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castielhoney · 2 years

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ok so here's a bunch of poetry/prose cut up and stitched back together for a class project, themed on stanford-era dean. (none of these are mine, but i don't have credits for all of them. let me know if it's yours and i'll credit you!) @lovelikesomethingholy @angelsdean @magdaclaire @davyperez

So. So I’m a kid and the furthest I’ve gone is to a store in the city an hour away, small hands tucked tight into Momma’s sundress. I’m a kid and the world is as big as a two-story house and a four-door car and that’s good because that’s all I need.

I’m 4 and my mother is telling me that angels are watching over me. It isn’t long after the words leave her lips, that she dies in a house fire.

And then maybe I’m not a kid anymore and the furthest I’ve had to run is now barefoot across my front lawn carrying my brother in my too-small arms. My house-not-a-home-anymore is blazing behind me. I am not a kid and the world is as small as my hands, as small as a baby only six months old.

I know the smell of motel mold more intimately than I know the smell of my father’s cologne. He’s never been much for affection. The pitfalls of his fingertips litter the hand, bruises painted black, purple, yellow, green.

My father is a man who bastardizes himself enough that what remains is neither a man nor a father, a dog starved for scraps.

So it goes.

I’m 10, and I’m making mac and cheese again, keeping it interesting for my baby brother. He keeps looking up at me like I’m something important.

First thing I remember most days, it seems like, is flames.

Tongues of fire, licking me up, swallowing big and greedy,

Like my momma always taught me not to be.

Guess it don’t matter anyhow.

Momma’s the same memory now, blond hair trailing into that blazing gold.

Sometimes I wonder if the fire started inside her, somehow,

If she was always burning up.

Even when she held me;

Even when she tucked me into that bed.

Sometimes I wonder if she passed that fire to me,

Pressed it quick into my arms, for me to hold,

Same way Dad did with Sammy.

Take it and burn;

Take him and run.

I did.

Gathered everything into my greedy arms and held tight.

Guess I’ve always been holding too tight,

Burning grasp waiting for it all to go up in smoke.

Seizing the flickering lights like if I

Could just keep it from slipping away this time–

But what else can you do when home feels like a family on fire?

So it goes.

The thing about me is that I will bite the hand that feeds. What has it ever done for me that I can’t do for myself? Fed food into my hungry mouth, run its fingers along my wolf’s teeth, and for what? Soft hands cut the flesh from my baby-soft skin years ago, fed it back to me slowly, reminded me of my youth the entire time they were making a weapon of me.

So it goes. I am a soldier, a machine, an instrument as sharp as the blade in my hand and I haven’t been a kid since four years old.

A gun in the hands of a child is still a gun.

A child made into a weapon is still a child.

The size of the world has grown six feet, but hey, my hands have grown too and I can carry it.

So it goes.

Daddy’s jacket, old,

Cracked at the joints in its gasoline-n-soot smell,

safety in the leaving,

safety in the stealing and keeping,

blanketing your lonely covetous soul in

the spirit of a man you can emulate,

choke up on

and hyperventilate.

I have nothing to say to you

Because if I did,

I could tell a thousand tales

Broken dreams

And broken promises

I could tell tales of too-big shoes,

Too-big leather jackets.

Of lonely nights,

A gapping space

That I had no business filling.

But I have nothing to say to you

because I don’t want to tell those tales.

I don’t want to believe

That those shoes were too big,

That those jackets were too large,

That those rationed goods,

Were your fault.

Because that too–big jacket is armor

Even if it digs into my side

Even if it’s a weight that makes me almost cry

That filling those too-big shoes

With skipped meals

And carefully-played tricks

That those cuts

Were from a different kind of monster.

I’d rather have nothing to say.

So it goes.

I worked 3 jobs through 4 years of high school to save for Sammy to go to school, and though it’s paying off, I am 22 and I’m saying goodbye to the only easy love I’ve ever known.

I’m 26 and I’ve seen what hate does to good people; I am only 26, and I don’t think I deserve to be saved.

I’m a man on the run, and isn’t that fitting? I’ve been running for my whole life, I’m gonna run for the rest of my life. Running from the fire, running towards someone else’s revenge story, running wheels, running ragged.

The size of the world is a U.S. interstate highway map and a four-door car and even if it’s not all I need, it’s all I get. So I take the motels that won’t burn down behind me, and the shelters that have no lawns to run across, and it doesn’t matter how much further I go.

I will never go far enough to find my way back home, but I will try, and I will try, and I will try.

And so it goes.

The road opens up and swallows me down into the dark pit of a hot night. No one around, I feel unreal, unraveling. My body sits like a sack behind the wheel, and I’m under no one’s eyes, no one’s hands. Nothing to pin me down and hold me in place.

I stop when I need a fill-me-up, when running on empty’s not enough, when I need to crawl into someone else to remember my body – blunt and bone and blood, bruising like a peach in the sun.

I shout, writhing. And anonymous fingers pry me open, mouth full, hair pull. And I am fed and filled and my Baby rumbles, gas paid in exchange.

And the road rolls out, a long tongue licking, eager to tease me down and forget my body. And I slide back into the nothing space where there is no body and blood, only ghost, and it ain’t holy.

There’s a certain sort of sound;

Comes along with the scrabbling of small, bare hands

On gas station restaurant formica.

Sounds kinda yellow and warm around the edges.

Something liquidy in my chest,

Puffed proud ‘cause I’ve just made Sammy smile

Like he hasn’t in ages,

And seven-year-olds have that kinda face.

Faces meant to be smiling as often as

Their older brother can manage to make them.

Grin cracking and peeling open like the orange on the tabletop.

He asks—

All wild in that childish delight,

That fits so keenly on his round apple-cheeks—

How I even managed to get the tickets,

I decide then, not to tell him what those tickets

Will cost me in about two-weeks time,

When dad’s still not back.

‘Cause seven-year-olds get real hungry sometimes

And real guilty too

And it’s better not to worry him about it when he’s smiling like this.

I guess the thing they don’t really tell you–

Between all the Fridays and blood and a-hundred-miles-to-empty–

Is that there’s nothin’ lonelier than the Road.

No one ever told me.

No one ever told me what happens when your daddy leaves,

And your baby brother leaves,

And you’re leavin’ too.

It’s easy to want things, most of the time. Easy to get hungry and stay hungry, belly rumbling like that chest-deep, lung-aching laughter, the kind you let out when you’re feeling the most lonely you’ve ever been.

Like a pillow propped up under your neck, and you know you’re gonna get a crick, and it’ll piss you off for a few days after.

But just like that pillow, you’ll fluff up all over again, it’s just comfy enough that you think to yourself,

Maybe it’s worth it this time.

Maybe when I’m hungry and I eat the food I know is gonna turn my stomach, but won’t make me full, maybe it won’t bother me as much this time.

Maybe when I get hungry and don’t let myself eat for a full two days

(gotta get to California, gotta buy the gas), maybe the hunger will mellow out until my body remembers it don’t need it.

I try to sleep without a pillow now.

I try to taste the feast in a two a.m. gas-station coffee.

My neck ain’t sore when I check left and flip the turn signal on. My stomach ain’t sore either; just like me, it knows when to shut the hell up about wanting things.

A man is a backbone

An island alone

Forged in fire and brimstone

His patience thin as ozone

Rage a garden, overgrown

All men are sons of Cain

Hardened flesh stitched together with echoes of pain

Carry themselves numb as novocaine

To be a man,

You must wear down the boy, become estranged with childlike joy

No time for toys and cowboys

A man is a warrior of Troy.

Kept thinking,

On our way out of that

Two-lane town,

Head pressed all tired against

The cold glass of the window where I,

reflected back half-formed,

Like maybe I was just as real

As that ghost my daddy was chasin’ after.

Kept thinking

About that oak standing,

Uncertain guardian,

In the courtyard of some

No-name school,

That won’t remember me come next semester,

Though I fit right in, with no name.

There had been a storm,

Like there often is, in these sorta towns;

Ripped up chunks of the very asphalt

We traveled in on, and tossed them bodily

All over the place.

But that tree,

That big, aching thing

That watched me during recesses

And stood, solemn, when I beat my knuckles bloody

Against a boy older ‘n me

For daring to call my dead momma ugly.

That tree, that did not judge me,

For all my bones and blood and history,

Was no paved road, and did not break

Under the onslaught of the storm.

And I,

Forehead cool with the damp condensation

Of that ghost-mirror window,

Father beside me and

Brother behind me and

Baby all around and everywhere about me,

Kept thinking, as we drove outta those town’s far limits.

Spinning wheels don’t grow roots

And neither does the spinning barrel of a loaded pistol,

And neither does a house burned down

And neither does

A nameless boy who sits shotgun,

Father beside him chasing a ghost.

I kept thinking,

Leaving that town and

Leaving that courtyard oak.

I’ve never seen roots like that before.

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byronictrash · 3 years

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so I was thinking about the whole hbo supernatural thing and all I could think was how it would fit in my major spn interpretation which is TRANSFEM SAM WINCHESTER!!!!

• changed her name to samantha for pure praticity

• is a lesbian, so all the romantic part is pretty similar to the canon, monsterfucking and all

• in which dean got a little confused about the distinction of gender ≠ sexuality at first like “wait but why did you become a girl if you like girls?” (he doesn’t know a lot of queer people, give him some time)

• AND SPEAKING OF DEAN! the biggest ally of all times. at first he doesn’t understand lots of stuff that seems obvious to sam (“why are you putting on a suit?” “dean we’re going to a small town, the case will be way harder if everyone is staring at me”), asks indiscrety questions (“can i ask you something?” “it depends” “you wanna chop your dick off?” “NO YOU CANT ASK IT”) but over time he starts to get it more naturally

• despite his numerous hook-ups, dean has never spent so much time in his life in a company of a woman so even the smallest things are extraterrestrial to him (“hey whats that bowl in the microwave?” “depilatory wax” “OH CMON SAMMY I WAS GOING TO HEAT UP MY DINNER THERE”)

• of course, there would be a scene where they met some hunter friend of john who says shit about sam, misgender her etc and dean goes FERAL, fist fighting with the guy and stuff. later sam yells at dean, saying she doesn't need dean to protect her and the argument would escalate to all the times that dean treated her in a condescending way, dean yelling back that dad said it was his job to take care of her and sam yelling even louder that dad would probably dead by now (in this moment all the lamps in their room (and in the street) simply explode, but they ignore. it was probably some short circuit…. right?)

• ok lets talk about john. still the same asshole, still gave a gun to kid who was afraid of the boogeyman, still tried to summon azazel when his son was in comma in 02X01 BUT now he also has a whole series of microaggressions with sam. she’s not stupid, she know the dad she has so doesn’t come out until she’s in stanford, SO john finds out sam is trans in 01X16 when john see sam after two years wearing a skirt and holding a .45 gun. he looks at her up and down and doesn’t say anything however, suddenly stops calling sam sam and starts calling her strictly samuel.

• it got worse after s1 season finale with the whole azazel possessed john > sam had the opportunity of killing azazel/her dad > couldn’t do it > azazel escaped > the winchesters get hit by a truck. when sam questions her father about being worried about the colt while his own son is dying, john explodes with her “you know samuel this is all your fault, once again you couldn’t just man up and pull the fucking trigger, kill the thing, you had to be same old sissy and chicken off, if your brother dies its his blood in your hands”

• aaaaaanyway, lets go back to our girl :D

• her style is kinda a mess. makeup done in a hurry, most of her clothes are mid skirts, hoodies and long dresses but now and then she spends a week wearing baggy jeans and band t-shirts, like dean’s, and no makeup at all. when he asks her “where is the whole angry teen outfit?” sam would simply respond its “because of the praticity, it’s tough to fight with a vampire in a dress lol” dean knows its because sometimes sam’s internalized transphobia ft repression gets loud

• her music taste is mostly grunge, punk and some alt bands she discover in stanford but dean call all of it emo “oh fuck off sammy, i let you drive once and you already put this emo shit” “dean this is literally nirvana, you cant call everything made after the 80’s emo”

• when she came out to bobby his reaction was literally “so now you’re a girl?” “uh… yeah” “gonna change your name or something?” “now is samantha but sam is still fine” “okay, now look this sigil... (and went back to the lore they were searching)”

• sam’s catholicism being more portrained on screen and how the dilemma of being a Christian and queer filled sam with religious guilty

• her paranormal powers also showed up sooner and since the beginning she knew something was wrong. her throat felt sore every time she recited the rituale romanus and holy water made her skin itchy. the older she got, the harder those “symptoms” became and with her denial, desire to be normal combined with religious guilt, it was easier to just convince herself that all this was just god punishing her for living in sin.

• surprisingly, all the demons and angels (and most of the monsters) even being assholes treats sam with the right pronouns

• which make sam and cas fist encounter even more interesting because cas literally turns to dean and go “is this your sister, samantha winchester?” “yeah” “ABOMINATION”’

• samruby second (cause the real first was ruby killing the seven deadly sins and stuff) encounter on the other side was a little more like "why are you following me?” “because youre tall and tall women are sexy as fuck” (then sam’s brain was short circuited for a sec because her height make usually makes her dysphoric)

• between s3-s4, dean still in hell, there would be a scene of one of the first times that sam drank blood to exorcise a demon with her mind. so here they are, demon tied in a chair and trapped in a trap, sam with blood all over her chin and ruby looking at her all heart eyes. Sam tries to do the exorcism but it doesnt work so ruby says sam needs more blood. Sam responds that shes nauseous and if takes any more shes gonna puke (cause you know voluntary vampirism came too natural in canon and that disturbs me) so the demon, who's wearing a cheerleader as a vessel, laughs and says "you know sammy, for real women blood tends to be a natural thing". ruby kills her on the spot.

• speaking of the catholicism (and the blood drinking) again, sam prays every single time before/after drinking demon blood, ruby mocks her for it but she doesnt care. its a weird feeling because even thinking that what shes doing is right, that she needs to get strong to kill lilith, it still feels bad, unholy in some sense.

• of course lucifer tempted her in s5 not only appearing as jess but also saying things like "why samantha, after all, are you willing to sacrifice yourself for a society that treats you like scum, that looks at you like a freak?"

• no need to say that in 05x04 "The End" episode when dean faces lucifer using sam as his vessel, she's wearing an outfit way cooler than that abbey-road-john-lennon-white-suit (to know what i mean search amanda seyfried 2018 met gala look THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!!!!)

• even after being clean of blood drinking, sam still has some of her paranormal powers. she can't do exorcises with her mind anymore but she can move small objects with telekinesis (she doesn't do it in front of dean cause she knows it would scares the fuck out of him)

i also had a list of some episodes rewritten in this au but this list is already long, guess i'll post later

#daaaaaaamn i have so many feelings about this #hbo supernatural #trans sam winchester #supernatural #samruby #transfem sam #lesbian sam winchester #kripke era #yeah im projecting #headcanon #mine

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

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We’re All We Got

Request: I would like a Dean x Reader where the reader is their little sister, and Dean has been with her since she was a little girl, and so he is always very protective, and one day she almost dies and he despairs a lot, but everything is fine.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! :)

Word Count: 1820

❅ ❅ ❅

-flashback to 13yr old Dean-

“Shh, Y/N. It’s going to be ok. You’re fine, kiddo.” Dean whispered as he laid beside her on the motel bed, carding his fingers through her hair.

Y/N, was was running a high fever and it worried Dean and Sam to no end.

“De, my head hurts.” She whimpered, curling up into him.

“I know, kid. I’ll go to the store and get you some medicines ok?”

“No!” Cried Y/N clinging to him tighter. “Don’t go, please”

“Y/N we don’t have anything to make it better. I need to go get some stuff for you. Or it could get worse.” Said Dean trying to pry her hands off him, an action that immediately made her cry.

“D-don’t go!”

“No no please calm down! I’m right her ok? I’ll stay. I won’t go.” He soother her, panicking at her reaction. He had always had a special bond with the 7yr old, and he was extremely protective of her. Sam too, but Y/N was the youngest and was more prone to getting hurt than his brother.

Sam climbed in on the other side of the bed next to Y/N, “Y/N I’ll be right here with you. Dean won’t be long.” He tried convincing her.

“No! I only want De!”

“I’m right here, kid. Ain’t going anywhere.” Said Dean cuddling her more, making sure she was comfortable. He stayed with her till she feel asleep before he could go buy the stuff.

-Flashback end-

Dean was clutching onto Y/N’s hand in the hospital. She was severely hurt by a werewolf and had been quite close to death.

“I’m right here, kid.” He whispered to her unconscious form.

It pained him to see his baby sister like that. Especially when it was his fault. Y/N was no hunter. Her expertise lied in research. However, she did know how to fight almost as well as her brother but chose not to. This one particular hunt, he and Sam were outnumbered and needed an extra hand. So they had no choice but to take Y/N with them. Everything was going according to plan and the three of them fought like a well oiled machine. Unfortunately, right at the end when only one werewolf was remaining, the bastard got Y/N and hurt her badly before getting shot by Sam.

The car ride to the hospital was one of the worst moments of his life. He even made Sam drive them, opting to sit at the back making sure their little sister didn’t bleed to death. Once everything was taken care of, he had refused to leave her side and insisted on Sam getting the rest he needed.

And hour later Sam had arrived with two cups of coffee, startling Dean when he placed an hand on his shoulder.

“Dean, she’s alive. She’s going to wake up. The doctor said so himself.” Sam was very worried about both his siblings. One nearly died and the other is slowly running himself to an early grave.

