#cause jesus wtf this prompt

[queers-gambit]

Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.1k+

note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?

warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.

The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."

You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "

"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."

"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."

"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."

"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."

"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."

"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"

"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"

"From Paris last month," you chuckled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"

You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."

"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "

"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."

"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"

His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"

"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "

"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."

"Good, you better."

"But in case, call Brian - "

"Aaron!"

He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"

"Maybe on less important days."

"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."

"I always am."

"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "

"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"

"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."

"Again, the Ladybug twat."

"Potato, po-ta-toe."

Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good without me?"

"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."

"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.

"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.

Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.

The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.

So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.

Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.

Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.

You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.

Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.

"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"

"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."

"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."

"Thank you," she sighed.

Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "

"It's Toby."

You blinked, "Huh?"

"Name's Toby," he explained.

"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.

After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"

"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."

Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"

"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"

"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."

"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."

"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."

"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."

"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"

Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.

You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."

"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.

"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"

You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."

"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."

"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.

To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.

"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.

"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."

"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.

Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"

"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."

"Why should we even bother?"

"Because he's important to me!"

"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.

"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "

"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"

"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."

"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.

"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.

"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "

"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"

"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"

"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.

"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "

The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.

However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"

"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.

Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.

These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.

"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "

"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"

Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.

You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."

"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"

"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."

The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.

Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"

"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.

You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.

But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.

The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."

You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.

"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."

"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."

"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."

"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.

Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.

"Go to hell!" You hissed.

"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."

You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.

"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.

You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."

Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.

He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.

"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.

Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"

"A-Aaron?"

"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"

"Th-There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "

"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"

"We can't just - "

"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"

He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"

"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"

Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.

Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?

Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.

Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."

When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.

"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"

Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"

"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"

Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "

"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."

"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."

You sniffled, "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "

"A what?" John asked incredulously.

"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"

"I know what it is - but why go?"

"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"

"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."

Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "

Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"

"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."

"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"

Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.

"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"

"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"

"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.

"I'm not your mate."

"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "

"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."

Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"

Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"

Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"

Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.

"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.

"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"

You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.

"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.

"Okay," you whispered with a nod.

Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Not your fault."

"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."

"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"

"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "

"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."

"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.

"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"

Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."

"They wanna kill her?"

"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."

"How?"

"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."

You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."

"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"

You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.

"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.

"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"

"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.

"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."

Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."

"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"

"Yeah."

"She should eat with it..."

"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"

"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."

"Who?"

"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"

"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.

"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"

"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."

"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"

Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."

Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"

"Mhm."

"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."

Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."

"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."

"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."

"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.

"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."

"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.

"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"

"Mhm."

"That pain pill kicking in yet?"

"Not yet," you yawned.

"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."

"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.

The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "

"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.

Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.

"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "

"Fuck off," Tan snapped.

"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.

"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"

"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."

"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"

"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.

"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.

"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"

"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.

"R&R or mandatory?"

"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."

"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.

"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."

"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"

"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."

"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"

"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."

Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.

The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"

You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.

"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."

"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"

"What?" Kiwi asked.

"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"

"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."

"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."

It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.

"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.

Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.

Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.

"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."

He smirked, "I covered for yah."

"How?"

"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."

"Oh, that's never good."

"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."

"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"

"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"

You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"

"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."

"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."

He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"

"As quick as I can," he swore.

You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.

She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"

"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."

Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."

"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"

"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.

The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.

However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."

Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.

People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.

In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"

The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.

"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"

Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"

"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.

The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.

"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.

Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.

Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.

The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.

Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.

Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."

"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"

"Didn't get shit - "

"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"

Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.

"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"

"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"

"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"

"She's the one who hired us, mate!"

"Liar!"

Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.

Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.

At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.

"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."

"Handle what? What's going on?"

"They're here."

"A-Are we safe?"

"For now."

"Are the lads!?"

"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."

You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.

Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.

When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!

"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."

"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"

"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"

"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.

"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."

"And Brian?"

"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."

You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.

There was nowhere you were safer.

Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[fishermanshook]

116 pulls but i only spent 87 dollars so i’d was worth it (i found 60 bucks randomly so i technically only spent 27 😈)

luck after luck maybe p5 is next w joker!!

also..if a prompt for an ithaqua work went out.. fucking in the snow or semi angst..

Jesus…how do you just find 60 bucks RANDOMLY?!? Call you lucky guy cause WTF

WDYM FYCKING IN THE SNOW?!

Also keeper says congrats!

[mlobsters]

supernatural s8e8 hunteri heroici (w. andrew dabb)

(huh, has he written without daniel loflin before? looks like no, but does exclusively after this)

literal cartoonish death, always a great sign. to go along with the very serious business in the recap

that's one creepy ass smile there, misha lol wtf are you doing. i wanna be a hunter *performing human smile flawlessly*

CASTIEL Can I, uh, at least ride in the front seat? DEAN and SAM simultaneously [SAM while shouldering CASTIEL out of the way] No.

so this is how it's gonna go

DEAN Listen, you see anything weird, anything out of the box, you give us a call. DETECTIVE Whatever you say, Scully.

where the hell did that come from? (picking scully instead of mulder)

*blurry flashback on sam starts to fade in* me, out loud: OH JESUS CHRIST. i know amelia was in the recap but i forgot, okay. i'm so tired of this plot mechanic

this man (brian markinson) has been in so many of my things

the x-files s5e9 folie a deux as gary lambert

the killing s2e12 donnie or marie as gil sloane

mad men s6e2 the doorway, part 2 as dr arnold rosen

the magicians s4e7 the side effect as everett

god mad men was a beautiful show. look at the sets and costumes and lighting. gahhh. and second, he played the character in the magicians that basically caused quentin to kill sacrifice himself and i just got real hurt over it all over again good job, brain-o

i swear i keep getting natalie portman's character in garden state vibes from how she's playing this part

SAM Uh, no. Maintenance, mostly. STAN Ah. Well, that makes sense. 'Cause I got to say, Sam, you look like a real fixer-upper to me.

i laughed out loud because ????? and also sam🧍‍♂️

DEAN Cas, you gonna book a room or what? CASTIEL No, I'll stay here. DEAN Oh, okay. Yeah. We'll have a slumber party, braid Sam's hair. Where are you gonna sleep? CASTIEL I don't sleep. DEAN Okay, well, I need my four hours, so... CASTIEL I'll watch over you. DEAN That's not gonna happen.

what a weird little interaction. i guess cas is back to being clueless about social stuff for comic relief. he had some really good snarky moments there for a bit, why are we backsliding

all right so. weird feelings about this dean cas convo. dean being very.. forthright demanding a serious conversation with cas. but this...

CASTIEL Dean, I... When I was... bad... and I had all those things – the... the leviathans... writhing inside me... I caused a lot of suffering on earth, but I devastated Heaven. I vaporized thousands of my own kind, and I – I – I can't go back. DEAN 'Cause if you do, the angels will kill you. CASTIEL Because if I see what Heaven's become – what I – [sighs] what I made of it... I'm afraid I might kill myself.

i don't like how this is framed to gain sympathy (and i have a general great distaste for how suicide is thrown around in media anyway)

ORDERLY It's creepy, right? A lot of these people – they just tune out and live in their own heads. It's like maybe the real world is too much for them, and they just run and hide, you know?

the way i laughed at that prompt for a flashback

STAN I think the two of you are holding on to each other, yeah. 'Cause I know she's scared. After what happened to Don, I don't blame her for taking off. Needing to run away and hide – I know why she did it. The question is – what are you running from, Sam?

yeah current!sam, what are you running from huh?? good thing the kevin tran thing drags out for a long time so you can figure out you wanna keep hunting or whatever by the time it wraps up

oh gosh, it's bj from mash

m*a*s*h s10e18 heroes - mike farrell as bj hunnicutt

*mumbling threats at the screen, if you flashback again because dean said something about living in a dream world........ 🔪*

SAM Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

it's a 3 way pep talk. everyone here needs it. personally iffy on the whole cartoon schtick but i do like this test pattern room effect

bro please i'm having extreme flashback fatigue 😭

LOL i took a screenshot of dean opening the bottle this way at the beginning of the episode because i was like this is so strange that they're focusing on it, is he using his pocketknife?? also like, opening a beer while getting in the car still at the gas station? well. now i see, more silly setup for a silly payoff later

SAM My, uh – my brother used to do that. STAN Yeah? SAM Yeah. STAN He a good guy? SAM Yeah. Yeah, uh, he – he was... the best. Uh, I, uh... I lost him, and, uh, I ran.

i don't hate the story they're telling through the flashbacks, i just hate how it's executed. i can see why they're doing it this way, so we're not actively suffering through the separation, it already happened. and the people want sam and dean together. but avoiding separating them has also made this really clunky and drag out by chopping it up and sprinkling it over so many episodes

anyway, resurrecting amelia's not-actually-dead husband certainly gives us all a guilt-free out of this whole fucking situation

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

*

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

*

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

*

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

*

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

*

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

*

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

*

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

[bellfort3]

Mbad I didn’t see it was a medieval thing :0

Instead of his garage wilbur just leaves his shed or something unlocked maybe, but since the shed is kinda far from the house Tommy doesn’t use it. Wilbur goes out for a night walk one time and sees the feral child under his porch, he’s surprised

Wilbur contemplates what he should do, Tommy hasn’t caused him any problems yet or anything so why should he report him? Besides, he doesn’t like the rumors about how homeless peasants who get taken in are treated. Wilbur has a sandy snack and then decides to just pick Tommy up and plop him on the couch. Tommy wakes up in the morning and SCREAMS. Comedic panic-arguing ensues, until Tommy realizes he’s with Wilbur. Tommy seems really happy that Wil let him in his house, and Wilbur thinks that it’s just because the kid never had a home before.

Tommy just kind of,,, ends up living there. Wil’s alone a lot of the time and it’s nice to have a new little brother to take up his time, even if they have to set boundaries because jesus christ, Tommy is ALOT. Wilbur finds himself mentally comparing Tommy to a puppy more and more often, huh wonder why.

Wilbur sends a letter to Phil that he got a kid, and Phil is like “Wtf who’s the mom” And Wilburs like “Huh? Idk” Prompting dadza to Rush over to check on his son, only to discover that it is NOT a newborn but a literal feral teenager.

One night the boys have a fight, maybe about how Tommy disappears once a month and Wilbur doesn’t know where he goes, maybe about how Wilbur bottles up his emotions, maybe it’s something dumb. All Wil knows is that Toms seems extra prickly tonight. Tommy locks himself in the guest room Wilbur gave to him, and slams the door harshly. Plot twist: He forgot to check what night it was.

