#he gives me no context with requests sometimes and then doesn't understand when i ask him things even tho he has full contextbdhdhd

[autisticandroids]

Hi. Since you seem to be a Cas-understander with a good grasp of canon, do you mind helping me figure something out? I have a SPN theory that hinges on just how much Castiel's actions are motivated by guilt. I mean, I know they are MASSIVELY motivated by a desire to fix the stuff he thinks he broke (and often did break), but my question is: How many instances can you think of where Castiel helped spontaneously, without being asked or there being some perceived kind of debt or exchange? I can only think of the example of him healing that baby's mystery illness, and tbh I've forgotten the context of that. Oh and there was that case he took while Sam and Dean were imprisoned by the feds... bc of angel business... nevermind. Everything else is either requested (including his rebellion, though that was a Big Ask and is what my theory is about), a bribe (Soulless Sam), self-inflicted punishment, or a debt that's owed (Claire). Just... in a show about two brothers who do the shittiest volunteer work possible but which they actively seek out bc they want to help people - and sometimes kill things, but mostly it's about helping - Cas seems kind of passive until something forces his hand.

well there are a couple situations where he works cases - golden time and gimme shelter, for example. and arguably heaven can't wait - he calls dean for help in that episode but he does take initiative there. and he frequently helps people who ask him to, often other angels (see: season nine and early season ten angel plots; rachel's approach to him in the man who would be king). and of course dean, as you said. and i'll throw in kelly as well.

but you've hit on something interesting about cas because he is in fact extremely passive. he tends to just sort of stand there and wait for someone to give him an order, which, you know, kind of makes sense. he spent billions of years doing just that, it's what he's used to. so in the first few seasons, he mostly does that. then a bunch of bad things happen at least nominally because of choices he made, and that natural passivity turns into trauma-induced learned helplessness. he essentially learns that he can't do anything right, and reacts by trying to yoke himself to the nearest authority figure. i've written or reblogged a lot of posts about cas and choice and post-godstiel trauma generally, here's a selection that i might suggest:

on honey cas specifically: one / two / three

on his reactions to godstiel arc: one / two / three

on cas and free will generally: one / two / three / four

also, interestingly, the vast majority of his conflict is based in this tendency to do what other people tell him: most of his conflict is about divided loyalties, where he's trying to obey two different sets of people who hate each other, and eventually has to choose between them (usually but not always heaven vs. the winchesters).

also, interestingly, when he does help people proactively, it's him acting as a hunter (as noted before, in golden time, gimme shelter, and heaven can't wait, as well as a bunch of times offscreen in the dabb era when he goes hunting with jack bc they didn't feel like paying misha and alcal that episode). so that's something he learns from salmondean and from being around them, it's not something he would have thought of before, being an angel, essentially expected for most of his existence to be a machine that follows orders. but it also doesn't make a ton of sense - in stairway to heaven, we see cas ordering a contingent of his army to go help people with their angel powers at the local hospital, which, if later, after that falls apart, he wanted to help people, is something he could do instead of hunting, so it's interesting to see him functioning essentially according to expectations rather than thinking logically about what would help, but cas have never been the most logical guy in the universe.

and the thing is that this has a doylist explanation: cas is a side character. salmondean, as protagonists, have to Do The Plot, and cas has to just sort of sit there waiting for them to tell him what to do. this is why, for example, cas is the only one who is allowed to show his trauma and issues by collapsing and being unable to do stuff (as opposed to hitting things and yelling and drinking and flinching but still accomplishing tasks at the same rate as normal). and it's also why he only does things when other people ask: because his motivations don't really matter to the narrative, so they don't really exist.

but also re: your ask: i also think it's... kind of strange? to conceptualize such an intense moral distinction between types of motivation, and between active and passive. but let me play in the space for a few paragraphs and see where it takes me.

so like... the winchesters seem to also be significantly motivated by other things? like, revenge (notably sam in the pilot, because he wanted out of the hunting life and didn't change his mind until jessica, but also a lot of moments in the later seasons like dean killing the stynes or moriah), or family obligation (i feel like this is obvious), or, yes, guilt (at the end of season seven, once dean isn't keeping him in the life, sam dips immediately, and then when dean comes back he guilt trips him aggressively with the potential people he could have saved until sam is broken down, and this is when sam seems to give up his dream of leaving hunting; in what is and what should never be, it seems like dean's main motivation for leaving the dream instead of just dying in there, happy, is the guilt of all the people he's not saving.

plus, as the show goes on, they seem less and less interested in saving people. for example, in season eleven, sam has a few episodes of like "hey maybe we should try prioritizing saving people instead of just killing things" and dean is like you pussy idiot. and then sam is taught a lesson in 11x06 (someone literally says "pacifism doesn't pay" in it) and reverts back to the old ways of not...... really caring about victims all that much. but even in the beginning saving people was kind of a tenuous goal at best. in season four, sam and dean have this big argument over sam's powers, and sam's argument is that the powers save people instead of just killing them, and dean's argument is that... using inhuman abilities makes sam a monster and monsters are bad. and in the end, dean's side is endorsed by the narrative. so like the "saving people" in "saving people, hunting things" is frequently just sort of a bonus.

i mean, look at stairway to heaven, the episode where cas has angels (including one called flagstaff) helping people at the local hospital:

FLAGSTAFF: No. Can I go? I have lives to save. DEAN: Welcome to the club. [FLAGSTAFF smirks] Something funny? FLAGSTAFF: Not funny "ha ha." But you thinking you help people -- it's amusing. I help people. A clogged artery here, a tumor there. I do good in this world. You -- you believe every problem can be solved with a gun. You play the hero, but underneath the hype, you're a killer with oceans of blood on his hands. I hate men like you.

dean has no answer for this, and ends up just physically assaulting her. and in the end, dean ends up semi-purposefully wrecking cas' whole organization, a group whose purpose was to help angels and organize them into a nonabusive form of government, because cas can't be allowed to make choices outside of following dean's orders (echoes of godstiel arc here). like cas is actually punished for any attempts at agency he takes, including attempts to help people. so it kinda makes sense that he's like... not big on initiative.

and re: the distinction you make between active and passive altruism, how is going out and actively trying to help people so different from giving help when asked? especially if you compare him to the winchesters, who frequently refuse requests for help (especially from cas, actually). which smacks of their desire to help people maybe having more to do with control than help.