“I’m fine, Sammy.” Dean mumbled.

“At least have some coffee.” Sam offered him the cup.

Dean took it absentmindedly and placed the thing on the table next to him, making Sam sigh. He barely noticed Sam take a seat beside him rubbing Y/N’s leg.

-flashback to 18 yr old Dean-

Y/N had been hanging out with a couple of her school friends when suddenly she barged into the motel room angry as hell and making a beeline to the bathroom. She slammed the door and locked it, startling her brothers. Dean shared a worried look with Sam and walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing is wrong! Go away!” She yelled, her voiced muffled by the door.

“I know something’s wrong, N/N! Don’t lie to me.”

“I said, GO. AWAY!”

“Did someone hurt you? You know I’ll beat the shit out of them!”

“Y/N, we just want to help.” Said Sam joining Dean.

“I just need 5 minutes ok?” Her voice broke at the end.

“You got 5 minutes, and then I’m coming in.” Said Dean, walking to the bed and sitting on the corner. He was still on alert, waiting for her to come out.

It had become little over 5 mins and just when Dean was about to pick the lock, the door opened a crack and Y/N’s tear stricken face came into view.

“De…” Her small voice came through.

“Y/N, what’s going on. Why are you crying?”

“I… I’m bleeding.” She whispered.

Both Dean and Sam were freaking out.

“What?!” They chorused.

“Y/N! Where? What was it? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” Dean was getting angry and trying to open the door more to get a look at her.

“Guys! Not like that! Nothing hurt me!” Her face was red with embarrassment.

They stopped for a second, “What do you mean, N/N?” Asked Sam.

That’s when it hit Dean. She got her first period. He looked at her with wide eyes.

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“What��s happening, guys?” A confused Sam asked.

“Sammy, just stay here ok? Keep an eye on her. Both of you just stay here. I’ll be back in 20mins.” With that he rushed out to get her what was needed.

An hour later Y/N was curled up on the bed under the blankets with embarrassment and a hot pack. While Dean was sitting beside her trying to tell her there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“It’s a normal thing, N/N. It’s happens to every girl.”

“Not in public.” She mumbled.

“Not true, when I was your age, a classmate of mine started to.. you know.. in class. She was very embarrassed too and had her mom come get her. But eventually she forgot about it and so did everyone else.”

He was doing his best to assure her that she was fine, but what came out of her mouth next broke his heart.

“She had a mom to tell her about it. I don’t.”

“N/N…”

She was sniffling under the blankets, trying not to cry. He didn’t know what to say to comfort her.

“If mom were here, she’d be so proud of the way you’re handling it, kid. You’re a champ. I know I ain’t mom, but I’m here for you ok? I’ll always be here for you and Sammy.” He looked at Sam who was trying his best to help as much as he could.

“Thank you, De.” Y/N whispered. “You’re not mom, but you’re kinda cool.”

He ruffled her hair, making her laugh. “I’m more than cool, shortie!”

-flashback end-

Dean chuckled at that memory, kissing the back of her hand. He remembered how he had to explain to the shopkeeper what he was looking for. And he had to help Y/N figure out how to use it too because no one had taught her. They were both an embarrassed mess, but it all worked out in the end. It was hard for the three of them to not have any parental guidance. With a dead mother and an absent father, it fell on Dean’s shoulders to make sure Sam and Y/N were taken care of.

“I swear to god when you wake up I’m gonna kick you ass, kid.” He said softly. “You’re not making it easy on me. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed. You’ve always been a trouble maker, you know? Sammy was easy compared to you and that’s saying a lot.” He chuckled.

“Hey! You’re one to talk.” Quipped Sam, smiling a little.

“Shush, Sam. It’s rude to interrupt.” He smirked at him. “Anyway, I’m just warning you. You enjoy the peace now. Caz when you open those eyes, I’m going to give you shit, Y/N.”

“Me too. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you, squirt.” Said Sam.

A few seconds later, Dean felt his hand get squeezed. A small groan came from Y/N.

“Y/N!” They called at the same time and sprung into action in a frenzy and called the nurse.

The doctor looked her up and gave her the clear to leave after 48 hours. He also gave them instructions on her diet and gave strict orders on bed rest until the wound healed a little more. When he left a silence set in the room until Y/N broke it.

“So you two think you could give me shit and get away with it?” She smirked tiredly at them.

“You don’t have a say in that, N/N. You nearly died! What were you thinking?!” Said Sam slightly angry.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. But I did what had to be done. It was unavoidable.” She smiled apologetically

“It was not unavoidable, Y/N! We could’ve handled it without you getting in its way!”

“Sam… it would’ve mauled you if I hadn’t. I couldn’t let my favourite Sasquatch get hurt now, can I?”

“Y/N I could’ve-“

“Sam, stop. I’m fine! I’m alive and kicking. So please let it go?” She gave him her puppy dog eyes which she learnt from him.

“Should not have taught you that.” He mumbled grumpily, making her giggle and wince.

Dean through it all was quiet. He was still trying to process everything.

“De…” Called Y/N.

He looked at her with tears in his eyes. He didn’t let them fall however.

“No. Don’t you dare say you’re fine caz you stopped breathing, Y/N!” He snapped at her.

She was taken aback.

“I never should’ve asked you to help us! This could’ve been avoided if I wasn’t such a dumbass.” He rubbed his face. “But at the same time, you saved Sammy. I can’t… I don’t know how to process this.”

“Dean. What was supposed to happen, happened. We’re Winchesters, we’re meant to get hurt, die and rise up again. It’s the way it has been.” Y/N said calmly.

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No it doesn’t” She chuckled lightly. “But it does mean that you of all people need to take a break once in a while and let the young people do the protecting.”

Dean chuckled at that, “You calling me old, kid?”

“Damn right.” She smirked at him making Sam snort.

“She’s right, Dean. So go take a shower and eat something before your old man body kills you dead.” Sam grinned at him.

“You’re not so young yourself, Sammy” He gave him a bitch face.

“Still younger.” He grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam and looked at Y/N with a soft smile. He kissed her forehead and whispered, “Don’t run off. I’ll be back in no time.”

“I’ll try not to.” She smiled at him, squeezing his hand before he reluctantly left to fix himself.

❅ ❅ ❅

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@hobby27 @akshi8278 @svmwinchesterr

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #spn #spn fic #spn x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sister!winchester #reader insert #female reader #angst #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader

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ao3gingerswag · 3 years

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Grown up Sam (quieter, calmer, working a good job with lots of paperwork eg accounting or law - possibly still living at the inn but def frequently there, and still handy in a fight) realising he was a right git to Cas initially and panicking over what his life could have been deciding to apologise and make amends. Cue awkward speeches, making lots of tea, soup, and DIY, just for Cas to be very confused because for him it was never Sam fault and he's been grand for a decade.

ok 1 just to clarify sam is absolutely living in the inn 100% forever. this is MY asexual found family fantasy that doesn't subscribe to modern american housing norms and i do what i want!!!! sorry that came off weirdly aggressive i know u weren't arguing with that dtxgcfhvjbkn.

anyway!! i think cas and sam bond a LOT as time goes on <33 honestly i think this happens way earlier than being grown up. i think he slowly slowly comes to trust not only cas more and more but also that his current life isn't going to get ripped away all of a sudden, until without having noticed it happening, he is happy and comfortable and believes he's gonna stay that way ;~; and once that happens and once he NOTICES that, that he trusts cas and his situation, that's when he's like oh holy fuck. i think he's like...13? the first time he has a breakdown about it ;~; i think he trusts cas before that i dont think it takes like 3 full years!!! but i think that's the first time he has the perspective to be like ooooh my suspicion and behavior towards cas was absolutely Not Fair. like up until then he's like ok yeah cas is great and One Of The Good Ones but also i reacted Normally and Rationally when i met him because Everyone In The World Is Evil. When he's like 13 he starts to realize that is not true and he behaved like a lunatic and also he almost KILLED cas and where would he be then where would dean be they would have died in that forest and so would have cas who's a good person and he's like aaaahhbhdgiuuygfyuiuigwkdbckwgfuwgfkuytgfuywevfjhsvcsviwgikwgfyuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaahhhhHHHHH!!! DDDDDD: and cries a lot about it. and apologizes a lot about it to. and cas has to be like sammy its ok ;~; <3 i'm here and ur here and so is dean and it all worked out and it's not ur fault u were Insane and ugh and omg i can totally see sam being like but i tried to KILL you what if I HAD!!!! and vugjbhknjl cas literal and blunt as ever just being like well. then i would be dead. and so would u and dean almost certainly. and sam is like !! D:

but! cas is also very kind and reassuring and is like yes and that would be horrible but guess what? it still wouldnt be your fault. it would be a tragedy but it would still be john and alastair's fault for putting all of us in that situation and traumatizing u to the extent that u were that afraid of me. and and somehow i think that would be the most comforting thing to sam?? more than just being reassured that there's no point in thinking about it because it DIDN'T happen. i think he'd be more settled by the realization that even if everything had gone horribly wrong and they all died, even by his own hand! it would be something closer to a tragic accident borne of negligence on the part of the adults (like a toddler shooting another toddler with a gun that hadn't been locked up) instead of a murder. ;~; like not that i believe older children are totally not responsible for their actions at all, but sam's situation wasn't so much "i am in pain and don't know how to handle it so i am lashing out and taking it out on other people" but "i actively believe my own and my friend's lives are in danger and am reacting with the defensive actions of someone being hunted by a rabid wolf" (not realizing that the rabid wolf is just sweet awkward cas, because he's been so turned around by his upbringing ;~;)

anyway! anyway. I think this happens like. a bunch of times as he grows up. like nervous breakdowns about this, frantic apologies, and he only gets over it very slowly. i think a Really Big Breakdown about it happens when he's 16, when he realizes CAS was 16 during all of this, and holy fuck what was he thinking thinking cas was like a full grown adult and omg he was only SIXTEEN and went through ALL THAT CRAP, in large part because of what sam put him thru!!! and he flips out about that ;~; but!!!! i would like to think that by the time that he's an adult like in his early 20s, he is...mostly at peace with what happened, and what could have happened, and that it isn't his fault. maybe the guilt will never 100% go away, but he can live with it, and he's made his apologies to cas many many times already and had them accepted over and over. and in conclusion cas and sam are besties :))

#ao3gingerswag #prompts #ideas #theyre nerds together!!! they both love dean but dean doesnt care about like. physics.#cas and sam talking about the nature of god the universe and everything #and dean being like ok have fun discovering the nature of reality u 2 im going to bed :) and theyre like ok bye dean :) and then go back to #Discussing

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lisinfleur · 3 years

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I don't think all Bjorn's behaviour is Thorunn fault. She was suffering too, she thought she lost all her beauty and didn't think she was worth of Bjorn's love. I think that Lagertha could have talked with him about it, and taught him how to treat and support his wife their relationship could continue.

But Lagertha did nothing, they even left the little Siggy with Aslaug and as long as I know that she was terrible human being leaving the girl alone, she wasn't her granddaughter, so I ask where was Lagertha the defender of the women at these times?

TONS UNDER THE CUT XD Sorry for it being too long, love!

Ok, let us break your asks into parts cause I see some pretty good material here. First of all, Björn's behavior. Indeed it is not ONLY Þórunn's fault. But a great part is. A person's personality/character is built over a lot of small parts of itself and its relationship with the world around. Our mothers and fathers build a lot of ourselves, but we also learn a lot from people around us, and sometimes it pushes us away from our parents' behavior and even pushes us away from them (I may be inserting a little bit of personal experience here haha). In Björn's case, his relationship to women and character when it comes to being a husband/father comes pretty much from his traumas related to Ragnar and Þórunn respectively. Ragnar destroyed his conceptions of what should be a perfect love story and Þórunn broke his hope/self-confidence that he was able to build a story different from the one he saw his parents building. I think he kinda mirrored himself in Lagertha - the abandoned/betrayed part of the relationship - and then decided to become Ragnar - the "fuck-it-all" part of the relationships he had. But we cannot say he didn't support Þórunn. He was UTTERLY supportive from carrying for her wound to keep their relationship warm, even trying to show her his desire was intact, his love was still there, and her beauty wasn't everything. As much as he had chance upon chance to receive love after Þórunn and I blame exclusively him for not allowing himself to be loved and dive into a true love like Torvi's or Gunnhild's; I blame Þórunn exclusively for not being able to accept her wound wasn't enough reason for her value as a woman/partner for Björn to be reduced. He loved her and he showed her scar meant nothing to him. She was the one who decided to start pushing him towards finding another woman (which ended up with him and Torvi getting involved) and later on, to leave him and little Siggy behind. So, no excuses for Þórunn here, but indeed Ragnar also had a part in this character construction for Björn and I believe even his involvement with Snaefrid and its tragic end also killed the last drop of hope he could have to love and be loved in this lifetime.

Now speaking of Aslaug, I utterly disagree that she was a "terrible human being". She wasn't. Definitely not. She was a human being. And here is the spot that everyone insists on ignoring through the whole fandom. No anger attached, for real, but there are some spots to be brought to light here that no one really uses to care about when speaking about Ragnar's second wife. So, let us bring it out the reasons why I do not agree with your definition of Aslaug: She was a mother of four. The woman was already taking care by herself of four kids, one of them SEVERELY disabled, screaming, and in pain 24/7 a day. As a mother of a possibly autistic child who screams at least 16 of the 24 hours she's with me, believe me: it makes you INSANE! And my daughter isn't even disabled or in pain like Ivar was. I can't stop crying and feeling the worst mother in the world when my Victoria cuts a finger or hurts herself falling during a run - now stop and imagine Aslaug's head thinking about the child she had just put in this world... At that time, they didn't have too much awareness of the men's participation in the children's production so, men were said to seed, women were said to produce the child. You can remember Ivar accusing Freydis of "producing him such a monster" when speaking about little Balðr. Aslaug dealt with the same guilt of producing herself a child with such terrible condition, always in pain, screaming for her help she couldn't offer. And in the middle of this she had Sigurd - who was still a baby around 1 to 2 years old - Hvitserk - who was a dog after his older brother EVERYWHERE - Ubbe, who was becoming a man too soon into her eyes - and Ragnar, who wasn't there practically all the time, leaving the housekeeping, the kingdom keeping, and the child keeping for her alone (cause people use to forget, but Bjorn was going everywhere with his father before assuming Kattegat's reign, so it was left in ASLAUG's hands). Do I have to remember this woman didn't know how to cook when she arrived? Her SERVANTS made the dinner she offered to Ragnar and Lagertha for welcoming her. The woman was a princess without a kingdom when she came, and she never had her father and mother around to tell her what to do or teach her how to be a mother. Believe me, girl, I had my mother to teach me, and even with her around it was HARD AS FUCK and I still learn things every day! Imagine how hard it was for her to do everything I just said she was responsible for... And then comes Þórunn and throws over her a fifth child she cared PERFECTLY about until BJÖRN rejects the child leaving HER with the incumbency to care for a fifth child in the middle of all the things she already had to do...

Whoever can remember, Aslaug had several mental breakdowns during this series, became alcoholic, lost her mind several times, cried her ass out... And who can blame her? She failed little Siggy, indeed, but she was overwhelmed trying to deal with several things at the same time along with the carelessness of her husband that was really not giving a flying fuck to what she was doing but was all up to slap her or speak about her mistakes whenever they would spot up. She failed Sigurd too... But no one can say Ubbe and Hvitserk weren't well raised and she lost her mind but even then, Ivar survived, didn't he? Aslaug wasn't a terrible human being. She was an overwhelmed woman... But can we say the same about Lagertha? As a warrior? Flawless! Amazing woman! But I still question myself about how the fuck did Björn reached adult life! The stories she taught Hali and Asa about Björn and Ragnar and being a warrior and son of who Hali was and her poor attention to the children's safety during a battle caused Hali to die that horrible way - and it WAS her fault! He was on her responsibility and SHE HAD to pay attention to create a safe (and preferentially LOCKED) space for the children to be during the attack, but she was so up to being the flawless shieldmaiden who would save the village for the women who came to ask for her help that she forgot children sometimes are stupid and can do stupid things to follow stupid examples... Hali wanted to be a warrior like his father and grandfather from her stories. She just forgot to say he had to GROW UP before holding a sword or proving himself a son of the great Björn Ironside...

Speaking of being a shitty grandmother, can we talk about little Siggy a little? She was LAGERTHA's granddaughter and RAGNAR's granddaughter. She had NOTHING to do with Aslaug and I didn't see any of them complaining Björn abandoned the child. Ragnar at least slapped his beautiful firstborn's face when Björn fucked up and took pregnant Þórunn with him into battle. But Lagertha? Not a single word before, not a single word during, not a single word after it. Not about little Siggy, not about dear Torvi that Björn abandoned out of nowhere - no. Instead of defending a woman suffering a sudden abandonment like hers, Lagertha was too occupied negotiating the Sammi's princess' pussy for her beloved golden boy. (Sorry about the language, but gods, it made me mad!)

So, after all of this, if someone can be called a despicable human being in this whole situation - unpopular opinion here - it would be Lagertha. And in this, we agree.

Sorry for the long LOONG answer (way too long, I'm so sorry!), and thanks for the opportunity to vent about this haha Feel free to send me answers! I love talking about the series like this! All the love!

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superfanficnatural · 4 years

Text

The Cold Of Heart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: (I really do not want to spoil) You decide to tell Dean how you really feel.