Later, Wilbur hears a roaring sound coming from Tommy’s room, and runs out to find a fuckin monster wolf had broken down the door, and is just LOSING it’s mind. He rushes past the canine only to find Tommy is missing, and Wilbur thinks that the wolf got him. Wilbur thinks that the last conversation he ever had with his little brother was a stupid fight, and he is never going to be able to see him again. In his despair, he goes up to the wolf, “Well then why don’t you Kill me too, you goddamn creature, Kill me!”

To his surprise, the beast calms down.

To his surprise, it just looks at him, relieved.

To his surprise, it speaks, in a familiar voice.

“But you’re my family”

Sorry I don’t know where that last bit came from my fingers word vomitted

HOLY SHIT?!?! I LOVE THIS?!?! Literally what the fuck, this is so good. I’m obsessed with it. The fight scene is a perfect addition to the plot, thank you. Do you have anything else? I have my own ideas but I want to continue developing it!

(P.s. do you have a name you would like to be called?)

[zontiky]

okay so i tried to save this ask as a draft and it got deleted because tumblr is just such a functional website like that <3 but the prompt was “the hargreeves as ghosts in the apocalypse with five” or something like that i’m going to scream

this is SUPER long so i’m putting it under the cut hfkjsd

pre-five: the hargreeves siblings are dead. wait i feel a drabble coming on ooh

The Hargreeves siblings are dead.

Ben isn’t very aware of this at first. He’s been dead since 2006 -- he’s quite used to it, by now. What he is aware of, first, is light. Blinding white light. And Vanya, in the middle of it. He doesn’t close his eyes because he can’t feel pain, but if he could he thinks she would have made him blind. There’s light, and heat, and power, and then he closes his eyes anyway because the ceiling is collapsing around him and it’s instinctual.

When he opens them again he sees ash. Ash -- and Klaus.

He’s gotten used to Klaus, too. Klaus has a memorable sort of face; even if he didn’t, Ben has seen it every single day for almost twenty years. He doesn’t know if it’s actually been twenty years, for him. He doesn’t know how time moves for ghosts. Klaus has assured him it moves the same as it does for the living. Ben isn’t sure Klaus, stoned out of his mind, bleeding sluggishly from his arm, knew what he was talking about.

Anyway.

Klaus.

He’s wearing the coat he’s been flaunting around for the past week. His shirt is see-through, with little stars on it, like a pale imitation of the sky. Ben remembers his pants had laces on them, he’s sure they did not a minute ago, before the brightness that threatened to wipe out his very soul -- his soul is all he has left, really. His gaze drifts down anyway, to check.

Yes. Klaus’ pants have laces up the sides.

“No,” Ben says. Klaus is laying in a heap on the ground, his fingers curled like his tendons have been cut.

His lips feel numb because they always feel numb. Because Ben can’t feel at all. He takes a step. “No,” he says again, louder, surer. “No!”

Klaus looks up at him. His makeup is smudged, like it tends to be. His lips are bitten raw, like they tend to be. His hair is a mess, like it tends to be, and like it will be, always, because Klaus isn’t breathing.

Klaus is lying in a heap on the ground. Klaus is standing above his own body. Klaus is reaching for Ben like he’s hoping to touch him for the first time in years. Just when Klaus’ cold, dead, fingers brush his face, a voice from behind says, so quietly, dripping with disbelief: “Ben?”

Ben shuts his eyes and wishes desperately he could cry.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, for the first time in so, so long, but he also doesn’t feel it at all. He feels-but-doesn’t-feel someone turn him around, until they are saying, “Ben? Ben!” and he has no choice but to open his eyes and face the music.

Diego is gripping his shoulders like he is a dying man and Ben is the answer. Behind him, Luther and Allison watch them, stunned silent. Allison’s hands are pressed to her mouth. She looks like she wants to cry. 

And Vanya. Little Vanya, painted white. Her head is hung as her shoulders shake with the weight of the destruction she has so inevitably caused. (Ben would say he always knew she was destined for great things -- but he can’t, because he didn’t.) (Nobody ever said great things had to be good.)

The Hargreeves siblings are dead. Their bodies are strewn across what is left of their childhood home, smouldering and burning, and Ben is very aware of that fact.

righto anyway. so they have an emotional reunion but its also kind of bitter? id have to actually write this for it to make sense so lets skip it for now lol

five shows up

he cannot see them obviously bc theyre all ghosts

god if i did write this it would be such a monster of a fic and would take me like 2 years to finish i already know fhkjdsk

somehow ?? they manage to influence the world around them maybe? idk maybe now that klaus is dead hes sober

or maybe hes high for all eternity?

for the purposes of this au lets say he died sober or in the late stages of withdrawal, and bc ghosts cant feel pain in action hes sober

so EVENTUALLY they figure out how to corporealize bc klaus is like blam wham ghost powers

asdlfk that sounds so stupid im sorry

he would say that tho imho,,, it sounds like something hed say,,,

if i DID write this it would be alternating povs also,,,

ok so out of all of them klaus and ben have the most experience homeless

and while being stuck in an apocalypse is not at all the same thing as being homeless it does help to have some knowledge

five doesnt eat the twinkie!! good for him

dammit okay. theres 2 options we can take here. in the comics five couldnt get back bc he fucked up his math and spent 15 years doing the wrong thing, but if u apply that here, with 6 other ppl checking his work this could be avoided and they end up skipping the whole assassin shtick and just hopping straight back to 2019, ready to prevent the apocalypse

OR five still gets hired for the commission but the sibs are tagging along

i think bc five isnt completely alone in this au unfortunately dolores doesnt exist :((

for each other the 2 paths tho theres also options?? bc they (ghosts) can go back in time and inhabit their past selves bodies? OR they could just,,, cease to exist

IM JUST NOW REALIZING HOW MANY PATHS THIS COULD TAKE,, AAH FUCK

okay gonna split this into parts. this is gonna be so long brace yourselves.

1) they go back in time because math checking and the ghosts swap out for their past selves

after multiple years of being stuck in an apocalypse together i think they would learn to get along with each other. like at least a little bit

which would make it easier for them to prevent the apocalypse

bc theyd:

trust each other more

already know abt the apocalypse and not have to wait for five to grace them all with his knowledge

are working as a team from the very beginning

have open lines of communication

yeah uh. so there

vanya is also already aware of her powers so the whole harold goading her into turning against her family and snapping to wipe out all life on earth thing? yeah that doesnt happen

oh and harold wouldn’t know how to do that in the first place because klaus wouldn’t throw out reggie’s journal! this solves so many problems wtf

there’s still commission issues bc they (and by they i mean five) are on the commission’s radar

so there’s still dope fight scenes sdlkfd pinky promise

okay idk. they stop the apocalypse and everything is okay the end hfkjd

2) they fix the math but only five can go back and the ghosts cease to exist

this is just sad! it would be sad okay! im sad! lets move on

subset of the past one: ben CAN go back with five because he was already dead and time travel affects them differently or something idk

aaaaaa

five & ben dynamic duo would be dope as shit BUT five would not be able to see him... so they use klaus as a middleman fjsdsfd

is there 2 bens? is one ben deleted in favor of the time-traveling ben? i dont know! i dont know my brain is melting

either way shit is happening yall!! obviously klaus is clued in, directly or indirectly it doesnt matter but he is on board the ‘don’t let the entire world end in flames’ train

3) they join the commission and then when five goes back in time they all go back

this is fun because now five is a highly trained assassin who is also lowkey a complete marshmallow for his siblings and once again TEAMWORK WOO

basically the first path but now five has a gun fhsdjk

4) they join the commission but five has to leave them behind and they cease to exist

five with a gun but hes sad now

i didnt go into how much losing his siblings would suck in the prev path but like. it would suck so much. he’s already lost them once if you think about it when he time traveled the first time and yeah he found the adult ghost versions but,, its different

and now suddenly hes stuck with these strange adult versions of the people he knows and he KNOWS them but also he doesnt? at all? they dont have all the years of shared experiences together? and theyre all grown up from the first ‘set’ of siblings he had which for five was like 40+ years ago??

SCREAMS

i have losing my mind disease (self-diagnosed)

subset: five has to leave them behind but they still exist because the commission is out-of-time kind of? idk but they’re still floating around somewhere and come back to impact the plot later or something

yeah idk. literally just wrote them down bc i didnt want them to die^2 hfkjwehd

subset: they still exist but instead of being just Somewhere they’re specifically at the assassination of JFK onwards because thats where five left them and they either go on ghosting and make an appearance in s2 OR they cease because them-wise they havent died yet but that doesnt make sense because ghosts can time travel so nevermind

i dont have the brain energy left to explore this one aaaa

okay jesus christ i think that’s all

I DON’T KNOW. i don’t know. i might write some more of this because honestly it is a very fine flavor of angst + hurt/comfort <3

[aaronhart93-archive]

meet and greet || eden and aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @wtf-eden

When: 9/23/2020

Where: the park

Mentions: @alison-haynes

Description: Eden meets Destiny for the first time.

Trigger Warnings: -

Aaron

Aaron was not at all nervous for this. In fact, he was pretty damn excited that Eden finally got to meet Des. He spoke about her all the time. Obviously. And the times that Des had come around the the restaurant, Eden hadn't been there to meet her. He felt bad that it had taken him literal months to get around to doing this. But...better late than never. Aaron picked up a very riled up Destiny from first grade. She was still in her uniform when they got to the park. He shot a quick text to Eden to tell her that they were there and what bench they decided on. He let the tiny blonde play on the playground while he waited for his ex to arrive.

Eden.

Eden was beyond nervous about this meeting. She wasn’t sure why, Destiny was six after all. She wasn’t some big business partner of Aaron’s, but she did know that Destiny was the most important person in Aaron’s life, so the fact that he was letting her meet the young one was a big deal. Eden changed about a million times, before heading down to the park. Upon getting the text from Aaron, she glanced around in the distance looking for her ex and his young daughter. Finally, she spotted him, making her way past a few New Yorkers and taking a seat on the bench beside Aaron, “Fancy running into you here.” She teased.

Aaron

Aaron's face lit up when his ex sat down next to him. "hey!" He beamed, pulling her in for a little hug. "The little monster is..." He scanned the playground for his kid. She was hard to miss considering she was so loud and was already making new friends near the slid, telling them that she was going to be the queen and they were all going to be her court jesters. Jesus. "Destiny Louise!! Come here!" He yelled for her. Her pigtails flailed in the air as she ran towards them. "Des." He said, putting her hands on her shoulders and turning her towards the waitress. "This is my friend Eden." He smiled down at Des, then looked back up at Eden with bright blue eyes.