[aio-rya]

"Give me a sign" — Leona x reader

One shot requested by: Anon

『Btw anon, I'm sorry I didn't have the Anon mode on until like two days ago.』

Days kept going on as [y/n] started being fond of everyone they met at NRC, specially the Braincell Squad along Epel, Jack and yeah, Sebek, who sometimes joined them too. Most of the time, when they were not causing trouble at their dorms, they gathered at Ramshackle for "studying". Though there was one day a week [y/n] used to sneak out, following Epel around to his Magift practice.

The last time they saw a game was when they were hit conveniently by the disc thanks to Grimm's movements, but [y/n] was not really interested on the game, oh no —those getaways were to see someone. Indeed, the same person why they lurked around Savanaclaw with Jack by the end of the day. And everything was fine until...

"What the hell are you doing here, herbivore?" the lion man asked behind them. [Y/n] froze right there, crouched behind one of the seats of the bleachers.

Did I forget telling that [Y/n] felt Leona doesn't like them? Well, now you know.

"I... Epel" they answered nervously and without context, putting a strand of their [h/c] hair behind their ear. "He forgot his water bottle and..."

"Tsk. Whatever you are doing here, do it fast and go away" he interrupted, rolling his eyes and passing by them as if that never happened.

And this was the day to day of [y/n] and Leona whenever they got to see each other. The matter was that he, Leona Kingscholar himself, felt sort of intimidated by the little human —why? He didn't know. It was sort of an allergic reaction or something, he felt his heart beat harder, his cheeks burning hot like feber, sort of a knot on his stomach and words flew away from his head.

"Hey, Kingscholar! I... Brought you these" [y/n] said as they extended him two special meat sandwiches from the cafeteria.

Leona turned around on his napping spot, looking at the human, then at the food and then, he turned around again, giving his back to the little one, who still held the sandwiches towards him.

"I Don't need them..." the lion said, and dismissed them with a movement of his hand, "Ruggie has already brought me something".

"I... I See" the human said, withdrawing his hand. "Then... You're gone. Again" they sighed while realising Leona's breath got a slower pace, he was asleep. There was nothing to do but leave; said and done.

Lucky was the big cat that they've already left when his ears twitched on signal that he was not sleeping, his eyes slightly opened, listening to the human voice with a trace of worry left behind. "It couldn't be sadness, or is it?" he told himself, turning to face the glass ceiling of the Botanical Garden with his hands behind his head.

"You really dismissed [y/n]'s food? They even fought with me for that since there were only three of those things left, ya'now?" Ruggie's voice snapped him out of his trance as the hyena threw a packed meat sandwich over his stomach. Then he heard a wrapper being opened as he sat down, looking at his friend at the moment he bite a sandwich —exactly the same like the one he threw at him a few seconds ago.

Ruggie realized about that and stopped, "What?" he asked towards Leona, still munching a piece of sandwich, when the lazy lion lifted a finger pointing directly to the food. "I'm not giving it to you" he stated in a possesive tone, holdingh tighter his food.

"It's not that” the dorm leader growled, “But... You said there were only three left..." Leona mumbled, unwrapping his food and starting to bite it too.

"Oh yeah, [y/n] gave it to me when I passed them back on the front gate of the Garden. They only needed one for his raccoon friend, even though, they got the other one for you” he continued munching while explaining the ruckus they caused on the cafeteria for those limited dishes. "Hey Leona!" Ruggie snapped his fingers in front of him "Are you okay? It's not like you to space out that obviously."

"I think I'm sick" he reflected out loud while making a pitch of his empty wrapper to the rubbish.

"I think you're lazy~ shishishishi"

"Don't go too smart" Leona shot him a wry look and sighed. "I think I'm allergic to that herbivore or something like that."

"What? C'mon, you're not serious" Ruggie sneered. Leona grunted, "Okay then, why do you think that?"

"Because..." He turned away, aware of his blush. "When [y/Ln] is near, my chest aches and I feel as I wanted to cough; also my stomach feels strange, as if I were hungry but also anxious? And there is this thing on my face... I run a fever every time that herbivore is near...."

"Buuuut~"

"But I like its smell. Or its presence" he finished with nothing more than a whisper.

"I see!" the hyena almost shouted, starting the lion, "You love them."

"Another joke like that and you're gone" he stared at Bucchi, angry but ashamed.

"Oh man... I'm just being honest" the blonde shrugged starting to walk away, "do as you wish but be careful. I don't how for how long [y/n] is going to bear you."

"Maybe he was tired", Deuce tried, quietly.

"Told you", Ace seconded him. "He's just like that, you cannot change him and... Have you thought that maybe he just doesn't like you? I mean like... Around him as he do with anyone else?"

"He was nice once" [y/n] tried to bring as an excuse, "After the Blot thing, he was someway nice. But... I did something wrong?"

Jack shook his head, "You should forget him. He's not the one, and I'm sorry about this but Ace is right..."

"Can I record that?" Trappola laughed, trying to open the camera of his phone.

"Shut up" Howl snapped, joining the laugh while hugging the little non-magic human between them.

"I think I can handle it. I mean... Nothing lasts forever and this little scratches heal with time" they tried to smile, eyes teary.

"Hey, we're here!" Epel cheered, "if you need to cry, to talk or you just want to mess around a little, call us!"

"That's why I call you my friends" and finally, the genuine smile appeared, "I'll sleep on it, I swear".

And both of them did: Kingscholar and [y/Ln]. Unfortunately, they reached two very opposite conclusions.

The little herbivore began to let go of their feelings, now they were no longer around Savanaclaw or the Magift training or even on the third years classrooms, they were free. Of course it still hurted whenever someone mentioned Leona, or at the Dorm Leader meetings or even when he was lurking around the cafeteria. Specially the last one was odd of the lion, and everyone around him noticed —even Vil started asking around what in hell happened to him.

"Ah, Ruggie-san" he said with velvety voice.

"Prefect Schoenheit" blonde hyena answered.

"Is Leona okay? He has been... Nicer than usual"

"Ah, you too. In fact, he's not really fine. His heart is about to break" Ruggie said, a bit worried as Vil gasped, not as an act but in genuine surprise, "his herbivore grew tired of him..."

