm to put it back on.

“No.” Bucky swung his arm around once it was back in place.

Bucky and Sam walked over to the opened sewer drain, “I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam gazed down.

“I can.” Bucky said, annoyed, “come on.” Bucky started to walk out.

We wander the streets for a bit. Sam’s phone starts going off, and he picks it up quickly. Whoever is on the other end sounds panicked. By how quickly Sam is answering them, it’s pretty concerning to Bucky and I.

“”Pack an overnight bag, take the boys somewhere.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, concerned.

Sam pulls the phone from his ear for a second, “Karli called my sister. She threatened my nephews,” he goes back to talking to Sarah, “wherever you go only pay cash. Let me know when you get there. I love you. You know I would never let anything happen to you or the boys. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I begin to panic about Jamie, and I can tell the same fear has rushed over Bucky. “I’ll call Miranda once we meet with Karli.”

“Maybe you should check on him now.” Bucky sounded worried, and I nodded.

Just as I went to call Miranda I got a text from her, “she just texted me saying that she is taking Jamie somewhere. She got a call, probably similar to Sarah.”

“Tell her to contact Sarah and meet up. That way they’re together, and safe.” Sam suggested.

“I agree.” I sent the sitter a text with Sarah’s contact information, and told her to stay with them till we get state side.

At that point Sam got a message with the coordinates we were to meet Karli, “she said come alone.”

“I’m going with you.” Bucky stated, rubbing my back to soothe me.

I nodded in agreement as we headed to suit up. We then headed to where Karli asked us to meet. It was in the same area where the gathering for Madani was, which made it easy for us I guess. We knew if she took off though, we wouldn’t be able to find her again.

“Karli!” Sam yelled, announcing our presence. She then peeked her head out, and we ascended the stairs nearby.

“You called my sister, and her babysitter. Is that how we’re going to play this?” Sam asked, angry as hell.

“I would never hurt them. I just wanted to understand the two of you better,” she looks over, seeing Bucky, “I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”

“You have to end this now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, either of you. You both are tools in the regimes I want to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield.” Karli started.

“Yeah Walker doesn’t exactly know how to properly fight it seems.” I chuckled, earring me a glare from Sam.

“If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was going to ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go.” Karli continued, practically begging.

Sam then looked down at his arm piece. He seemed to zoom in as panic sunk in his face. He then looked up and over to Bucky, “it’s Walker.”

Bucky jumped down, but Karli followed, and knocked him into a column. Sam and I jumped down after, so Karli didn’t hurt him. I ran over to help Bucky up as Sam and Karli fought. Once Bucky was on his feet, I helped Sam out by knocking her into one of the columns behind her.

“I’ll send you the two of you the coordinates, go.” Sam ordered before taking off.

Bucky and I took off after Karli. We chased her through the streets before she dipped back into the building. We went to head up the stairs, but Bucky was knocked down by one of the Flagsmashers. Bucky shoved them down the stairs, but they got right back up. He then kicked them into a wall, and they fell through.

We went back to chasing up the stairs after her. At the top of the stairs there was a doorway that led to a huge room. Sam and Walker were fighting off Flagsmashers left and right. I groaned knowing we had to help Walker. Bucky ran up and punched one in the face that was about to take Sam out from behind.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky said, going back to fighting.

I kept shoving them into each other, then pushing them towards Bucky or Sam to take care of. It was working well to start, then things went south when Lemar was kicked into column at full speed by Karli. He was dead on impact, though Walker begged for him not to be.

Sam, Bucky, and I took off after Karli. The chase led to the streets, and we were met with a horrible, gruesome scene. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Steve’s shield was used as a weapon for the first time. I was disgusted, angry, and numb all at once. All I could do was cling to Bucky to keep me standing straight.

“What has he done?”

TAGLIST (OPEN):

@ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @soccer1000​

[f-117-nighthawk]

Playlist Update Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 2! Here lies Endless War, Dystopian Fiction, and Filaments. EW hasn’t changed much, DF has a bit and it's all INFECTED's fault, and Filaments has more than three songs finally. My explanations for these aren't quite as fleshed out (partially bc there's less in my head to flesh out with and partially because these aren't nearly as set in playdough as the main playlist. more like set in syrup)

Part One

In chronological order:

Endless War

Dark Matter is here because it always is, twining through everything else.

(Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/You’re a bolt of lightning in the sky now/Don’t stop, don’t think, don’t look back/I’ve pulled you in, nowhere to hide now)

I Am the One links into Eater of Worlds as sort of the aftermath, sort of during Apocalypse 1992. Our Fifth General has her realization about [REDACTED] far, far before Team Voltron does because she’s there in the thick of it during Through Apocalypse Skies.

(I am the one/I hold the dreams from fallen heroes)

(We are gods, we are monsters/We create to devour/Not for love but for power/What’s a life worth in the end?)

(From the caves beneath Dundee/Ancient hermit arrives/A messenger to the war in the stars/Korviliath is nigh!)

The Truth Beneath the Rose is from the perspective of our last (and first) Blade in the aftermath of Through Apocalypse Skies, as she realizes just what she helped create. Also… kinda connects to a song in the main playlist, but not very obviously.

(Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast/It is the darker side of me/The veil of my dreams deceived that I have seen/Forgive me for what I have been, forgive me my sins!)

Raise Your Banner is The Fifth General’s newfound resolve as she starts collecting allies against Zarkon’s empire.

(Wake up/I’m defying you, seeing right through you, once I believed in you/Wake up/Feel what’s coming deep within we all know)

Obey is a bit of a weird one. It’s in the same vein as You Keep What You Kill in the main playlist, but it’s more specifically about the creation of the first Druids and how Haggar uses them against the Fifth General and her team.

(Obey, we're gonna show you how to behave/Obey, it's nicer when you can't see the chains)

Silver Moonlight is cracks forming in The Fifth General’s new set of alliances and her desperate and occasionally rash attempts to get them to believe in her goal. Not just the main one to take down the empire, but the one that will allow them to do that.

(I’m impatient, but it’s colors that I need/Too many shades of grey, I cannot breathe/The dreams I have ain’t tainted, I need you to believe/The only way to make them real, oh)

Endless War is the title track, connected to Holy Ground and I’d Rather Burn as a specific event but also sort of encompassing the Fifth General’s motivations throughout the series. She’s “hunting a miracle” that is also those colors from Silver Moonlight, and then the end of Endless War kicks in with Holy Ground, and the Fifth General’s final stand in I’d Rather Burn.

('Cause you’re fighting an endless war/Hunting a miracle/And when you reach out for the stars/They just cut you down/…/Is it worth dying for?/Or are you blinded by, blinded by it all?)

(You got inside my head, I want you out/'Cause I’ve been betrayed on holy ground)

(Won’t let you take my soul away/I’d rather go to the stake/I’d rather burn)

Empty Eyes is [long spoiler beep]. (and yes! I found it on Spotify finally!)

(I don’t know where I’m going/In search for answers/I don’t know who I’m fighting/I stand with empty eyes/You’re like a ghost within me/Who’s draining my life/It’s like my soul is see-through/Right through my empty eyes)

Dystopian Fiction

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects. Especially by the end… and of course, the Thing that is Wrong With Earth.

(Don’t stop, don’t think/Move up, don’t blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don’t breathe when you take your aim)

The Human Condition is the Éskhayklos manifesto. A warning of the end times. The condemnation of the parasites. The reveal of the only cure. The final extinction cycle. Also their new image song, as Cross the Line got moved.

(We have the cure for the disease/Locked down inside us/When all is dead, then we will see/We are the virus)

INFECTED is the Éskhayklos’s slow, well, infection of the Sol Federation, and their descent into full-blown terrorism. (And yes, I know the actual lyrics have ‘he’. Shhhhhh. It’s a STARSET song, it’s about a Shirogane, even if it’s sort of from Cascade’s POV)

(Here's a challenge for all mankind/The preacher man is warning of the end times/The weatherman agrees but she don't know/So she's got to go now)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist.

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I’m still alive)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! But here it’s also in conjunction with Cross the Line as the final Éskhayklos mission before...

(Codebreaker can’t you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. They’re fighting for something that, at that point, must seem like ‘superstition.’ And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon. Even if he does, technically, get shot down.

(I’m a dead man/In the wasteland/I’m a soldier fighting for superstition/Under searchlights/In the long nights/We’ve been written like dystopian fiction)

World on Fire and The Reckoning are the two of their subset that make it over here because they’re the two that happen before the result of This is a Call can come to fruition, and are more focused on our Earth heroes anyway.

(Sent by forces beyond salvation/There can be not one sensation)

(We’re all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is still in flux but does have way more solid than it did. Like, you know, most of an ending. I just don’t really know how they get from A to B yet.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s… a little hard to explain without giving away the entire plot but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Cosmic Vertigo and Louder Than Words.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that’s holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don’t leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is its eponymous fic.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home…)

And then we get to the new part. Know that stuff in Carry Me Home about “The record skip that only [Keith and Krolia] can remember”? Yeah, Prognosis is a huge step to figuring that out.

(How long is the body beholden?/How long 'til we run out of road?/Deep down in the black of the ocean/Fading from the glow)

The timey-wimey ball gets tossed around more in Blackstar. Partially due to [REDACTED] and a certain terrorist’s reemergence, but also due to Prognosis-related stuff

(They'll let you try/To reverse everything/Don't waste your time/Sing Hallelujah 'cause you can't change anything)

Eon straight-up plays Calvinball with the timey-wimey ball and gets the Paladins stuck in a groundhog-day situation, and the only way out? Isn’t good.

(If time's a song, I won't wait for its reprise/I am done wishing farewells and goodbyes)

The Art of War and Centigrade are the beginning of the end. The Art of War is Cascade finally showing his true colors, and the Sol Federation not having a good time. Centigrade is the other side of it, Team Voltron having a realization of just what they’re going to need to do.

(I can remember all the days of violence/I can remember all the days they fought for rights/When men united all by fear and interest/I mustered them with hopeful promises I've broken)

(What did you hope to find adrift and lost in time?/Is this the end ready to begin?/It's time to escape the fate of destruction, excavating within until salvation/No longer pretend the future's a lie from a past you cannot hide)

The Future is Now and A Theater of Dimensions are. Well. You’ll see. It’s a little hard to pick a lyric from AToD, I'll say that much.