Eden.

It was nice to see Aaron outside of work, lately it had just been work related reasons that the two had seen one another. “Hey.” Eden smiled, following his gaze to find the little girl. Eden knew what she looked like from Aaron’s Instagram and from seeing the small blonde in the press with Alison. Eden felt her heart flutter seeing the small blonde, she was adorable. And from the way it looked she was a natural born leader like Aaron. Eden smiled softly at the small girl when she approached, “Hi Destiny. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Aaron

Aaron knew that Des had no issue meeting new people. She was not shy by any means; something she got from both of her parents. She hopped up on the bench in between Aaron and Eden. Craning her neck, she looked up at the petite woman and told her she was pretty. The businessman looked down at her daughter than up at Eden and raised his brows and smiled. To this day, whether they were dating or not, Aaron still thought that Eden was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. That was just objective at this point. “Eden works with me at the restaurant.” He told his kid.

Eden.

As Eden looked at the small girl, she couldn’t help but think how precious she was. She was a good mix between both Alison and Aaron, but for Eden, Aaron’s features stuck out to her, as she knew Aaron and not so much Alison. Eden smiled down at the small girl, “Well, I think you are very pretty too.” Eden said, twirling some of the blonde hair in her ponytail. “I hear Destino’s is named after you, that is pretty fancy.”

Aaron

Aaron wasn't sure if Eden was good with kids or not. By the way things were going, he could assume that she was pretty good with kids. Of course, he didn't forget all about her abortion and her relationship with her parents. He hoped this wasn't too triggering for her, but Des always seemed to make people happy even on their worst days. Destiny nodded at Eden's words, then looked over at her father who nodded back at her. "She loves the fact that I named a restaurant after her. It gets to her head." He chuckled, poking his daughter in the nogin which caused an eruption of high pitched laughs to escape from her lips.

Eden.

Seeing Destiny made Eden think that she could have a child that was close to her age, but Eden still believed she wasn’t ready to be a parent. But, Destiny was a sweet kid and it wasn’t possible to even be remotely upset around her. Eden smiled at the girl, glancing back to Aaron then back toDes, “It would get to my head too if someone named a restaurant after me too.”  She glanced back to Aaron, with a big smile as the small girl giggled in her lap.

Aaron

Aaron and Eden smiled at each other for a moment, before they both turned their attention to the child. Destiny gave Aaron a little heeeey! look, crossing her arms and scrunching her face up at him before giggling in Eden's lap. She was so full of it and she knew it too. That was most definitely Aaron's fault because he spoiled the absolute fuck out of her. Destiny Hart-Haynes could do no wrong in Aaron's eyes. "Des, Eden is the one who got me that book of dad jokes that you've told me you liked." He chuckled. "You're the only one who likes them. Everyone else rolls their eyes."

Eden.

Eden knew that the little girl in her lap was probably one of the most spoiled children she would ever meet. When Aaron and Eden dated, Aaron spoiled her, she could only imagine how much he spoiled the daughter he loved so very much. Alison smiled at Destiny, “You like the sad jokes? I thought they were pretty funny too.” She told the blonde, looking over to Aaron, “Everyone else just isn’t on your level. They don’t get your cool dad jokes.”

Aaron.

"See! I think we're the only people who think my dad jokes are funny." He chuckled. "Des..." He poked his baby on the shoulder. "Tell us one good thing about your day at school and one bad thing about your day at school." That prompted always seemed to get her going on a tangent about her day at school. His kid was certainly charming as hell, and liked to ham it up for the adults around her. She loved the attention. He looked at Destiny like he was hearing the greatest story ever, and encouraged her to continue my nodding along and giving a couple mhmmss.

Eden.

Eden smiled as she watched Aaron interact with his kid. It was obvious that he adored the small child, as most parents did. Eden ran her fingers through her dark hair, interacting with the small blonde on her good and bad things from school. After that, Eden looked at the small blonde before glancing out to the playground set in front of them. "Are you any good at the monkey bars?" She asked the small blonde.

Aaron

Aaron smiled at his daughter very proudly as she wrapped up her story. He crossed his ankle over his knee and bounced his foot slightly. He was looking at Destiny and at Eden and wondered why he hadn’t thought to introduce them before. It was a little awkward to bring up considering that Eden and Aaron had had an intimate relationship before, and logically she would have met his kid months ago. Either way, he was still glad this was happening at all. Better late than never, right? “She is.” Aaron said, watching his daughter shake her head wildly. Des looked at him like he was asking her for permission to go back on the playground and show Eden her monkey bar skills. “Go ahead, but you have to let Eden holding you up.” He told her, which prompted her to hop off Eden’s lap and run towards the monkey bars. Aaron got up and slowly started walking to follow his daughter over, waving Eden along with him. “She’s amazing, right?” He asked.

Eden.

Eden remembered when she was a kid, the monkey bars had been her absolute favorite part about going to the park -- which had been why she prompted asking the small girl if she was any good at them. She knew every kid had a favorite thing to do at the park, and she would ask Destiny which was her favorite after their adventure to the monkey bars. Eden pushed herself up off the bench, and followed slowly to the monkey bars with. Aaron. "Absolutely amazing." She told him with a small smile on her face. "Being a parent --, it must be so rewarding." She mentioned, knowing very well that she could have been a parent right this very moment, but her life choices made it so she was not.

Aaron

Aaron watched his kid as they talked, making eye contact with Eden every so often then flicking his eyes back to destiny. He cleared his throat a little bit then remembered why he hadn’t suggested Eden meet her daughter sooner. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It is.” He nodded truthfully. “I mean... you know I’ve told you all about the guy I was before I had her. She honestly changed me for the better and I really don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for her.” He spoke. The thought of him being the same guy he was at 19 and 20 as a 27 year old was cringe worthy. He was still flat out embarrassed that he ever acted the way he way did, and the fact that some of that was televised was even worse.

Eden.

Eden was glad that she was meeting Destiny, it had been a long time coming for this. She was thankful that her and Aaron could still be friends even after everything that had gone down between the pair. Her eyes darted over to his daughter, then back to him. "Thats amazing that a child can do that for someone." Eden rubbed her arm quietly, wondering if she had gone through with her own pregnancy years prior, how that child would have changed her. "I know you love your daughter, and you are a great father, but do you ever wish you were older when you had her?" She asked softly.

Aaron

The bar owner nodded in agreement. He looked over to her at her next question that back over to his kid. He shoved his hands in his back pockets and took a deep breath, knowing that what he was gonna say next was going to make him sound like a prick. “It’s kind of different when you’re rich. I didn’t really have to put anything on hold. Maybe for the first few months but after that I just hired nannies and personal shoppers and what not. And I was able to continue on with my job, the show. So no. Not to mention, if I had her later I probably would have stayed an asshole for a lot longer.” He joked.

[piracytheorist]

My Notes on Rewatching “Call Girl”

I amuse myself by thinking that watching this film is an important rite of passage for anyone who’s an all-in Colin fan, as in, one who’ll watch anything and everything he’s in, no matter the content, theme or quality.

I actually used to think that this was a pretty bad movie... but, as you might have seen from my last few posts, I recently realized this isn’t the case. Sure, it is not your average short film, but breaking it down you realize it’s doing most things right from a filmmaking point. I mean, you don’t have to love it, but it does a great job overall.

And I mean, it’s got Colin in it. How bad can it be? ;)

Beware of spoilers, if you haven’t seen the film. And if you do wanna see it, here it is :D

~

I'm still surprised that... this is it. That's Colin freaking O'Donoghue right there. The pirate. The cowboy. The astronaut. The man the myth the legend.

Ah, early 00's.

Wait. Ok let's make a breakdown of the decoration here. There's: 1) a heart anatomy poster 2) a frame with an undiscernible picture 3) IS THAT AN ASTRONAUT FIGURE? dun_dun_dun.mp3 4) a small penguin (?) plushie with a nautical (?) hat on it 5) are those... mantis figurines stuck on the sides of the screen????

Oooooh boy you sure have some very specific decorations on your desk.

The music stops abruptly when Brendan's mother calls out to him to not close the door because she wants to see him studying. That's interesting. Also how old is Brennan supposed to be? Is he supposed to be in high school, or an adult in college? What was the age of consent in Ireland in 2003?

This vibe, though. White perfect shirt and dark vest...

The look of "I'm gonna look at hot girls with my bedroom's door open while my parents argue across the hall" ALSO YES THAT'S A MANTIS

This just makes me laugh so much. Can you imagine sweet innocent (mostly) virgin Brendan typing it and his heartbeat skyrocketing?

Seriously though, that "Welcome back Brendan" thing. With one small addition you add a whole point in his backstory about him trying to deal with his urges.

Jesus I have forgotten so much. As soon as Brendan hears his mother coming, he immediately clicks "Dump her" on the "Virtual Babe" and it just... explodes. 

With a full low-quality boom sound effect to boot. Like seriously if you were trying to hide why the f have your speakers on. You had one job, Brendan.

A rare glimpse into Brendan's room, and I'm trying to understand what the pattern on his sheets are. Maybe I'm just confused by the astronaut figurine, but it looks... vaguely... about space? Like, if you squint, the circular thing on the top left looks like Saturn's rings. No?

Also, Brendan's mom being obsessed with disinfection. That was 2003.

"I don't want filth getting into my house while I'm gone." And two hours later, her son has sex on her bed.

Oh wait, his father says "The only contact [Brendan] has with the outside world is through that bloody computer of his," in a... weird, tone? Like he's trying to placate the mother's fears of any rave party suddenly taking place in the house, but also with his tone (and maybe by using the word "bloody"? idk I'm no native speaker but it piques my interest) it doesn't seem like he's very... understanding and/or supportive of his probably very shy and/or socially awkward son.

Mom: That reminds me, block off the internet, will you? Dad: *scoffs* Why not lock him in a tower while you're at it?

He is sassy though!

Lookit him though! So sad he won't be able to create and look at Virtual BabesTM while his parents are gone.

The parent's accents strike me more towards a British one and I got confused for a bit, but then I remembered that we see Brendan use euros later, lol.

*hatching the plan to search in his father's briefcase for any cards for escort services*

This is where I started feeling that this movie is better than I’d remembered. Like, it does the job of delivering Brendan's guilt over "tresspassing" into his parents room and disobeying his mother, as well as his fear of being discovered, even though he watched his parents drive away, so he'd hear the car if they came back, in a pretty well-done and clear way.

I love how he immediately knows exactly where to look. His father's such an organized fella. Also those pills that he seems to not need immediately (thus leaving them behind for the weekend) are... something. They're put there for a reason and I wonder what that could have been.