Well, you see... Since [y/n] started getting rid of their unrequited love, Leona accepted it. And now it hurted so bad every time he got to see his herbivore: there was no "H-hey Leona..." or "Hello Kingscholar!" or any kind of cheerful greetings, everything tuned into a cold "Good morning/afternoon, Prefect Kingscholar", "Excuse me, Prefect Kingscholar" —they even stopped bumping into him, no more visits to his napping spot at the Botanical Garden and even when they got to Magift practice, Epel will always arrive alone. The knot in his stomach and the fever on his cheeks turned into a harsh pain on his throat and a burning heat on his eyes.

Meanwhile, Braincell Squad and first years club was proud, their little human finally was free and not depressed by the mistreatment of the Prince.

A couple of months passed until one evening, after clases, [y/n] made their way back to Ramshackle when heard someone sobbing, that scared them since Epel was having a hard time. By following the noise, they bumped into Leona and immediately tried to avoid him, but the lazy lion was not that slow; he walked quickly and grabbed their shoulders.

"Please, stop avoiding me" he said, not bothering on hiding the trembling of his voice.

"I... I am not" they said slowly, "Pref--"

"Don't" he grunted painfully, "Come back to call me Leona with that lively loud voice. Wake me up from my naps again, stare at me in the hallway so I can stare at you when you look away..." He sobbed again, weakening his grip, about to let his arms fall, "I... I am sorry."

"Why... Why are you apologising?" they asked, turning around to face him.

"Because I treated you so bad, and I... Thought I had an allergic reaction... To you" Leona whispered, [y/n] giggled.

"As far as I know, you cannot be allergic to a human" then they caressed one of Leona's braids, he stared at their [e/c] eyes, a pale gleam reflected on them. "It's fine, don't worry. We can still be friends".

He shook his head and caught them between his arms.

"I have denied it for too long. You deserve more, I was so mean, but I don't want to be just a friend" he explained tenderly, burying his nose on their hair, aspiring its sweet perfume.

"Leona, I'm not sure--"

"Just give me a sign..."

Silence. They just stayed like that, holding each other, [y/n] biting his bottom lip as Leona rubbed their back. When he finally was ready, understanding the situation and letting go of them, he got interrupted by a hold on his collar.

Then, a soft, sweet and warm pair of lips slammed against his.

It was a kiss full of fear and sadness that slowly turned into a gentle one. Full of untold feelings that tangled and finally were silently confessed.

"Is this enough?" the human asked, caressing his lover's cheek.

"It is more than enough... My loved herbivore".

—・ Φ・—

I melted with Leona's soft side, I don't know where I got the inspiration but I felt this took too long. Hope you like it too!

«Please do not repost or translate without permission»

[sachirou-senpai]

Tatsuki Washio boyfriend headcanons

Warnings: Two mentions of N* FW, choking, daddy kink, mentions of creeps, use of the names angel and beautiful. Post is tagged appropriately.

A/n: This wasn't requested, but that one anon got me thinking,, he's cute as hell. And would be a good boyfriend. I like him. Also S4 Washio is hot as hell. Like seriously.

→ Gentle giant. He's about 6'2" or 188 cm. He's so tall, and he honestly really likes it. Definitely enjoys the easy access to pat your head.

→ He gives the best hugs. God, you feel like you'll never be hurt ever again. (And with him holding you? You probably won't.)

→ Will smile at you So Much. Everything you do is so goddamn cute to him. Soft, sweet smiles, generally reserved for you, but he doesn't mind who sees.

→ He's literally SO soft for you. So fucking soft. He really loves you with all of his heart and he'll do basically anything for you.

→ Washio will give you cute little plushies just to see you smile. Most of the ones you have are from him. He also likes buying you snacks, trinkets, etc.

→ His favorite thing is when you catch him smiling at you and smile back. Especially if you smile up at him. He just thinks it's so cute and he'll kiss you right on the forehead if you do it. He hasn't quite figured out you'll do it on purpose sometimes just to get a kiss.

→ Protective boyfie. So protective. But never in the overbearing way. He makes sure he lets you have your space. Unless the situation calls for drastic action, he's pretty subtle. Standing in-between you and a suspicious person on the train, always walking you home at night, answering the door first.

→ Don't get me wrong though, Washio is not afraid to get physical with someone creeping you out. He's there the second he notices something is wrong.

→ Not the most affectionate boyfriend ever, but he has his moments of craving affection. When he's super tired from a game he gets super cuddly. If he's gonna show PDA, it's now. And also with the smile thing hehe.

→ Likes when you talk to him. He could listen to you talk forever and ever. He wants to be listened too as well, though. He really doesn't talk much, but he firmly believes he has something important to say when he does. So listen!

→ Also, he has such a deep and comforting voice. You will be put to sleep if you're not careful, I guarantee it.

→ Speaking of having something important to say: he gives the best advice. He thinks before he speaks so what he says is always so meaningful.

→ But he's also really good at distractions. He'll hold you and long as you'd like, just slowly rocking you back in forth. He has a couple songs he likes to sing to you too.

→ Can and will joke with you. He's honestly pretty funny. They're usually context based jokes, which make them even funnier.

→ Not a huge user of pet names, but he has a couple he really enjoys. Most common are angel and beautiful. Washio really likes your name though, so he mostly calls you that.

→ Really respectful of your boundaries. Would NEVER push you farther than you wanted. He's very patient, and generally just a normal human being who understands consent.

→ NSFW!! When he does have your consent to fuck you? Soft. Slow. So sweet. Looks at you as if you're his whole fucking world- because you are. Can get rougher if you ask, but it'll take a while. He's a big person, and would never want to hurt you.

→ NSFW!! Secretly has a daddy kink. Will never bring it up unless you do. So embarassed for no reason, poor baby.

→ Overall, Washio is such a good boyfriend. You'll be well taken care of, I guarantee it.

Please reblog if you enjoyed.

[himitsu-luna]

Reaction

ᘛ:｡Nct 127 helping you study and do your assignments:°•

Context: You are a freshman at college, and this member is your veteran. You were having trouble with some subjects, so he volunteered to help you study and do your assignments

How would they help you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~°Taeil

He would not prepare much material for your study session

He has the basics in his head, and that would be enough yeees sexc brains

He would be a pretty chill tutor

He would be the type of person that doesn't really lecture about the subject, but guides you into the things he considers important and lets you try to learn by yourself.