(They said there was no way/But they forgot the black hole in the sky/Yesterday is nothing/I have half a life to rewrite)

(I’ve seen our freedom in the mist of time/The old signs I’ll follow and the day of relief will be yours and mine)

And then there’s Afterlife. Fitting to end on a UtA song, after everything, especially since The Immortal has repeatedly throughout DM been a metaphor for Voltron. Also fitting that it’s this one, considering the parallels between the end of The Immortal’s story and Filaments

(But with such power, think how you could rule/Hold to your promise to watch over those in despair/Why would you choose to serve when you could be master of all?/Be true to your honour and fight for a world that is fair!/Out of shadow, out of darkness, welcome to the light/As the day shines boldly over night/Follow me to finally be who you are inside/Open wide, embrace the afterlife)

[jessicareaper]

but really, can we talk about how the thesis statement of season 7 (of the show, really) is “you can be in pain, but you gotta be a man about it. you have to get the job done anyway, because if you don’t get the job done or you let your pain get in the way of getting the job done that’s a moral failing on your part”--and then cas, agent of free will that he is, comes in and repeatedly blows that thesis statement to fucking pieces. okay okay okay, let’s start at the beginning:

Sam Has A Mental Breakdown

so as we know, sam starts the season having a well-deserved mental breakdown. but then he’s pulled out of it by redirecting that mental pain into physical pain. because as we all know, mental pain is not real, but physical pain is, and mental pain can be overcome by inflicting physical pain on yourself.

and then directly after that dean balances his own will to live on top of sam’s shaky-at-best mental state.

so anyway, they’re both a fucking mess at this point, in very different ways, and so they do what any normal person would do: they go back to hunting, because you have to get the job done.

Sam and Bobby Talk

so like, all of this leads to 7.09, when bobby does this very nice mental health check-in with sam like, ‘yeah so i remember you had that little mental breakdown, are you still...having that..or...?’ and sam presses his thumb into his palm and is like ‘i’m in pain but i’m handling it’ because he’s the ideal in this scenario. he’s doing what he’s supposed to do.

dean on the other hand, is not. he’s not “handling it,” whatever that is, so then dean and bobby talk and dean kind of admits to it and bobby’s like, ‘you gotta nail that shit down or you’re gonna die.’ bobby is concerned for dean’s well-being, and so of course, in the language of hunters everywhere, he tells him to fix his pain. which....totally works, y’all.

Frank, the Paragon of Manly Virtue

which brings us to the 7.11 talk with dean and frank, where dean, once again, is like, ‘i’m not handling it well,’ and frank is like ‘then quit.’ and dean, hypocrite that he is, says, ‘i can’t abandon sam’ like, are you talking about quitting hunting, dean, or are you talking about quitting living? because dean, who, as previously established, has laid his entire will to live upon sam’s well-being at this point, fails to consider the fact that maybe neither of them should be ‘getting the job done’ at this point. maybe they should like. sit down or something instead.

(but on a meta level they can’t do that because they’re the ~only ones who can save the world~, so they have to handle their shit and get the job done. because, as charlie so eloquently puts it in 7.20, ‘what kind of douchebag stands by for that?’ but ANYWAY--)

so dean is like ‘i can’t prioritize my mental health. i can’t do that to sam’ and frank says ‘then get the job done. do it right and do it with a smile.’ and so dean decides to stop letting his pain get in the way of getting the job done--hence the smiling scene at the end of the ep

and by the way, this ‘do it with a smile’ thing is frank’s way of helping dean. so like, just as dean shared his ways of coping with hell trauma with sam at the beginning of the season, frank is sharing his ways of coping with lost family and revenge quests with dean. and it’s just an endless cycle of traumatized people trying to help each other get through the day by sharing the worst advice possible

and it must be said that, while this is the thesis statement of the season, it’s very inconsistent on whether it’s framed as a good thing or a shitty thing to do. like, in this case, it’s framed as kinda shitty that dean is locking all this down instead of dealing with it, but in other cases it’s. necessary or whatever.

Hoooooly Fucking Shit, Cas is Back

so then! the born again identity!!! before we talk about cas, we HAVE to talk about sam’s storyline in this episode, because sam helping this girl, even as he’s dying, is framed as one of sam’s best moments, his kindest moments, and while it is, while it is this incredible thing for sam to do, it’s also this enforcement of the thesis statement of the season and how sam continues to be the ideal in this case. like, ‘you can be in pain’ (or in this case, ACTIVELY dying) ‘but you can’t let it get in the way of you getting the job done’ (saving the haunted girl) ‘or it’s a moral failing on your part’ (or, if you do get the job done despite your pain, it’s a moral victory). sam living up to this ideal set by the show and the hunting world is this heroic moment. and like, is sam wrong to help this girl? no, absolutely not. but even as he is literally falling apart because of his pain, he’s not allowed, narratively, to abandon the job.

and then on the other hand, in the SAME EPISODE, we have dean admitting, once again, that he’s not handling it well. and cas, agent of fucking free will, does not tell him to handle his shit. you know what he says instead? he says, ‘you aren’t a robot.’ like, this shouldn’t be a revelation, but at this point in the season, it is a fucking REVELATION.

Fuck You, I Do What I Want

and so, does cas get distracted when he gets all his memories back? does cas get distracted when he asks dean, ‘why am i back’ and dean says, ‘maybe to fix it’ (it being everything, including the pain dean has been failing to deal with all season)? NO. Cas, absolute KING, takes a look at the shitty fucking thesis statement of this stupid season and he says, ‘No! fuck you! I am going to HAVE my mental breakdown and i am NOT going to do ANY jobs, and there’s nothing you can fucking do to MAKE ME.’ (all of this is on a meta-level, of course, not cas’ actual internal monologue on a character level. in actuality, he is dealing with so much pain and guilt that the only way to deal with it is to dissociate completely and externalize his own rationalizations of his past actions onto cosmic phenomena like the paths of bees and the shapes of cat’s penises. but that’s for another post)

and like! it BLOWS MY MIND that they were originally not planning on bringing cas back! because WHERE would this season be without cas taking the whole thing and throwing it out the window? WHERE would this season be without dean, who has had this thesis drilled into him and has drilled this thesis into others all season, screaming the thesis at cas-- ‘no one cares that you’re broken, cas! clean up your mess!’ WHERE would we be without cas’ rejection of that thesis forcing us to interrogate how dean (and also sam, but as stated, he’s been the ideal) has handled his pain all season?

in conclusion, cas, every! single! time! breaks the pattern of the narrative and of expected ‘manly’ behavior and fucking redefines everything just by his simple presence in the narrative. i’ve said it like four times but only! true! agent! of! free! will! in the entire show!!!

[shirtlesssammy]

15x13: Destiny’s Child

Welcome to our last new recap for a while (frowny face). We’ve got a couple requests that we’re going to work on in the next couple weeks, and then chip away at all the episodes we have yet to do while we not-so-patiently wait for more episodes. If you have requests, don’t hesitate to ask! 

Then:

Cas loves one (1) pizza man.

Now:

Late night study sesh in the bunker is interrupted when Sam and Dean hear a weird noise down the hall. They take off for the armory, only to find a Fiat and ---SAM AND DEAN?! (And while I guess it’s not, I’m just rolling with the idea that Savage Garden is blasting from that little clown car. I mean, really, what a perfect song and one I never thought would EVER pop up on this show --okay, or any show, it’s been like 20 years since I’ve heard that song, lol.)

The rift flickers and Alt!Sam and Dean disappear. 

They tell Cas about what happened. Billie pops up to tell them that Chuck is almost done destroying all the other worlds. They have to be ready --and by that, she means, it’s time for the next step in Jack’s training. He needs to find the Occultum. Sam helpfully translates that as “hidden.” It is hidden --lost for centuries. 

Once Billie takes off, Sam sets to learning more about the Occultum. There isn’t much. Dean ponders the futility of killing God. Doesn’t Jack need to kill Amara too? Cas gets a lead on the Occultum from Sergei. Dean and Cas flirt unnecessarily. Cas is so patient with all of Dean’s ideas, I can’t help but think that this is a common thing with these two.

Anyway, the Occultum was owned by the Jacobson family for a long time, until they used it as payment to heal their son. The healer was “attractive, and she healed the child by laying on hands which glowed.” I don’t know if there’s been an unattractive person in this universe, so good luck finding the healer! 

Lol, j/k, there’s only one angel healer that’s attractive out there! Sam and Dean find Anael and want her help with killing God. She thinks it’s wiser to stay on the side of the all-powerful being. When the brothers flash their angel blades (eerrr…), Anael confesses that the Occultum is really with Ruby. (I was one of the many rage viewers with this, but well, we’ve been rage watching these writers for so long, and we’ve had to handwave SO much over the years. What’s another plot point that we can easily headcanon at this point? Sigh.)

We get a flashback of Ruby and Anael negotiating the sale of the Occultum. Anael then tells them that the Occultum was never actually sold because they ganked Ruby before she could do anything with it. It’s now safely hidden in Hell. 

Jack, meanwhile, is busy getting back to life. 

Cas finds him in the kitchen eating EVERYTHING. Jack notes that coming back alive really makes you pay attention to what life is. “Hot, cold, sweet, spicy, funny, scary.” (Kind of like Sam when he was soulless, Jack is describing sensations, and not feelings, emotions, not really getting at what life really is.) They talk about Jack’s soul and what he felt when he had one.

Jack admits that he understands that he hurt Sam and Dean, and wonders if Dean will ever forgive him for what he did to Mary. “Dean, he feels things, more acutely than any human I’ve ever known. So, it’s possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode, and let it all out, and breathe deeply and move on.” 

Okayokayokayokay. Jack wants to know how long that’ll take and Cas admits that he doesn’t know, and I’M FEELING about how this ageless, ancient being is just WAITING for Dean to do this very thing. He has all the time in the world from his perspective. He knows Dean --really knows him, and it doesn’t matter how long for him because time doesn’t really matter for Cas (I mean, I think being close to humanity and all it probably means more than it used to but...I’m just rambling about my feelings right now. This is Boris --Natasha is far more coherent and eloquent with her thoughts, lol.)

The brothers make it back to the bunker, planning on heading to Hell. Cas leads them to a room where Alt!Sam and Dean are stuck between the worlds. Dean doesn’t care at this moment --he wants to get the Occultum. They tell Cas their plan and he thinks they’re crazy. They could be searching forever down there. (UH, they’re LITERALLY BFFs with the Queen of Hell.) 

Anyway, Dean and Sam head south while Cas babysits the spell. 

Cas still doesn’t like this plan and hatches a plan with Jack so he can talk with Ruby in the Empty. 