A/N: Ok so I found this and completely forgot about it so I’m just going to post it lol. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I’m not spoiling but angst, negative thoughts. Don’t worry, no triggers or anything like that.

Gif is not mine

Six years. You had been hunting with the Winchesters for the past six years, falling in love with one of them almost instantly. At first, you wanted to make sure that it was real, not just infatuation, so you waited. Expecting it to go away, you were surprised to find out that your love kept running deeper and deeper, finding new reasons every single day to love that goofy green eyed hunter. Once you knew you were in love with him, you waited, praying that he would feel the same. Everyday, you dropped subtle hints, hoping that he would pick up on them or at least show some kind of attraction to you. After all this time, he didn’t say or do anything, so you decided enough was enough, you were going to confess your feelings for him.

Walking into the library, you saw Dean sitting down on one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the table. You smiled and walked up to him, “Hey, Dean. Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“He’s out, said he had to go shopping for something,” he grunted, looking up at you.

You went over and sat down at a chair across the table from him, taking a deep breath, “Hey, I uh, have something to tell you,” you warily admitted.

“What’s up Y/N?”

“I- at first when I- um... I think-” you were a stuttering mess, already having a blush on your face.

“Y/N, take a deep breath for me,” he chuckled, putting his feet down and resting his elbows on his legs, giving you his attention.

You took in another deep breath and exhaled slowly, “For the longest time, I waited,” you started, “I waited for you to give me a sign, anything that showed that you felt the same way,” you started.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t, please, let me say this,” you shakily cut him off.

“Ever since I first met you, I had this undeniable attraction to you. At first I thought to myself, he’s just attractive, it’s all just physical attraction,” you began, “But after a while, getting to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper. The way your eyes shine when you have a genuine smile on your face, the caring and protective side of you for those you love. I couldn’t help but fall for you,” you breathed, a smile threatening to grow on your face.

“You never gave me any kind of indication that you felt the same way even after all of the hints that I dropped, I don’t know if you ever even really saw them but I decided that enough was enough and that I should just flat out tell you,” you took a deep breath, “I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester,” you picked up your gaze and looked at him. He seemed like he was having an internal struggle and his face had lost all color.

The silence was deafening and you didn’t know if you could take it any longer. After a few moments, he steeled his face and responded.

“Y/N, I’m sorry but...”

No no no no please, don’t

“I don’t feel the same way.”

You couldn’t breathe, a lump in your throat closing off your air, your eyes wide and mouth agape. You felt like you were being sucked into a bottomless pit of despair, becoming disoriented you couldn’t feel your arms or legs. You thought that he was just hiding it because he was scared, that he didn’t want to ruin what you guys had. Your heart was broken, and there was nothing that you could do to fix it.

There’s nothing else he can say that could break me further than this

“You’re like a little sister to me.”

A tear fell down your eye, followed by another, and another. There was this pain in your chest that hurt more than any stab wound, any gunshot. It felt like it was piercing your heart, bleeding it of its life. You couldn’t be here anymore, seeing Dean’s steeled face with no emotion, you couldn’t handle it. You got up and ran, ran as fast as you could to your room, your legs feeling like ghost limbs. You shut the door and sat down on your bed, bawling your eyes out.

He didn’t take the hints because he never liked you. Why would you ever think that he would like someone like you? You aren’t even his type, eat too much greasy food, love handles for miles, you’re disgusting.

The voice in your head was driving you insane, it voiced everything that you were afraid to admit, all of your insecurities.

You never deserved someone like Dean, you don’t deserve happiness, only suffering.

“Shut up,” you growled. “That’s not true,” you muttered, not believing it but hoping if you said it, it would become believable.

Even you don’t think that, you’re pathetic, they only asked you to join them so they wouldn’t feel bad if you died on a hunt by yourself. God knows you can’t hunt to save your own ass.

You couldn’t stop the voices, they were overbearing, bringing all of your deepest darkest thoughts up to the surface. You couldn’t sit still, pacing around your room with tears streaming down your face. Bringing your hands up to your head, you tried to get rid of the voices but they weren’t letting up.

You can’t get rid of us, for we are your inner thoughts, the ones you tried to push down. If only you had understood that you were worthless, this wouldn’t have been happening.

I can’t do this anymore, you started packing all of your stuff up with haste, throwing your clothes into your duffel. You grabbed the keys to your car and snuck out of your room, Dean wasn’t anywhere in sight so you took your opportunity and ran to the garage, getting in your car and hightailing it out of there. You were on the road for about ten minutes before you started crying again, flashes from your conversation coming back to you.

You’re like a little sister to me

I don’t feel the same way

You felt like you were suffocating, unable to draw breath. Your heart still had that piercing pain, as clear as ever. The tears were coming at full force, blinding you so you couldn’t see the bright lights rapidly approaching your car.

Dean’s POV

Shit, I knew that conversation was going to come sooner or later. I had noticed every single hint that Y/N had dropped, but I made sure that I didn’t give her an inch. She could never find out.

After our conversation, she ran back to her room, tears falling down her face. I felt terrible, I had to force myself to stay in my seat so I wouldn’t go and comfort her, knowing she wouldn’t want anything from me. I went back to my room and could hear her crying through the wall separating us. There was a huge pain inside of my chest that no matter how hard I tried to push down it just wouldn’t go away. I felt like a complete asshat but this was for the best, I can’t do that.

After about half an hour, I decided to go talk to her, wanting to see if I could make her feel better. Walking into her room, my heart dropped. It was clean, she had packed up all of her stuff.

Fuck, no no no

I ran to the garage and saw that she had taken her car. I rushed back into my room and took out the tracker that could trace her car.

Why isn’t she moving?

I didn’t have time to dwell on that, I got my jacket and keys and ran to baby, getting in and pulling out of the garage, baby’s wheels skidding on the floor from my speed. Checking the tracker, she was about three miles ahead of me. After a few minutes, I saw bright blue and red lights lighting up the forest and my vision.

I drove until I saw it, her car totaled, smashed into some other person's car. I got out of baby and overheard the officer say, “The witness in the other car said that she seemed to have tears in her eyes so she couldn’t see the road.”

I rushed up to the car and saw her. Body limp, flown out of the car from the windshield, cuts all over her face and body. The officer tried to stop me but I pushed him off of me and rushed to her.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me? No no no no, don’t leave me, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” I choked out, tears streaming down my eyes. I couldn’t breath, her normally bright and beautiful face now colorless, her eyes that once had fire in them, lifeless.

It’s all my fault.

She’s gone and it’s my fault

I let out an ear piercing scream, the pain in my chest too much to handle. My soul felt like it was being ripped out of my body, punishment for not telling the truth.

If only I hadn’t pushed her away, we would be safe and back at the bunker

I succumbed to the thoughts in my head, it really was my fault. She’s dead because of me, just like everyone else.

Two Weeks Later

“Dean, can I come in?” Sam asked, knocking on Y/N’s old bedroom door. There was no answer so he walked in, recoiling and holding his nose with his hand. The stench of alcohol everywhere.

“Dean, what the fuck? What are you doing?”

“Fuck off Sammy, leave me alone,” he muttered, drunk off of his ass.

“Look, Y/N’s death hurt both of us, but she’s gone Dean! She’s gone, and drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to bring her back!”

“Get the fuck out, before I kill you,” he snarled.

Sam took a step back, the venom in his voice scaring even him. He left the room and slammed the door, angry that Dean wasn't letting him help.

Dean took another sip of the bottle, emptying it. He was disgusted with himself, not caring if he died or not, knowing that it was his fault Y/N died, he felt like he deserved it. Hell, he wanted it. He had no purpose left in life, without Y/N, everything was dark. She was the light in his world, the light that woke him up in the morning, the light that made him want to fight to become a better person, and he was the one who snuffed it out. He threw the bottle against the wall, roaring out in anger, the tears steady streaming down his face. He picked up a shirt next to him, the only one that Y/N didn’t pack and brought it to his face, deeply inhaling her scent, bringing another wave of tears to the surface.

If only I was strong enough to tell her, to tell her that I loved her.

Y/N POV

You woke up in a bright room, completely alone, in what seemed like a white box.

“Hello? Is this the new and improved version of hell?” you yelled out.

After a few moments, a door appeared and a man walked in. Fairly short, blue eyes and a beard, he seemed harmless.

“You don’t look like a demon,” you remarked.

He chuckled, “No, I’m not a demon, but who I am doesn’t matter, what does matter, is that it isn’t your time yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not my time yet’?”

He walked over to you, standing a few feet away from you, he smiled softly, his eyes glowing white, then everything went blank.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags: @akshi8278

Female Reader Tags: @punof-agun @emoryhemsworth

#reader #dean #dean fanfiction #dean imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #dw #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #angst #new writers on tumblr #oneshot #dean winchester x reader

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aw-eather · 4 years

Text

Heather Watches SG1: s1ep4 The Broca Divide

On todays episode of Heather doesn’t have anything better to do with her time and wants to re-watch episodes she’s seen 8 times/in the last 2 months, I will be rewatching Broca Divide and giving my thoughts in the form of dot points. It makes me laugh, it makes you laugh apparently and its just a bit of fun. I will try and put these all in one place at some point so we can find them all.

Warning: I don’t like Daniel in this episode (or most for that matter) so if Daniel is your fave, look away!

Really pretty shot of the mountain

dress blues fuck

they look so good

like really fucking good

Sam is like “sir did you just sass the General?”

she just rolled her eyes at him and did the little grin when he joked about the names being too complicated she’s so cute and adorable

Jack looks really really good

Like they both look so fucking good in those dress uniforms

I have a thing for uniforms apparently

but they both look good in dark blue its not my fault

Sassy Daniel

Silly Daniel (not my perscription)

Silly Jack making Sam smile (why doesn’t the MALP have one of these?)

I love them already

She’s so young.. such a baby space hero

FLYBOY

my cuppa tea is STRONG i messesd up

Night vision cam

Whomp they got jumped

Yeah shooting works too

They were PEOPLE, Daniel. Come on, i was starting to like you

CREDITS

I have VERY strong memories of waking up as a kid and walking past a tv that had been left on and seeing these exact opening credits when I was a kid.

AMANDA YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

especially that shot of them coming through the gate with the purple sky, I strongly remember that.

Does Daniel ever know whats going on/what it is/where they are/what it means?

I also call it rape and agree we should stop it fuck you Daniel, wtf?!?!?!

I don’t care if you think its how pre historic men mate, its fucking rape you ass hole what the fuck This isn’t a prehistoric time, you didn’t time travel, you can interfere. How Sam did not deck you at all during the last two episodes is BEYOND ME

The Untouched.

ooooh sun

JACK AND SAM BEING ADORABLE AND JOKING AROUND STOP MY HEART I LOVE THEM

I remember when my friends and I watched this and we were joking about how Jack went grey really quick and @allofthecaffeine said it was because he had to parent Daniel. I died

Scruffy Jack looks SO FUCKING GOOD WTF

he is so aesthetically pleasing honestly

Jack stop being sarcastic

Daniel stop

You’re not gonna find out why now either, Daniel. No body cares about the bulls.

I mean I kinda wanna know but not the point

Thats a lot of yes sir from Daniel, sto being a tit. I know you wanna look at this shit but its not what you’re actually there for babe.

Daniel stop interupting ffs shut up

Jack wake up honey

Uh oh

Marine looks unhappy

Sam’s little smile I love her

Jack doesn’t sound happy but he will be. He will learn to love his scientific girlfriend and their archaesologist son

“please release me, Lt. Johnson” Teal’c is everything. He’s the best. I love Teal’c.

Makepeace being Makepeace

Teal’c just stops the punch with one hand like its nothing lol “I would prefer to not hurt this man” lol

Daniel helping Sam out cause he’s a good friend, kinda sweet

Jesus those poor guys

Sam rushing to help because Sam is the best

oh FUCK

LOCKER SCENE

OH SHIT

TANK TOP

WE ALL DO

TANK TOP

NO NOT LIKE THIS JACK O’NEILL DID YOU JUST ADMIT TO HAVING THE HOTS FOR YOUR 2IC??

CAUSE I MEAN SAME BUT YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO

TANK TOP

HE PUT HIS FACE VERY CLOSE TO HER NECK THERE FOR A SECOND FOR NO REASON, HE WAS THINKING ABOUT IT

I wonder how many times they thought about hooking up in locker rooms after this...

just a thought

poor Sam is always getting tied down to be... I am gonna choose not to finish that sentence

JANET

JAAAANNNNEEEEEETT

LOVE OF MY LIFE

LIGHT OF THE SGC

TINY DOC AS I CALL HER

love the explination of the iso rooms like we needed that info

she looks sso good

she eserved so much better

excellent observation hun, I would never have guessed

strongest offspring huh

JACK GETTING DEFENSIVE ABOUT SAM

SHE SCRATCHED HIS NECK MY GOD

FUCK OFF DANIEL “YOU POOR MAN” GET FUCKED

SHE’S NOT YOURS TO CARE ABOUT

OH SHIT JACK HE DIDN’T QUITE DESERVE THAT MUCH OF A BEATING YET

LEAVE THAT UNTIL S8

JANET

SHE IS SO PRETTY STOP IT

I MISS HER

Had to pause cause my mum’s making coffee and my kitchen/lounge are one room

So how we all doing?

My aunt has turned up to use my oven because its better than hers

I might not get to finish this yet fam

I’m back

I got lunch

“never seen anything like this on earth” honey you are dealing with ALIENS

Of course you haven’t!

Why you explaining the names, didn’t y’all have a debrief.

MR TEAL’C STOP IT THATS SO UCKING CUTE jANET NO

First of many new plaugues, Hammond, don’t stress. This is just a normal day in the office for you

Janet’s hair is so bouncy I love her

Poor Jack

He’s having a rough day which isn’t unusual but its rough

Hammond stop stressing, you will be FINE

JANET’S S M I L E

I love her so much she deserved the world

Just the two of us suck it UP DANIEL

Once more unto the breach

Thats a great episode of Sanctuary actually. One of my faves

“we dumped them in a small room” lol Teal’c you the best

Daniel ffs

Guns again

to be fair they’d frighten me off. P90 is a big fun

so I guess it checks out

uh oh daniels been taken

what a shame

Oh Hammond poor thing

Aww even like this Jack is adorable

RDA sure is a good actor just saying

lol neck scratches ;)

Sorry I’ve said it like eight times but Janet is so, so beautiful.

Permanent brain damage? Sounds like a normal day in the office for these Space Babies

Always the hero, Jack

AW he touched her face

STOP IT I LOVE HER SO MUCH I CANNOT BREATH I’M GONNA C R Y

i love the language in SG1 and all the Goa’uld words

Poor Teal’c. They were v rude to him

YAS TEAL’C BEAT SOME ASS SO PROUD OF YOOOOOOU

GET THAT BLOOD

To be honest, I would have left Daniel behind but apparently we don’t do that... so

SAM NO

POOR BABY

LIGHTLY STABBED

POOR SPACE BBY

MR. TEAL’C JANET STOOOOOP I CAN’T

lots of big words Janet, stop with the big words

more big words

of course he’s sure, he’s Jack, he wants to help everyone...

well... not everyone but thats fine

LUCY I’M HOME

I AM NOT LUCY

Oh for crying out loud count is at two this episode

the gate spinning is their entire budget lets be honest

SAMMY

As if Daniel would be d...i guess he’s usually dead, isn’t he? Never mind

“Daniel you dog, keep this up you’ll have a girl on every planet” WHERE IS THE LIE

WHY IS EVERYONE ATTRACTED TO DANIEL WHEN JACK IS RIGHT THERE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND

More bulls

I love this guys crop top

also those blues are really pretty

Daniel is gonna need a new uniform, thats ones a bit ripped up

S C I E N C E

“There’s our boy” SEE HE IS THEIR CHILD

Aww those little happy grins

he looks so pleased

OG MY GOD

YES YOU DO REMEMBER

HOWS THE WOUND

WOUND

GOT STABBED IN THE STOMACH

THERE WONT EVEN BE A SCAR

GOOD. i WAS WORRIED YOU’D NEVER WEAR THE TANK TOP AGAIN

I N N A P R O P R I A T E

I N S U B O R D I N A T I O N

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH JFC ITS BEEN 4 EPISODES AND I CANNOT HNDLE THEM

stop flirting with your 2IC but actually never stop

marry her

Final Thoughts

Janet is the light of my life

she deserved the world and was paid dust

fuck the powers that be

how dare they

this episode is so cute and fun

but semi-serious

but like... fun?? IDK i really like Broca Divide

prescious babies are precious

they love each other so much already

TANK TOP!SAM

DRESS BLUES!SAM

DRESS BLUES!JACK

ok i’m done

Alright friends, lemme know what you think of this episode. That was fun, I love it so much. Its so fun jumping back from s4 Atlantis (where I’m currently up to) to watch s1 SG1 Sam because she’s such a baby and so precious and now she’s a LEADER bless her

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

Note

Bobby is dead, Cas is 51-50'd after taking Sam's crazy, the Leviathans are gonna eat the world, the Winchesters need some comfort. (Wincest or Wincest x reader por favor)

Where No One Could Find Them

Season 7

Sam x Dean

793 Words

Warnings: Angst, Kissing, Wincest

Saturday Drabbles Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

“We can’t just leave him there.”