He wants you to think, and he would stimulate it

You would study a little, then you would chat, then you would joke around, then you would go back studying

With him you would have the perfect balance between hard work and relaxing

But sometimes you would need to call him back to Earth, because he can get distracted easily thinking of Winwin

After studying, you would go grab something to eat

~°Johnny

Johnny actually is a great study buddy

He could be a teacher if he wanted to.

He would always have a board or a notebook in hands, so he can make schemes for you to understand everything better

He would make sure you understood everything before going to the next topic

He would be patient and serious, but would joke a little bit too

Study sessions with him demand coffee. He would have his own coffee supply

You two would study until late at night, and you would not even realize it

For your assignments, he would lend you his notes and everything, so you can get some ideas

~°Taeyong

Taeyong would try everything to help you

He would grab his books, search some videos, get his notes, get the best student of his class' notes, get his professor's notes, get Einstein's notes, get everything he thinks could help you

He would be really patient, and he actually explains things in a really easy way to understand

He wouldn't mind helping you for days and days

He gets more excited than you when you get an answer right

At the same time he wants you to succeed in your studies, he makes sure you are not overworking, and that you resting and eating well too

~°Yuta

Yuta would prepare some material for you, but not a lot like Taeyong

He would select the most important things only, and he would share with you a lot of useful audios and notes of his personal study collection

He would be extremely patient too

He wants to understand what's difficult for you, so he can think of how to solve the problem

Like Johnny, he would make sure you understood everything. He really wants you to go well in your exams

He knows the time to joke and relax too

He would give you the best tips and advices ever on studying and on using your time better

And he knows things like : " ah, this professor, they usually elaborate their tests like this/ this other professor, if you want to make them happy, do this"

~°Doyoung

Doyoung would prepare a lot of material beforehand

He feels responsable for you, so he wants to do his best to help you

He would explain you everything. Things you already know, things you had not understood , things you don't even learned yet, and things you doubt you will learn in your course but that's ok

He is really good at explaining things

He likes to teach through exercises and problem resolution too

He would speak a lot, but he would take the time to talk to you too

At the end, he would give you an overall view on what you are doing great and what you need to improve on your studying

And he always wants to know how you're doing and if you need help again

~°Jaehyun

Jaehyun would be a chill study partner

He has the basic informations with him, and would explain things to you in a really calm and simple yet complete way.

If you don't understand something, he doesn't mind repeating it thousands of times.

And he would always try to explain it in a different way

Actually you got distracted by his dimples and could not focus on the explanation

He likes to revise every topic you studied at the end, so he can be sure you got everything right

He likes to have some milk coffee too while studying

He would actually want to have casual weekly study sessions with you, so he can revise things too

~°Winwin

Winwin would be a serious cute tutor

It's funny cute tbh

He is really into teaching you, and takes it very seriously cute

He likes doing cute schemes and drawings, like Johnny, and like more practical ways of thinking

So he gives a lot of examples and contextualizes his cute explanations

He is always asking cutely: "did you understand, Did you understand?You want me to repeat?"

At the end he smiles widely and proudly and cutely after seeing your progress

~°Jungwoo

Jungwoo would not prepare much material beforehand too

He is confident in his brains and he is right

But he would prepare a whole picnic instead hehe

He would prefer to help you through problem resolution and conversations

Your study sessions would be really enjoyable

The way he puts his explanations, always playing with words and using jokes and clever puns, would help you assimilate the ideas easily

You two would be munching, then studying, then munching, then talking, then studying, then munching

This guy is a genius, I don't even need to say anything here. At the end of the day, you would be a genius too.

~°Mark

Mark has the best of intentions

He takes notes of everything, so that would help you

He explains things either in a cute way, or in a really intricate way

He would find things he didn't remember and would go "Omg I had completely forgotten this hahahah geeeez"

But he is super super smart, so he manages to end every doubt you have

He would praise you a lot when you get a question right. Super supportive guy

Your study sessions would be really fruitful and light and giggly

~°Haechan

Haechan would be pretty much like Jungwoo

Your study sections would be based in stimulating conversations and brainstorms about the subject

You would have a really interesting and dynamic study session

He is pretty serious in helping you, but would always tease you a bit when he sees the opportunity

At the end of the process, you would realize you actually learned and understood a lot of things

And now you have to pay him a dinner for the service

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for the request sistah @urirealvibekiller ! I hope you like this!! ❤️

[wrightiverse]

Hello and this is me annotating/doing director's commentary for the last chapter of Crowd as a victory lap. There's no indulgence like self-indulgence.

“I’ll just make my hot young boyfriend help me,” Robin teases. “When I’m eighty, you’ll only be sixty-nine.”

I love to take a thing from the beginning of a story/scene and revisit it at the end. In this case, 'hot young boyfriend' is a light callback to 'sexy-ass, significantly younger boyfriend' back at the beginning when Robin was sad about the empty nest situation. This is, I think, the first time we specify their exact age gap. It is also the exact age gap I have with my own partner, because I’m very lazy like that. (None of this was written with any reference to what's gone on in the podcast over the last year or so, which is good because it sounds like the whole aging thing for Glenn could have gotten really confusing. Wrightiverse Glenn came back right after Ravenloft, none of that other stuff happened to him. It's all good. Canon is optional.) * * * * *

It’s not like the men in his family have much luck in that area, anyway; Glenn never met either of his grandfathers, and Bill didn’t make it much past fifty.

I think Meryl actually lived for hundreds of years and is still alive in Faerun and they should totally meet, but Glenn doesn’t know all that. * * * * *

Aesthetics aside, it didn't seem like there was much for Glenn to look forward to in middle age and beyond. Nick would grow up and wouldn’t need his dad anymore, and Glenn would be all alone.

From Glenn’s second chapter in Crowd, when Robin is sad about Connor leaving for college:

“I want him to be independent,” Robin is trying to explain into Glenn’s knee, “but also I don’t want to be all alone.” Glenn flicks his ear reproachfully. “You're not all alone. I’m right here, dumbass.”

Sometimes what seems obvious when we're explaining it to somebody else doesn't feel as obvious when it's our turn. Admittedly, Glenn is coming to this with a different set of experiences than Robin is. More on that later. * * * * *

His career would go to shit, because getting old only works for rock stars if they’re actually bluesmen in disguise, like Keith Richards.