(I know, you just have to roll with Buckleming episodes, etc., but their insistence on making it beyond easy to jump from realm to realm is MADDENING.) 

We get a mention of Cas’s deal with the Empty, so that really is still a thing. Cas is “far from happy”, so we’re good!

His plan is for Jack to “draw out most of [his] lifeforce” and store it in a flask. What’s his “lifeforce”? His grace? Something more? Something else? How does he die without his grace? How is he just mostly dead but still able to go to the Empty? 

We’re also giving this exchange: “If I screw up?” “Well, then I’ll be lost forever.” WHOA. What kind of fucked up parenting are you writing, Buckleming? Good thing Jack doesn’t have a soul, because that’ll mess with a child forever.

Also, why can Jack use his powers now? 

Sam and Dean are ambushed in Hell. Anael wanted them dead apparently and made a deal with some demons (ONCE AGAIN, like Rowena would allow this to happen!?!??) They’re Sam and Dean Winchester though and easily dispatch the demons. 

Cas stalks through the Empty calling for Ruby. “Hello, Clarence,” a familiar voice says and Cas turns to find Meg reclining on a throne. He looks sweetly surprised to see her before his face falls as he realizes she’s the Shadow from the Empty. 

The Shadow may be allied with Billie, but they’re definitely not good buds with Cas. Nevertheless, “Go get her, pizza man,” Shadow!Meg says and a ball of flame swirls towards Cas and turns into Ruby. 

Cas asks about the Occultum, and Ruby asks after Sam. Cas refuses to answer and, since I’ve been stress re-reading some regency romances lately, I’m gonna go ahead and say he acts like an affronted chaperone. 

For Gratuitous Cas Science:

We see another flashback of Ruby and Sister Jo’s wild adventures, only this time Jo is the one who invited Ruby to talk to her. Jo tries to tempt Ruby into hiding from the apocalypse in the Occultum. It turns out it’s a place AND a thing. A whatever, if you will. Ruby cut a deal with Jo, hid the object, and then died her noble death. 

Ruby promises to help Cas as long as he can get her out of the Empty. You see, instead of lullabies and sweet dreams, or even quiet and no dreams, the Empty is nothing but endless reels of regrets playing over and over for every angel and demon trapped there. “Yeah, I know,” Cas says quietly and we all break a little bit thinking about how he swore it was nothingness instead of constant emotional torture. (That’s SO on brand.) Cas promises to try to free Ruby in exchange for her intel.

The Winchesters return to find Jack babysitting the spell alongside a MOSTLY DEAD Cas. Despite Jack’s (actually really terrible) explanation, Dean and Sam demand that Jack bring Cas back right away. Jack unscrews the flask.

Cas isn’t getting out of this so easily, though. The Shadow smirks and clenches Shadow!Meg’s fist, sending Cas to the ground in pain. The Shadow still is no fan of Cas, and is only willing to uphold deals with Billie, who promised to send the Shadow back to a lovely snooze if they cooperate. 

The Shadow ruminates on the fact that Billie has never mentioned Cas as being essential to her plan. This makes Cas expendable. 

Cas sputters to life suddenly, only to face Dean’s angry-worried greeting. “You’re an idiot, by the way!” Apparently still in pain or just suffering from almost-not-quite-dead-and-now-actually-quite-alive syndrome, Cas hauls himself up slowly and explains that he now has all the info they need to find the Occultum. “Am I still an idiot?” Listen, boys. Kiss and make up, mmkay?

They’re off to tackle the Occultum quest, but before they go they need to set out some decoys to throw Chuck off their scent if he tries to spy on the bunker. Dean suggests pulling AU Dean and Sam out of the void and setting them up as fake Sam and Dean. He flippantly suggests using Cas’s grace to power the rift this time and FOR THE LOVE OF PIZZA DEAN it’s called body autonomy. 

Cut to the Winchesters Set One and Set Two seated at the map table with beers all around. We learn:

Alt Winchesters are also hunters

Their dad is alive (but still SUPER controlling)

They don’t drink beer or watch porn

Private planes fly them all over the world to fight monsters

Their AU could be a middling CW pilot about wealthy monster hunters called “Hunter Corp”

I have a greater appreciation of our flannel-clad boys

Dean and Sam clumsily explain their ploy and their relationship with God and it’s not weird at all! 

Later, Team Free Will 2.0 heads to a small church. It’s guarded by a hellhound, which makes Dean SUPER happy and comfortable in his skin. They break into the church and look for clues about where the treasure is hiding. The clue is that the top of a cross points to the treasure. Moonlight streams conveniently through the window and at JUST the right angle to cast a cross of light on the floor. They pull out a little velvet bag from the floorboards.

Cas reads Enochian on the little golden snitch-style ball. “In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.” 

Back at the bunker, Alt!Dean and Sam enjoy their new rugged life. Sam watches kitten videos, and we continue to identify very strongly with him, indeed. Alt!Dean finds porn on Dean’s computer and I continue to ask WHY WHY we have to constantly cycle back to Busty Asian Beauties. Porn isn’t objectionable, but that SPECIFIC porn franchise should have died a swift death back in season two. (Boris: AMEN)

Jack swallows the Occultum, as one does. “Spit it out,” Dean demands. But Jack disappears into a flare of light. He wakes up in a garden. 

No, he wakes up in THE Garden. He’s greeted by a young girl who tells him that humans are prohibited. A snake confronts Jack. “Who are you really? Who are you meant to be?” Jack flashes through his good and bad memories and suffers an epiphany. 

He flutters back into the church like Tinkerbell in a ball of light before zapping back into reality. His reappearance burns away the two hellhounds. 

Back at the bunker, Dean sends the Alt Winchesters off to Brazil to enjoy the beach. He’s a little uncomfortable around them until he learns that the Alt Winchesters drove Baby. Then they get shoved out of the bunker just as fast as you please.

Once they’re gone, Cas tells Sam and Dean that Jack has returned changed. He leads them to Jack who hunches over the kitchen table. Jack is crying. He apologizes for killing Mary. He has his soul back!

“Please forgive me,” Jack whispers, and a symphonic line carries us into the black.

Overall Surprisingly Enjoyable Quotes:

The healthcare system sucks so I pick up the slack

Cas, you know what’s good about being dead?

I’m far from happy, so I should be fine

We had a good thing until he killed me

You’re gonna have to lose the man bun

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[there-must-be-a-lock]

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Shew. Let’s see. 

The more distance I get from writing Coffee & Psychopaths, the more proud I am of it. All three pieces play off the parallels in Sam & Spencer’s lives, but Origin Stories in particular is almost all dialogue and also has some of my favorite conversations I’ve ever written. I’m proud of it partly because the meta-themes are woven in so well; there are all these riffs on fathers, traumas, origins, legacies, cycles, the things that shape us, the things we wish hadn’t shaped us... and a lot more. That makes it hard to pull out one snippet, because all the sections kinda add to each other. But. 

Here’s one of the shorter conversations. It’s also one of the more heavy/serious ones, but I love the way a lot of those running themes came together with both characters’ canonical experiences in this moment. 

“And then we just woke back up in the motel room,” Sam finishes.

Spencer is breathing, at least; Sam can hear him, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, harsh but steady.

Eventually, Spencer nods to himself and says, “Okay,”

“Okay? Really?”

“Well, no, not really,” he says waspishly. “You just told me heaven exists and you’ve been there.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Sam mumbles.

“I just need some time to process,” Spencer replies.

“Whatever you need.”

There’s a long pause. Sam can see Spencer wrestling with something: he’s still, scowling, eyes fixed very intently on nothing.

“Did I ever tell you how I ended up on Dilaudid?” he finally asks, in a thin, strained voice.

“Something about… being kidnapped?” He’d gotten a garbled, rushed version of the story, but he had a feeling there was more to it.

“Tobias. He’d been beaten by his dad his whole life, tortured, just… indoctrinated with this twisted version of Christianity. He was doing drugs, basically his whole life, to cope.”

And Sam thought his dad had messed him up.

“There’s more to it, but the important part is, when his dad passed, Tobias experienced a psychotic break.” Spencer sounds agitated, like he’s reliving it as he tells the story, and Sam doesn’t understand why he feels the need to talk about this right now. “He split into three personalities: himself, his father, and an angel named Raphael, and…”

“You don’t have to —” Sam starts, but Spencer barrels on.

“Tobias was the one who injected me, gave me the same stuff he’d been taking for so long, to let me get away from the pain for a little while. He was trying to help. It was Raphael and the father who tortured me,” Spencer says, all in a rush. “And at one point… I died, actually. And I — I saw figures, and light, and… I always wondered.”

Oh.

Spencer’s staring out the window at the endless cornfields. For a moment, his face is illuminated by the headlights of a passing car, and Sam knows that expression on his face: like the memory is more real than the world around him. He’s seeing someone who’s long gone.

“How did you —”

“Tobias… he gave me CPR. The team told me later, he’d been fighting his dad, trying to get control. Managed it just long enough to save my life.”

Sam’s stomach churns. “He really just… he turned into his dad?”

“He didn’t know how to live without his dad there telling him what to do, so…” Spencer sounds like he’s a million miles away. “His dad had such a hold on him, he couldn’t ever get away.”

Sam thinks of Lucifer, standing in the corner of the room, following him, reminding him he’d never really be able to escape.

(Fanfic writer questions!) 

[satans-helper]

Groupie Love

It’s so hard sometimes with a star when you have to share him with everybody.  

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: 2234

Warnings: smut; all-female pleasure. 18+ read at your own discretion. 

—

He was mesmerizing–to you, to the entire crowd. He tipped his head back, his long, shiny hair falling back over his shoulders and into his face, a strand clinging to his brow bone and cheekbone, trailing down to his parted lips; his fingers strummed along the bass with a rhythm your own mind couldn’t keep up with; the smooth skin of his chest glowed under all the lights, a spotlight of yellow highlighting his collarbone.

When Sam opened his eyes, he wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t looking at anyone. He himself was mesmerized, you knew he was–mesmerized by the cacophony of sounds, by the vibration through the stage and the whoops, cheers, claps and stomps of the crowd. He was swept up in all of it, taken over by every single beat and riff, enveloped in the music. But you were enveloped by him.

You never liked being in the crowd with everyone else. You wished you could be offstage, watching from the sidelines, harboring an intimate view of him. You weren’t special enough for that, that much you knew.