It was the tenth time Sam had muttered those words to himself and Dean was losing his will to keep going. He knew it was wrong to leave Cas alone, locked in a mental ward with that demon bitch watching over him, but what other choice did they have?

Dean tightened his grip on the wheel and kept his eyes on the dark road ahead. “He’ll be safer there.”

Sam’s gaze snapped from the lingering rain droplets on his window to Dean’s profile. “Safer than what!”

Green eyes jerked to the side, glowing in the faint light from the dashboard. “Safer than anywhere we can take him. Meg’s gonna take care of him.”

“How can you trust her?”

Dean sighed but deep in his throat, it took on the tone of a growl. “You really wanna discuss how someone could trust a demon? Is that where you wanna go? Really?”

Sam drew in a deep breath and held it and his tongue, turning his eyes back to the blurring scenery. “It’s just not fair,” he said on the exhale, barely a whisper above the roaring engine. “Should be me.”

Dean felt his soul drop way down into the darkest parts of him. He pressed his tongue between his front teeth and bit down while he shook his head; just a little shock of pain to keep himself grounded while he drove.

“It was you,” he said softly, shifting in his seat away from Sam, turning his body towards the door. “For too long.”

Sam chewed his lip and didn’t answer, staring at the rain in silence.

Twenty miles later, Dean found them a tiny motel to crash in for the night. It was small, ill-lit, and they could pay cash at the front desk. The room keys were still keys, none of that electronic crap like the fancier places had nowadays, and their room had a good view of the only entrance to the small parking lot. It would have to do, even if just for a few hours.

Dean locked the door behind him, throwing the deadbolt and chain into place. He took a quick look around, making sure everything was safe, before coming back to the middle of the room where Sam was standing like a statue made of guilt.

“Sam?” Dean looked up into his little brother’s face, grasping at mental straws trying to figure out how he could help him. “Sammy, look at me.”

Hazel eyes fell just an inch.

“This isn’t your fault, OK? Cas wanted to do this for you. It was the only way to save you. You were dying.” Slowly, Dean lifted his hand to touch Sam’s cheek, fitting his palm against the stubble.

“I’m always dying,” Sam said, trying to brush off Dean’s truth. “Doesn’t mean he has to sacrifice himself.”

He tried to pull away, but Dean lifted his other hand, holding Sam’s face in place. “Dude’s an angel. That’s what they do. And frankly, he had this coming.”

“So you don’t care that he’s stuck there basically in a coma?”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sad breath. “All I care about right now is that you’re alive and healthy and back with me.”

Sam shook his head but Dean wasn’t letting him leave. His fingers dug into Sam’s cheeks and he pulled a bit, urging Sam to drop down to him. Dean pushed up on his toes and met him halfway, pressing his lips to Sam’s before another word could pass between them.

“I can’t do this without you, Sammy.” His eyes were closed and his breath was heavy. “Don’t want to, can’t, won’t.”

Sam kissed him back, slowly at first, as if in his long absence he’d forgotten how. When Dean pushed his right hand through Sam’s hair and splayed his fingers across his scalp, the jolt of pleasure it produced brought everything back. His tongue moved on its own, lips pulsing and breath pulling. He lifted his arms to wrap around Dean, pulling him as close as possible.

“I don’t care what I have to give up in this world,” Dean whispered, lips tickling Sam’s ear. “But I’ll never give you up. Never.”

Sam gave in then, pushing away the urge to cry and letting the fire reach his fingertips. He tore at Dean’s flannel, tugged at his jeans; desperate to feel the hot, smooth flesh hiding beneath.

There would be time for tears later, plenty of time to hide inside his own head and lament every choice he’d ever made, but for now, there was this. There was Dean, and a bed, and a locked door somewhere off a back highway where no one could find them.

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface ondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @desiree---1986 @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#ssd #wincest #sam x dean #angst #saturday season drabble #Anonymous #Beka Talks

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1wishyouwould · 4 years

Text

Emptiness. That’s all there was. A shadow lay across Sam’s world, only briefly lit by fire. Then smoke descended again. He didn’t know how long it had been since his brother had died yet he knew, some how it had be 6 weeks 5 hours and 43 minutes since the world come undone around him. The silence wasn’t the worst part, the wrong noises were. The humming of off key metallic riffs and whispered curses still lingered in the empty bunker.

Walking the halls turned out to be the newest way to pass the time, a new game if that was what it could be called. Walk as far as possible, to fall on the floor, unable to bare the weight of a world, without his brother in it.

It took him weeks to be able to go in to his room again, but the smell of old beer was almost as bad as the blood he could never quite wash off his hands. So walk in he did heart in his stomach, and a miracle at his side. He walked. Because he had too. So when he found a box under his brothers bed, Sammy written across it in the block letters of a child. He was taken aback. The lock on the front was old yet it had been recently unlocked by the lack of dust surrounding the key hole.

Searching around the room led to nothing but old pornos, and half stale pizza slices. Until he looked up from grasping underneath the bed, at a confused looking mutt, with an oddly shaped tag dangling from its collar.

Sitting up, and festering for the dog to come closer, he carefully pulled the collar over miracles head. Attached was a generic dog tag, and a single key. “Always loved your mysteries” a choked sob came out of his mouth, muffled slightly by a hurriedly rubbing at his eyes.

Leaning against the end of the bed, he inspected the lock and key. A perfect match. Fitting the key in he turned, pausing only to shift in to a more comfortable position. The inside was filled with papers, nicknacks and assorted bullet casings. One letter sat on top of the rest, that seemed to be the most resent. It was signed to him in deans haphazard script and sealed with red wax. Opening the seal reveled a letter dated a few days before his brothers death. A last gift perhaps. - - - Hey Sammy you and I both know I’m shit at saying my words out loud, and heaven forbid I actually admit to like or care about something. But the thing is Sammy I do care about three things in this world. You, my baby, and Cas. But it will always be you first, thats why I made this box Sammy, its for you my last gift to you. If i’m dead. And we both know id never let you read this if I was alive, I want you to know a few things.

First: Im waiting for you Sammy no matter where I am, I’m waiting for you. Cause your my stupid ass little brother and I’ll always need you. I cant be happy anywhere with out you in it.

Second: Take care of yourself, I know you. You learned one of my worst character flaws “everything is my fault” Its not Sammy I don’t care how I went it would never be your fault. Find Eileen stop hunting for a bit and just live. Just live Sammy. Be a human and get stuck in grocery lines for insane amounts of time or drive your kid to school. Just don’t name him John and your all good.

Third: cut your hair you look like a damn Sasquatch.

I don't know if I will have the time to write any more letters. And I’ve rewritten this letter so many times. So since this is the last one I wrote before my death then here’s what’s just happened. Cas is gone. The empty came for him. Bobby, Charlie and even the damn miracle dog, their all gone. As I sit here writing to you Lucifer and Michel are having th staring contest to end all staring contests. Because I might be too busy trying to save the world again, from God.

So, if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started hunting with you. And you helped me. You helped me Sammy, we’ve lost so much since I walked in your door all those years ago. Even if you didn't know what I was talking about. You in your weird striped pant thingy, and a girlfriend. Being with you made me not feel alone.

Because I know there are people who will say our lives didn’t happen, tell those sons of bitches how awesome I was. And there are people who will forget what it’s like to be normal when they get dragged along on the journey of being a hunter. I know our lives will be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs.

And you’ll be somebody's dad, because I can’t imagine a time where I die without saving you. But right now, these moments are not stories. These are our lives, our crazy demon, angel, monster filled lives. This is happening. We’re here. And as I look at this world so beautiful. And so broken. But it was Home. It was our Home. You, me, jack and that wonderful angel, following each other from heaven to hell, and everywhere and everything in-between.

And in this moment, standing against God himself, with little to no chance to survive but sheer dumb Winchester logic and luck. I would swear on my own soul.

We are infinite.

So get up off your ass, we’ll see each other again. Death hasn’t ever been able to keep us apart, even if there’s a new reaper I doubt that will change. But don’t worry I’ve got my hand full waiting for you. And I for one cant wait to see Kevin, and Charlie’s faces.

And besides I’ve got an Angel to run after.

Love your brother, Dean

- - -

After The tears slowed down long enough to read the letter once, he read it again. And again. Until the words could be read when he closed his eyes. Picking himself up, and off the floor, he walked towards the door, pulling on one of deans larger jackets on. Making his way slowly through the bunker, the dog at his heels, a silent companion.

Packing himself in to the drivers seat of the impala. He drove. Past hills and mountains, through valleys and towns. The same old mixtapes playing on repeat. And so the stories rose up. The tale of a man, searching for a woman. Who would stop at nothing to find her.

Hunters gathered around fires, in kitchens, and anywhere more than three could sit long enough to hear the tale of the Winchester brothers. The boys not even death could separate. The avenging angel, who would always come when called. And if you were lucky enough to find someone who knew them you could count yourself lucky, as not many that did lived to tell their tale.

It took time. Several thousand contacts. And mile after mile of the same road. But find her, he did. In an old run down dinner outside Chesapeake she waited. Together, tears shed for the ones lost along the way, old pains were dulled and almost forgotten. Except green eyes. Those would forever remain. Burned like a hand print in Sam's mind.

They settled down, and for once Sam got to be on the other end of the job. Instead of protecting people with guns and swords. He protected people with warm hugs and tender words. This life came almost easily to him. The routine distracting him from the ghost of almost forgotten smiles.

When his time came there was no fuss. Just a hand holding his. Dean. His sun, his son. The light that had been extinguished by the passing of his brother had come roaring back with a passion with the birth of his son.

His son.

Those simple words brought him so much joy. But sam knew. He could feel it. The end was here, and he wondered what might have happened if he had given up on that empty bedroom floor.

“You can go Dad its ok”

- - -

“Bitch”

“Dean”

#spn spoilers #spn 15x20 #fix it fic #destiel #if you squint #dean and sam #sam pov #dean d*es #im still not over it #its not even been a day yet #i am clown #inspired by the perks of being a wallflower

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91whiskeygirl · 4 years

Text

Whiskey Hangover

*Inspired by Season 14, reader insert. Slight foul language, some angst and maybe fluff? Changed things up so reader can be inserted, DUH🤷🏻‍♀️**

Everything is blurry. Every muscle you have is too relaxed to react to the strong arms trying to guide you to the bathroom. It’s been weeks since Dean had invited Micheal into him. There was no time to argue with him about it, he didn’t even get to say goodbye to you. He didn’t even look at you when Michael took control and vanished. The emptiness hurt you enough to drink yourself to passing out . Puking your guts out in a toilet was pretty much your daily routine, no matter what time of day it was.

“Y/n, breathe, it’s gonna be ok, just take it easy” Sam said to you softly as he held your hair back. You hummed in agreement while your gag reflex finally settled, and sat back against the cold tile wall, your eyes closed. Your head started to pound something wicked into your brain and you tried to focus on the giant in front of you cleaning you up. Pushing his hands away you get up with what physical will you had left in you and staggered your way into Dean’s bedroom. You only hear Sam’s voice as a muffle behind you, asking if you were ok, and to lay on your side before passing out. “Sammy, baby I don’t need you to take care of me, alright? I’m fine! I’m just peachy.”,huffing and collapsing onto the bed. Burying your face into Dean’s pillow the tears started to fall, you clutched to it tighter. You were angry, sad, numb all at once. Sam turns you to the side and places the wastebasket on your side of the bed. He gives you a small smile and gently pushes your hair away from your face.

“When you get up, I’ve got a couple of Tylenol and glass of water for you.” You blink your eyelids heavily and give him a small smile back, reaching for his chin. His beard tickling your palm. “Still the sweet Yeti as ever. I knew I picked the wrong Winchester.” He exhales harshly at that and his smile fades, but you don’t notice it since you fell asleep. He didn’t know if you were just teasing him or you actually meant it. You always had a loose tongue on your feelings when you were drunk. he admitted to himself that he had feelings for you, not as a friend or as a sister; but Dean was always the rambunctious one and took the first step to ask you out years ago after that one werewolf hunt. He stayed on the sidelines hoping those emotions whenever you gave him bear tackling hugs or pranked him while he was researching to fade, but it never did. He tucks you in and slowly makes his way to close the door, taking one last look at you.

Two weeks ago

“We had a deal!” You hear Dean groaning, straining to keep himself in his own body. The veins in his body start to pulse out and you watch him turn into Michael’s vessel before your eyes. You supported Jack with what strength you had while watching the man you love turn into an archangel. Too shocked to say a word you end up on your knees as he looks to you, Sam and Jack, “Thanks for the suit.”disappearing to god knows where.

Your blood shot eyes open and you feel yourself sitting up quicker than you wanted to, blood rushing into your head, the hammering pulse of a hangover presenting itself.

“Fuck. Never should’ve taken up whiskey.” You rubbed your temples and sit on the edge of the bed. Noticing your mouth feels very dry you look over to Sam’s little gift, a tall glass of water and a couple of Tylenol on the nightstand. “Thank goodness for you Yeti.” You say gruffly as you down the hopefully pills that might get you through today. You’d hoped to stay in bed but the only cure for a hangover would be food, you change into one of Dean’s shirts and put on some jeans, not bothering to brush your hair you place it in a bun and brush your teeth. It had always bothered you that there was a sink in the bedroom, but now it was a normal appliance since you barely left the room unless you needed a refill of whiskey for your glass. You head to the kitchen and see everyone scurrying around like working ants in their colony. Ever since they were saved and went through the rift most decided to stay and fight for the cause. You didn’t mind having company since it deflected what you were doing to yourself. Everyone was too busy to bat an eye at you unless it was asking where Sam was.

“Good afternoon, y/n,” a deep voice called out to you from behind. Cas was still an Angel, handsome as ever, but you could see the toll it took on him to keep everything in order while trying to track where Dean, Michael was. You shot him a wink while frying up eggs and bacon in a pan. “Hey Cas, it’s too bad you can’t taste food like before, I make a mean hangover breakfast.”

“Are you up for joining me trying to find...Michael?” He saw how your body stiffened as he asked reluctantly.

“It’s still Dean,Cas. But no, I’m thinking of hanging with Mary and showing what I made for the armory. I’m physically not able to be of help to you.Wheres Jack?” You replied.

“With Bobby, he insisted on getting some physical combat training since his powers....” Cas trailed off. It was hard for everyone, especially Jack. You knew how it felt to have your father tell you lies while you selflessly believed them, because you just wanted to be accepted and loved by him. But Lucifer only used him, the result, Jack basically being human, not that you minded, it was nice not having to tip toe around the kid, afraid he might blow up a town for just sneezing.You inhaled the coffee you made and engulfed your breakfast.

“It’s 2pm y/n, I see you slept in.” Mary pats your back gently as you send her a smile. “Just a bit, but you need to see what I did in the armory. I might be drunk 20 hours out of 24 but I still can finish a project if I want to . “

You both head into the gun range and open a small trunk full of bullets, neatly organized. Shooting yourself an approval lifting your eyebrows and biting your bottom lip, you showcase the display to her. “So, Angel, witch, werewolf, and vampire killing bullets. I’m even working on a leviathan version but they’ve been pretty distant since Dick exploded. But, you always need a plan in case. I’m supposed to be good about that, I WAS good about that.” You tell her, shoulders starting to slump. No matter what version of what you thought could’ve happened if you’d planned it more carefully, it always shows the same outcome. Dean inviting Michael to be his vessel without hesitation, and him flying out to wherever the hell he is now. It pained you too much to think about it, you always end up thirsty for something stronger than your usual girly drinks to diffuse the pain in your chest.

“ This- this is amazing y/n! You did good.” Mary praises you, holding a vampire bullet into the light, squinting to examine all the details. Placing the bulletin back into it’s socket, she sighs softly and looks to you. “Y/n, I might not have been there enough for my boys, but I know that they care for you deeply, especially Dean. Please, don’t hurt yourself more than you already have. This isn’t your fault. He was desperate, we all were, to save Sam and Jack. This is all Lucifer’s doing. We’ll get him back, I promise.”

The tears start to well up in your eyes but you don’t blink them away, letting them fall freely down your cheeks. You close the trunk and place it on the shelf. Mary pulls you in for a hug but you don’t hug her back. Your too exhausted from last night’s alcoholic binge to care the empathy coming from your mother in law.

She understands enough to leave you to your own personal space. You walk on to the range with a target sheet, longer than you, having to jump to reach to clip it up. Putting on safety glasses you load regular bullets into your pistol and aim at the target, cocking it. Exhaling slowly and rounding your shoulders, you aim and fire. The bullet goes through first into the target’s chest, a second shot to the shoulder, another to the throat, then two to the head. You shrug not impressed. Though hungover you still had very good aim thanks to Dean teaching you. It became second nature to you.

Couple Years Ago

“You need to relax your shoulders! You’re like a little gremlin, you won’t aim where you want to y/n!” Dean voices raises at you, ear mufflers on you glanced his way disapprovingly.

“Well, maybe I need a bit more help than just telling me what to do! I may be hands on but I’ve never actually shot a gun before if you hadn’t noticed.” You gritted your teeth as you fired another shot, missing the target and having the bullet ricochet. “This is bullshit!” As you were about to place the gun down you feel Dean behind you too close for comfort, your breath stuck in your throat. You can feel the rush of heat starting to emerge from your neck to your ears then your cheeks as you turn pink from the unexpected contact. He takes your hand holding the gun as if he’s your shadow and guides your arm up level with your shoulder. His other arm around your waist, starting to tighten his grip you straighten up your back, involuntarily rubbing your ass against him. A tiny groan leaves him and you try to ignore it.