I think I got this theory from something Chuck Klosterman wrote, probably Fargo Rock City. * * * * *

He starts his grounding exercise without even thinking about it. Five things he can see: one, an information sign for the city park. Two, a freshly-painted bike rack. Three, some big public art sculpture that looks like a giant rusty hairbrush…

This particular grounding exercise came up earlier in Crowd. I didn't make it up for the story, it's real and many people find that it works well. Feel free to try it! The exercise he alludes to when they’re on the beach, creating ‘safe spaces’ out of vivid memories with lots of sensory details, is also based on a real thing. Lauren, his therapist, is named after the therapist who worked with me on my own PTSD and taught me that and a lot of other good stuff. At least based on my own experience, I can highly recommend EMDR if you can find a good practitioner. * * * * *

It was a hella sweet gesture from the kid.

Connor’s introduction in Name has to do with him carrying shirts past Glenn, and one of those shirts becomes important later to Robin. Given how big the GC3 actually seems to be, I don’t think Connor did the majority of their merch. I assume they used a regular printer and Connor just did small runs of fun custom stuff when he feels like it, meaning not much changed after Glenn quit. * * * * *

Of course, Robin is the only member of the family wearing the shirt right now, because Robin is the only one who doesn’t care that it isn’t cool to wear merch from the gig at the gig itself.

I have no idea how widespread the ‘no wearing merch from the gig at the gig’ thing is, but that’s the rule I learned. * * * * *

Robin is chatting away about something, but it’s hard to follow with all the noise and distraction around them. Glenn decides to let it ride, and allows himself to zone out and just watch Robin talk.

As requested by my brilliant co-author, this is a callback to when Robin spaces out watching Glenn talk on their first date. Both Robin and Glenn are consistently very prone to tuning out when the other one is talking, but neither of them particularly care. As Glenn says on their dinner date - sometimes a man just wants to think out loud for a while and get a ‘hell yeah’ in response. * * * * *

It's vastly unfair that Robin looks so good in direct sunlight, but he probably pulls it off because he's the one person in Los Angeles who isn't trying to look younger than he actually is.

Glenn should spend less time in WeHo. * * * * *

There’s already more gray in Robin’s hair than when they met, although Glenn will only accept partial blame for that. Either way, the old man’s on track to be a full-on silver fox before he even hits fifty.

It felt necessary to drop a reminder that despite how Glenn talks about him, Robin is not actually that damn old. I mean, I'm sure that sounds very old to some of you, but when you're in your mid-to-late 30s like Glenn, somebody in their late 40s is not unreasonably decrepit. I think it has more to do with their respective energies than actual birthdays. * * * * *

“What is it?” Robin has noticed Glenn’s gaze, and he touches his own face to check if there's something on it.

Glenn grins. "Nothing, just ogling."

This is another callback to their first date:

“Do I have something on my face?” Glenn asks, and rubs at his mouth.

“No, you’re good.” Robin says. “You’re great.”

Because I adore a full-circle moment, that's why. * * * * *

“Your eyes were intense," Robin laughs. "It looked like you were going to start growling redrum at me."

This is my own fault for saying in the last chapter that Glenn was rambling about Kubrick moon landing conspiracies when he comes back from his walk. I tried like seven different ways to get them on the subject. I still don’t know if it feels natural. * * * * *

Glenn stabs an accusatory finger toward Robin. “Did you suggest not doing the show because you knew I’d argue with you and talk myself into doing it?”

Can’t outro this story without at least a little argayment.

Glenn usually finds him in the bathroom at the end of the night, looking grumpy about being up past his bedtime and holding some girl’s hair back while she barfs.

With what we've learned about Robin over the course of Crowd, we now have the context to understand that for Robin, this drunk girl is very much the ghost of Christmas Past. I don't imagine he goes to many of these parties.

* * * * *

It doesn’t bother Glenn a bit. Life isn’t a movie, the cheerleader doesn’t have to put on leather pants and start smoking in order to get her bad boy and her happily ever after.

I know that there’s more going on in Grease than that, but consider: would Glenn know that?

* * * * *

He and Robin are very different people, and they always will be. They don’t make sense on the surface, but they both know who they are, and who they are fits together perfectly.

Circling back to Robin at the end of Name, expressing his anxieties:

Robin rests his forehead on the steering wheel, avoiding Glenn’s eyes. “Like I don’t make sense for you, and everybody can see it.”

Some of the circles that I closed in Crowd were ones that were opened in Crowd, but some went back further. * * * * *

Love bubbles up in Glenn like a shaken-up soda, and he finds himself standing up suddenly and grabbing Robin’s shirt collar to tug him down for a kiss.

I wanted to mirror the ‘Hot Dad surges forward to kiss him, hard’ thing from the beginning, but given the established height difference, Glenn can’t just go for it unannounced unless he’s gonna stand tippy-toe. Thank you @whotaughtyougrammar for this art of what happens when Glenn tries the collar-tug and Robin doesn't notice fast enough.

* * * * *

Robin is caught off guard and stumbles half a step back, managing at the last second not to drop his drink. “One second, sweetheart, just one second. You surprised me. What was that about?”

Glenn gives him a lopsided grin. “Luck?”

“Oh, well, then. For luck.”

Luck and how to change it is a big theme throughout the whole series, both in the sense of ‘good fortune/unearned blessings’ and ‘random, unforeseen chance.’ More later about that. * * * * *

When Glenn presses his tongue forward to slip between Robin’s lips, he tastes lemon and sugar.

Same as the first time they kissed, when he’d been drinking whiskey sours.

* * * * *

“Right, yeah,” Robin breathes, but he doesn’t let Glenn out of his arms quite yet. “You know,” Robin adds, “Nick was telling me earlier that he’s going to sleep over at Grant’s tonight.”

So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight * * * * *

She’d found him there, and she'd saved him, like she always did.

We didn’t know Morgan’s name when we first wrote the scene where they discussed her in Name, so we wrote around it as though Glenn was reluctant to name her out loud. We maintained this throughout the rest of Crowd except for the line where Glenn says that he’ll tell Robin about the phone call with Morgan. Felt right. Her presence is very much felt but Glenn, at least, is not in the habit of talking about her unless he has no other option. * * * * *

They ran out of the venue and down the street, hand in hand and giggling like kids playing hooky.