Still, after the show, you caught up with Sam backstage after security let you in. It was always a gamble–sometimes he forgot to let each new crew who you were; sometimes it was simply hard to convince them that you were who you said you were and not just some crazed fan. Tonight, it was a smooth transition from a nobody in the crowd to a VIP member backstage and, as you made your way, you honestly didn’t care about anything except being with Sam in any way you could be. 

Moving through the rest of the crowd, through the throngs of other girls hoping to catch a glimpse of the guys or something beyond that, was always the worst part. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the dark, sharp eyes looking at you and the disdain you saw in the faces as you went backstage. You wanted to tell them that you weren’t special, that they wouldn’t be special either if it were them, but all you could do was keep your focus linear and ignore it. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Josh said, snapping you out of your focus, your eyes already searching for his younger brother. “I saw you out there! What’d you think?”

“Fabulous as always,” you replied, more dryly than you had intended, still looking for Sam. He emerged from what you assumed was the bathroom and a smile immediately painted itself on your face. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he said to you, sidling up to you and hugging you. 

Your heart was racing, as it always did when you were around him. Seeing him was enough to make it flutter but him touching you always threatened to make it burst out of your body entirely. You returned the embrace, holding his waist, feeling how warm his skin was, even a little damp with sweat. 

“Hi, Sam,” you said quietly, not wanting to let go. It was he who loosened his grasp first. 

“Did security give you a hard time?” Sam asked, running his fingers through his hair. “I thought I told them you were coming back here.”

You smiled, trying not to gawk at him. He was so beautiful–you could never get tired of looking at his face. His arched, full brows pointing to his high, sharp cheekbones that led to his defined jaw, all framing those shining eyes and his pretty mouth. 

“It was all good. And you were amazing, by the way,” you told him, quickly realizing how gaga you must look. It was hard not to be in awe of him.

He smiled and laughed a little. “Thanks. I’m happy to see you.”

You smiled back but you didn’t feel it. Not that Sam wasn’t telling you the truth, it was just that you knew you were happier to see him than he was you. That was just the reality of it. It was almost becoming unbearable to look at him.

He put his hand on your shoulder and started to walk with you, bringing you back past his brothers and best friend and security and crew, and onto the tour bus. He led you to one of the couches, sitting down first. You and him both knew that Josh, Jake and Danny didn’t back on the bus until you had left, an arrangement which never had made you feel great about yourself. 

Sam smiled as you sat down and kissed you gently. “Sorry,” he said when he removed his lips from yours. “I’m sweaty.”

“It’s okay,” you said, actually enjoying feeling his damp skin under your hands when you pressed them onto his bare abdomen, how sweat was clinging to his hairline. 

“So you really liked the show?” he asked, running his hand up and down your arm lazily.

“Yeah, you were all amazing. ‘Flower Power’ is still my favorite,” you replied, moving closer to him. “For obvious reasons.” 

Sam ran his hand down your arm one last time before resting it on your knee, leaning in to kiss you again. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, resting your palm on his chest; you loved when he kissed you more than anything. The sensation of his lips on yours sent you into a tailspin, like all thoughts escaped you and the world around you had fallen away, but you didn’t care. 

Your mouths were still moving together when Sam gently eased you back onto the couch, getting on top of you with his knee in between your legs, only breaking the kiss to bring his mouth to your neck. You moaned quietly, one hand on his waist and the other running through his hair again; he kissed back up your neck to your mouth again, sliding his tongue inside while his hands went to the hem of your shirt.

His hands on your abdomen were warm. His palms were soft, but his fingertips were rough, and you loved that–the subtleties in all his physicality that you hoped you were the only to pick up on.

You knew you weren’t the only one. 

As Sam slid his hands up to your breasts, feeling them through your bra, you asked, “When are you playing here again?”

He kissed your mouth softly, squeezing your breasts. “I don’t know.”

You would go on tour with him if you could. If Sam asked, you’d really think about it. “Do you know when you’re just–coming back at all?”

He pushed your shirt up over your chest, cool air hitting your body. “I don’t know, beautiful.” 

You tried to put the insecurities and the yearning out of your mind as Sam kissed your chest and down your abdomen. When he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, pressing his lips against yours again, you felt your body starting to relax into his touch and you urged your mind to relax along with it. 

Sam looked at you as he slid his fingers underneath your underwear. “I always have so much fun with you.”

He was stunning–so insanely beautiful that it really did hurt. “Me too,” you said, pulling him back into you for a kiss, parting your lips against his and lacing your fingers through his hair again. He slid his fingers down further and you sighed–his fingers were always exquisite.

Your attempt at relaxing broke when you heard a sudden clamor from outside the bus–the hollering and laughing of other fans. You opened your eyes and broke away from Sam’s kisses, your fingers slowing and then stopping their movements in his hair. 

“What is it?” he asked, slowing his own movements.

You knew you shouldn’t say anything–any accusation or even question would ruin the whole night, one of the very few nights you ever got with Sam–but you couldn’t stop yourself. The endless cycle of what were basically one-night stands with the same bass player was tearing at your heart. You would never ask Sam of anything more, at least not anything more than you knew he could ever give, but you just couldn’t take the thought of being just another enamored fan any longer.

You sat up a little. “Sam–would you call me a ‘groupie?’”

He looked a little confused, raising an eyebrow. “A ‘groupie?’”

“Well, isn’t that what I am?”

He considered that for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “I just think of you as Y/N.”

You did love when he said your name–that made you feel special. “So–not just a groupie?”

“Maybe by default you’re a groupie,” Sam mused. “But I think of you, you know, as you are.”

You swallowed. “Do you have other groupies?”

Sam smiled a little. “Not other groupies like you.”

You weren’t sure what that meant exactly but you decided to accept the statement regardless–Sam would never be just yours, and that was okay. You had fun with him, too. You knew he respected you and you believed him when he said he thought of you as your own person. Above all else, that mattered the most. 

You relaxed back against the couch and brought him into a kiss, letting his whole body rest on top of yours. His hands explored your body once again, running down your waist and back underneath your underwear, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck little by little. The sounds from beyond the bus dissipated the more you allowed yourself to be enveloped by his touch; by his long, soft hair caressing your skin; by his sweet, whispered little murmurings. 

Sam looked up at you. “You wanna have some fun?” he asked and, when you nodded, he slid your jeans off your legs and then your underwear but before the cool air could send a shiver up your spine, moved on top of you. He kissed your neck and parted your legs with his knee, you placing one foot on the floor, and then he ran his fingers over your center. You shuddered and he smiled against your skin, slicking his fingers with your wetness and sliding one inside you.

Sam groaned quietly, gently working his finger in and out. “You feel so good.”

You grabbed the back of his neck. “So do you.”

He added another finger, easing both inside you, and sucked on the dip of skin between your neck and collarbone. You moaned into his hair, the smell of sweat, alcohol and smoke brushing over your face, and gripped his waist harder. After a few moments, Sam sat up next to you and took you with him, propping you up a little against the back of the couch. He hooked your right leg over his lap and then he leaned over, his hair cascading over your face again, sliding his fingers back inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, both in surprise and pleasure. His forearm was resting against your thigh, holding you in place, while his fingers moved inside you, and his left arm was wrapped around the back of your neck, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips against yours again.

“I wanna make you feel good,” Sam said, quickening his fingers, curling them as he pumped. 

You brushed some of his hair back with your right hand, your left hand grasping his forearm. “It feels so good, Sam,” you managed to say. “Go harder.” 

He obliged, using a little more muscle to pump more vigorously, the tips of his fingers reaching all the little areas inside you that made your whole body tense with anticipation, sending a shiver down your spine. He merely pressed his thumb against your clit, the only real movement from it coming from the action of his fingers still working inside you, and you pressed your mouth to his desperately.

Sam moaned into your mouth and then broke away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “I can feel you getting so tight,” he said, adding more pressure to your clit. “I wanna make you come, Y/N.”

You were completely transfixed by him both physically and mentally in that moment. Your body was starting to writhe, the release needing to escape, and you squeezed his forearm tight and pulled at his hair as you came, needing to break away from his lips to also relieve yourself vocally. You kept your eyes shut as your body started to slow again, the tension gone, the explosion of your heart vibrating into merely a series of racing beats, and your grip on his arm loosened.

Sam’s fingers slowed inside you and he gently slid them out, tracing his fingertips over your center once again before placing them in his own mouth. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured and kissed you softly. 

You took that compliment to heart–hearing those words, no matter the context, from Sam’s mouth was more than enough to make you melt. You still wished you could have more time with him, more time than just fooling around on the tour bus, knowing that, in mere minutes, the rest of the band would be back onboard and you’d be driving yourself back home. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said, running your fingers through Sam’s hair, pressing your lips against his jaw.

He held your face in one hand with his thumb on your cheek, tipping your head back, and kissed your neck. “We’ve still got some time.” 

—

Taglist: @jeordinevankiszka @mountainofthesunn @bigthighsandstupidguys @camomillacatalina @saywecanart @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade

If you want to be added to the taglist, just let your girl know! ⚡ 

[crashdevlin]

Keeper of the Stars-1: Complicated

Author’s Note:  A multi-part sequel to Some of This Isn’t Bad

Summary: Y/n was a fan of the Supernatural book series who wrote fanfics and attended the conventions. After meeting the boys through Becky, she stopped being a fan and became a hunter. When she shows up at a hunter wake, she doesn't expect the Winchesters to remember her, and doesn't expect the argument that breaks out between her and Dean.

Pairing(s): Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3944

Story Warnings: 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!, fingering, oral (male and fem rec), protected sex

Chapter Warnings: none

You pulled in front of the large house and pulled your casserole out of the passenger seat. You never knew what to bring to a wake. Your first thought had been beer, but Bucky told you he was bringing a cooler of his home-brew, so you made a sausage casserole, knowing full-well Mrs. Lorraine Fox would probably toss it after the wake. You stopped as you walked past a black Impala. You considered leaving but changed your mind. This was about Asa, and Dean probably didn't remember you.

You hugged Lorraine and dropped the casserole on the table with the other food (mostly prepackaged items bought at the closest market on the way in) and headed for the beer in the kitchen. "So, what's the word, boys? Is it 'Wendigo', because 'Wendigo' seems like a good one. Love wendigos." You said as you pulled your pocket knife out and used it to lever the bottle cap off. The men at the table chuckled before taking their three gulps.

"You're a bitch." Bucky said, with a smile.

"Well, if you weren't so predictable with your secret keywords, Buck, I wouldn't have the opportunity to fuck with you." You took a drink of your beer and cleared your throat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go mingle with the other wendigo-hunters." They sighed, playfully, as they took another gulp of beer.