There's not even a moment of hesitation, once he opens the briefcase. He doesn't put the card back in, he only looks briefly at his parents' photo but then he's like "Yeah. I'm doing it."

That smile as he sees the card though, lol. 

Casual reminder to have safe sex, lads.

And then the phone operator is like, full business mode. Brendan stutters for one (1) second and she's immediately like, "You want a girl?" She's like, I've had tons of people like you, lad, can't waste my time waiting until you find the courage to ask. You wanna hire or not?

OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED The operator asks for the address, Brendan gives it, then asks how much does it cost. Then the operator says "Same as usual." BRUH she knew the address from how often his father used the service!

And then poor Brendan checks his savings and his "Uh..." says it all about how he wishes he could hire someone for longer than an hour. Bro, calm down. It's your first time.

And then he's like, waiting all anxiously by the door. I've never hired an escort service but I feel ya dude.

And of course Barbara the nosy neighbor, here to bring us to the edge of our seats, lol.

Look at how organized their fridge is. Why is that chick suddenly so eager to cook something for him? There looks to be so much food already prepared in there.

And dude. This movie has set-ups. Barbara tries to open a cupboard to like pick up ingredients to cook something, and Brendan, with a sudden "No!" rushes in and closes it. It only makes sense later, when we see that that's where he hid the money for the call girl.

Yikes she booped his nose as she left... what is he, ten? I mean even if he's supposed to be a teen here it's still... like... he's not a little boy to fucking boop his nose. No wonder her mother seems to trust her with taking care of him, with how both treat him like he's a child.

Hi there! You're gonna die :D

Shit I just noticed the portrait on the wall. Is that a... is that a fucking ruff collar his mother is wearing???? (btw I had to search to find that term with "shakespeare collar" XD)

I mean... you can't help falling for it. At first you're like, she seems too... simple for a call girl. But then you're like, who else could it be who also knows his name?

I wonder what would've happened if she hadn't asked to use the bathroom, which prompted her to look at his parents' bedroom and him to... initiate contact. Would he have mustered the courage to actually ask her about it or would he have been so flustered until she'd say something? What would she say? "You know, your mother said you would [something]" and he would FREAK THE FUCK OUT because how does his mother know? Would they have stayed there in awkward silence long enough for his mother to call, him to pick up and find out what she was really there for?

I mean, look at that! I'm speculacting the "what-ifs"! Good fucking movie!

That look, though. You suddenly go from "Aw you cute" to "WTF I know you're thirsty for it but that's... creepy"

Look at that smile, though! She is pretty nosy!

I just... I love everything about this. The way she's smiling at nosing in in her boss' bedroom. Him creeping behind her like the future killer that he is, actually scaring her. The way he says "This is my mother's room," so shy and collected. The fucking music, too. How it slowly builds up from the moment she spots the bedroom and it starts developing when Brendan kisses her.

And that kiss. So chaste and shy and yet she's like, wow yeah let's have sex now.

"You're not as shy as you look." LOL

For the pre-sex scene I just wanna link y'all to @killian-whump 's post about it, since it says it all.

Also dude the voicemail is set up from that moment too, but we've yet to hear what it includes, aside from his mother being bossy about the smallest things. "I hope you haven't gone back to bed." IF ONLY YOU KNEW. Not only what bed he's gone to, but also what he's doing on said bed.

"You don't waste much time, do you?" Lol if only you knew. And again his first response is to apologize if he did anything wrong.

And you know what? Plot twists are a hell of a lot of fun and well made when they make you go back and see things with the new perspective. Like, how chill and simple she was, why she said the last line I mentioned, the newly-known reasons why she said it was kinky to have sex in his mother's bedroom... *slams hand on table* That's a great way to do a plot twist! A fucking plus!

Like seriously, this convo: B: Have you met my father? M: No, but a lot of the other girls have though.

Pre-plot twist viewer: Wow whAT how do you say it like that Post-plot twist viewer: Yeah makes sense

M: I think he gets sympathy from them, like, you know, cause his wife's such an old witch... *realizes* Oh, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that! *more failed excuses and then THAT face*

And like, that's a bit inappropriate in any case but pre-plot twist you're like WTAF. And then you're like eh makes sense for frustrated employees to pity their bitchy boss' seemingly calm husband...

And there's that set-up from before. Job well done, film.

And then their argument about the money. Brendan being confused about the amount, Mandy saying she'll come back and speak to his mother about it...

Seriously though what if he'd found out the voicemail after he'd had sex and before the "confrontation"? Would he like, have sent her on her merry way with all the money and then had more sex with the actual call girl?

And then his instinct, to try and make sure his mother won't find out, is to fucking threaten the woman with a knife. Wow, a little too much, Brendan. And then his first instinct, when they're fighting, is to search and grab the knife and fucking stab her. Lbr though that's just baby Colin finding his call for playing messed-up characters.

Also how did she die so quickly. Guess I found one weakness in the plot XD

And now you're like Jesus he just murdered her but when Barbara comes a-knocking and he looks at her and exasperatedly calls her name, you're like... same, bro.

And the stupid bastard didn't even wash the blood off his arm. Like seriously, Brendan, either do a murder correctly or don't do it at all. At least you can't say he wasn't dedicated, bro sliced his own arm open. *pats head* you'll learn, my little murderous bean, you'll learn.

Brendan: I was doing the dishes. Barbara: Did your parents leave them for you to do? They must have left in a rush this morning.

Yes, Barbara, he can do the dishes, he's in an undetermined age between late teens and-

Barbara: They didn't even make their bed.

Wtf you nosy bitch.

See what I'm saying? Full character development for a character with like, two minutes of screentime.

And then the voicemail drops like an anvil. My first thought when his mother said that Mandy is nothing but trouble I was like "Yo look who's talking" but then I thought that... yeah she did creep in her boss' bedroom, actually had sex with her son in it, then pretty much talked dirt to him about her... I mean she definitely didn't deserve to die, but maybe his mother was a good judge of character for one (1) moment.

And then Lorraine appears.

And Brendan's like "Now I have money for like, three hours with her. Maybe I'll even convince her to help me hide the body too."

“OR MAYBE I’LL JUST KILL HER TOO.”

In conlusion, yup, I’m pretty glad I spent a good hour and a bit watching, analyzing, writing this review and screencapping this film. 10/10 would rewatch and review again.

[eggscellentflan]

extremely self-indulgent swsh self insert au concept (warning: horny level off the charts) @traumadotwav tagging in case ur interested

I’m sonia’s sibling, younger only by a year or two (I’m assuming sonia and leon are the same age)

as kids we both wanna take after our grandma and become professors, sonia is less dead-set on the idea tho and also considers becoming a trainer, she’s very skilled in both areas but more passionate about battling and becomes leon’s rival, meanwhile I have almost no interest in battling and just study experimental breeding and conservation

leon and hop’s family are obvs our family friends, and at some point I share with them the results of some of my breeding projects - pokemon who can absorb and benefit from dynamax energy WITHOUT actually dynamaxing (think like the legendary wolves) with the intention that they a) are more generally hardy, helping with maintaining wild populations and healthy gene pools, and b) cannot dynamax and therefore cannot cause large-scale environmental havoc as easily

Leon points out that they could also be extremely strong in battle, and persuades me to use my partner alcremie in a test battle against him, I very nearly beat him and he’s like jesus christ wtf

I realise my alcremie Really likes to battle. This sparks a significant shift in both my and sonia’s interests: I get into battling with my uniquely bred pokemon, and sonia is amazed by their strength and starts helping me more with further research on them, to the point she’s contributing more than I am

eventually we both come to the conclusion the bred pokemon (I’m gonna call them tinymax pokemon for the sake of convenience) should be tried out in the gym challenge, leon is the champion by now and is keen to endorse us both but I’m the one who ends up entering despite having less battle experience because I already have an established tinymax team, sonia supports me with continued research

obvs I blast through it pretty quick, everyone is amazed, basically canon story  events now but replace the protag w me and I have a tangible reason to be doing so well lol, and instead of just sonia doing the historical research it’s both of us as a team... hop is still also doing the challenge as well but is younger than me, so he kinda has two older sibling rivals he wants to beat

rose also gains interest in me Because of the tinymax pokemon and their  economical and ecological potential. his big plan is a bit different now because of this - he’s actually confiding in me and trying to work with me for starters, he thinks the genetic factor I discovered with tinymax pokemon is the key to controlling eternatus, if there’s some way to introduce that factor to it while it’s still in the egg thing with like gene therapy

obviously that goes wrong, prompts eternatus to wake up, just like in game as I’m about to fight leon in the finals, leon goes to fight it and gets wiped out, I come save the day etc etc

leon ftr is like having a major Time about me leading up to all this, like fuck what have I done I’ve unleashed an unstoppable battling machine I’m gonna get dunked on and I can’t decide if I hate or love that (oh yeah and they might accidentally help rose destroy the world with bio engineering if they’re not careful, fuck scientists are scary and hot)

so when he comes to and finds out I didn’t do that and instead saved everything and caught an Actual God in a pokeball he’s like ok motherfucker I am so angry and proud and ashamed and turned on and confused we gotta fight RIGHT NOW and he’s just barely awake hobbling into the stadium like earlier than in the game, a dozen people behind him begging him to go lie down, he loses bc he’s only half alive but technically that still makes me the champion, chaos ensues as he’s dragged back to bed and everyone’s reeling over what just happened and whether it’s fair/official

for a couple days everything’s kinda in limbo, I’ve been officially crowned champion but nobody feels good about it, waiting to see if once leon recovers there’s gonna be a rematch or w/e, then news gets out that he’s just gone? like just up and left, nobody knows where, there’s some panic (esp cause of his infamous sense of direction lol), hop is of course the first one out trying to find him and knows him better than anyone else so does end up finding him (with me hot on his heels) in the slumbering weald

turns out he wasn’t running away or anything, everyone was kinda panicking over nothing like w the rose tower thing, he was just interested in the legendary wolves since they’d helped w eternatus. He Does want a rematch though and is like welp I was gonna wait til I got back to wyndon to announce it but since u can’t stay away from me I guess we can do it now ; )

hop’s like wtf this is a terrible idea but we’re already fighting, it ends in a draw with his charizard and my alcremie simultaneously KO’ing each other, leon is like well... I guess that means we’re both the champion, hop now you can strive to beat both of us simultaneously (we get back to wyndon and everyone’s like um that’s not how this works KC is still officially the only champion, we end up sorta taking turns? bc we‘re evenly matched so we keep taking the title off each other,  everyone just calls us both the champion tho lol, anyway leon and I start dating and become the ultimate power couple and sonia and I keep doing research as well, hop becomes a researcher AND a trainer bc the real moral is u can do both, everyone lives hornily ever after the enD

[ombreecha]

It's ya boi, ombreecha, comin at cha live with a spicy new lemon. Hope ya enjoy cause it's ya, boi.

my friend on discord who will remain nameless

[ashphoenix06]

Deleted Prompt (protection Marvin/Chase) (jse ego universe)

I swear I saw this in my asks and somehow it got deleted... but my mind could also be messing with me... regardless... there is a scene right before the next Broken prompt that fits this, so I write it. Lol!