@shrack was the one who began writing our Glenn with very physical methods of showing affection. I liked it a lot as a vibe and carried on with it. He and Morgan are also very young here. Glenn would be 21 or 22 at the oldest, which is barely older than Connor is now. I've always attributed some of his immaturity to the fact that he became a parent pretty young. (Glenn is 36 when Name starts and Nick is 13, meaning Nick was born when Glenn was 23 and probably conceived when Glenn was 22.)

* * * * *

It was like falling in love with every single person in the crowd, all at once. Glenn felt like he would never be lonely again as long as he could have that feeling.

Facing twenty thousand of your friends / how can anyone feel so lonely? * * * * *

By then, the GC3 performed in venues so cavernous that Glenn couldn’t see anything outside his own spotlight. He could hear the audience roar approval at him, making a wall of sound that he could feel like a physical force. It was loud enough to drown out the screaming in his head, loud enough to let him forget that she wasn’t out there among them. It was the closest he could get to forgetting, so Glenn did it as much as he could.

Part of a success that never ends / But I’m thinking about you only... * * * * *

Slowly but surely, he’d been learning how to go through life with his mind and heart focused on someone else’s well-being. It didn’t come naturally: that wasn’t the kind of family either of them knew. Still, they’d promised each other that they could do better than how they were raised.

I am never here for iterations of this dynamic that assume Glenn is the fuck-up and Morgan was the perfect parent. They both became parents at exactly the same moment, you know? The world does not need one more story with an incompetent sitcom dad and his smoking-hot wife who does all the actual parenting. * * * * *

Nick is long since asleep, but Adele fucking Close has stayed up until these sickening hours of the early morning.

Conveniently, Glenn’s brain has overwritten all his memories with the correct name and pronouns for Nick, because writing around it is a pain in the ass otherwise. * * * * *

“Hello, Glenny.”

Bill calling Glenn “Glenny” that time at Ravenloft really stuck with me. I don’t know if they ever revisited that in the actual podcast, but it was so slimy and chilling somehow. * * * * *

“I fucked up,” Glenn says bluntly, and his mother narrows her eyes ever so slightly at his cursing.

Glenn gets in his own head early in Crowd about comparing himself to Penny, and Robin later worries about putting himself on ‘the same level’ as Morgan. Neither of them are quite galaxy-brained enough to realize that there’s more than one person in Glenn’s life who uses a lot of terms of endearment for him, considers themselves old-fashioned, and wishes everybody wouldn’t swear so much. * * * * *

“Thank you, mother,” Glenn grits out. He sounds absolutely nothing like himself, not that she minds. “I appreciate your help.”

I assume that part of the reason Glenn has such a hard time offering genuine apologies is that when he was growing up, too much of his apologizing was forced rather than sincere. * * * * *

“You are out of chances. If you continue to neglect this child, I will get the state involved, and I will take custody myself. I’ve already spoken to the Freemans, and I have their full support.”

Morgan’s parents are not mentioned very often and don’t seem to be a big part of the Close boys’ lives. I imagine that whatever tenuous relationship Glenn had forged with them post-accident was pretty much destroyed by Adele forming this alliance with them and telling Glenn about it. * * * * *

Her patient demeanor is meant to remind him that she's here to clean up his mess again, like she always does, and his proper response is humble and apologetic gratitude.

And that is why Robin being patient can set Glenn off so bad, such as after the bike accident when they were arguing:

Glenn doesn’t really hear most of what Robin’s saying. It’s all just soothing, pointless stuff in that obnoxious tone that means Robin thinks he’s the smart, calm, mature one here and Glenn’s the immature asshole who lost his temper again. He’d never say it, but Glenn can tell what he’s thinking.

I hope it came across clearly in that part that Robin doesn’t actually see the situation that way and isn’t saying or thinking anything to that effect, but Glenn feels like he is because he’s had this somatic/emotional reaction triggered. Spatially he's arguing with Robin, but his body and a lot of his brain thinks he's arguing with his mom. Trauma can be like that. * * * * *

His mother keeps talking like he didn’t say a word. “We can all stay in each others’ lives, Glenny. I’m not trying to cut you out, I’m trying to help you. I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family.”

Sometimes the monster will tell you it's not a monster. * * * * *

From that night forward, Glenn will always know that he’s not a good person, because he almost takes his mother up on the offer.

I don’t think being tempted by this offer means Glenn’s a bad person, but we write Glenn as somebody who wishes he was a good person but is really afraid that he isn’t. He was at a very low point here and he needed help. Feeling drawn to the only help on offer, even if it was from a toxic source, is pretty understandable. * * * * *

"I'll get Nicky ready for school tomorrow and you can sleep in. We’ll finish talking about this when you feel better.”

Man, I hate that abuser thing when they start being sweet as soon as you muster the energy to fight back. You get a little bit of steam built up and then they dodge you like a matador so that it dissipates again. To be clear, Nicky isn't Nick's deadname or anything, it's just the somewhat baby-ish diminutive form that Adele uses for him, like how she calls Glenn "Glenny." * * * * *

“Family is important,” his mother says sadly. Just before she closes the door, she gives him a look that’s an exquisite mix of regret, tender affection, and a tiny spark of hope. Adele would have been a great actress, but Glenn can’t imagine who that particular performance was for.

Performance skills run in the family and Adele comes by her acting chops honestly, although she doesn’t know it. I picture one of those situations where a young woman from a good background gets pregnant by some rakehell actor and her family covers up the scandal by raising the baby as a new sibling. That would mean that as long as Adele’s “older sister” never spilled the beans, nobody in their family at this point knows that they’re related to Meryl. If Nick ever decides to do one of those ancestry DNA tests, things are going to get interesting. * * * * *

He certainly didn’t find it very compelling. Family? All the family he will ever need is sleeping soundly down the hallway, tiny arms wrapped tight around a stuffed plush Babar.

I wanted Nick to have a stuffed animal that was sort of his parallel to Mr. Lion. Robin is drinking with Mr. Lion in the beginning of Crowd when he’s upset about losing Connor to college, and Mr. Lion appears again when Glenn comes in to talk to Nick and Connor after Robin’s accident.

“I… I guess I don’t know.” Nick looks down, avoiding eye contact by staring into the darkness under Connor’s bed. Mr Lion is under there in a clear plastic box, along with some other stuffed animals. Even when Nick first met Connor, the stuffed animals were already banished underneath the bed instead of on top of it. But over the years, Connor’s never thrown them away.