You walked through the house, keeping your eyes out for the Winchesters, who you found in the den. You were continuing into the sitting room, but Elvis saw you. "Y/n! Look who showed up! Winchesters!" He pointed excitedly at Sam, who looked down, embarrassed. Dean was in the corner, rolling his eyes at the man.

"The legends show themselves. Figured you were too caught up in your endless cycle of saving and endangering the world to show up to hunter functions."

"She says that like she knows you boys." Jody Mills was sitting on the edge of an ottoman near Sam. She was the only one you'd shared your origin story with, the only one who knew about your short history with Dean.

You chuckled as Sam looked confused, like he was trying to remember where he might know you. "Does anybody ever really know somebody, Jody? I posit they don't."

"Man, we don't have enough alcohol in our blood for a philosophical debate." Max said, looking down at his almost empty beer.

"Would it help if I stop using words like 'posit'?" You asked, walking to Jody and giving her a hug.

"It'd help if you shut up about that shit and tell us a story about Asa." Max responded.

You smiled and nodded, dropping down on the ottoman next to the sheriff. "Okay. I got one. So, you guys know I'm pretty fresh, right?" Everyone nodded. "Well, back when I was as green as the twins, I was on a poltergeist. I did a lot of hauntings back then, 'cause they weren't as scary, I guess. So, I flash my fake creds, ask about anything unusual and tell them that there's a perfectly scientific explanation for the crazy shit they've been experiencing. I told them to get out so we could test the place for black mold. They ran as fast as they could, left the place empty for me to run down the remains. So, I'm searchin' the place with my EMF reader and there's a knock at the door. I open, pretend I live there. It's Asa, flashing his 'Fox Mulder' badge." Everyone chuckled, knowing they'd all talked shit to the man about that particular alias.

"Anyway, he goes on this whole spiel about a gas leak that might be affecting the occupants of the house. I patiently let him get through the entire speech and then, I pull my EMF reader out and look him dead in the eye and say 'Guess I don't need this, then' and he sighed this huge relieved sigh, strokes his beard, and says 'Oh, thank God. Even I wouldn't have believed me on that one'." You laughed and the others followed suit. "He came in, we knocked out the spirit in a couple hours and then, he took me for a beer. Spent the whole night telling me all about hunting and giving me pointers. I mean, it's not five wendigos, but I like it."

Everyone groaned as they drank. "Asa actually took me on a wendigo hunt. Maybe I should tell that story." You finished.

"She's trying to kill us." Alicia accused.

"Hey, you guys should've picked a drinking game that I couldn't hack so easily."

A look of recognition crossed Sam's face. "I remember you."

"Do you?" You said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What was it, five years ago? You saved my ass from that little blond witch." Sam smiled and shook his head.

"It was four years ago." You corrected. "And you did your own saving. I just gave passwords and distraction."

"Gave more than that." Sam chuckled, taking a drink.

"Not to you." You muttered, lifting your beer in a mock toast.

"Wait." Alicia said, scooting forward to the edge of her seat. "I've known you for almost two years and you never thought to tell me you met the Winchesters?!"

You shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal. I barely spent any time with them."

"'bout six hours." Dean finally spoke from his spot in the corner. "And most of that was spent with me."

You smiled at the room. "Well, you're the one who offered pie. If Sam had given me some pastry, I would've spent more time with him."

"Right. Pie and bourbon. That's why you were with me." Dean said, skeptically.

"Well, I can't think of another reason, Dean. Hoping for anything more can only be considered foolish." Dean's eyebrow twitched as you polished off the rest of your beer and stood, setting the empty on the table. "I need another beer. Anybody else?"

Dean followed you as you exited the room. "You're a hunter, now?"

You scoffed. "Of course, I am." You turned to him and poked his chest. "No thanks to you."

"What's that mean?"

"You come in, tell me everything is real, shake up my life and my entire worldview and then you never pick up the phone."

"What?"

You scoffed. "You gave me your cell number and told me to call and I did. I kept calling way past the point where it made me feel naive, calling and leaving shaky voicemail messages, so worried that I might be bugging my hero. You never picked up, never called back, even when I started leaving info about possible cases." You pushed your hair out of your face and looked up at him. "So, I started taking the cases, myself."

"That's dangerous. You know that's dangerous."

You nodded. "I do know that. I, also, know that I'm still alive, so..." You shrugged.

"Come on, Y/n. It's reckless to hunt alone."

"You've hunted alone. Sam, too. Your father hunted alone most of your life. I'm fine, Dean. I've survived; with a little help from my friends. Hunters like Asa, who always answered his phone for me."

"Yeah, I bet he did. I bet that lady-killer would drop anything for you."

You rolled your eyes. "Snide jealousy looks real good on you."

"You not even gonna let me explain?"

"Explain? Explain what? You gonna tell me that your phone was just always dead? That's gonna explain you sending me to voice after two rings? Or you showing up in Enid, Oklahoma after I left you a message about that taxidermist who got turned into a people pretzel?"

"Sam made us go. I didn't even wanna go on that one!" Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I got every one of your messages, but things... got complicated."

"Complicated?! Too complicated to answer your phone? Bullshit! As someone who knows, intimately, the complicated shit you've been through, you can't tell me that."

"I can, actually!" Dean exclaimed. "I was a demon two years ago, Y/n!"

You blanched, all anger flowing out of you. "What?"

Dean took a deep breath and leaned against the hallway wall. "Now, that's not an excuse for four years ago, just a... tidbit of complicated for you. When you were calling, I was focused on Sam and Cas... the angels that fell from Heaven. Those trials I told you about, to shut the gates of Hell, they almost killed Sammy. The only way to keep him alive was to trick him into saying 'yes' to being an angel vessel. Angel said his name was Ezekial, Cas, who was human because he had his grace stolen by Metatron, vouched for the angel, but he was really Gadreel, the angel who let Lucifer into the Garden. When I tried to get him out of Sam, he killed prophet Kevin and went to work for Metatron, who decided he was going to be the new God. While that was happening, there was also a thing with Crowley fighting for the throne in Hell with a Demon Knight named Abaddon, who I was obsessed with killing. I was so obsessed with killing that bitch that I actively sought out and accepted the Mark of fucking Cain because it was the only way to put her down." He bit his lip and shook his head. "The Mark of Cain changed me. I was... bloodthirsty, mean... Y/n, I hated me, Sam hated me, and I didn't want you to hate me, too. So, I just never answered the phone."

"So... how'd you-"

"Mark of Cain." He interrupted, knowing where you were going. "Metatron killed me, it brought me back."

"As a demon?"

"As a full-blown Knight of Hell."

"Like... the bitch you got the Mark to gank?" Dean nodded. "What was that like? I mean, I've been possessed, but that is-"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "You got possessed?"

You looked down, embarrassed. "Yeah, my tattoo got damaged in a fight with a shifter. It was still healing when I got grabbed by this demon, Yala. Asa exorcised it before it did too much damage. No one died. It was a good hunt."

"Yala... oh, I met that piece of shit when I was... He's one of Crowley's advisors. What'd you do to get his attention?"

"Who said I did something? Maybe Yala just needed a new meatsuit."

"Demons don't possess hunters on a whim, Y/n. They do it for revenge, or to get information. They do it to kill other hunters. Why you?"

"I might have been looking into Crowley's whereabouts and activities at the time Yala took me." You relented.

"Why the hell would you-"

"I was curious!" You defended. "I heard something big was making its way and figured Crowley had to have his hand in it, 'cause that's what he does, so I thought if I found Crowley, I'd find the Darkness."

"You were looking for the Darkness?" Dean asked, disbelieving. "You went from chasin' poltergeists to the Darkness in less than 4 years?"

"Well, I didn't get very far. Asa wouldn't let me keep lookin' after Yala took me."

"Amara would've killed you. She would have eaten your soul." Dean said, seriously.

"Amara? You are on a first-name basis with the Darkness?"

Dean chuckled, but there was an edge of anger behind it. "My connection with the Darkness is irrelevant. You got yourself on Crowley's radar."

"And you were a fucking demon! Who here has more to feel ashamed of?" You responded, your anger flaring back up.

"You shouldn't feel ashamed, you should feel terrified! Crowley might have gone a bit soft, but he's still fuckin' Crowley. He's still the King of Hell and you ought to-"

"Shut up, Dean." You interrupted. You turned and threw your hands in the air. "I don't need your help, I don't need your judgement, and I don't need you. I've done just fine over the last four years and for you to come in and try to tell me what-"

"You've done just fine? It sounds like Asa Fox kept you alive, sweetheart, and he's not around anymore."

You turned back to him and growled. "Fine! I'll just hang up my shotgun and go back to working retail!"

"No one said you had to quit! You just can't be this goddamn reckless."

"Are you kidding me?! You're gonna lecture me about recklessness?! You? Mr. Sell-my-soul? Mr. Let's-put-a-bullet-in-the-devil? Mr. Mark-of-Cain? You have no room to talk!"

"I have been doing this my whole life. I have been hunting and making stupid decisions since before you ever considered the supernatural. It's not reckless if you have experience, which I have in spades. You have a few dozen books and some pretty words. You wanted to live the adventure instead of writing about it-"

You interrupted him with a right hook to his jaw. He reeled back, shocked by the sudden pain radiating up his face. You rubbed your knuckles and shook your head at him. "Fuck you." You turned and stomped down the hallway toward the front door. As you got into your car and peeled out of the driveway, your phone started to ring. You didn't need to look at the phone to answer, putting the phone to your ear. "Yeah, Jody?"

"Well, that was explosive."

You sighed. "It could've gone better, but... whatever. He's an ass."

"Yeah. But he's a good man. You know he is."

"No. Asa was a good man and I'm sorry to cut out of his wake early. I'll be back in the morning for the burn, but... I can't be around Dean Winchester right now."

"Yeah. I heard some of that. We all heard some of that. The Banes twins are extremely jealous of you. That you... and Dean..."

"Oh, my god!" You had very specifically neglected to mention aloud that you... and Dean... "Those two are never gonna leave me alone about that. Shit."

"Yeah, unfortunately Sam has started regaling the group with a story about a hotel suite and... some very loud noises."

"Oh, no. I'm never gonna be able to face these guys again."

"Well, you're still coming back for the burn, right? Asa would-"

You shook your head. "I wouldn't miss it, Jody. If it were anybody other than Asa, I wouldn't show and I probably won't show for future hunter functions, but it is Asa and I need to be there for that burn."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you at sun-up. Don't drink too much."