*****************

3 1/2 months later

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Marvin grimaced at the loud knocking and turned over, burying his face into the couch. Damn door to door sales person... go away! I’m healing... apparently...

The magician and the hero were brought back home around the same time, Jackie supporting a patch up on his shoulder, a few broken ribs and a broken arm. When Schneep has taken Marvin to see his little brother, he had ran to the bed the minute saw Jackie and started to profusely apologize. He hated that Anti had made him say those things to his brother, driving the hero down to where Chase had been when he shot himself...

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“I know someone’s in there! Open the door!”

Marvin bristled at the sound of that all too annoying voice. He groaned in pain and frustration as he force himself off the couch. Mother fucking piece of shit luck! Why did HE have to be the only one here? Well... that’s not true. According to Schneep, JJ has been hiding in his room ever since the incident at the storage unit. A brief flash of phantom fingers running through his hair made him shiver as he pulled the door open.

Stacey stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other raised to a fist, readying for another fall of knocks. She took one look at Marvin and let her hand slowly fall to her side.

“Marvin,” she gasped, looking him up and down. “.... You look like shit.”

The magician was already prepared for a comeback.

“Well, I was going to be courteous and not say the same thing about your face, but...”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Shut the fuck up and let me in.”

Marvin moved where his frame took up the whole doorway, glaring her down as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Why?”

Stacey let a impatient sigh out as she tapped her foot. She was just as bouncy as Jackie and Chase, not being one to stand still. When the dad came to Marvin’s mind, his mood darkened.

“Because I know he’s here,” she rushed out at an unnaturally speed, causing Marvin’s head to pound. “He’s not at Jack’s, so he has to be here. It’s been three months and he hasn’t returned any of my calls, texts or emails. Tell me, is he in his room again downing another bottle of Hennessy?”

And there was the shit button she knew how to push oh so well. Marvin snarled, trying to play off the increasingly painful headache.

“You know damn well that he hasn’t drank that bad ever since he...”

She waved him off and tried to push her way in.

“Stop hiding him! The kids have been asking about him and I’ve been running out of excuses!”

“Fuck off, Stacey...”

“Not until I... oh shit! Are you okay?”

Marvin had fallen to his knees, jamming both hands right on his forehead. He huffed and groaned at that all too familiar static noise mingled with the agonizing pounding. His lungs constricted, the feeling of terror flood him.

No, he tried to assume himself. He’s not in my head! These are just phantom pains... I... I need my meds.

“Seriously, are you okay?”

Stacey has lowered herself so she could see his face. Her lip was slightly pouting in worry.

“Medicine,” he gasped. “..... kitchen sink...”

“Got it.” She quickly dashed to the kitchen, leaving Marvin bent over in pain. His forehead touched the cold floor as he groaned, closing his eyes super tight. The psychologist had told him that flashbacks like this can happen and bring on panic attacks, but he never told the magician that it would hurt this bad. His teeth chattered as Stacey’s hand grabbed him under his shoulder and tried to pull him.

“Everything’s in the living room, so come on. Get your ass... JESUS, you’re heavy!”

“Shut... fuck... up...”

“Stow it and tell me again once you’ve taken this medicine.”

Shaking, he allowed Stacey to help him up and guide him to the couch. She plopped him down hard as her attention went to the coffee table, grabbing the pills and a glass of water she had filled.

She tried to get him to lift his hand to grab the medicine, but he found them stuck in place as they and the rest of his body violently shook from the aching pain starting in this chest. She dramatically gave out a groan as she leaned down closer to his face.

“Open.”

Marvin was took back by this command but still found himself opening his mouth for her. She tossed the pills in and then lifted the cup to his lips.

“Drink.”

Once again, he found himself listening, gulping down the ice cold water. As he leaned his head back to get the last drops, Stacey reached out to put a hand on the back of his head to support it, but he bristled. Like lighting, he grabbed her wrist and pushed it back; regardless of the fact that he was still shaking. The mom’s eyes grew wide in shock and... fear? Dammit! Way to go, Marv. You didn’t have to scare her... even if she was the most annoying bitch in the world.

“Sorry,” he whispered, looking up at her but not directly. “It’s just... I... I have a thing... about people touching my head or hair. Nothing to do with you... I just don’t like it.”

She said nothing for a little while or moved, probably making sure that he didn’t pass out or anything. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she put the cup down and went to sit on the loveseat. Marvin saw her cross her arms as she plopped back, the wheels in her mind turning.

“He’s..... he’s not here... is he?”

Marvin bristled as he looked down. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, fearful of what he would see.

“I see,” she huffed, her foot tapping on the carpeted floor. They both sat in silence again for a good while until she spoke again. As the minutes ticked by, Marvin felt the effects of the medication kicking in. His head had stopped pounding and the static was slowly fading away. He counted his breaths, a technique that a psychologist that had visited him told him to use if he had an episode.

“What’s going on, Marv?”

The magician lifted his head to look at Chase’s ex wife. She had moved to lean forward, moving her arms to rest on her knees. She was looking right at him, a mixture of agitation and concern written on her face.

When he didn’t say anything, Stacey continued.

“I called Schneep a while back and he told me about Jackie...”

Marvin’s breath caught in his throat.

“... That’s three of you, then. You’re a mess, Jackie has PTSD and Chase is no where to be seen? Something’s going on and no one will tell me.”

He watched her hang her head for a second as she prepared herself for her next question. But the magician wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to here.

“Is it... is this like last time,” she sighed, lifting her head back up. Marvin saw fear in her eyes as tears brimmed around them. “Like... like with Jack? Is that why you’re hurt?”

Marvin didn’t want to tell her anything. Chase had made that abundantly clear when Schneep was the first one taken. He didn’t want Stacey or the kids to know or be involved, that she had been an absolute mess after what happened to Jack. As far as Marvin knew, she was only told that Jack was forced to slit his throat.

He tried to fight against his truthful nature, never one to bother with lies. What’s the point? Better to come out with what really happened instead of letting the lie eat away at your insides.

This is what Chase wanted.... wants, he reminded himself. He doesn’t want her to know, so don’t tell her. Don’t tell her!

“... Marvin, did something bad happen to Chase...”

Shit.

“... are the kids in danger...”

Fuck!

“Please. I know you, out of all of them, will tell me if you think it’s absolutely necessary. What’s going on with you boys?”

Shit fuck!

Sitting back and rubbing near the roots on his forehead, he made his decision.

“............ How much time you got?”

To be continued...

****************

Tags:

@glitchbicth @honestlyitsjustkenna @nekob00 @septicuniverse @the-rampaige @aquaticember06 @greenglitchbitch @goldenoceanaart @idk-and-wtf @silver-freddy @mysepticheartfan1 @just-your-average-glitch @nixon-by-night @lyra-mithril-aryl--op20

[atc74]

Babies and Bazookas

Written for: @butiaintgonnaloveem‘s Tiff’s WTF Challenge

My prompt was: "Goddammit! Where's my bazooka? I put it on the ground, expecting it to be there when I come back. Have you been tidying up again, cause I really would like my bazooka back. I don't know where you put things. Jesus! Cannot just leave anything alone, can you? This is probably my longest prompt ever and I had some fun with this one!

Pairing: Dean x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Almost a Dad!Dean, pregnancy, fluff?

WC: 670 

Thank you for soooo many things, but also for being one half of the best cheerleading/beta squad, @pinknerdpanda!

You walked into the library, which would normally not be a problem for you. The library was your sanctuary; where you could escape into another world that didn’t involve risking life or limb, sometimes both. But not today. Today both long tables were covered in weapons.

Ever since you had found out you were pregnant, you had decided to give up hunting, staying back to research for your boys. Dean had been over the moon that he was going to be a dad, which you had not expected. Everything was going swimmingly until last week. Last week Dean decided he needed to be home until your baby arrived. That isn’t the problem, you loved having Dean home. Sam was off hunting with Eileen so it gave the two of you some much needed alone time before baby Winchester made their appearance.

The problem was that Dean decided he was going to clean every weapon in Baby’s arsenal and reorganize the weapons cache in her trunk. Again, not usually a problem. But you were weeks from giving birth and had started nesting. Your nesting instinct mandated that you clean everything you could reach and then some.

Dean was nowhere to be found, so you stood at the beginning of the table and picked up the first weapon you found. Throwing it over your shoulder, you started down the long hallway.

Dean returned to the library minutes later, a sandwich in one hand and a cold beer in the other. He sat back down at the table and reached to pick up his next project. His hand was met with an empty space.

"Goddammit Y/N! Where's my bazooka? I put it on the ground, expecting it to be there when I come back. Have you been tidying up again, cause I really would like my bazooka back. I don't know where you put things. Jesus! Cannot just leave anything alone, can you?"

“Dean Campbell Winchester, do not take that tone with me, Mister!” your voice alone was enough to make Dean tuck his tail between his legs, but the look you gave him left him speechless. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out.

“We are having a baby in a matter of weeks and we do not need a bazooka just laying around, good sir. We haven’t even started to baby proof the Bunker! And how about a little respect for the library? This is a place for knowledge. Where we will teach our children to read and create their own fantasies in the written word. Besides, I just cleaned this room yesterday. Have you not noticed I am nesting here?”

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I know you are and I just didn’t want to get in your way. I didn’t think. Here, sit down for a minute. Eat this sandwich and I will get all of this out of the way. I will take it to the armory where it belongs,” Dean kissed the top of your head and pulled out a chair and you sank into it.

“Dean, you have never apologized this quickly in all the years I have known you. What is going on?’ you eyed him suspiciously over the turkey sandwich.

“I just don’t want to upset you further; it’s not good for the baby, or for you. Furthermore, making you mad isn’t good for me. And since you told me I was going to be a dad, I value my life more than I used to. You’re scary when you’re mad!” Dean said sheepishly as he picked up the guns and walked toward the armory.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you grinned and took another bite of his sandwich, realizing how hungry you were. You grinned a little as you chewed. After he put everything in the armory where it belongs would you tell him your water broke. After all, you wanted to come home to a clean Bunker with the newest member of the family.