“Relax, you got this, aim and shoot, just like I showed you baby.” Whispering to you, feeling his breath on your neck.

Exhaling slowly you look to the paper target and three shots ring out, three holes in its face. “Holy crap, holy crap! I frikking did it! Haha!” You jump for joy, turning around to hug him tightly. His one arm still on your waist the other grabs your gun and uncocks it then puts it on the table. “You did great sweetheart, you’ll be able to shoot with a rifle in no time.” A big smile on his face as he leans down to kiss your lips. Your hands travel up to the back of his neck receiving a pleasant reaction from Dean as you reciprocate his kiss. “Well, luckily you’re my teacher. I might need some extra credit Mr. Winchester.” A glint in his green apple eyes and he carries you in his arms as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. “Dean! I’m too heavy!” “Sweetheart, I’ve carried you out of hunts many times. Believe me when I say you’re not the heaviest thing I’ve had to throw around.” Your arch a brow at him “throw around huh?” A smirk on your face as he carries you back to the bedroom.

“Y/n? Are you ready? Y/n!” Cas is waving his hands at you, making you snap back to reality. Blinking a few times you see Cas is ready with his gear. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I haven’t even packed, I don’t want to waste your time, just go ahead without me Cas, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a disconcerting look. You stare back at him hard. No matter how long you’ve known the angel , the stare you give, he knows when to back off.

“I’ll, be, fine, wings. I’ll handle the bunker til you get back. Plus Mary and Bobby are here.”

With that he nods and heads out. You sigh heavily and rub your face down, deciding to look for Sam. The group that stayed back in the bunker are too busy to answer you, then you here someone call out.

“Hey Chief! We got a tip from a hunter of yours, says she might’ve sighted Dean.” Sam’s tall frame appears a few yards from you. His beard is scruffier and thicker than ever, the bags under his eyes show he hasn’t properly rested since Michael jumped his brother’s bones. You make your way to him as he sits in front of his laptop. Sensing your presence he looks up and gives you a grin.

“Hey, look who’s awake, sleeping beauty.”

You slap his shoulder gently and then lean over to see what he’s doing, you can smell his conditioner that he uses to keep his hair oh so soft and shiny.

“What we got Sherlock?” You tease.

He laughs sharply and tries to concentrate on the screen in front of him.

“ Get this, we got a tip where Dean could be, but he’s jumping everywhere. He’s frying up bodies left and right, the police are all over it. Eyes melted out of their skull.” Your neck tightens but you keep your composure. “Hm, classic angel-type of kill. So no location where he was last?” You ask, Sam shaking his head.

You straighten up and head to the mini bar. “Ok, so we know Dea-Michael, is grilling random people in random places. Great. He’s planning something but what the fuck is it?” You pop the glass bottle of whiskey and start to pour until a huge hand covers it and places it to the side. You look up to Sam and show you’re not accepting the rejection of your tonic, trying to grab it from him, only to raise it higher than you can reach. “Nuh uh. Didn’t you learn last night? You were keeled over the toilet for a good half hour before I got you to bed, hoping you weren’t going to drown in your own vomit, y/n.”

You sneered at him and tried to jump up to get the glass back.

“Yeti, it’s my own problem, if it helps me with what we’re dealing with so be it. “ he places the glass on the top shelf of the bar and you scowl. You reluctantly relax as he pulls you in to hug you. “It’s not going to help numb the pain you’re feeling y/n. It might feel like it helps but you’ll always end up feeling like shit at the end of the day. I need you to be strong. I need you.” With those last three words you look up at him as he looks down at you with his hazel eyes. You’ve never recalled being this physically close to the youngest Winchester, and you realize this is too close to be considered platonic. You don’t know if it’s because you’re lonely or you’re still drunk from last night’s binge, but you don’t feel anything wrong as you hold his waist a bit tighter than you should, clutching for dear life. You feel the heat of his back radiating on to your hands and your fingers spread to travel upward to the middle of his back, wanting to feel more of him.

“Ahem.” You both look to Bobby clearing his throat. Realizing you’re in the middle of the bustle of everyone, but no one can tell you’re holding his waist under his jacket, Sam let’s go of you and you cross your arms to face Bobby.

“We’ve got a problem.” Holding the phone out to Sam.

**Do I need to continue this as a series or what? So much slow burning of angst and almost smut I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.**🤷🏻‍♀️

#spn one shot #spnfanfic #spnfandom #spn season 14 #archangel dean #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #cas x reader

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wayward-marvel-sommer1196 · 4 years

Text

Death At Halloween

Pairing: Dean x Reader; Dean x reader

Warnings: SPN canon violence, death, language, angst

Word Count: 1073

Summary: This Halloween you and Dean decided to take your five-year-old daughter trek or treating. However, when you get back to the bunker something isn’t right. What happens when Dean goes in to investigate? It will change your lives forever. (I suck at summaries)

A/N: This was written for Steph’s ( @torn-and-frayed ) Halloween with Dean Challenge that was Due way back on November 4th, 2017. Sorry, so late hun. Been going through a lot the last couple of years. My prompt was Death, and no it’s not the Horseman Death, sorry. This is very angsty. No beta. Feedback welcomed and wanted since I’m really rusty.

Written for @spngenrebingo

Square: Dean Winchester

Tonight, was the night that all children dressed up as their favorite characters, ate a ton of candy, and had a lot of fun. They could do this because of the work that you, Dean and Sam did. You kept all the real monsters away so that kids could pretend to be them and be safe.

You guys usually kept extra busy on Halloween. However, this year was different, yours and Dean’s daughter was 5 years old and really wanted to go trick or treating like all the other kids. When it came to Simone you couldn’t say no, and you wanted her to have as close to a normal childhood as possible.

Simone was the greatest gift life could give you and Dean. You never thought about having kids in this life but after one reckless night, it became a reality. Dean was amazing with her despite being against the idea in the beginning. She understood as much about your life as a five-year-old could. She knew it was scary, dangerous, and most importantly a secret.

Since she was so good about the life you lived you, Dean, and Sam discussed it and decided taking her trick or treating wouldn’t be so bad. She dressed up as a “monster hunter” because she wanted to be just like you guys. You thought it was adorable and went along with it.

After two hours of going house to house and collecting all the candy little Simone could carry you decided it was time to call it a night.

“Alright Simone, its time to head back home. It’s getting late,” you said.

“But Mama I want more candy,” Simone whined.

“I think you have enough love bug,” Dean said.

“But Daddy I still have room in my bag.”

“You mean the bag that I’m carrying because it got too heavy for you?” Dean said with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah.”

“No love bug it’s getting late and you have to get to bed,” Dean said.

“Fine, but Uncle Sammy has to carry me home,” Simone retorted.

“You heard her Uncle Sammy,” Dean said as Sam smiled and gladly put Simone on his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile at the little family you had before you.

Before you knew you were back at the bunker, but something seemed off. You, Dean, and Sam all gave each other a look signaling you were all thinking the same thing.

“I’m gonna go check the bunker. You guys stay here,” Dean said as he walked in. Almost immediately after walking in something attacked Dean throwing him against the wall so hard you could hear it outside.

You knew there was something in there and you knew you had to help Dean so you turned to look at Sam and then your daughter, kissed her, and made a run for the bunker door.

“Y/N, wait!!!!!! Come back,” Sam screamed.

“Uncle Sammy, what’s happening?” Simone asked holding back tears.

“Nothing sweetie. Everything is going to be fine,” Sammy lied to Simone as he hugged her and held her close.

You ran into the bunker to see Dean on the ground pinned by what you then realized was a ghoul and taking blow after blow. You grabbed the knife from your waistband and threw it at the ghoul landing in its shoulder. This distracted the ghoul enough to give Dean time to getaway.

You thought this would upset the ghoul but instead, it just turned to you and smiled. It came running towards you and you had no weapons left but your fists. The ghoul had your knife and Dean’s gun was on the other side of the room so you ensued in a fistfight with the ghoul. Dean grabs his gun to come help you but the ghoul grabbed the knife from its shoulder and sliced Dean’s arm that held the gun. He dropped the gun and the ghoul came charging towards you slicing your abdomen causing you to let out a scream.

Simone heard you scream and managed to wiggle her way out of Sammy’s arms and run into the bunker. Sammy went running in after her but was too late. Simone ran right into the ghoul who grabbed her.

“NOOOOO!!!!!” you and Dean both screamed at the sight unfolding in front of you. “Let her go.”

Tears started to roll down Simone’s face as she tried to wiggle out of the ghoul’s arms.

“Put your weapons down or the girl dies,” the ghoul said as he held a blade to her throat.

You and Dean complied and threw your weapons to the ground.

“Good. Now I’ll let her go if you come with me.”

You looked at Dean as he shook his head pleading with you not to agree.

“Ok,” you said much to Dean’s dismay. The ghoul smiled and let Simone go. You walked towards him and he grabbed your arm immediately stabbing you in the stomach and twisting the blade. You let out a scream and collapsed.

“That’s for my family, you bitch,” the ghoul uttered.

Dean immediately grabbed his gun and shot the ghoul dead. Simone ran into Dean’s arms with tears in her eyes and he held her tight.

Sam then ran into the room to see the horror that just unfolded. Dean kissed Simone’s head and handed her off to Sam as he ran over to you. He kneeled by your side and cradled you in his arms. You brought your hand up and cradled his cheek as you wiped the tears.

“Don’t cry De. I love you so much and need you to keep it together and take care of Simone for me and don’t let her forget me. This is not your fault. You need to remember that. You and Simone are the best things that ever happened to me and am glad to have known happiness in this short time,” you kissed his hand one last time before you closed your eyes and died in his arms.

After about an hour of beating himself up and chopping up wood Dean and Sam put your body in a pyre to give you a proper hunter send-off.

Dean grabbed Simone and held her tight in his arms as tears stained their cheeks while they watched you burn.

Simone looked up at Dean and asked, “Is Mommy in heaven now?”

“Yeah, babygirl she is.”

“I miss her already Daddy.”

“Me too sweetie, me too.”

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Dean Winchecter

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notalentdouchebag · 5 years

Text

Coda 15x03

I tried.

Thank you for the motivation @ castielrisingabove @allofmystudentsrunaway

''What...what do you mean he LEFT?''

Sam was confused. His mind was already clouded by Rowena. Her face kept dancing around him--her eyes; her crying eyes, her silent pleas, her looking back one last time. Her warm blood still felt running down his hand. Can you have a phantom pain in your heart? Both sides of his chest hurt now; both pains were ghosts added to the list of what was about to haunt him for whatever life he had left. Now, Dean stood there in front of him-- announcing the departure of his only friend left.

''Well he left Sammy, what else''. Dean started pacing towards his room. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He never did anyway. But right now, it was too much. Something he never thought would happen had happened and there was no sane way he could deal with it.

''Wait. Dean. What did he say, why... Where was he going? Ah... Did he say anything about going to heaven...Umn...looking for Chuck or anyone or...uh--''

''No Sam. He didn't. He didn't want to stay here anymore okay? Okay? Now this is finished. He made his choice. I don't want any more of this. You heard me''.

All the water in Sam's body had somehow evaporated through his eyes. A thorn in his throat stopped him from yelling at Dean to come back and explain what happened. It was useless anyway, even if he had yelled. Dean was not going to talk as always.

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

'' Ah no. No, its fine Claire. He just left in a hurry, so I thought maybe... So, Say hi to Jody ok, I gotta go. Something's up.... Yeah take care. Bye''.

Dean entered the kitchen scavenging for any alcohol he might haven't consumed in the night. He opened the fridge to find nothing left and let out a pissed off grunt.

''Who?''

''Ah. Nothing. Just making some calls for...Cass'', Sam breathed through the words.

Dean raised a frustrated eyebrow and slammed the fridge door.

''You drank all of it?'', Sam asked with disappointed. He really needed some now.

''Yeah. Gonna grab some. You want something else?"

''Yeah. I want to talk Dean''.

Dean sat down on the table, the bitchface still intact. ''Well. I am all ears!''. He put on a big fake smile--sarcastic.

''Dean. What happened?

What happened. What happened was that Dean has always been John when dealing with Cass. But the difference this time was that Cass stopped being the good soldier that he always was. Dean threw his hands in the air.

‘‘NO. Dean. Not this time. What did you say to him. Okay don’t give me that.... that face okay. He didn’t bother to say a word to me, now you won’t say anything. I think I do have the right to know!”. Sam was trying hard not to burst into flames. It had been a hard day for everyone. Controlling his anger seemed a bit less possible now but he was trying.

Dean raised his eyebrows and turned to Sam. “Sam he doesn’t want to be here. Okay? He knows what he has done-- he again messed up the...the whole thing and you had to kill Rowena. He made his choice. Good for him. You good now?”

Not possible

Sam took a deep breath. “Dean you know it’s not all his fault. You know that.”

“He got mom killed Sammy. He could have avoided that.... You know what? He should have left before, before all ...of this crap that has happened. Before today, Before Jack...”

Impossible

Sam fought the tears in his eyes. he felt as if his windpipe was knotted.

‘‘Dean. You ... always. ALWAYS. You always behave like mom was only yours...that only you care about her. I...I... I AM DONE WITH THIS OKAY? When she got stuck in the apocalypse world, you did the same thing. Am I not a part of anything ...or ...jha--” Sam’s voice broke.

Dean couldn’t manage to stand there anymore now. He had to run, as always. Run away, seal himself, not say a word and then explode all at once.

“You done?”

“Where are you going?”, Sam asked giving up.

“Get you some drinks, get some ointment for your wound. See ya”, Dean said as he stormed out of the bunker.

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

You and Sam have each other. Cass’s voice banged in Dean’s ears.

Now you can barely look at me. No. He knew it wasn’t right. He should have known. I was angry. How can I not want to look at him? It’s time for me to move on. Move on from what damnit. You need to move on from being a plan wrecker--that’s what you need to move on from you idiot of an angel. Nothing would have happened if he would have told about Jack before...Jack could have been stopped--we would have figured something out. He could have.... Where would he even go huh? Heaven? To those betraying douchebags? Idiot. He has always been an idiot. I have tried to talk to you, over and over, but you just don’t wanna hear it. Yeah, right. Obviously I don’t wanna hear it. What do you even expect of me huh? To listen to your excuses for getting mom killed? You know it wasn’t his fault Dean. Yeah right. Everyyyy one is right. Always. Yeah yeah cuz this was all a damned game of Chuck. Chuck. Son of a bitch. He did all of this. He let Azazel kill mom and then his damned grandson kill her again. Why do you even keep bringing me back huh? To kill me again and again? Why do you even love killing me over and over you sadist.... You asked what about all of this is real...We are. No. NO. Its Chuck. Nothing is real. me, my pain, you, Sam, this--this apocalypse this--us.... not real. Nothing is real. Just a badly written teen thriller that Chuck thought might be fun. Michael was right. Pawns. All of us. Damned puppets. Mom is dead. Jack, Rowena...Ketch..... Why am I still alive. Where did he even go. Where will he even go from here? Where even.. He doesn’t even...have...anyone......

The bottle rolled from his hand. His music couldn’t numb out any thoughts in his head.

And anytime you feel the pain, Hey Jude, Refrain. Don’t carry the World upon your shoulders. There was no world left. Only if someone knew.

Sam was in deep slumber from the sleeping pills and painkillers. Ain’t no painkillers killing your phantom pain boy.

Dean lay on the floor beside his bed; drowned in alcohol, music, thoughts and pain. Everything had started mixing up now.

You and Sam have each other.

But I don’t have you Cass.

#SPN #supernatural 15coda 15x03 #supernatural 15x03 #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #fanfiction #coda

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the-dead-skwad · 5 years

Text

It’s a trap X Sam Winchester X Reader

I had this idea after work the other day, wrote it quite quickly so sorry if it isn’t amazing. It’s only small but please let me know if you want another part because I could add more.

The room spun as you struggled to open your eyes, the restraints on your wrist was cutting into you as you tired to pull it just made it worse, "Look man, the Winchesters are not coming. You're wasting your time with me." It was pitch black and a heavy smell of blood hung in the air. Your toes only just met the ground making your entire body weight hung on your wrists. All you could hear was the demons heels hitting the uneven concrete as she paced up and down the room "They will come for you." "They don't even know I'm missing." She walked to the table where she had dumped all your belongings. Picking up the phone she dialed, put it on speaker and placed it back on the table. You heard one of the boys pick up. "Hello? Y/N? I swear if you don't bring us that knife back we'll kill you." The demon smiled at you "If you don't get here fast Dean I might beat you to it." "What? Who is that?" She picked up your normal hunting knife and walked towards you "You damn well who it is." "Don't Dean! Its a trap!" You shouted as loud as you could. "Y/N! Where are you?" She dragged the knife down the center of your chest, you couldn't help but scream. Both brothers called out you name. "I'm fine! She wants Sam!" She took the knife to you exposed stomach cutting you deeper than anyone ever had. "FUCK!" there was no way you were holding in the screams. As you tried to catch your breath she walked over to the phone "Come find us boys." "ITS LILITH!" You tried your hardest to tell them before she hung up. Face to face you stared at each other, a smile spread across her face as her eyes turned white. "Lets have some fun."