You chuckled. "Probably will. I'll see you in the morning." You hung up the phone and tossed it in the passenger seat.

You'd definitely be drinking. Sam Winchester was telling a room full of hunters that you were a notch on Dean Winchester's belt. Dean Winchester disparaged your ability as a hunter. Dean Winchester was a dick, and Asa Fox was dead. As you twisted the cap off of your bourbon and flopped onto your motel bed, you looked up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Dean's jealous comment about Asa, and the implication he meant with it, had been true. Asa would have dropped everything for you. He had dropped everything on a couple occasions to come help you with a hunt. The man was quite a bit older than you, but you never hesitated to get in his bed, just like countless other women. Even knowing that there were countless other women, even knowing your friend Jody was one of those women, even knowing you were only on his list because he only saw you a few times a year... even knowing that there was absolutely no chance of anything real with him, you never hesitated.

You took a drink of your bourbon and stretched your neck to the side. "Asa, you beautiful dumbass. Couldn't just leave Jael alone, could you? We could be drinking together tonight. I never would have had to see Dean. No one would know my origin story. It's all your fault. Dumb jerk." You took another drink and kicked your boots off.

* * * * * * *

You pulled back into the driveway as the bodies were being placed on the pyre. "Why are there three bodies?" You asked Max as he walked up to your car. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh, you missed a horrible night. Jael possessed Alicia and killed Randy. Then, he took Elvis and twisted his head all the way around. You were lucky for leaving when you did, you missed a hard exorcism." Max answered.

"And the revelation that Bucky killed Asa." Alicia added.

"What?! Why would he-"

"He's a coward." Max answered.

You shook your head. "I can't believe... who's that with Lorraine and Jody?"

"Uh, some hunter named Mary. She's close with Sam and Dean." Max looked from the group of women standing by the pyre to you. "Not close like you and Dean, but..."

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn't just forget that over the night with Jael, could you?"

"Come on. Most hunters get into the gig with a tragic death, or... they're born into it. You actively chose to become a hunter because of a one-night stand with Dean Winchester. That's crazy. I can't believe you kept that story from us." Alicia whispered, excitedly.

You sighed. "It wasn't something I was proud of. Am proud of. Look, I'm just as much a hunter as anyone else. I didn't want you to know how I figured out everything, because I knew you'd think I was less... legit than the rest of you."

"No. Not at all. That makes you more legit. You chose, wanted, this life. That's more badass than anything we've heard." Max scoffed.

"Yeah, okay. I'm, uh, gonna go pay my respects." You said, stepping away. Jody looked back at you as you approached the trio standing in front of the pile of wood. She reached her hand back and pulled you closer to her side. "I'm sorry I missed the fun. Heard it was almost enough to make people forget my drama earlier in the night."

"Almost." Jody said, before gesturing at the blond. "Y/n, this is Mary Winchester. Mary, this is Y/n."

You turned, blinking at the woman dumbly. "Mary Winchester?" The blond nodded, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Mary Winchester? The mom? You're the- you- I thought- wow! I guess resurrection runs in the family. It is an honor to meet you." You finally came out of your stupor and raised a hand to shake hers.

Mary smiled, slightly. "It runs more in the family than you'd think. You, uh, you know Dean and Sam?"

You laughed, nervously. "Not really. I... we've met. It's not... uh, I'm... I know of them a-and you by extension, but..." You scratched your cheek as you tried to think of words that wouldn't make you seem insane. "I'm not exactly sure how to explain this, but suffice it to say, I'm a fan."

"I died in 1983 and came back from the dead in 2016. After figuring out laptop computers and smart phones, I'm not surprised by anything anymore."

You chuckled, opening your mouth to respond, but noticing Dean staring at you from across the front yard you decided against it. "Uh, I... if I have time after the burn, Mrs. Winchester, I'll explain." You said, nodding at her before walking away toward your car.

Dean stepped away from Sam and came to stand by you. "Please, don't punch me. Can we talk?"

"Are you gonna make comments about my recklessness and assume that I'm only alive because Asa took an interest in me?"

"No. Promise."

You nodded and took a seat on your car's hood. "Okay. Shoot."

"So, I figured out last night, sometime before the first body dropped, that when you stopped calling I thought you'd given up. I hoped you had. I wanted you to go back to your normal life, forget about me and hunting and Chuck's books." He sighed. "When you walked into the room, yesterday, in your boots and plaid with your Asa hunting stories... I realized that I missed an opportunity. Asa took you hunting and it should've been me."

You shook your head. "I do most of my hunting solo, Winchester. Asa helped... when I got in too deep. Which wasn't as often as you seem to think."

"Doesn't matter. I should've been there. I should've been the one to take you on your first hunt, I should've been the one you called when you got in over your head. I'm the one who started it."

"Technically, Chuck started it. He's the one who got me interested in..."

"But Chuck didn't make me tell you it was real. I did that and I still don't know why."

"Yeah, me either. My story wasn't that good, and my performance in the hotel suite obviously wasn't either."

He sighed, shaking his head. "That is so not true and you know it. I mean, come on. Asa came when you called. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart, bring the next generation of hunters up."

"You're assuming Asa only fucked with me because he was fucking me." You clarified.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not the only reason, but I know that it played a part. Look, I'm trying to apologize here and I don't think it's comin' out that way."

"Definitely not."

Dean ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "You should come with me and Sam. I mean... I never got to tell you about that Amazon. Or... Chuck. We found out where he went when he disappeared. You're never gonna believe-"

"Look, you don't have to do this. You don't have to... pretend that-"

"I'm not pretending anything. Y/n, I've thought about you. I've considered- shit... I'm really not good at this." He chuckled at himself and shook his head. "I want you to be... Come talk to me, at least. I mean, I'd like you to see the bunker, meet my Mom, hunt with the Winchesters, you know, but... I owe you a couple years worth of stories. I never finished getting you up to speed on what happened after the Apocalypse."

"I think we're up to 6 years of info, Dean." You said, smiling up at him.

"Well, if you come with me and Sammy, we can get you all caught up, and I promise I won't stop talking halfway through to have sex."

"Who said I would even be receptive to that?"

"How you look at me. Speaks volumes for you." He said, cockily.

You gave a little chuckle. "Fine. I'll listen to your stories, but that's it."

"You gonna come to the bunker or do you want me to come to your place?"

"I don't have a place, anymore." You patted your hood. "I've got a car. That's been enough for the last three years or so."

"Aw, look at you, little hunter." Dean circled around your car. "1970 Chevy Chevelle. Malibu?"

"It's a '67. A Chevelle 300 Deluxe. Someone is slacking on his Chevy knowledge."

"Why didn't you get an Impala? What kind of fan-"

"Ah! Not. Dude, Dean, I haven't been a fan in a long time."

He walked back to the front of the car, hands going into his pockets. "So, you don't write your little stories, anymore?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Haven't written anything in years. I've been too busy living the life to write about it."

"Well, that's sad. You were pretty good at it."

"Oh, shut up and give me directions to your bunker."

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[chibioniyuri]

So, I wanted to share my current medical status with y’all, but only if you want to actively read it, so I’ll be throwing it behind a cut. Plus it’s pretty long. So there’s that.

So, I have a brain tumor.

Only, technically not. It’s within the skull but outside the dura mater, the protective membrane around your brain itself. So, technically not a brain tumor.

But let’s start from the beginning.

Starting around summer of last year, my grandmother was in and out of the hospital. Falling without being able to get up on her own, leading her to spend the entire night sitting on the floor waiting for someone to visit her because the phone was out of reach. Pneumonia extending her hospital stay. Getting home and refusing the home health care my uncle and aunt set up for her. Falling again. Repeat.

Around August-ish, my aunt was cleaning her apartment for her and found pain killers stashed all over the apartment. In bottles. Free pills on her walker. Next to the phone, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, stashed in both nightstands. Turns out she’d been asking nearly everyone who visited her to bring her bottles “because she was running low.” Including us. We could get large bottles of Excedrin from Sam’s Club for cheaper than were available in her country. We’d bring over two extra large bottles. We didn’t think anything of it; our visits were spaced roughly four years apart. But concurrently, some tests were showing the beginning stages of liver and kidney damage that could be caused by self-medicating in the way my grandmother was.

Cut to me. “Wa-oh,” says I.

For like two and a half years, that I could remember, I’d been having trouble sleeping. Beyond the normal, that is. Taking over an hour to fall asleep, sleeping roughly three hours at a time, eventually needing to take naps on my days off just to function safely on my work days. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was finishing school. Looking for a house. Moving back into my parents’ house so I wouldn’t have to break a lease when I finally found “the one.” Exposing myself back to my dad’s special brand of tough love. I figured it was just stress, and that it would go away when things were less hectic.

They didn’t.

Right around April of last year, my headaches starting spiking. Again, I didn’t think much of it. For most of my life, I’ve dealt with headaches. I’ve become a pro at the art of ignoring the headache away. But suddenly, I was having migraine-level headaches, frequently. I explained it away as lack of sleep. This was about a year and a half into the lack of sleep saga. It seemed reasonable to me. And I was more concerned about the nearly-falling-asleep-while-driving and the crying on the way to work and the endless feeling of “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

But these new headaches were debilitating. So... I started self-medicating. A lot.

I really should have been more aware; I mean, as a medical professional, there were so many red flags. But nothing like that could ever happen to me, right? I was just weak. Attention-grabbing. I just needed to suck it up and get back to work. My dad, after all, had never taken a sick day in twenty years, even if he was sick. He’d had some baaaad headaches, too, and he just powered through. I needed to do the same.

My grandmother was a wake-up call for me.

I finally convinced myself to do something about it September of last year. I thought it was just my thyroid. It controls so many things: your sleep cycle, your metabolism, your temperature regulation. My doctor initially agreed with me, and blood tests corroborated it. My thyroid hormone was low.

Something must have niggled at my doctor though, because she ordered more tests. Then more. First blood tests. I was stuck so many times, it was ridiculous. I counted 9 vials in one sitting, which.... personally, is a record. I can’t speak about the standard levels for anyone else. Then an ultrasound of my thyroid. Nothing too abnormal. Some nodules that were enlarged, but nothing alarming. An MRI of my brain. Just a precaution, she said. Some of my medical history meant that she wanted to fully rule some things out.

I had my MRI on a Wednesday. That Friday, her nurse called me. Said that my doctor wanted to talk to me about my results. That I should just name a time that day and she would make sure it was available.

Oh shit.

I called my mom. I remember thinking that I wasn’t reacting the way I thought someone who received bad news should. I was acting like I had a particularly juicy piece of gossip. Jovial, almost.