The Whole Enchilada - join the fiesta: @sis-tafics  @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @hobby27  @bethbabybaby @anspgene @paintrider13-blog @cyrilconnelly @chelsea072498 @just-another-busy-fangirl @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @d-s-winchester @roxyspearing @heyitscam99 @iwantthedean @jpadjackles @mogaruke @smoothdogsgirl @x-waywardaf-x @myoutletforfanfiction @growningupgeek @spnbaby-67 @wonderange @emoryhemsworth @crispychrissy @impalaimagining @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @katymacsupernatural @hennessy0274-blog @esoltis280 @shaelyn102 @rockhoochie @charliebradbury1104 @pinknerdpanda @hannahindie @wingedcatninja @highfunctioning-sociopath @speakinvain @evansrogerskitten @percussiongirl2017 @blacktithe7 @winchesterprincessbride @theoriginalvicki @mrswhozeewhatsis @sweetpeamoose @mamaredd123 @sandlee44 @mottergirl99 @meeshw777 @squirrel-moose-winchester @milkymilky-cocopuff @meganwinchester1999 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @grace-for-sale @4401lnc  @countrygal17a @tina8009 @andkatiethings @nanie5 @monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets 

The Dean’s List: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @trunk-full-of-ideas @kayteonline @ruprecht0420 @kathaswings @bringmesomepie56 @deandoesthingstome @starry-chaos  @dean-winchesters-bacon @pisces-cutie

[sol1056]

six anons: wtf were they thinking

Another round-up! I seem to have poked the hornet’s nest when it comes to the EPs --- though in some ways I was just building on the same clues that prompted such awesome meta from @janestrider​ and @ptw30​ --- and now I have a box filling up with asks, all over again.

Behind the cut: newbie writers, EP arrogance, earlier versions of S7, writerly randomness, EPs aren’t writers, and over-confidence. Welp. 

Let’s get this started.

Your words about being fascinated by this trainwreck is me 100%, I'm a newbie writer & I wouldn't dream of being this arrogant and think I can handle writing something like VLD by myself, like, premise and character arcs and characterization and consistency etc. are in my mind at all times and I still would have messed things up, but minor things like that don't even matter to the EPs apparently! VLD Is a giant What Not To Do list. How did they miss the 50 signs saying Danger: Cliff Up Ahead

and a second in the same vein:

Calling the EPs newbie writers is highly inaccurate methinks, newbie writers upon getting the reins ... sit down and write the rest of the story from scratch, trying to make it make sense and not completely ruin the premise and the character arcs. Regardless of success, they WRITE the rest, they don’t assemble random story points others wrote & copy paste things around. EPs aren’t writers.

Well, there’s newbie and there’s newbie-who-doesn’t-realize-it. 

Consider someone who’s ridden the train, every day, for the past ten or so years, always sitting in the first car near the conductor. They’ve been on the train when it’s broken down, when it’s late, when it’s early, when it has to plow through snow. Then someone offers them a supervisory position -- not as a driver, just a supervisor -- and they figure, hey, I’ve watched this enough, I can drive, too. Plus, the EPs had the power to force the real drivers to step aside, which just makes the entire situation even worse.  

In other words, they missed the signs because they didn’t even realize such signs exist. Those things you don’t learn (or even see) when you’re only watching from the outside. 

You, and everyone else replying, are classifying yourself more as the person who’s gotten a job on the train, and you kinda know trains, and you know they can break down, but driving it? Whole ‘nother ball of wax. 

Hold onto that humility. It’ll serve you well as a writer. Even once you reach the point you can confidently handle a complicated storyline, you still want to retain that humility, because it’s one-half of keeping empathy for your readers. 

The irony is, they were so arrogant in their belief they could do better than actual storytellers w/ years of experience (also presumably execs who checked up on them) that they not only loudly (and unprofessionally) complained about specific parts, but also broadcasted that they changed the story, and gave many clues as to where and above all why. 

You have no idea how many times in the past two years my jaw has dropped in complete shock when yet another EP quote has gone by on my dash. I cannot fathom making public that I disagreed with my bosses --- let alone using an interview to re-litigate a case I’d already lost. Well, I could, but only if I didn’t expect to have a job much longer. And that bit about doing “damage control” as a result of exec demands? Jeepers crow, dude. 

(there have been points where all I can say is, ‘wtf do these people have on their bosses to get away with this!?’ photograph negatives for blackmail? sleeping with an exec? I mean, srsly.)

On a more serious note, I’m constantly reminded of the old adage about innkeepers: you want to appear as a swan, gliding peaceful and serene, and never let the guests see that you’re paddling as fast as fuck under the surface. These EPs need a major come-to-jesus about that, because they’ve gone out of their way to splash loudly on a regular basis.

Then again, I don’t think either EP has much (if any) experience with interviews where they’re the main attraction. They seem ignorant of the fact that an interviewer is not your friend; there’s an agenda, and that agenda is to get clicks: something controversial, surprising, that’ll bring the eyeballs. The good interviewers can and will manipulate for their agenda. This is why PR people are usually present (if off-screen), because they’ll know the warning signs and call a halt, set certain questions (or answers) as off-limits. 

Most of the EPs’ interviews, there’s been no sign of PR. Hell, the EPs have admitted in interviews they couldn’t remember what had happened in the season they’re being interviewed about! (wtf srsly wtf) If we got more than we should’ve, that’s also on the EPs for not realizing they were getting played. 

And while I’m at it: an interview is not where you tell the story. Explain what did happen? Sure, though that’s a tacit acknowledgement that the story failed, if it requires your explanation after the fact. But to tell things that are vital to the story but don’t actually happen in the story? No. Just no. 

did we really get an interview where the EPs confirmed there was an original script with Shiro as the Black Paladin? If that's the case then HOLY CRAP. Talk about a missed opportunity.

Yep, I saw the quote but didn’t chase down the source. I think it was one of the interviews shortly after S7 aired. You’d need to ask someone who still reads all those interviews, since I don’t. I only see what goes past on my dash.

Well, missed opportunity but also... we all know (or should know) that the first idea is never what makes it to page or screen. And once the story’s done and the dust has settled, then you can do a track commentary about how the story changed between idea and execution. 

While the story’s in progress? Nope, nope, nope. You smile and say it’s all going according to plan, it’s an awesome season, you hope everyone enjoys it, everyone went the extra mile, etc. You say nothing about the disasters, the late-night sessions, the last-minute changes. If you can’t be a swan, be a cat: yep, we totally meant to do that.

To say what JDS did? I still cannot fathom why anyone would ever say that. There is no fandom on this planet that wouldn’t have some percentage enraged by news they’d been denied the story they’d expected. Hinting at discarded paths will always, always, disappoint someone --- and quite often, a lot more someones than you realize. 

Really, the only reason I can see is sheer contempt. For the audience, for the story, for anyone who’d worked on that previous version. It’s gloating. It’s saying, a lot of people worked on it, but we decided to throw away everything they’d done, and redo it as we wanted. 

Yes, I know that happens. It’s part of the process. But you don’t freaking boast about it, and you don’t plant in everyone’s head that there was something else out there. Especially when that something else was exactly what they’d been waiting for. 

It’s an asshole move, no two ways around it. 

@janestrider's post and yours about the VLD writers and EPs reminded me of a phrase JDS said in one interview after S6 about Cosmo ... "well, I wanted to give Keith a wolf, so I did". ... he doesn't seem to consider the consequences of his actions? That's also how he decided to write the Black Paladins episode ... "I wanted to make it a Winter Soldier type of thing, so I did". It feels like something a very unexperienced professional would do.

There’s no rule against throwing something into a story that you think is cool. I mean, easily 90% of any story out there revolves around something the author thinks is just freaking cool. Considering the hours we’re going to spend writing, revising, writing again, revising again, discussing, thinking, living, breathing, eating, dreaming about the story? It’d better be something we find cool. 

But that said... there’s a difference between making sure the story fires you up, and treating the story like a tossed salad. I’ve seen multiple pull-quotes from LM that affirm their approach was to chase the rule-of-cool. And... that’s not quite so okay, really. 

The Black Paladins episode is probably the best example, and ironic that it’s the only one JDS wrote, ‘cause it’s textbook failure. If you cannot hold the entire story in your head, then you will be blind as to how tossing in this idea or that -- no matter how cool -- may halt, muddy, or even undermine the story’s forward movement. When you can’t even pace a story properly, throwing in extra cool is just going to make the whole thing even more rickety. 

I did a long walk-through on that episode to outline how I’d translate it into a written story, and I’d planned to do a follow-up talking about the emotional aspect. The problem is... once I had a chance to think about the episodes after, there is no emotional context to that fight. Sure, it got a huge budget and attention, and it’s hyped like a big deal. 

But there’s no there, there. 

None of it matters. Keith went through all that for someone who wasn’t even his friend, someone who dies (or whatever) right after and is treated like an empty shell. And the one who rescued him wasn’t even the person he’d fought, but the person he’d thought he was fighting for and with -- who was dead, the whole time. The two episodes that follow basically gut the entire premise --- and all the emotion --- of that fight scene, and render it null. 

And that’s where the rule-of-cool smashes up against the need to hold the shape of the story in your head. You need to see the big picture of how each scene supports the story’s theme. JDS hasn’t the chops to see how what he’d created was promptly undone by what came next. 

Oh, I’m aware there are lots of fans who loved that episode and he sure basked in the accolades, but I can’t ignore that in the end, it means nothing. No one pointed out this will impact another thing downstream, or this later thing undermines what came before, or this breaks a continuous motif, or contradicts a theme. Anything. 

Or maybe someone did, and JDS told them that as the EP, he got the final say. Frankly, from the way he talks in interviews, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if that’s how it went down. 

@lysanatt commented on a post:

This to some degree even explains the over-confidence of EPs that avoiding the BYGs trope did not apply to them because, sure, they could do it better, landing them in the exact trap of doing a classic double BYG.

Call it what it is. It’s not over-confidence. It’s arrogance.

It’s complacency in over-estimating social capital as to what an audience might forgive or overlook. It’s an assumption that job titles or IMDB entries or the nice things people had said on twitter could be protection from being held accountable. It’s certainty that a rigid and uncreative vision of the story can and should override all other concerns, including the larger playing field in which this story is only one of millions. 

It’s a lack of concern for real-world damage. A lack of care for the craft. A lack of understanding that there even is a craft and it’s not learned overnight. A lack of willingness to stop and think about what the story is saying, what it means, what it’s trying to do. 