---

The door being kicked down woke you, your head spun and the taste of blood was stuck in your mouth. You could barely see anything. "No, please. No more." Was all you could choke out. A man stood in front of you, it took a few minutes but finally when your eyes focused it was Dean, Sam was behind him stopping Lilith with his weird demon powers. "No, stay away." You tried to warn him but you were sure you were on deaths door. "Its OK, we have you now. It's all going to be OK." he untied you and let your body slump over him. The room faded to black as you passed out in his arms.

Waking you could barely move. Your entire body was screaming. As you turn to the side Sam was sat on a chair with his head on your bed asleep. Dean noticed you wake "Hey, here." He passed you a glass of water. When you tried to sit the sheet stuck to the dried blood on your body. You winced with every move you made. "Thanks" you smiled through your swollen face. "Whats the damage?" "From what we can see, black eye, possibly broken cheek bone, broken ribs, Sam stitched you literally everywhere. Nothing internal we hope. Its just hoping for the best I guess." "Thank you, you didn't have to save me and patch me up. I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't." "Don't be stupid, you may have took the knife but I know it was for a good reason." You reached over and squeezed his hand "I was trying to save you two. Can't believe I thought I could do it without you." He squeezed back "You're stronger then you think." Sam started to stir, he opened his eyes and looked straight at you "Oh my god! You're awake!" He sat on the bed a kissed you onto of your head. You laughed a little "Hey Sam." "Don't you ever scare us like that again." His hazel eyes welled up. You placed your hand on his cheek "I'm here now and I'm OK. If it wasn't for you two I wouldn't be." Dean stood from his chair and smiled "Now we're all here and alive I think its time for some burgers!" "Perfect." You smiled "With bacon!" you called after him as her left the motel. Sam looked at you "I'm so sorry Y/N. Its my fault you're like this." He looked down at his hands getting teary again "I just don't know what we... what I would do with out you." "Oi." You lifted his head to look at you "This was my fault, I thought I could go after her myself and save you. I was stupid, not you." Even with all the pain you were in you heart was still beating a hundred times faster being this close to Sam, you knew you wouldn't get a better time than this "Sammy... You guys are everything to me. I love you both...." You took a deep breath "Dean like a brother but... but I love you. I love you more than any person I have ever met in my life. No matter how much demon blood is in you.. I love every tiny thing about you." He sat in front of you with his mouth wide open "Y/N... I... Wow." "Sorry, i shouldn't have said anything but yanno, I did nearly die today." You expected him to have a worrying look across his face but it was lit up like a god damn christmas tree "I have waited so long to hear that, I want you, I need you, I love you with all my heart." "Oh thank fuck!" You laughed. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against yours. You so desperately wanted to grab him and touch him and feel his hot body all over you. However your body was screaming in pain. He brushed the hair away from your face. "God I just want to touch you." "As soon as I'm better I'm going to destroy you." You laughed at him. "I'll look forward to it." He laughed as he leaned in for another kiss. The door swung open snapping you both out of it, Dean stood there looking between you both for a minute "FINALLY!" He shouted at you both. "Spare me the details, I'm just happy you've both realized you belong together. But right now I just want to spend time eating a burger with my brother and best friend." You both just laughed at him. He threw the burgers down on the bed and you all dug in. For once you all just sat chatting about normal things no ghost or demons. Out of no where Cas stood at the bottom of the bed looking at all three of you. A unfamiliar squeal escaped your mouth. "God damn it Cas!" You threw the burger on the bed. "Are you gonna tell them or am I?" Dean and Sam both looked at you, you shook your head "Don't do this. Not right now." "What?" Sam looked at you, the love in his eyes was replaced with worry. You hated to see him like this. "Cas please, I just wanted a little time or normality before this." "Not after what she did." Dean frowned at both of you "Will one of you tell us whats happening." Before you could speak Cas did it for you "Lilith forced Y/N to drink her blood... Lots of it." You were amazed Sam wasn't angry just sighed "Son of a bitch."

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction

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winsister91 · 5 years

Text

FGA Daedric Princes (Part 12)

Summary: The group split up as Dean and Shannon take off for their mini vacation and the Sammys hold the fort at the Bunker. Heaven keeps a close watch...

Characters: Dean x Shannon (OFC), Sam x Sammy (OFC), Gabriel

Warnings: Fluff, Crack?.Pissy frustrated boys?

Word Count: 3821

A/N: Written by @sofreddie and @winsister91. Side project we’ve been working on. FEEDBACK IS GOLD!! We’d love to hear your thoughts as this was spawned from us trying out different writing and characters. We hope you enjoy! Somehow I survived the writing of the last chapter. Now it’s all about the slow calculated counter-attack ;)

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Shannon dropped her bag in the trunk and made her way to the passenger door of the Impala, climbing inside and carefully shutting the door behind her, “So, you gonna tell me where we’re going or…”

“I made some reservations,” Dean smiled proudly, “How does our own private hidey hole on the beach sound?”

“Really?” she beamed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she looked over at him, “That sounds...awesome!” she laughed.

“Right?” Dean agreed, just as excited as she was, “So I was thinking we can get some booze, chill out on the sand...when it gets dark I’ll make a fire...properly scenic stuff.”

“You’ve got it all planned out, huh?” she smiled bashfully, “It’ll be nice to spend some time together. We haven’t really had a chance to just be, you know?”

“I know,” he nodded, “It’s been pretty non-stop, but...maybe this can be our thing once and awhile. An escape.”

“Well, let’s see how this goes first,” she laughed, “Who knows, you could get tired of me after spending so much time cooped up with nothing but me around.”

“If anything, you’ll be the one who gets fed up of me,” Dean laughed, “The only risk I got is getting addicted,” he tossed her a wink.

They drove along for several hours, music playing in the background as they took in the scenery and talked, about their lives, their dreams, and anything in between.

“Tell me a secret,” Shannon asked, shifting to turn in her seat, facing Dean, her elbow propped on the back of the seat as she let her eyes wander over him lovingly.

“A what?” Dean laughed slightly, glancing at her briefly, “Well...what kind of secret?”

“The kind you’re scared to admit to anyone, including yourself,” she urged gently.

“Well, you apparently already know everything I’ve done,” he countered, “and you’re still here which makes you doubly insane might I add.”

“Well, you’re hot as hell, so that helps,” she grinned at him, “And yeah, I know what all you’ve done. But I don’t know what you think or feel or want.”

He chuckled, cheeks slightly pinkening at her first comment, before he thought aloud, “What I want…” he mumbled, “I’m not even sure myself… but I know despite all the crap we’ve all been through the last month, having you around has made me the happiest I think I’ve ever been, truly.”

“I haven’t done anything but managed to bring demons and Heaven down on your head,” she sighed guiltily, “I don’t understand how that makes you happy.”

“Well not that stuff obviously,” Dean chuckled, “But that’s not your fault. I’m talking about...your smile. Your laugh. Seeing you look after everybody. You and Sammy bitching each other out but obviously loving each other to the end of the earth. Your sass...Need I continue?”

“I’m happy too,” she smiled softly, “The four of us, after everything, it just feels like a family unit, like we all click and fit together somehow. And I know that’s cheesy as all get out, but it just seems right, like this is how it’s supposed to be, for all of us.” she shrugged, blushing.

“Can’t argue with that,” he said with a nod, “‘cause that's exactly what it is. Right.”

Sammy’s eyes slowly opened, her head heavy and groggy. Sam’s room came into focus and she couldn’t stop the smile that grew on her face. With a grunt, she sat up, the cold air hitting her skin and making her shudder. Pulling the sheets around her, she glanced about for her clothes, finding them scattered haphazardly around the room.

That’s when she saw the clock, it was 1pm and her eyes went wide.

“Shit!” she hissed, scrambling to get dressed. An afternoon wake up wasn’t exactly abnormal, but it usually came after staying up until after dawn.

The Bunker was quiet as she paced the halls, a little too quiet, she passed by her own room and saw her game still sat on pause. Mentally telling her PS4 she’ll ‘be right back’ she went in search of coffee.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” Sam said, smiling from the island as he was making a sandwich for lunch, “How did you sleep?” he automatically began making a second sandwich, knowing she’d be hungry.

“A little too well seemingly,” she smiled sheepishly, approaching the coffee machine and yawning heavily, “Where are them two?”

He chuckled lightly, “Would you believe Dean planned a romantic getaway?” he laughed, “They left a few hours ago. Said we could use some time to ourselves too.” he finished making the food, bringing the plates to the kitchen table, “Oh, and he said when they get back, we can take the car on our own trip.” he wiggled his brows excitedly at her.

Her eyes lit up at the food, before they narrowed, “Wait, they’re gone!?” she whined, “Shannon went up and left without saying bye to her wife!? I feel like I’ve been dumped…” she pouted.

“Babe,” Sam sighed, holding her hand in his own, “For what it’s worth, she didn’t want to go until after you woke up. But Dean was eager to head out and I figured you two would just catch up on the phone later.” he shrugged.

“Any other time, I’d have been awake,” she folded her arms in a fake sulk, “But someone went and...a-and….heh…” she blushed and smirked.

“You’re welcome,” he teased with a big grin, “What do those doctors know anyway? Should’ve just prescribed you a giant dose of Sam Fucking Winchester.” he chuckled.

“More…” she chuckled at her own thought before she could say it, “A giant fucking from Sam Winchester,” she giggled childishly, “But wait, did you say Dean’s letting us run away somewhere when they get back?”

“Baby, you ain’t been fucked...yet,” he smirked with a wink, “And yes. When they get back, we get to take the car and go where ever we want. So start thinking up a vacation.”

Her cheeks burned, brain going plenty of places that weren’t vacation ideas, “Heh...I...um...I’ll work on that later,” she rose from the table, “Right now, I got some gaming to catch up on.”

“You’re gonna make me jealous of that damn thing,” he pouted, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on her belly as he looked up at her with his signature puppy-eyes.

“O-oh God,” she mumbled, “There it is. The famed puppy eyes, fuck! They really are effective…”

“How about…” he thought for a moment before giving her an innocent smile, “You go play for a bit and later, you can make it up to me?”

“Oh I’ll play,” she smirked, “Yeah, and then you’re gonna see what a counter-attack from Sammy Fucking Kelly is all about, just you wait!”

His grin turned sinister as he nipped at her stomach and one of his large hands gave her ass a squeeze, “I look forward to it.”

There was a small whine in her throat as her blush spread down her neck. Mind racing, she already regretted her words, there was no way anything she could think of was topping what he had planned she figured.

Dean pulled up to the small seaside cabin, just as the sun was beginning its decline behind the horizon. He threw the car in park, looking over at Shannon who had dozed off close to an hour before. He smiled, deciding to grab their bags and ready the cabin, before coming back to wake her, guiding her into the cozy abode.

“Wow,” she breathed out, taking in the small but lovely space, the back wall all windows looking out over the water. She smiled, walking towards the window and watching as the setting sun cast warm colors across the water, “This is pretty impressive, Dean.”

“It is,” he nodded in agreement, standing by her at the window, “I’ve always wanted to do something like this…”

She tugged on the sliding glass door with a wide grin, stepping out on the small deck, “Come on!” she cheered, running down the steps and onto the beach toward the surf.

His eyebrows raised watching her jog ahead, he grinned loving the sight of her being so care-free. He jogged after her, catching up to her just as she reached the water, “You’re gonna get your clothes all wet,” he chuckled.

She turned, wrapping her arms around his waist and smiling coyly up at him, “I was under the impression I wouldn’t be wearing them long anyway,” she cooed, pecking his lips lightly.

“Damn,” he grinned devilishly, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, his own hands snaking around her waist, fingertips lightly tucking into the waist of her pants.

“Unless, of course, this was meant to be an innocent escape,” she teased, batting her eyes at him.

“And what aspect of me do you think has ever been innocent?” he countered, his hand ruffling her hair as he lightly bit his bottom lip, “You’re beautiful Baby.”

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she teased, “So I’m guessing we have to run to the store tomorrow, stock up the fridge and whatnot so I can cook for you,” she grinned, “So what do you want to do about dinner tonight? I’m sure you’re starving.”

“Nuh uh,” he pressed a finger on her lips, “You’re not doing anything but relaxing. S’about time I showed you my own cooking expertise.”

“Mmm, that sounds good,” she agreed, “I could get used to this whole ‘playing house’ thing,” she joked, blushing bashfully.

“Well good, ‘cause you’ll have to get used to it,” he smiled, “You’re right though, we’ll need to go to the store so...takeout tonight?”

“Whatever you want, Dear,” she teased, kissing him once more.

“Dear?” he laughed, “Ok, darling.”

She scrunched her face in distaste, “Yeah, no...that’s just weird.” she laughed, releasing her hold on him and looking back over the water, “Maybe tomorrow we can go in the water? Swim a bit, ooh! We can walk the beach for shells!” she said excitedly.

“Sure,” he narrowed his eyes mischievously, pulling her back to him, “Or we can just go in the water now?”

Before she could answer, he had hold of her, spinning on his heels and falling back into the surf, dragging her down on top of him.

She squealed in surprise and gasped in shock as the water came rushing up to them once more, “Dean!” she giggled, slapping him on the chest, “Now we’re all wet.” she chuckled with a playful pout.

“I did warn you,” he shrugged, splashing the water like a child and laughing.

She grinned down at him, hovering above his lips, “Now we have to shower…” she mockingly complained.

“Well isn’t that just a pickle,” he bit his tongue playfully.

She leaned down, kissing him tenderly, pulling back with a happy sigh, “You do realize you’ve gone full romance novel, right?” she laughed, “Making out in the sand at sunset…” She moved to kiss him again, before a bigger wave crashed to the shore, washing over them abruptly, “Oh fuck!” she exclaimed, wiping the water from her face and getting to her feet, holding out a hand to help him up, her clothes and hair now soaked.

“That’s why romance novels are full of crap,” Dean joked, taking her hand and pulling himself up, and shaking the water off his face before grinning, “So how about that shower?”

“Uh...yeah,” she gave a small smile, blushing as she made her way back to the cabin. Her mind ran a million miles a minute. Did he plan on showering together? But that would mean he’d see her naked. Did she ask him to join her? She made her way into the house, grabbing her bag and looking around for the bathroom, her features betraying her nervousness as she nibbled on her lower lip.

Dean tossed his jacket onto one of the cabin’s small radiators, still chuckling softly to himself. He started looking around too, opening doors and peeking into the rooms. His eyebrows raised at finding the bedroom, a large queen sized bed which already gave him thoughts.

With only one door left, a huge wet room came into view, “Wow…” he said, “Okay so...uh…” he looked at Shannon and suddenly felt shy, “You get first dibs.”

“O-okay,” she breathed out shakily, nodding at him as she passed to go into the wet room. She gave him one last glance as she shut the door behind her, letting out a long breath once she was alone, before going about her shower. She came out a short while later, freshly cleaned and dressed in her tank top and sleep pants, smiling sheepishly at him, “It’s all yours.”

He found his eyes lingering on her, the tank top tight and showing off every delightful curve. Composing himself, he nodded, “I, uh, found some takeout menus so go ahead and pick something.”

She nodded, watching as he disappeared into the wet room, his wet clothes clinging to his back, his muscles visible beneath them. She let out another shaky breath, shaking her head and composing herself as she went to peruse the menus. By the time Dean returned, she had settled on what she wanted.

“Hey, I figured this could work,” she handed him the menu with the notes on what she wanted. Her eyes lingered on him, looking so relaxed in the simple t-shirt and track pants.

“Works for me,” he said with a smile, mentally picking for himself and grabbing his cell. After placing the order, he went out to the car, grabbing some beers from the cooler he stashed on the back seat. He looked out over the beach as he made his way, chuckling to himself. If someone told him a month ago this is what was coming, he’d have never believed it. Stepping back into the cabin, his smile grew broader as he laid eyes on Shannon, holding a beer out toward her, “Drink on the deck?” he proposed.

She accepted the drink, nodding as she made her way back onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs that faced the water. The sun was nearly dipped beneath the horizon, the outside growing dark, the sounds of the waves crashing the only noise around them.

Dean sat in the chair beside her, knowing he should probably be admiring the view, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. “I know we pretty much just got here,” he said, “But what do you think? Think this could work as a regular escape spot?”

“You tryin’ to get a timeshare, Dean?” she laughed, looking over at him, “I think it’s perfect,” she admitted.

“Timeshare,” Dean scoffed, “Believe it or not, this place actually doubles as a hunter’s safe house. All I do is put the word out for everyone to stay the hell away.”

“This is a safehouse?!” she exclaimed, shocked, “Wow...y’all hunters got it made.” she whistled. “So wait...you own this place?”

“Trust me, the rest of them are dives,” Dean laughed, “Nobody really owns it, but it’s a favored spot. This is actually my first time here, word was some Hunter completely did the place up ‘cause he was fed up of having to crash in dumps.”

“Well if it’s a common house, then you can’t really keep people away, Dean. What if some hunter shows up because he needs a place to hide out?”

“They get some cash put in their hand and sent away to a motel,” he shrugged, “No one will show up, trust me.”

“I do,” she said, so simply and matter of fact. A knock at the door drew their attention and Shannon stiffened slightly, her eyes sliding to Dean in question.

“Huh…” Dean got to his feet, “Food comes real damn fast around here.” He ventured to answer the knock, his face dropping at the sight on the other side.

“Heya, Dean-o,” Gabe smirked in greeting, holding up the bag of food, “You ordered some Chinese, right?” Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the archangel, “Oh come on!” Gabe protested, “You finally got some time alone with your Sweetie...just checking that all is well.” he smiled, looking over Dean’s shoulder to see into the house, “Nice digs.”