“Hey mom,” I said. “That thing I was joking about, back when she first mentioned the MRI? Tumors and cancer? The thing I said wouldn’t happen to me? Pretty sure she found it.”

“What?”

“Her nurse just called. Told me to name a time I can come in today. Whatever time, and it would be available. That only happens with bad news, right? She found it. Mom, I have a brain tumor.”

My mom told me that I had to hear the actual words from my doctor’s mouth before I could worry. And that if it was real, we would deal with it. And that I should call my dad so he could come with me.

So I did. He told me roughly the same thing, that I couldn’t be sure until the doctor said it herself. And that I should schedule it so my mom could go with me.

“I scheduled it for roughly an hour from now.”

“Oh. I guess your mom can’t go with you, then.”

No mention of him going. I was too afraid to ask.

I found out later that he had already started drinking and was too afraid that someone would figure it out. He’s the type of alcoholic that feels like, since he named himself an alcoholic, that’s it, kumbayah, crack open a cold one, but instinctively lies to medical professionals about his level of intake. He excused it away by saying he wasn’t really an emotionally supportive guy anyway, and he didn’t offer because he didn’t think I wanted him there. Plus, he said, he would’ve started crying and that’s not being emotionally supportive. I agree that he would’ve. I also think he fell into a mild depressive state because his employer declared bankruptcy and he was without the job he’d worked at since being honorably discharged from the military in 1995 and was having an identity crisis because so much of his personal identity is tied up into his work, and without it, he’s nothing. But you’re not here to read about my analysis of my dad.

So I sat alone in that room while my doctor told me I had a tumor on my pituitary gland. That it was pretty large and probably the cause of a lot of the lethargy and difficulty sleeping. That I should let her know if I start having headaches.

“I’ve got those,” I said.

“You didn’t mention it to me?”

“No. I mean, I’ve had them since puberty, really. They were more frequent, recently, but I thought it was the not sleeping thing.”

She made sure I walked out with a referral to the neurosurgeon in my hand and advised me to call him right away. Well, as soon as my insurance cleared.

Since October, I’ve struggled to feel it was real. I’ve sort of stepped aside from it, I guess. I’ve viewed it as one of those interesting case studies from nursing school. “Mary’s MRI results show a 2cm growth on her pituitary gland. Her growth hormone levels are __. She complains of headaches, lethargy, insomnia, and weight gain. What nursing diagnoses would apply to this case? What interventions would you consider implementing?”

I’ve analyzed my reactions and compared them to the stories I’ve read, fictional and anecdotal, about others dealing with serious medical issues and found myself lacking. I’ve thought of how I would write this situation. Definitely dread, I decided. Fear. Worry. A sense that suddenly, the world is crashing down around you. And alternately, a sort of freeing feeling. Suddenly, you can go out into the world and really live like it’s your last day.

And then I looked at my bank account. I looked at my insurance paperwork. I decided that I couldn’t afford the surgery to remove it until next year. Definitely couldn’t take the time off to process it. Gotta make that money, pay those bills.

“You’re so strong,” one of my fellow nurses tells me. I want to tell her I’m not. I’m just incredibly aware that I’m financially precarious and that I can’t afford anything else. And it’s so much easier to fall into routine and focus on caring for someone else. Avoidance at its best.

So why am I sharing this all of a sudden?

My surgery is in less than two weeks: April 4. And it’s definitely real now.

Suddenly, all that stuff that I imagined writing is happening to me. The closer that date crawls, the worse I feel. At first, it was mild concern. It’s approaching absolute terror now, though.

I’m about to let someone send some tools up my nose, poke around in my brain, and remove some bits of myself that have gone renegade. I’ll be in the ICU in case of complications. I’ll need someone with me for a while afterwards, when I finally get discharged. I have absolutely no idea how I’ll pay for it, considering my credit card has wracked up a truly impressive balance due to my car breaking down last year, and then all the lab work, diagnostic tests, and specialist visits, which let me tell you, are a special sort of expensive hell. Add on my mortgage and my student debts, and I squeak by every month. I’ll probably pick up a second job to help out with whatever costs I accrue.

One good thing about this is that my dad has stopped asking me “do you want mine?” when I mention I have a headache. But now he’s joking that I’ll be in the hospital for ages because, “I hate to say it like this, but you don’t do so well with the pain thing.” Fuck you.

The truly good thing: my brother got leave from the Air Force to come home for a week. We haven’t seen him since last July, when he came home for our it’s-been-four-years-time-to-go-to-Germany trip. I’m so happy about that, I could cry. I probably will before this whole thing is over.

So, there you go. The full update.

I’ll probably be typing more things up to work through this. Typing all this out has been oddly cathartic.

[lindyhunt]

Everything That Upset the Internet This Week

What is the web-o-sphere angry about this week? A Kardashian sister showing off her privilege, coconut oil and an MTV reality series reboot. Here’s everything you need to know.

Kendall Jenner shows off her privilege

THE STORY: Last week, U.K.’s Love magazine posted an excerpt of its interview with Jenner from its September issue on Instagram. In the post, Jenner is quoted saying: “Since the beginning we’ve been super selective about what shows I would do. I was never one of those girls who would do like 30 shows a season or whatever the fuck those girls do. More power to ‘em. But I had a million jobs, not only catwalks but everything else.”

THE REACTION: 

Kendall Jenner calls herself a supermodel when literally the only reason she has a career is because her mom made a phone call & bought it for her….yet she has the audacity to shame models that actually worked hard to be successful I HAVE TO LAUGH

— • (@hauteisabel) August 20, 2018

does kendall jenner realize that the majority of models don't come from rich families and actually have to do more than 30 shows per season to survive? most models work 10 times harder than she does and get paid far less. her ugly rich privilege is truly showing

— caroline (@truthoflusts) August 20, 2018

other models: attend multiple castings a day, started modeling at 14 to maybe get noticed at 20, share an apartment with 6 other aspiring models, use all their money to travel for castings, work hard as fuck to get an agency

kendall jenner: pic.twitter.com/TOpTplOss2

— manu (@lilkissytim) August 20, 2018

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: Without context, this sounds really bad. Jenner is speaking about her mental health, saying that she “was on the verge of a mental breakdown” and “needed to take a step back.” Which, you know what, is totally fair—it’s extremely important to take care of you mental health. But, what Jenner forgets, is that not everyone has a fat bank account to lean back on when they’re feeling on the edge and need a break. When you have privilege—especially in an industry where so many of your peers don’t—you need to check it. Which, we hoped, Jenner would do when she responded to the backlash. She didn’t.

On Tuesday evening, she wrote to Twitter: “I was misrepresented in a recent interview over the wknd [sic] & it’s important to clarify the meaning. It was intended to be entirely complimentary but unfortunately, my words were twisted & taken out of context. I want to be clear. The respect that I have for my peers is immeasurable!”

I was misrepresented in a recent interview over the wknd & it’s important to clarify the meaning. It was intended to be entirely complimentary but unfortunately, my words were twisted & taken out of context.I want to be clear. The respect that I have for my peers is immeasurable!

— Kendall (@KendallJenner) August 21, 2018

I get to experience first hand their tireless commitment, their work ethic, the endless days, the lack of sleep, separation from family and friends, stress of traveling, the toll on physical and mental health, yet they still make it all look effortless and beautiful.

— Kendall (@KendallJenner) August 21, 2018

I’m inspired by so many of these people i have had the good fortune to work alongside! There’s no way i could EVER hate on that ❤️ i want everyone to win. SLAY ALWAYS.

— Kendall (@KendallJenner) August 21, 2018

Okay…not exactly an apology. There’s a way to check your privilege, and there’s a way not to. For example, many people on Twitter drew a comparision between Kendall Jenner’s statement and an interview Gigi Hadid did with Vogue Australia earlier this year. The two supermodels, whose careers have in many ways mirrored one another, speak about their privilege in the modelling industry with very different language.

“I know I come from privilege, so when I started there was this big guilt of privilege, obviously,” Hadid said. “I’ve always had this big work ethic, because my parents came from nothing and I worked hard to honour them.” Hadid recalled how as a young model, her mother would send money earned from modelling in the US to her family back home in Holland. “There are so many girls who come [from] all over the world and work their arses off and send money home to their families like my mother did, and I wanted to stand next to them backstage and for them to look at me and respect me and to know that it’s never about me trying to overshadow or take their place. So when I started out I wanted to prove myself so badly that sometimes I would overwork myself.”

A Harvard professor calls coconut oil “pure poison”

THE STORY: In an educational talk about nutritional errors, Dr. Karin Michels, a professor at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, said that the coconut oil is “one of the worst foods you can eat.”

THE REACTION:

Coffee is good for you, coffee is bad for you. a glass of wine a day is ok, a glass a day is bad, chocolate will make you live longer, chocolate is bad for you… IT NEVER ENDS… https://t.co/wzUPlA63mz

— drex (@drex) August 21, 2018

So what am i to do with my truckload of #coconutoil now Harvard pic.twitter.com/8zVN6qWeVl

— Ayo Milaje (@ayusfagbo) August 22, 2018

Step 1: claim coconut oil is poison & kill market Step 2: sell us some junk substitute Step 3: patent coconut oil Step 4: say oops, junk substitute is actually toxic Step 5: sell us coconut oil

We've seen this kind of cycle before. Wiser now https://t.co/5cgCiPeIjh

— Smita Barooah (@smitabarooah) August 22, 2018

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: I’m not a doctor, I have no idea if coconut oil is good or bad for you. (Though, before reading all this science nonsense, I definitely thought that using coconut oil as a butter substitute would definitely make me live longer. I think was wrong?)

With information coming from both sides, it’s hard to know what to believe. It would be a whole lot easier if all this nutrition stuff was a little more black and white. And that’s pretty much all I have to say about this. Oh, one quick question though: it’s totally okay if I continue using coconut oil for literally every step in my beauty routine, right?

The Hills is being rebooted — without Lauren Conrad

THE STORY: Cast members from The Hills, the hit MTV reality series that aired from 2006 to 2010, reunited at Monday’s VMAs to announce a revival of show. Spencer and Heidi Pratt (with their baby, Gunner), Audrina Patridge, Frankie Delgado, Jason Wahler, Justin “Justin Bobby” Brescia, and Stephanie Pratt all showed up to declare they’d be continuing the show’s legacy with The Hills: New Beginnings.

Notably missing: Brody Jenner, Whitney Port, Lo Bosworth, Kristen Cavallari. Oh, and Lauren Conrad.