It’s an inflexible certainty, engendered and enabled by the near-constant attentive interviews and adoring reviews. It’s an inability to hold onto (or listen to) any reality-checks when it comes to hype. It’s falling so hard into enjoying the ego-strokes of constant interview and congratulatory reviewers and forgetting no one is doing anything out of altruistic reasons. Including them. 

In the end, it’s a complete failure of empathy. It’s near-constant trolling of execs and the audience at large, a broken record of obvious contempt. It’s an amoral and frankly callous disregard for the characters, the story, the messages, the themes. 

It’s never seeing the characters as people, and never seeing the audience as people, either. Stories matter because we, as human beings, care about other human beings, real or fictional --- a care the EPs have made clear they cannot, or will not, afford anyone but themselves. 

[cat-barelli]

We need to talk

@cat-barelli & @mason-daviss

Location: Masons room

Mason-  it was 5 am and mason had just gone to bed. he spent the rest of the night with his phone off and video games on after whatever the fuck happened with him and cat. he couldn't admit anything. the last thing he wanted to do was lose his friendship with the girl. the girl he had been head over heels with since the minute he saw her. he just needed to sleep it off and hope to god that he could forget about this weekend and what had happened with them.

Cat -Catalina was tossing and turning all night, the conversation made her more confused and upset than she was before. She did not really think she could be in a relationship with her past but she also did not want to lose Mason in any way. She had slept for a little bit  but at about 7 am so made her way over to Masons dorm and banged on the door. She was hoping his roommate wasn't there but she also did not really care at this point. They needed to talk.

 "what the fuck," he mumbled. "i don't want it," he sighed as he got up. mason was on two hours of sleep and honestly he just wanted to slam the door in this person's face. it was too early and he wasn't ready for whatever it was. "can you not bang," he said before opening his eyes and looking up to see who it was. "uhm hi?"

cat made a face at the boy in front of her, sure it was early but she forgot that cause she wasn’t really sleeping. “Uhm yeah hi” she said and sighed “I’m sorry to wake you up but like wtf was that last night?” She asked just jumping into it cause she was tired and not in the mood for small talk

"one before you starting getting into whatever this is can we come inside and not wake people up and causing a scene. Mason bright her inside and shut the door sighing. "What was what last night?"

Cat nodded knowing he was right and moved into the room as prompted and sighed looking around the room, well mostly just not at mason "You really gonna act like nothing happened with that conversation last night? What do you want from me exactly? you say you care say no strings and then get mad when I talk to other guys?

"we agreed no strings attached. I can still feelings for you even if its not strings. I don't know what you want me to say. Do you wanna ruin whatever the fuck we have because we can right now, Cat. I can lay this out on the table right now and just ruin this friendship. Ruin everything row because i can."

Cat watched as she listened to him, her jaw clenching a bit at his words and she crossed her arms "Well you already said we are done with sex so I mean most of it is already ruined. I don't know what you could really say. I mean of course I am still your friend but fuck mason I just want you to actually say what is on your mind for once!'

"because I just want fucking sex. I don't want some toxic ass thing that's only based on sex. I don't know how much more clear I can get," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. "If our friendship is ruined because we can't have sex then holy shit," he dryly laughed.

Cat frowned looking at him and then threw her hands up in frustration "Holy shit that is not even what I said!' she groaned her hands moving to her hair "I mean it seems pretty clear what you really think of me I am some girl just sleeping with everyone it seems"

"I never said you were sleeping with anyone." Mason just looked at her and sat on the bed. "If I tell you what I went you're going to run away cat. I can already tell you this isn't something you want to hear because I know you're not ready for it."

"You accused me of sleeping with ricky and flirting with bucky" she stated and just turned away from him "Im not ready for it? Jesus I am not some fragile piece of glass, if you want to end this fine. See I am fine you dont even have to say it" she said looking at her feet

"that's the problem. I don't want this to end. I want this to be more then whatever the fuck we are doing. I don't want to just have sex with you. I want to take you out, take you to dinner. Have you wear my jerseys before games. I get jealous, cat."

Cat froze hearing him say those words because honestly she wasn't sure if she ever heard them before. She looked over at him a slight frown on her face shaking her head as she felt her eyes water "Y-you dont want that really.." "if I didn't want that I wouldn't get so damn pissed off watching you flirting or whatever the fuck is happening," he sighed. "Look if that's what you didn't want to hear I can just leave things where they are and call it a day or night or whatever, but that's how I feel."

Cat sighed rubbing her neck as she started to walk back and fourth listening "I am not saying that...I-I" her mind was racing and of course she liked mason "I dont know if i can give that to you... im a mess mason."

mason stood up and grabbed her hands to try and calm her down. "Then let me have a chance and show you that all the guys aren't the same around here," he said. His eye matching hers. "I don't want just sex. I want you in more forms then that, Cat. I don't know what else to say besides that."

Cat just looked at him and didn't look away. she wasn't sure what a stable relationship even looked like but she felt like it would be worth a shot right "I-.." she said not looking away from him and bit her lip "I want that too Mason"

"we've been having sex for two years and yeah no string attached, but I couldn't unhook them, Cat. I tried and even trying to sleep with anyone else wouldn't work. I couldn't even find myself to do that because I felt like I was cheating. Even if we weren't together."

Hearing him say that almost made her feel worse, while she cared about mason that whole time and really liked him she was able to do the no strings attached, "We can give it a chance" she smiled softly at him her hand touching his face the boy nodded his head and smiled at her. He wasn't sure what could happen, but he actually liked her and wanted to try things out and make sure this was okay. "Cat, I wanna do all that lame shit we joked about. Movies, dinner, I cook you dinner and watch whatever movie or show you want."

Cat felt her lips turning into a smile and laughed softly at the thought "That sounds...so nice hoenstly" she said moving closer to him.

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Tiff’s WTF*ck Challenge

Hey friends!

I’ve been feeling pretty disconnected - less reading, less reblogging, less interaction - since my job change and having less time to spend around here, so why not fix that with a writing challenge?! Yes? Yay!

One of my old favorite sources of internet humor is Sleep Talkin’ Man. And your assumption is correct, he talks in his sleep. His wife started recording him and posting the clips online and it’s hilarious.

SO - for this challenge, I’ve collected some of the absurd, inappropriate, foul, and funny quotes from that delightful fella and now challenge you to incorporate it into your SPN fanfic.

Rules:

Send your quote request as an ASK ONLY please so that I can keep track.

You can write for any SPN character, my preference is Sam and Dean, but you do what feels right.

Any genre/pairing/trope is welcome, just make sure you tag it appropriately!

One writer per prompt.

Fics will be due by July 1. I’ll post the masterlist just before I go to ChiCon.

Use the tag Tiff’s WTF Challenge to help me track your fic

Yes, you can combine it with another challenge, yes, you can have an extension if you ask for one, yes, it can be part of a series.

No, there is no word limit or max. However, you must use the “read more” feature if longer than 500 words.

Ready? Okay. 

“This is my story. It starts with me. And it ends with me. And everything in the middle is about me. Greatest fucking story ever written.” @acreativelydifferentlove

“You really are life’s wet patch. An embarrassing little stain that no one wants to admit to...or sleep on.”

“I shit gold, piss silver, and puke bronze. I don’t need a medal to tell me how fucking awesome I am. Got that, bitches?” @ellawinchester1993

“I’d rather peel off my skin and bathe my weeping raw flesh in a bath of vinegar than spend any time with you. But that’s just my opinion. Don’t take it personally.” @torn-and-frayed

“You’re gonna have to shave your pubes. It’s like fighting an army of permed spider legs down there, and I’m gonna lose. I’m gonna lose.” @deansbabygirl01

“Fuck! If I don’t get to the motherfucking flower show, I’m gonna fucking kill someone!” @frejahertziswritingthistime

“Why don’t you call back later, and we’ll see whether we can get the world to revolve around you.” @whispersandwhiskerburn

“I’m gonna have a great day...Don’t you fuck it up.” @roxy-davenport

“This little tampon went out, this little tampon stayed home. This little tampon had an applicator, this little tampon had none. This little tampon’s covered in...poop. WRONG HOLE, PEOPLE! Wrong hole.”

“Oh! It’s a poltergoat. A poltergoat! You can’t see em, but you find all your clothes chewed. If you listen carefully, you may hear a ghostly baaaahhhhh. Poltergoat! Baaaahhhhh.”

“Ghosts going bump in the night. Clumsy fuckers.” @quiddy-writes

“I’m like a vulnerable fawn in the woods. One that happens to carry an uzi, ninja throwing stars, and a motherfucking bazooka.” @winchesterprincessbride

“Now I’m going to ask really nicely for you to un-fuck this situation.” @mandilion76

“There was so much blood! Oh, there must have been at least five llamas. Totally unprovoked attack by those puffins. I managed to clip their wings. This is llama turf.”

“Well that’s just great. Peanut butter in my crack. Goddamn it.” @saxxxology 

“I’ve written your epitaph. Yup. I did it early. You wanna read it? ‘Here you are, lying dead. Ha ha ha ha ha.’” @sixtysevenandwhiskey

“It’s growling. Shhh, it’s growling closer...It’s an angry thing, a big angry thing. It likes cabbage, though.” @helloimsensitive

“Hey! You killed my velociraptor, dickhead. That’s so unfair. You do realize how hard it is to find one of those ‘round here, don’t you?”

“Sure you can have my phone number. It’s like having a direct line to God. But better. Because I answer.” @internationalmusicteacher

“How do blind people know they’re done wiping? How?” @mrsbatesmotel53

“I’m sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now. But if you’re not my mother, you can leave a message. Beeeep.” *Bonus points for not using Crowley* @soullessdemontrap

“If she sends me one more fucking smiley face emoticon, I’m gonna shove that keyboard so far up her ass, she’s gonna have to tweak her nipples to force quit.” @kayteonline

“I need someone else to help me catch ghosts. Cause we’re going out to kick seven shades of spiritual shit. Yeaaaah. Ghose kickers! Free floating vapor? Free floating fucker, more like. Come on, let’s get em!” @ravengirl94

“I wanted a shark with laser beams, and I got a manatee with a Maglite. For fuck’s sake, get back in your hole and get it right.”

“If honesty’s the best policy, and the truth hurts, then you’d better call an ambulance, cause you’re not gonna like the stuff I’m gonna fucking say.” @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

“Goddammit! Where’s my bazooka? I put it on the ground, expecting it to be there when I come back. Have you been tidying up again, cause I really would like my bazooka back. I don’t know where you put things. Jesus! Cannot just leave anything alone, can you?” @atc74

“It’s Captain Fluffer! Hero to teenage boys.”