Mr. Lion is one of the various ways we played with the theme that Connor is, as Nick puts it, “somewhere between a kid and an adult.” Connor is a very confident and clever guy, but you don't magically get a giant box of maturity and life experience on your 18th birthday. At various points, he asks both Nick (at the campus concert) and Glenn (after Robin’s accident) to try to understand that he's still growing and figuring stuff out. Nick has definitely been deprived of some chances to be a kid, but in some ways Connor has as well. He started hanging out with Glenn after Penny and Robin split up, and although he and Nick obviously hit it off, Connor was closer to Glenn for a while. In a different universe, that might not have turned out as well - I mean, tell me you wouldn't side-eye that arrangement in real life. I sure would. Robin just sort of flings his hands up at the role Connor plays for the Close boys, but I strongly suspect that shit would not have flown on Penny’s watch.

It’s funny - he thought Connor was so grown-up when they met, but the guy was only 16 when the Wrights moved in next door. He wasn’t much older by the time he was over at the Close place almost every day, helping Nick with homework or cleaning questionable leftovers out of the fridge. It didn’t strike Nick as weird at the time, It was just another thing about his life that wasn’t like anybody else’s. He never questioned what was in it for Connor. Back then, Nick didn’t even realize how lonely he himself was - he wouldn't have figured out why a kid whose parents had just gotten divorced might want to come over to the chaotic Close apartment to get away from the quiet in his own home.

Everybody was doing their best, and everything worked out for the best, but Connor over the course of the stories is sorting out the balance that works for him in terms of responsibility and playfulness. Fortunately, now that he has less responsibility for Nick, he can enjoy Nick more as a friend and brother. In Name, Robin and Glenn both sort of assume Connor will act as a babysitter to Nick while they go off on their first date; by Crowd, Connor is hanging out playing Smash with Nick and Grant as the gents get ready for their dinner date, but he's there socially, as a peer. Him being goofier and more immature also frees up Nick to do the same, since if Connor is cool and Connor is being playful, then "it's not a little kid thing, it's a bro thing" They both get to be kids now in a way that they weren't before, and I love that for them. Anyway, the point of Mr. Lion and why I wanted to give Nick a stuffed animal as well was to draw the parallel between the sons more directly and to anchor the stuffed animal component. So far there hadn't been any moment in which an actual kid was holding an actual stuffed animal.

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I… uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

[kane-and-griffin]

Hey! So I know that you're the most famous person of the kabby fandom (and I love you btw) so there's something I need to tell you. I've seen a lot of people from the kabby fandom (which I am a part of it) getting mad whenever someone on twitter doesn't like Kane or Abby, saying that it's because they are ageist which I think is really annoying (like they start going off on them almost every time ) 1/2

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and if they don’t like a character it’s not necessarily bc they’re ageist. I think that this is the reason a lot of people don’t like us so (if you agree with me ofc) could you maybe pass the word? I love you btw you’re an amazing person and your ff are the best 😘 2/2             

Okay.  So.  

There’s a lot to unpack here.

I have a lot of thoughts, some of which may notbe the thoughts you were hoping that I would have.  I do want to thank you for your very sweet words, but I also want to address a few things about this askI find extremely frustrating, not with the intent of making you feel bad butbecause I think there are some big conversations here worth having in a broadercontext.

First and foremost, and this is something most ofyou have heard me reiterate many times, I am a strong advocate of peopleaddressing their problems with each other directly.  If you saw someone on Twitter accuse someoneof being ageist and you disagree, that’s fair to say!  Social media is a free and open exchange ofideas.  Also, if you’re a member of theKabby fandom, and you witness another member of the Kabby fandom engaging inbad internet behavior, call them out!  It’salways better for communities to go collect their own people when they crossthe line rather than expecting others to do it. If your fellow fan tweets something mean, call it out.  We all need to do our part to shut that stuffdown and make the fandom a better place. But the right forum for that is to bring it up with the person whoactually said or did the thing you’re upset about, and not to bring it to acompletely unrelated party.

Which brings me to my second point: I’m extremelyuncomfortable being addressed as though I speak for the entirety of the Kabbyfandom.  I don’t.  No one person does.  Fandoms are communities made of individualpeople who have shared interests, but there’s no hierarchy. I don’t want to bethe Bad Fandom Behavior Police. This is especially frustrating when I getasks where one member of the fandom comes to Kabby Mom about something anothermember of the fandom did … especially when it’s something I wasn’t part ofand didn’t witness.  

And that, my dear Anon, is the big problem that I’mhaving with this request.  I don’t haveany idea what incident you’re referring to, what was said, by whom, to whom, orwhat the context was.  You’re asking meto agree with you that somebody was out of line, and that, quote, “that’s whypeople don’t like us.”  But I can’t grantthat premise without knowing what you’re talking about.  

(Also, by the way, I would urge you to let go ofspending too much time caring about whether other fandoms like us.  I can assure you, most of them honestly probablyaren’t thinking about us that much.)  

If I understand the situation correctly, and ifwe’re referring to a real incident and not a hypothetical, you’re saying that PersonA tweeted something negative about Kabby and Person B said “that’s ageist.”  You, Anon, believe that Person A was not being ageist, that Person B overreacted,and that B is the one whose behavior is the problem.  And that’s certainly one possibility.  But the other possibility is that maybePerson A was being ageist but neither Person A nor you have recognizedit.

And I cannot make that determination for you,because you haven’t told me anything concrete, and I wasn’t there.

I am also a thirty-six-year-old woman in a fandomfull of teenagers and if you are not thirty-six then it is entirely possiblethat you and I are seeing the concept of ageism from two very different andincompatible points of view in the first place.

That being said, if you want my opinion, here is my opinion.

First, there really is no excuse for being a jerk onthe internet, no matter what you disagree about.  There will always be people who love thingsyou hate and hate things you love and ship things you find incomprehensible andreject headcanons you treat as gospel, because we all fandom in our ownways.  So if you’re asking me, shouldKabby shippers get a pass on being jerks to non-Kabby shippers just because I,personally, ship Kabby, my answer to that is, “of course not, that is insane.”  Disagreement and discussion are always okay;Twitter is a public forum, and if someone voices an opinion, you get to haveyour own opinion about it.  But being ajerk is never okay.  

In general, I am a strong proponent of stayingin your lane. I’m a pretty ruthless curator of my Twitter and Tumblr feeds, soI don’t follow anyone who talks shit about Kane or Abby (I have a one-strikeblock policy with this), and I recommend this approach to everyone.  Make your social media feed your happy place.