THE REACTION:

IT'S NOT THE REUNITED CAST OF THE HILLS IF LAUREN ISN'T THERE

— Sam Lansky (@samlansky) August 21, 2018

MTV: the hills is coming back!

me: THE HILLS ISNT THE HILLS WITHOUT LC pic.twitter.com/8IZXodyWZu

— Faysal (@brunchandbutts) August 21, 2018

So this hills is coming back without lauren Conrad? CANCEL IT

— Lizvasquez (@Lizchallenge_) August 21, 2018

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: A source shared Lauren Conrad’s reason for skipping the reunion with People: “She’s in a different place in her life. But she wants everyone to enjoy themselves. She wishes everyone the best.”

Translation: Conrad is happily married with a 13 month old son. She is The New York Times bestselling author of nine books, helms her own website and brand and is co-founder of The Little Market, a nonprofit marketplace opening its first retail location in Pacific Palisades, California, next month.

Translation:

lauren conrad is at home w her hot white king and cute baby sipping her white wine minding her business at peace knowing she doesn't need a check so badly that she has to be on the hills reboot

— Betty Zolciak (@paigemichalchux) August 21, 2018

[writingcommons-blog1]

“The Fine Line Between Love & Hate “ by Peyten L.

Toxicity. Self worth. Destruction. Forgiveness. Alteration. Judgement. Joy. Tears. You. I. Us. Love How did we become these words – at what point did these words start to become what I defined as love? 

Two years ago, if Sam had asked me to describe us, and what I felt for him I would’ve said something along the lines of how he made me feel like summer… warm, free, sun kissed, and enlightened in the sense that I finally felt like I had found where I belonged – with him. When we would sit on the cool blacktop on the peak of his steep driveway, in front of the sunflower yellow home where he once lived, and watch the sky fade away as night cast over the day, I would look into his deep blue eyes and know that what we had was real. 

I knew that I was loved and that I loved him. When I reflect on the conversations we had when I felt like we were the most us, the happiest, there’s one that I go back to every time.

He had said “time goes by too fast with you.”

And I had said “It always goes by too fast. It probably always will” “I’ll always have time for you though.”

“Pomise?”

“I promise”

I didn’t know that our time was limited, that it would go by that fast and this would be a promise that would be broken. It was the feeling of warmth, the open promises we made, the love that I know I felt that kept me going when we would fight or he would become something he wasn’t in the beginning. When we were summer, I was consumed by the thought of us and our future together. The idea of us became entangled into every thought I had, I thought it was normal. I wanted to spend every second with him. His house became my second home, his family like my own and vice versa. His family gave me a stocking at Christmas, took me on vacation, and even cried when I left for college. Our lives were completely intertwined in every aspect. I didn’t realize that letting him into every minuet detail of my life meant that each memory of that time would be tainted and leave a burning feeling in my mouth when I talked about them two years later.

We weren’t summer for long, or maybe I should say that he wasn’t. Autumn came. We didn’t sit outside and talk anymore, and when I peered into Sam’s eyes he didn’t smile like he used to. In the beginning, I’d catch him glancing down at me, not smiling ear to ear, but presenting a small grin that said what his words didn’t… “I’m happy, I love you, and I don’t want anyone else.” A while passed though and he didn’t look at me like I put the stars in the sky, and he definitely didn’t half smirk at me anymore. I knew he wasn’t as smitten as he once was.

“I love you Sam.”

“Why do you say that so much?”

He started replying with that more often, and each time it felt like I had been punched in the gut by the Hulk. I wondered if maybe I did say it too much, and that something was wrong with me because I wanted him to say it more. I felt needy and I started to wonder if most people in relationships feel needy, because why should I feel needy if I have everything I needed? If I laid my head on Sam’s chest his heart wouldn’t beat fast anymore, the butterflies had faded. When we were us, I learned how to drive with just my left hand so my right one could be placed in his.  

But he stopped calling me beautiful and stopped holding my hand in the car. I thought maybe it was supposed to be this way, the honeymoon phase is over, this is what normalcy is. I altered my way of love. I always thought that love was supposed to be something that consumed you at every minute of every day, love was supposed to make you so slap happy that you looked like a drunk person every time you lost yourself in the thought of the one you loved. But he made me think I was wrong, that we loved each other, but that we didn’t need to show it anymore.

Autumn was okay, But then his season turned. I looked into his blue eyes, and instead of losing myself in them the way someone loses themselves reading an epic novel, I lost myself in a way that made me feel like I was submerged under water floating right underneath the surface, but knowing that coming up for air was an impossible task to do. I would look at him just as I always had and he would ask me why I had such a staring problem or just ignore my eye contact. Despite his changes, I constantly did everything in my power to show him the affection I thought he deserved. I brought him lunch, picked him up for school everyday, helped him in school to the point where I would stay up to do his work on top of my own. He used to say thank you when I did things like this. The thank you stopped and there were some points where I would silently cry to myself laying next to him in bed, wondering why he didn’t appreciate what I had done. Maybe I hadn’t done enough?  I used to think that he was the breath of fresh air I needed, when really it was his thumb that was pushing on my trachea slower and slower, ultimately suppressing the most human ability – breathing. His words once filled with warmth, were now frozen leaving frostbite on my self worth and outlook on life. He stopped inviting me places, and his sentences contained more swear words than ones that weren’t. He not only became cold, but then became untrustworthy. Acquaintances would text my friends telling them that they saw Sam out all over a bunch of girls, acting like he wasn’t in a relationship. When I would confront him he would turn it around on me.

“If you can’t trust me after two fucking years, then what the fuck are we even doing together?” Sam would say.

“I do trust you, just promise me that you’ll try and be better about telling me who you’re with?”

“Well I’ll fucking try, but all you do is bitch. You just need to trust me.”

Our conversations like this were frequent, and then we would be okay and I would feel that he loved me, and then he would fuck up again. It became what felt like an endless cycle. I would pretend like he didn’t lie, and I would defend him to my friends and family that clearly could see what I couldn’t – that he was deceptive, a liar, and that he didn’t make me feel warm anymore. I had nightmares about him cheating on me, and I honestly thought that maybe something was seriously wrong with me because I didn’t feel the love he supposedly gave me. I blamed it on myself thinking that I just had trust issues. I knew we were not summer, and we were not fall, we were winter – and the most unequivocally gut wrenching part of it all was that I was willing to endure the blizzard that he had become, purely because I had lost myself trying to hold on to the love we once had.

***

It’s August 27th, two days after Sam and Payten’s two year anniversary, she lives in Iowa City now though and he is still in high school in the town they lived in. He never stopped becoming winter and as his storm raged on, she become more frozen and numb. Numb to how he made her feel, numb to the words of spite he would throw at it her, like “you’re a dumbass, you’re not pretty… stop fucking crying I didn’t even yell at you, you’re such a child.”  Here’s the thing about being frozen though… something that’s frozen must inevitably break.

It’s midnight and Payten has finally broken, in more ways than one. She has just read the derogatory messaging between Sam and another girl, who he had supposedly slept with a few months prior. This girl was Payten’s friend, teammate and co-worker, which was why it was easy for her to not believe it when people had said Sam slept with her. Payten knows that she shouldn’t dig through his twitter account, but she’s so far away distance wise and he’s been so distant emotionally. She knows he has the same password for everything, so she decides it’s finally time to pry the truth if he won’t willingly give it to her.

“You have been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system”

Payten calls back, again and again, waiting an hour in between. Her hands are shaking as she dials the phone each time, tears hitting the illuminated screen as she thinks of everything she will actually say when he finally answers. She thinks of what she wants to say, of what he will say. Part of her though, hopes that he doesn’t answer.Because the conversation she read, which depicted a scene of her boyfriend and another girl in bed together, was nothing she hadn’t heard before. If we are being honest, she half expected to see that conversation on there, but nevertheless seeing it still hurt the same despite the fact that she already knew about it. The girl Sam had been messaging had said how lucky he was that he got to sleep with her and how she’d see him again soon. The messages had been going on for months now.  3 am hits.

“Payten, what the hell do you want?” Sam said.

“Tell me the truth, I mean it this time, you may as well tell me because I already know the truth, so don’t try and deny it.” Payten said.

“Why this is relevant right now?”

“I honestly just want to know why Sam. Why wasn’t I good enough, okay wait scratch that. Was I too good, did you need to self destruct because you couldn’t handle that what we had was real? Seriously you at least owe me an explanation.”

“Payten, there is no reason, I don’t know why I did it.”

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course”

“Because Sam, last time I checked people who love each other don’t sleep with other people”

“Okay Payten”

“That’s it, after two years. All you did was take and take, and you can’t even answer one simple question. Why?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say”

“I want you to say the truth for one damn second of your life”

“That is the truth though, I have no explanation.”

The call ended just as the relationship had.

***

What I still don’t understand is why I wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t the love I gave him enough to make him love me just as much as I loved him? Why did I change myself for someone who didn’t compromise a single thing about himself in two years? Why, even after everything he has done to me, do I still care what happens to him? Why does hearing that his life is falling apart hurt every fiber of my being, when it should make me happy to know that he can’t function well without me? Why does anyone put up with relationships filled with emotional abuse?

Emotional abuse is real, because while I may not have had bruises on my skin, my mental state, self worth, outlook on life and love had all been left broken and bruised. The larger question that this entire situation leaves me thinking about it is why do I, or a majority of all types of people, succumb to lessening ourselves in order to believe that what we have is love. And is that love? Or was there ever even really love there to begin with, because there is a fine line between love and hate. Both feelings of such raw passion, so can you actually have a relationship purely of love or will some hate always fester underneath the surface waiting for it’s moment to burst out and overpower the love that is there? If we gave all of the love we had in a relationship that didn’t give any back, is there any love left to give to the next person that actually deserves it?

This speaks measures to the idea of love in the society which we currently live in. If you look at the divorce rate in our country alone, it has shown that an astronomical amount of people have allowed hate to consume their once pure relationship. If you look at the amount of men and women who lessen themselves and allow for emotional and physical abuse to be welcomed into their relationship, it speaks volumes to how people in our society are so hungry to be loved and to feel loved that they become confused on what love really is. Love is an abstract concept, but if we strip it down to the bare basics of what it really means it is clear to see what love is not. It is not words of hate, degrading yourself, degrading the other person to make yourself feel bigger or better. Love is not cheating, love is not hatred, love is not abuse. If love is not all of these things, then why are so many people, myself included confusing them as attributes of a healthy relationship?