“You’re right, elephants in thongs are not something you see every day. Enjoy it.”

“Back off Robin. Batman is my bitch now. You’re just a bitch’s bitch, bitch.” @seenashwrite

“OK, so that’s your weekend homework. Go home and slap grandma.”

“Your singing can wake the dead. So shut the fuck up. I don’t want any zombies dropping their jazz hands all over the fucking place. Alright? Just shut it.” @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

“Just put the fucking cow’s head on the pavement and walk away. Leave it alone, stop playing with it. It’s just a head. Ooooh, it’s got it’s eyeballs in still.”

“Happy Birthday! It’s a dead puppy!...Now listen, you: You didn’t specify a live puppy, you just said you wanted a fucking puppy! Jesus you’re spoiled. Now go take it for a drag.”

“I’m losing faith in humanity, one faked orgasm at a time.” @lipstickandwhiskey

“I’m sorry, but not knowing what a horcrux is is a deal-breaker to me. Deal with it, muggle-fucker.” *Bonus points for not using Charlie* @notnaturalanahi

“Vampire penguins? Zombie guinea pigs? We’re done for...done for.”

“It’s amazing how you can smell so bad, but still be alive.”

“Harder is NOT a good safe word.” @lifelovelaughangell123

“Buffalo wings? Are you insane? Those cows can’t fly. It’s a lie, I tell you. A fucking lie.”

“Scales. Must have scales. And razor claws. I want some feathers. And a goggly thing on its head. Yeahhh. Dinochicken. Awesome! I feel like a god. All right, what’s next? Guineapigasaurus. Bring it on!”

“Garlic cheese! Double death to you, you lactose intolerant vamp man!”

“God, you whine like whale song. But a lot less eerie and beautiful and more, well, fucking annoying.” @silencethroughwords

“Dance for me, go on. Oh, you were! I thought you were having a spaz attack...Doofus.”

“Leave my gnomes alone. They’re MY gnomes, living in MY house, doing MY gardening, and they’re happy. Look at their fucking smiley faces. Can’t you see how frickin’ happy they are? Who are you to judge me?! Go on, gnome, cut the grass. Good gnome. Good gnome.” @the-winchester-gospels-and-cas

“You can’t drop them. You can’t set them on fire. You can’t feed them to crocodiles. You can’t let them play with fireworks. I mean...kids: what the fuck?!” @ellen-reincarnated1967

“You know, with you you you, it’s all me me me. Well fuck fuck fuck fuck you you you.” @rizlow1

TAGS: For participation and signal boostage!

@mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @seenashwrite @notnaturalanahi  @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @babypieandwhiskey @idreamofhazel @impala-dreamer @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @mandilion76 @boxywrites @sherrybaby14 @sylverminx @there-must-be-a-lock @deandoesthingstome @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ceeceewinchester @kathaswings @dr-dean @roxy-davenport @avasmommy224 @moonlitskinwalker @docharleythegeekqueen @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @quick-act-supernatural @frick-you-im-a-princes @charliebradbury1104  @blacktithe7updates @klaineaholic  @ilsawasanacrobat  @ayeeitsemry @hexparker @quiddy-writes @ravengirl94 @donnaintx @rubynationwins @someday-once @winchesterprincessbride @manawhaat @anotherwinchesterfangirl @acreativelydifferentlove @luci-in-trenchcoats @whispersandwhiskerburn @lipstickandwhiskey

[hannahberrie]

hi! love your work! can you write a fic where el and hopper learn to cook together?

Sure thing! 

Whenever You Need SomebodyWC: 1128

It started when El was digging through the cabin’s crawlspace, again.

Hopper had advised her against digging around in there, but then again, when had El ever really listened to anything he said? Never, evidently.

It’s a rainy, weekend night and Hopper is sitting in front of the TV, listening to the newscaster half-heartedly announce that the thunderstorms are supposed to continue throughout the night and well into tomorrow.

Hopper lets out a long, heavy sigh just as El comes to sit beside him on the couch.

“What’s wrong?” El asks curiously, hands behind her back.

“The damn rain,” Hopper grumbles in reply, motioning to the TV, “The river’s already flooded over enough as it is.”

“Oh,” El replies, voice light with indifference. It’s then that Hopper realizes she has some ulterior motives of some kind — it’s the only explanation for the way she’s biting her lip, rocking in place, and keeping her hands behind her back.

“Alright, kid,” Hopper smiles, eyeing her carefully, “What do you want?”

El gives him an excited smile as she reveals what she’s been hiding behind her back this entire time: a cookbook. It’s an old, weathered, sorry excuse for a cookbook, still covered in dust from being tucked away in the crawlspace for so long. It belonged to Hopper’s mother as some point, was given to Hopper and Diane as a wedding present, and was promptly forgotten once…everything else happened.

“I want to learn to cook!” El beams, holding up the book to him.

Hopper eyes the book with hesitation. “Why?”

“It’d be fun!”

“You’re getting sick of my Triple-Decker Extravaganza already?” Hopper questions, only half-joking.

“No!” El exclaims, “But…I want to learn more stuff too. I was at Mike’s house, and his mom taught me how to make some things. I want to learn more.”

Hopper considers trying to argue against the idea, but he’s spent enough time with El to know that it’d only be futile. Once she has her mind set to something, it’s essentially set in stone.

“Fine,” he sighs, begrudgingly pulling himself up from the couch, “What do you wanna make?”

“Pizza!” El chimes, following him into the kitchen.

“Pizza?” Hopper echoes, frowning.

“Mmm hmm!” El nods, already flipping to the corresponding page in the cookbook.

“Why?”

“It’s good!” El shrugs, “And our cabin is too far for the pizza-man to drive to, I checked.”

“Fine then,” Hopper gives in, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt as he prepares himself. He hasn’t cooked anything more elaborate than microwaves dinners, frozen waffles, and French toast in years, so he doesn’t have a good feeling about this, to put it lightly. Then again, El isn’t exactly the expert chef herself, so they’re kinda together in this.

El gets out the ingredients they need, and the next half-hour is a floury, tomato-y, cheesy mess. El rolls out the dough and tries to flip it in the air like she’s seen on TV, but that only results in the crust getting stuck on the ceiling. They only get it down when El uses her powers to lower it, blushingly apologizing the entire time.

By the time they finish assembling their pizza (a simple cheese one, nothing extravagant), their cheeks are smeared with tomato sauce and their hands are covered in flour. Despite their laborious attempts, they couldn’t get the dough rolled out into a perfect circle.

“I hope you like egg-shaped pizza,” Hopper says wryly, sliding the pizza into the oven.

El giggles, munching on a few extra remnants of mozzarella cheese as she leans against the counter. “It’s going to be perfect!” She insists, “Even if it’s shaped like an egg.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hopper snorts, walking over to her. He gives her hair an affectionate ruffle, consequently causing her brown locks to become dusted with flour.

“Hey!” El exclaims, raising her hands to cover her hair, but the action only causes her hair to become even furthered floured.

“That’s what you get,” Hopper jokes, “For getting dough on the ceiling.”

“I got most of it off,” El grumbles, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Yeah, most,” Hopper replies dryly.

El gives him a reluctant smile. As the rain continues to pour outside, her mood seems to darken accordingly. She glances over her shoulder, gaze piercing though the window and into the inky black night, evidently brooding over something.

Her change in behavior is so sudden, it takes Hopper by surprise. When she turns back to look at him, he notices the shadow that’s passed over her face, the sorrowful way she glances at her feet.

Something’s obviously not right.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Hopper asks concernedly.

“It’s just…” El begins hesitantly, “I feel weird.”

“Weird?” Hopper repeats, feeling slightly anxious. Jesus, where was this going? He’s starting to get an idea, since El’s a teenage girl, after all, and he knew this conversation would be popping up sooner or later, but he wasn’t expecting it quite so soon.

“Mike and I have been…arguing lately,” El mumbles.

“Oh,” Hopper replies, unable to stop himself from sighing in relief, because thank god, they’re not having that conversation yet. Then what conversation they’re actually having hits him, and he finds himself tensing up again. “Oh?” Hopper repeats, more strongly, more accusingly.

“We’ve known each other for so long,” El says ruefully, “But my heart is aching. I’ve been to shy to say it, but—“

“But what?” Hopper frowns.

“I’m worried,” El admits, “I feel like he’s getting bored of me.”

“Bored of you?” Hopper balks. The idea is completely ludicrous to him. Ever since the Snowball, Mike’s been trailing El around like a lovesick puppy. Hopper could hardly keep the two apart for more than two days at a time.

El seems oblivious to this as she’s still pouting in an endearingly heart-breaking sort of way.

“Listen, kid,” Hopper sighs, kneeling down so that he’s at El’s eye level, “Mike isn’t going to get bored of you.”

“Really?” El asks hopefully, glancing up at him.

“Really,” Hopper nods, “I see the way he looks at you, okay? He’s crazy about you. He’s never gonna give you up. He’s never gonna let you down. He’s never gonna run around and desert you. He’s never gonna make you cry, he’s never gonna say goodbye, he’s never gonna tell and lie and hurt you.”

El blinks up at Hopper, eyes filled with happy tears. Without a doubt, those are the most comforting words she’s ever heard. “Thank you!” She beams, completely 100%-ly happier.

She flings her arms around Hopper’s neck, pulling him into a hug, and as Hopper hugs her back, he knows that he’s the best dad ever and WTF this fic is a meme lol the end

SURPRISE BITCHES! 

If you are not ross: please please please for the love of god, reblog this. please pretend that this is a normal fic. I worked really hard on this prank and this is going to be amazing if Ross (strange-thangs) actually falls for it. please reblog it with some fake ass BS like ‘wow!!! this is so cute!’ ‘great job!’ ‘gotta love some el and hop fluff’ wHATEVER YOU WANT. JUST MAKE IT SOUND REAL. I GOTTA PRANK ROSS. 

if you are ross: HAHAHHAA PUNK I FUCKING GOT YOU. I SKIPPED HOMEWORK FOR THIS. I SENT THIS PROMPT TO MYSELF. I CONSPIRED WITH LUCY. I WROTE THIS. BEAT THIS YOU AVOCADO FOOL. ACTUALLY JUST GIVE UP NOW BECAUSE YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO WIN THIS RICK-ROLL WAR. THE TITLE OF THE FIC IS THE TITLE OF THE ABLUM THAT THE RICK ROLL SONG IS FROM AHAHHAHAHAHHA