“Everything’s just fine,” Dean growled, snatching the bag of food, “Now get lost.”

“So,” Gabe lowered his volume, “Tonight’s the night, huh?” he smirked, wiggling his brows and rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Are you-” Dean nearly shouted, opting to step out and close the door behind him first to try and keep Shannon out of earshot, “Are you fucking serious!? Cas was supposed to tell you feathery dicks to leave us the hell alone!”

“Oh, he relayed your message,” Gabe confirmed, “But, you know, Heaven’s agenda, bloodlines, yada, yada, yada…”

“You know,” Dean shook his head, completely done, “If you guys put as much effort into other stuff that you do with this, the world may not be so fucked!”

Gabe’s happy expression dropped as he narrowed his eyes at Dean, stepping into his personal space, “Now you listen to me, dick,” he said, raising a finger for emphasis, “Why do you think Heaven is so intent on continuing the Winchester line, hmm? Your kid...your kid, is gonna be the one to stop things that you don’t even know are coming. And I am that kid’s...let’s just call it a...guardian. So how about you stop being so self-centered and focus on the bigger picture!” he growled, his anger shining in his eyes.

“Y-you,” Dean looked at Gabe in shock, “You are gonna be...my kid’s Guardian Angel?” Dean couldn't hold back the titter in his voice, “That’s hilarious, poor little bastard.”

“Archangels don’t usually take these gigs, but with Winchesters involved,” he shrugged, “So you do your part and I’ll do mine,” he smirked, before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

“Dean?” Shannon’s voice could be heard calling to him from inside the house and he realized how concerned she must be.

Dean shook his head, still processing the new information before heading back inside. After they ate, they found themselves back on the deck, drinking the last two bottles of beers as the moonlight shine across the sand and water.

Sam made his way from Sammy’s room to the kitchen, having been trying to learn the game she was intent on teaching him to play. He quickly pulled out his phone, deciding to check on Dean, as things always seemed to pop up on them.

“Hey,” Sam said into the phone, “Just wanted to check in, see how things were going,” he said to his brother.

“Yeah, having your little brother ring up while you’re trying to have a romantic getaway really adds to the mood,” Dean scoffed on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, well I wasn’t too thrilled when Gabe popped in earlier,” Sam groaned in frustration, “Randomly dropped off some Chinese food and said you were a dick.” he huffed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean also groaned, “He came over here, spinning shit about bloodlines again…”

“Why haven’t we killed him yet?” Sam asked, exasperated.

“I’m not sure if that’s an option anyways,” Dean huffed, “Turns out he’s taking the job of being… my kid’s guardian angel.”

Sam’s eyes went wide, trying to decide which bit of information he wanted to tackle first, “Uh...ok, I have so many questions…”

“Ditto,” Dean agreed, “They’re recruiting for a role that’s not even available, but...as much as a dick Gabe is, at least...well...this supposed kid should be relatively safe having him as guardian.”

“I’m surprised you’re so calm about it,” Sam said, “I’d be suffering from performance anxiety at a minimum after that bombshell.”

“Okay don’t emphasize it!” Dean hissed, “We’re just...hanging out right now. Couple of beers, watching the waves, there’s no rush….right?”

“Really, Dean? You’re off on some trip, with a beautiful woman, alone, and you’re dancing around it?” Sam scoffed, “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were gay.”

“You’re not the one with Heaven breathing down your damn neck and practically watching!!” Dean snapped, “You worry about you, I’ll worry about me, and I’m not gay!!”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Sam agreed with a laugh, “So you have fun with that.” he teased, “Oh, and Dean?”

“What!?” Dean groaned.

“If I were you, I’d triple check my protection,” Sam laughed, “You’ve got a trickster hell-bent on plans after all,” Sam said, ending the call with a smug grin as he made his way back to Sammy.

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket, glancing at his bag. Specifically, the pocket he stashed the box of condoms in, he slowly zipped it open, seeing the box still there. Raising his eyebrow, he pulled the lid open and it was empty. “Son of a bitch!” he growled.

Sam came back to Sammy’s room, chuckling to himself with a grin as he sat back on the bed next to her, smiling as she paused long enough to slurp some noodles before returning to her game.

“What’s so funny?” she looked at him in curiosity before swiftly turning back to the game.

Sam proceeded to fill her in on his conversation with Dean, laughing almost to tears as he struggled to explain. “It’s just,” he paused to catch his breath, “I know it’s a sucky situation to be in, but from the outside, it’s almost hilarious. Especially seeing him freak out over the whole thing, knowing how much he really wants it.” he started chuckling again, before scooting down the bed to sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched her play, “Plus, it’s kind of nice to be out of the line of fire.” he admitted.

Sammy giggled in agreeance, leaning back into Sam comfortably, before her smile dwindled slightly, “Well...you say that,” she raised an eyebrow, “But Gabe showed up here too...he may not have said anything but...well, doesn’t that show we’re kinda still in the crosshairs a little bit?”

Sam’s eyes went wide, her words sinking in, as he quickly untangled himself from her, shooting off the bed and dashing to his room. Sammy could hear him shout from down the halls, “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!! Gabe! You piece of shit!!”

Sam came marching back into the room, hopping as he was pulling his shoes on his feet, “I’m gonna run out real quick,” he said, somewhat out of breath, pecking her lips, “Be back in a few minutes.”

“Ooo!” Sammy jumped to her feet, “Let me come! I wanna buy some junk food.”

“Babe, we just got Chinese,” he laughed.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, “...And?”

He sighed, “Yeah, okay,” he relented, “Come on.”

SOFreddie’s Forevers:

@oneshoeshort

@winchesterprincessbride

@iamcmims

@roxyspearing

@reigningqueenofwords

@mogaruke

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@speakinvain

@shotgunintheimpala-blog

@atc74

@sterekloveaffairs

@winsister91

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@chook007

@growningupgeek

@goldenolaf25

@esoltis280

@hobby27

@sis-tafics

@arryn-nyx

@x-waywardaf-x

@shann-the-artist-moon

@sandlee44

@lucywinchester2000

@emoryhemsworth

@ohmywinchester67

@stanclub

@time-travel-bouqet

@buckysbrat

@papi-chulo-bucky

@captain-ak84

@find-sammys-shoe

@calaofnoldor

@donnaintx

Winsister91’s Forever Posse:

@sofreddie

@ria132love

@chicagolove88

@akshi8278

@sis-tafics

@younoeatcheeseyounobefat

@mandilion76

@supernaturalmagicfolk

@emoryhemsworth

@pheonyxstorm

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@itspronouncedsatanbitch

@the--real-wombat

@xagateophobiax

@jensen-gal

@castiel11235

@19agbrown

@mogaruke

@nyxveracity

@cole-winchester

@esoltis280

@internationalmusicteacher

@meganywinchester

@sweetness47

@roonyxx

@imperiusimpala

@lazinessisalliknow

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@choosemyname

@dean-winchesters-bacon

@hunterswearingplaid

@bella-ca

@rainflowermoon

@calaofnoldor

@scarletsoldierrr

@supernaturalonice

#collab fic #self insert #sam x ofc #dean x ofc #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam fluff #sam angst #sam flangst #dean fluff #dean angst #dean flangst #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic

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marie-lamb-b · 5 years

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The Ink DeMonth. Day 9: Favorite Ship.

No one should ever croos paths with an angry, frustrated, livid Music Director. Guess say Wally was just unfortunate…

Well, kinda pretty late ^^U

I still can’t say is my fave/fave ship, but is the only one I’ve been able to think about the last month and a half, so I guess they’re just growing on me~

And sorry, I got carried away. This thing has over 8.4K words and I honestly didn’t expect this to be so long Dx

But if you still are willing to take a look, enjoy it!! ^3^

(Trigger Warnings: Foul language, Verbal humiliation, Implied homophobia)

Day of rage

This was a bad day. Bad, bad, in every single sense. Bad sleeping, bad morning, bad breakfast, bad trip to work. Bad, annoying, frustrating. Everything. Was. Bad.

Being usually moody and gruff was one thing; being faced to a severe writing block and frustrated all over every single note he put on paper was way another level of anger. And it was better for anyone in the studio to stay away from him, as his mood was so tense that he was even able to tell the president himself to go fuck himself.

If only Wally didn’t disturb him…

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, FRANKS. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A MORON!” The oh, so unfair scolding could be heard from the music department hall. “You can’t even do 1 single fucking thing right!” Norman flinched as he walked off the infirmary, Jack hiding behind him. “But no, of course you can’t. why would I have thought you could?!” Even the window from his office trembled with how loud the frustrated musician was being.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry. I just–”

“I DON’T WAN’T ANY OF YOUR EXCUSES, KID!” He cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from the poor janitor about whatever fault he had committed. “Now I want you to stop meddling here around and GO TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!” He sentenced with a rage fist smashing against his own desk, making it shake and sending down to the floor a pile of sheets and paperwork precariously balanced; right were the janitor’s mop and dirty water was laying.

The fall was as in slow motion for the wide eyes of the young man, and he acted quickly in hopes of saving the musician’s hard work. Albeit for his misfortune, the sole idea he concreted to successfully save the fluttering sheets was to kick away the bucked and mop, causing quite a mess at the other side of the man’s office.

For a second, he could have felt pretty pride for his quick action in such a desperate moment. But the musician did not allow such instance, as he was the closest to literally fuming out of rage over the janitor’s reaction.

This day started bad, and was about to get worse for the younger man.

“THE FUCK HAVE YOU JUST DONE!” Sammy shrieked, and Wally flinched.

“Mi– mi– mister Lawrence, I– I…” He stumbled on his words as he dropped in the floor, picking up clumsily the papers the other man just threw with his rage.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE SHIT FROM YOU!” His voice thundered, and Wally froze in the spot. “Get. Out. Of my office.” He hissed rather menacingly.

“Bu– But Mr. Lawrence, I have ta clean up tha–!”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!” He sentenced violently, and Wally stared with panicked eyes. “I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!”

And just like that, every bit of air escaped of the janitor’s lungs as if he was knocked. He felt his eyes starting to sting, and for a much sharp hearing, even could be perceived how his heart just broke.

Numb, in attempt to hide the pain the man’s rage caused over him, Wally simply stood up, leaving the papers he got to pick up on the desk, tilting his cap as to hide his stare in its shadow, and turning around towards the door, reaching for his mop and bucket in the process.

“Understood, Mr. Lawrence.” He said low and quietly as he left, leaving the enraged man panting with his glare lock on him even through the window, as if making sure the janitor won’t ruin anything in his departure.

Once he was absolutely out of sight, Sammy paced by his office, only to slip on the soapy water of the damn bucket that stupid boy left unattended, falling back and hitting his head hard. He let out a painful grunt; he should have let the boy to clean up before kicking out the poor janitor…

*-*-*-*-*

“What’s wrong with Wally?”

“I have no clue at all…”

“Didn’t you hear all that shouting from Sammy’s office?”

“You should never cross path with that man when he’s in such bad mood.”

“That guy is the front-man of any anger campaign.”

“Wally didn’t deserve such treat. He was just doing his job!”

“Well, what could be done? He was just the one being there to receive the blow. Wrong time and wrong place, I guess…”

“Wait, did Sammy hit the boy?!”

“Don’t take my words out of context!”

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like any could fix what’s already done…”

*-*-*-*-*

The word spread easily around the studio, and soon pretty much everyone –except those too busy to get out and chat– knew about the raging music director and the poor janitor that was there to serve as punching-sack for the former.

But even if they all wanted to catch in the last of the studio’s savory rumor, no one really expressed real, earnest concern, as the young man, listening to all of their bickering, trying to asking him something about further details, wouldn’t mind them. He just passed by, complying with his duties, and left with no more than a couple of courtesy words. No one really cared, as no one really knew how deep this was really affecting the janitor, except for Norman.

The taller man made his way towards Sammy’s office, easy going. Any other rage day he would just avoid the man, not willing to be involved in unnecessary quarrels, but the heartless way he treated the young janitor actually made him set up his mind. Not like he was up for a senseless fight with that man, after all, that’s right what he pretended to callback into that man: sense.

Reaching the musician’s door, he knocked to make his presence noted. “Hey, Sammy. How you doin’?” Only a muttered growl he received as answer; obviously wasn’t the right question to ask, but he couldn’t care less. His sight wandered to the office’s surroundings, and he locked his stare in the wet spot that took over the entrance zone of the room. “Mind to explain why’s wet all the place?”

“Because that stupid kid kicked his bucket there.” Sammy grumbled. Now that Norman was seeing clearly he could notice the man’s back was pretty much soaked. Definitively wasn’t going to touch that topic.

“Why would he do so?” He inquired again, earning a soft growl easily compared to a dog which food was taken off its muzzle. “Sorry to tell I didn’ get a word of you say.”

“I SAID,” He rose his voice, quite loudly. “How would I know how that moron’s head does work? He just did it.” He stated dryly, though Norman knew better, and a slight wobble in his tone was one of hiding things.

“…Yeah, sure, because he loves make you angry and get in your bad side.” He retorted, waiting for another of the same tone from Sammy but only silence lingered, leaving space for him to insist. “Seriously, why did so?”

“…because some sheets of mine almost fell over the bucket…” He admitted, his voice lowered.

“Almost?”

“Ok. They FELL over the bucket. He kicked it out of the way.” And slouched over his desk.

An appreciative hum, and Norman kept inquiring. “Why did ‘em fell?”

Silence; shoulders hunched, almost as if trying to turn as tiny as he could.

“Sammy…”

“I DROP THEM! Happy?” He finally turned to face the projectionist, red face but at this point could be said it was more over shame than rage. He was panting, trying to keep his rage façade, but Norman only shook his head in disapproval.

“And even though you called out on the boy as if he really was just horsin’ around only to piss you off.” And Sammy turned back over his desk, gripping his hair in frustration but struggling to not voice it out loud. He heard Norman clicking his tongue in reprehension before leaving. “That boy don’ deserves you…”

Sammy’s head shot up at the phrase, but when he turned to ask the projectionist what he meant the man already left; actually, already was half way the hall near the organist room, never turning back and holding his hands behind.

What did he just say? What did that even mean?! Ugh, that only made him feel confused and that turned only in more anger. Just perfect, now he won’t be able to focus in his already useless task.

*-*-*-*-*

No. Wrong. Trash. Piece of shit! Nothing came out right! At this point not even the sheets Wally rescued for him were useful anymore, as now they were part of a steadily growing pile of crumbled rejects all over the floor.

So now he just was there, head against the desk, swallowing back every urge to shout out loud even the deepest of the growls. Vain attempts that were interrupted by the delicate sound of the squeaking hinges of his door. He peeked over his shoulder and started to shot daggers to the unwelcomed visitor.

“So– so– sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but I can’t find–…” Wally stammered, feeling the scorching glare of the man as if was carving holes through his skull. He still wasn’t forgiven… “Ah… Nevermind, Mr. Lawrence. I’ll just look somewhere else. Sorry fer interrupting ya…” And with no more fanfare than a soft mournful murmur, he left.

The door closed softly and the steps of the janitor marching away were quiet. Sammy just watched him through his window, reaching to see the young man meeting with the projectionist at the end of the hallway. Some words were exchanged; a sag on the younger’s shoulders, lying his head on the elder’s chest, to finally be held on a side hug and be leaded out of sight by the taller man.

And as he watched, Norman’s words resonated in his mind again, turning him again thoughtful, for it to be turned in confusion, to it to be turned in anger again.

He had no time for such senseless shit.

He got back over his desk, rather abrupt must say, and he tumbled his empty mug down the table. Lucky him, it fell on the trashcan where a pile of discarded sheets lied. He lunged to pick it up, but a clinking sound caught his attention.

Wally’s keys…

*-*-*-*-*

Ugh, this was pointless! What a waste of precious time, and still can’t go and get a single. Fucking. Note written down. How could be so hard deciding between a F sharp and a G flat?

Worst of all, his head was starting to pound heavily. He really needed a coffee.

He straightened up in his chair, ready to call the janitor as he usually prepared his coffee around the noon (what kind of services did Joey put him on charge, he still didn’t understand). But he froze as he recalled the events of the day. Could he call him to ask him his usual just like that? And think on the matter felt like a punch to his pride, but something else clenched in his chest.

Deliberating, he almost made up his mind: if he wanted a coffee, he’ll need to go to the break room, meaning he’ll need to get out of his office… and that’s just aside of all those chit-chattering employees that always liked to meddle their noses in whatever wasn’t their business. Ah, he wasn’t in the mood to tolerate any of that. But in the other hand, if he didn’t he wouldn’t get his coffee, and gosh, he really needed it…!

…

Well, he better got through those bothering pests just for a while; luckily everyone noticing his mood there won’t be a soul who’d dare to do more than step out of his way.

And so he stood up, and reluctantly he abandoned his office.

*-*-*-*-*

“C’mon, Wally. We can’t help you if you don’t tell what’s happening!”

“Nothing’s happenin’, Ms. Campbell.” Wally answered quite monotonous. “Ya don’ need to worry yerself, but thanks for tha concern.” His smile was polite but notoriously strained.

He was cleaning the tables from the breakroom. It was soon to be noon and with it comes the lunch break and he was commanded to clean it all up before and after lunch there.

“But surely there’s something I could help, ain’t it?”