Now, there are lots of people in the fandom who don’tlike, or simply don’t care for, Kane and/or Abby.  There are probably plenty of reasons forthis, and not, not every single one of these reasons is inherently ageist. HOWEVER!The fact that you did not see the comment in question as being ageist does not actually mean it was not ageistor that the person who called them out was wrong for doing so.  

Ageism is hardwired into the very fabric of oursociety – like misogny and heterosexism and racism – and just like with thoseother -isms, most of the time when we serenely think that we are guiltless ofit, we are lying to ourselves. And that goes for internalized prejudices,too.  This stuff is ingrained in us from birth. In general, the sameway I am inherently suspicious of white people saying “I AM ZERO PERCENTRACIST” and men saying “I AM THE MOST FEMINIST MAN TO EVER MAN”, I tend to takewith a grain of salt the words of people much younger than me talking about ageism in this fandom because I actually see it a lot.

And fam, we need to talk about the differencebetween fandom discourse about Abby and fandom discourse about Kane.

Now, your mileage may vary, but I will say thatin my personal experience, when I stumble upon someone who does like Abby but doesn’t likeKane, I agree that it frequently has its roots in reasons which are notinherently, automatically ageist.  Ittends to be rooted rather clearly in plot. More often than not, they’re still tripping up over something he did in aprevious season that they can’t get past. (We should probably save the conversation about our fandom’s selectiveforgiveness problem for another time.)  Theycan’t get past the Culling, or arresting/shocklashing/attempting to float Abby,or being too hard on Bellamy, or losing the election to Pike by choosing toally with the Grounders, or floating Aurora or Jake, or just in general being amega-dick in the pilot.  And that’sfine!  I mean I feel like you’re missingout by giving his four-season character development arc short shrift andignoring the way all the terrible things he’s done in the past shaped him intoa better person once he confronted them, but whatever!  The point is that, you’re right, thatreasoning is not, in and of itself, inherently ageist.  That’s not to say that there aren’t any fanswho straight-up just don’t like him because they think old guys are boring, forthe most part, when I see people dislike Kane, it’s a reaction to something that he did.

But we actually do need to talk about ageism andAbby in this fandom.  Because it is a big fucking problem. 

The problem with ageism and Abby is that moreoften than not, from what I’ve seen, when people dislike Abby, it’s a reactionto who and what she is.  It is absolutely impossible to separate itfrom internalized misogyny and the way older women are systematically devaluedby our culture in ways that sometimes we can’t even see as ageist, because they’rejust hardwired into us. 

Sure, every once in awhile you get an easy one,and someone whines on Twitter about “gross old person sex,” and then you canpoint to it very clearly, and nobody will dispute that we’re talking aboutageism here.  But it’s often so muchmurkier than that.  Ageism can look likea lot of different things, many of which you’ll believe are completelyunrelated.

Ageism can look like fans who show up in thecomments of the writers’ room Twitter and Instagram when they post pictures ofthe adults to say “nobody cares about them, post [whoever I personally stan themost] instead.”

Ageism can look like gifset after gifset featuring “leading ladies of The 100″ where they include Fox and Maya and Charlotte, but not Abby (who has second billing in the cast after Clarke).

Ageism can look like a blanket refusal, under inany situation where Clarke and Abby are at odds, to grant that Abby might havea point, even when the narrative is clearlytelling us that Clarke is the character at fault. The tendency within thisfandom for young girls who closely identify with Clarke to graft their own momfrustrations onto Abby is virtually never-ending, and it can be hard to sift throughthe the complex intersection of ageism and misogyny that makes it impossiblefor them not to see mothers as human beings who are interesting, who are wise,who are right, who know things their children do not, who are sexual, who areallowed to make mistakes, who deserve screen time and plot agency, who are justas vital to the story as the teenagers.

Ageism can look like giving Clarke sole creditfor establishing peace with the Grounders through Lexa, when in fact it wasKane who made the first contact with her and got her to offer the treaty in thefirst place, and it was Abby turning Lincoln from a Reaper back into himselfagain that cemented the alliance.

Ageism can look like shutting down Kabby shippersgleefully enjoying headcanons about bunker baby theory because Abby is “too oldto have a baby” – a misconception that has permeated so deeply into our culturethat we have all internalized the belief that no woman is supposed to have ababy over the age of 35 as though it is inarguable scientific fact, even thoughit may interest you to know thatis a myth.  (“What? How did I notknow that that was a myth?” BECAUSE OUR ENTIRE SOCIETY IS AGEIST TOWARDS WOMENAND THE STUDY THAT GAVE US 35 AS THE MAGIC STOP NUMBER IS FROM LIKE THE 1700’S,THAT’S HOW FEW FUCKS THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY GIVES ABOUT UP-TO-DATE RESEARCH ON THEHEALTH OF OLDER WOMEN)

Ageism can look like a fan who ships all thenon-canon ships … except Doctor Mechanic, because it’s “gross” and “Abby isbasically her mom.”  The inherentdesexualization of age-difference relationships is often rooted in ageism.  You don’t have to ship it!  But if you insist that no one should ship it, then there may be some ageism in the rootsof your ship-shaming.

My point here, dear Anon, is that if you arelooking for someone to tell you, “you’re right, Kabby shippers overreact aboutageism in this fandom,” you are barking up the wrong tree, because from where Istand, as a woman far closer to Abby’s age than Clarke’s, I’m going to venturethat we don’t talk about ageism enough.  And like many -isms in our society, if itdoesn’t appear to you to be that big a problem, that may be because it doesn’tapply to you.  (Yet.)

Now, to be clear – before someone sends me anangry rebuttal to this – not in a million years am I saying that it makes you inherently ageist if you don’t shipKabby.  Just like it doesn’t make you inherentlyhomophobic if you don’t like Lexa or inherently racist if you don’t like Bellamy or inherentlymisogynist if you don’t like Clarke.  Butall squares are rectangles, even if not all rectangles are squares.  By which I mean that, contained within thegroup of people who don’t ship Kabby, there is a lot of ageism, just as,contained within the group of people who hate Bellamy, there’s a lot ofproblematic racial shit, and it means we need to have a clearer understandingof where those lines are so that we recognize the ugly stuff when it shows upon our timeline and call it out when we see it.