“I appreciate yer offerin’ but fer real. I just havetta end cleaning this up–…”

Everything went silent when the door squeaked open, and whoever was there doing whatever just froze at the sight of the music director. He stood up there, feeling their fearful but scrutiny stares, and he scorned in response, descending the flight of stairs.

“I– ah…” Wally stammered, but released a sigh. “I finished cleanin’. I��m outta here…”

Tilting his cap down once again, he picked up his cleaning tools and left the room rather quickly, nearly tripping over the musician but avoiding him at a safe distance in the end.

Sammy just looked at him, although too tired for glares this time. Shrugging it off, he made his way to get some coffee, being joined by Susie in the process.

“Rough day, eh Sammy?” She teased a little, but he just huffed. “Why don’t you stay and have lunch with us? It’ll help your soul! …You do have a soul, don’t you Lawrence?”

Although the musician was on the verge of fuming, he just limited to heavily sigh by his nostrils and turn to her with the most constricted face he could muster.

“My soul is pretty much contented with just coffee, thank you very much.” He turned and started to look around the counter. “Ugh, where is the cream? Isn’t there anything in this god dammed place?”

“What are you talking about?” She questioned as started to stab the jar of clustered sugar with her spoon. “With how cheap Joey is, we are pretty lucky to have sugar here! Although I’d like the guys stop to using their wet spoons when taking it. Gosh, this is so hard!” She hissed as she kept stabbing the jar, and when a few grains got stick to her spoon, she took it in her mouth and then kept stabbing. All under the watchful presence of the horrified music director.

Besides the display of shameless ill-mannered Susie, he couldn’t help the train of thoughts that flooded his mind. Wally always prepared his coffee with cream and two sugar cubes… Sure, the first time he told him as a joke that’s the way he drank his coffee, but he always made his cup that way since. How could he, if they barely had that watery coffee with taste of socks and that jar of stone they pitifully called sugar grains?

Susie stopped, seeing him frozen in spot, seemingly staring at the jar she held in her hands.

“You want some?” She offered and that seemed to take him off his thoughts, as he looked at her, then the jar, and then he shook his head with disgust and a new gruff.

“Forget it. I’ll just have it black.”

And after preparing it, he left.

*-*-*-*-*

Definitively didn’t worth it, that beverage tasted as bad as he thought: as sweat soaked socks. How he could recognize such flavor, better now question it too deeply, as it only made his already insufferable headache to worsen.

The only thing in his mind was to return to the comfort of his messy and littered and wet office as soon as he could. But when he was about to turn the corner leading to his office’s hallway, he couldn’t help but hear a distressed sob.

Curiosity poked and he stopped his pace; the mopping came from the recording room. He stood on the inner threshold, he could hear it, but no one was there. At least not that he could see.

“Why do I even keep tryin’? He hates me!” Was that Wally?

“No, he don’. You just found ‘im in the worst moment possible, that’s all kid.” Oh, so they were at Norman’s booth.

Sammy stayed close to the threshold, out of sight. What were they talking about?

“No, Mr. Polk. It’s not tha first time. Today was tha worst but…”

“Kid, with all honesty, he treats everyone like trash. It’s not somethin’ against you, I’m sure of that.”

Were they talking about him?

“But… but all I ‘ave done for ‘im? I just– keep tryin’ and tryin’ but I’m no more than a fly on tha wall for ‘im!”

“You know how oblivious he’s. An elephant could be dancin’ tap right next to ‘im and he wouldn’t notice! And if he do, prob’ly he would just shot daggers thru his eyes before even question why there’s an elephant in his office.”

Ok, he wasn’t that oblivious, although he’d never been in such situations to argue back. At least that last joke did make the young janitor to release a chuckle, albeit weak.

“Heh, yer probably right…” Silence, barely his hiccupping sobs could be heard. “I’m not like an elephant, do I?” He sounded fearful.

“Neh, you’re not. First place you’d need a trunk sticking outta your face!”

“Mr. Polk, ya know what I mean…!” Barely above a whisper, it was hard for Sammy to catch what he said; not impossible, just hard. But a tight silence followed that statement.

“…No, kid. You’re not…”

Knowing Norman’s personality only fluctuated between a bad timing jokester, easy-going, severe paternalist or straightly intimidating, it was strange to find him being so comprehensive and supporting– at least by what he could take by his soft and quiet voice.

He stood a little longer in there, but the only thing that broke the silence was the hiccupping sobs of the janitor. Sobs that were product of a distressed boy– man, that only was doing his job and had a little accident that actually was the musician’s crew fault!

Did he really shout that bad to him? By the time he already forgot what he said to the poor janitor. Was that bad? Was he so out of his mind to made him believe he hated him?

I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!

Oh, gosh… did he really said that?! No surprise he believed Sammy hated him. And Wally also said about things he tried before, what did he mean? What else had he tried?

Wait…

Why was he thinking all of this? Goddammit, Sammy. It’s not like it mattered!

But then why he felt his chest so clenched and his throat so tight?

Everything was so confusing and annoying!

Just annoying…

He gave a last glance to where the booth was located, and with a sigh and soft steps, he made his way back to his littered, soaked, messy office with a cold cup of watered, tasteless, sock-flavored drink that couldn’t even be called coff–

Between what he expected from what he remembered, what he found could be called having got into another dimension, one of tidiness, organization, even bright dimension. Every sheet of paper he discarded was taken away, and a new pile of blank sheets lied on his desk. There was no more a wet spot, but a spotless, clean and shiny floor. Even the keys he found earlier in the trash can were no longer there, taken. But what baffled the musician more was the steaming mug just in the middle of his desk; the cream still as a lump atop, slowly sinking in the beverage, and two bright sugar cubes aside, ready to be dropped in the hot drink.

Glancing between that mug and the one he brought from the break room, he slowly approached to his desk, taking seat and leaving the later next to the other. He dipped his pinkie in the steaming one; hot indeed, but the cream made it smooth. And the sugar… the only sugar the rest of the studio crew could get in here was from that clustered jar, so how was that he could have pristine sugar cubes? Or more like, if Wally was the one making it, how was that he had those…?

The brightly clean office, the new stack of paper, the steaming coffee…

He still made all of these things even when he believed Sammy hated him…

He shouted at him, he mocked of him, treated him like he was an idiot, an illiterate child, as if he was too dumb to notice anything around him, like how the world worked, how people worked…

…or more like how Sammy worked…

He slouched in his desk, clasping his hair tight in his fingers as he let the steam hit his face.

Norman was right. Wally didn’t deserve him.

*-*-*-*-*

Can’t say it got easier along the day, although he could manage to not drop a piece until the entire sheet was useless scrap and that actually made the littered pile– now appropriately thrown in the can instead the floor– to be smaller in the last 6 hours of works versus all he threw away in just the first three.

By the time most of the studio members were already gone, the ones remaining were just busy with the last tasks of the day.

Regardless, what Sammy was currently doing hardly could be called a task, as he remained thoughtful for nearly two hours already. He tried to distract himself with the music, with his compositions, but no avail, and these thoughts lingered in his mind shouting to be noticed, and so he did.

At this point he couldn’t even give himself the privilege to feel angry, irritated and frustrated over those ideas that didn’t leave him alone, as he was worn down, too tired to try even, and so those ideas just settled in him.

Not like he was going to admit it anyways…

A knock on his door and a jerk from his side due the suddenness; Norman was there.

“Hey Sammy, work time’s over.”

There were so many things that Sammy could answer, from his usual sarcasm with something like ‘don’t you tell me’, to just flip off his middle to the man with not even bothering to turn around. But his rage storm had simply worn him down, and now he barely gave a mute shrug as an answer, sinking deeper on his desk.

Norman glanced around. He knew Wally took his chance to clean up this office while the music director was out, but he had never seen it lasting almost as pristine by the end of the day. There were still crumpled sheets on the trashcan, but curious was that it was actually used as trash can instead of littering the whole floor as he did in the morning. It almost seemed like he was being careful about the work of the janitor.

“Huh, this place looks neat!”

“What do you want, Norman?” He finally snapped.

“Just makin’ sure how you doin’. You had a really tough day after all.”

“Sure that’s all…” He muttered and laid his head on the desk flatly. “Nothing else you want to mom me about?” Alright, he opened the chance to drop it.

“You should go and apologize with Wally.”

And despite his weariness, he couldn’t help the grunt to form in his throat as he turned to the man.

“Why do you care so much about that? It’s not like if you were his dad!” And the way Norman shook his head, so filled with disappointment, actually hit him hard.

“I wish I would be. That kid really ‘ave had a tough time.”

“Yeah, sure, because is so hard to swift a broom from side to side.” He turned back, quite ashamed even if he wasn’t going to admit it. Such answers were the ones that most naturally came even if he didn’t mean it by the time.

“I can’t believe you still don’ get it.” Norman finally walked in, and that cornered feeling was dreadfully palpable, even if the musician still refused to look at him. “After all this time, with all the things he done for you…”

“Where do you want to get with this?”

He paused his march, right behind of him. His towering shape projected a shadow that lunged over his reduced figure in the chair.

“Sammy…” The man swallowed hard, feeling the sweat trickle down his forehead. Why he felt so nervous over the projectionist? “Sammy, stop it.”

“Stop what?” He said back, albeit his voice betraying his so called steadiness.

“Just stop bein’ such an oblivious idiot and look at Wally for the first time in your damn life! Can’t you see the boy is dyin’ for you?”

As if a rope tied to his chest tugged him forcefully, he felt the air in his lungs abandoning him for an agonizing moment, as he shot up and shoved away his chair to turn and face the man standing behind.

He… wasn’t as close as he thought, but that look so full of disapproval still burned him coldly.

“Wha– what… do you mean?”

“Really still? Haven’t you noticed how he usually like to spend more time here ‘round, despite he’s the sole janitor in this whole goddamn place? Or how he seems to smile widely at you?”

“That means anything, he’s always smi–”

“What about that coffee that he always make for you? I saw you goin’ to the break room, you can’t be so blind to not notice there’s no cream nor fancy sugar cubes up there.”

Sammy kept his mouth shut, barely could stand that accusatory stare from the man in front of him.

“What about the way he always shrug off every time you mock of him or yell at him, givin’ you a smile and respondin’ to everythin’ you ask ‘im to do?” Norman kept talking, and Sammy couldn’t help but glance aside, casually seeing the aforementioned janitor getting into the organ room, pipe-cleaner in hand and his cap still tilted down hiding his frown. Sammy felt his chest tight, the weight of shame barely bearable. “That kid’s no dumb as you think he is, but he’s still willin’ to do anythin’ as long as he could see you around. But to be honest, I could think he’s a fool myself for bein’ so invested in you.”

Sammy side-glanced the man in his office, trying his best to straighten up his face but was too constricted to look natural.

“Why… are you telling me all this?” He hesitated, but asked anyways.

“Becos I’ve seen the boy. All this infatuation thing has gone since quite a time, longer than I got to know, and the more time it pass, the more he drowns with no knowin’ if his efforts really worth the shot– or shots. So I tell you, so you now can go and ground his mind where it has to be. So go! Tell ‘im you’re not interested, shatter his heart, I don’ really care. But the less the kid deserves is a closure, and only you can give it to ‘im.”

With that final statement, Norman left his office, walking away and out of sight. And once he was sure he was all alone again, he allowed himself to sit back in his chair, askew for shoving it and conveniently looking to the hall, where the door that lead to the organ was kept ajar, where the man the projections was talking about just a moment ago was located.

He hunched, gripping his head on his hands as once again those thoughts about the young janitor flooded his mind. The so many times he called him idiot, moron, stupid, too immature to understand, that he was too childish with that smile always stuck on his face, how he couldn’t understand how people worked…

…seemed like all of this time he was the one that couldn’t understand it…

Was he really such a disgusting person?

Why even would Wally like him… after all he had done to the poor kid…?

*-*-*-*-*

Wally was cleaning up the pipes of the organ. It was the best he could do by now as he waited for the people to finally leave the studio– and maybe then he could go and enclose him in a forgotten room and cry out loud what he had been bottling up the entire day. At least he knew this task was quite demanding, polishing the pipes in and out, taking off every bit of dust and the pipes would look as bright as new. Yeah, this would keep him perfectly busy–

The hinges squeaked open to then the door be pulled shut, eating away every bit of light right before the lights up were turned on. Steps behind; someone was approaching.

“Wally…” Oh, great. Just when he thought he could last until he left at least…

“He– hello, Mr. Lawrence!” He weakly greeted, not daring to turn behind as his eyes were already stinging. “Do ya need somethin’ I could help?”

“Actually…” Swallow back your pride, Lawrence! “I needed to talk to you…”

“Oh…” He muttered so eloquently, as he lowered his arms and gripped on the edge of the massive instrument. “And what is it?” He didn’t dare to look at him.

“I–…” A bite of his own tongue, hindering his speech. “I… I just…” C’mon, only two miserable words! “Ah! I’m sorry, ok? I shouldn’t have treated you that way. It was unfair and the accident wasn’t even your fault, and you… don’t deserve the way I treat you. I’m… I’m sorry…”

Deep and slow breaths, Franks. Deep and slow. Don’t quiver.

“…Thanks, Mr. Lawrence. I… accept yer apologize…” He managed to say rather flatly. But he felt him, he was still there. How long would he be able to resist…!

“Aren’t you gonna say something else?”

Oh, God. What he meant?! Say what?

“I, ah… I’m… sorry, Mr. Lawrence. I shoulda been more careful with all them stands and I–”

“No, not that! I already said that wasn’t your fault!” He cut him off, and Wally felt cornered. What did he mean? “Really, nothing to say?” What did he want?! “Could you at least turn around?”

Wally felt his blood run cold. Face him?! He couldn’t do that too quickly or else he would burst with all the emotions he had kept inside. So he took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes with his forearm’s sleeve, and slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back, never releasing his grip on the edge of the organ.

Well, there he was, albeit cap still tilted and shadowing his face.

“Take off your hat, please.” The janitor whimpered, as he knew it wasn’t a request but an order. He took it off, revealing finally his distressed countenance. “Really you have nothing to tell me?”

“I– I– I, ah, I’m… Mr. Lawrence, am so– sorry, but I ‘ave no idea of what–”

“Norman told me.”

Wally shot wide open his eyes, panic crawling up from the bottom of his stomach. He felt it, as his heart skipped more beats than he could notice and the air abandoned his lungs as if he received the worst blow he could ever resist.

“So?” He started to walk, getting close to him.

“Mi– mister Lawrence, please! No– no need to fuzz about it. I– it– it’s not what ya think!” He tried to placate, but with every step closer the more cornered he was. “I– it’s nothin’, for real! Please, I promise I don’ bother ya anymore!” He was standing right in front of him, an arm away. And he couldn’t control any longer the tears prickling down his eyes and the whimpered high pitch of his voice. “I– I– I’ll stay away from ya, I promise! But please don’ tell Mr. Drew, I know I’m disgustin’ but please I don’ wanna lose this job! I’ll stay away, I promise! P– please don’ tell ‘em, don’ tell anybody! I won’ bother you anymore but please–…!”

“Wally.” Sammy cut his rant off as he grabbed his hand… gently… “Wally, stop it. I didn’t come for it so don’t need to worry about it. I came to know…” He lowered his stare, fixing it onto the hand he was holding. “…to know if that’s true…” He looked back at him, and though his prominent frown never abandoned him, Wally could tell, even with his racing mind, that those eyes never had looked so… soft, even concerned.

The silence stretched for a while, and though the musician showed an amount of patience he had never done before, those eyes, soft, sweet, concerned, frown eyes still begged for an answer. But the janitor’s eyes were drowned in tears and his throat was tightly closed, so the only response he could give was a whimpering nod.

Sammy sighed, and his look wandered to anything around before returning to the young man’s face.

“Why…?”

He swallowed heavily, but his mouth was too dry still. “I– ah, I swear I don’ know. If even I could make it work right, dunno, looking for Ms. Campbell instead, but I–”

“That’s not what I’m asking!” He said rather louder, and the janitor flinched whimpering. Sammy recoiled, lowering his volume. “I mean… why… me? I… I haven’t treated you with anything but despise, insulting you and even making mock of you…! Why then?”

“I don’ know… I don’ know, I swear! I just… saw you tha first time and though–… I thought ya were–… I just… wanted to make ya happy somehow, I don’ know! I just–…” tears upon tears, his cheeks were a constant waterfall. His mind was already racing and his heart beating painfully with fear; how could he articulate what he never understood in first place?

“Wally…” Sammy called him; the weight of guilt and shame was already lead in his stomach, and seeing him so distressed didn’t do any favors to him. “Wally, stop crying…”

“I can’t…” his voice wasn’t above a whisper. “I can’t…! I can’t, I’m scared…!”

“Of what?” Silence, only interrupted by the janitor’s whimpering. “Why are you scared?”

“Of ya knowin’…! Knowin’ tha truth and tell ‘em! Of them thinkin’ I’m a deviant, a mistake! That ya– that ya’ll really– really hate me for this!” His sobs were cutting his voice, hiccups between his words. “That ya beli– believe I’m a– a freak! That ya– ya hate me for re–e–al!”

He couldn’t help it anymore, and his cry just burst with the same shock of a little child lost and afraid. His hand holding his cap was so tight that almost hurt, and he fought to not grip the other man’s hand as hard or worse. His legs were wobbly, he just wanted to plump himself right there and recoil to a dark narrowed corner, to be left alone with his grief. But Sammy didn’t allow it, not with the way he was looking, nor with the way he held his hand, nor with the way he reached with his arm behind him and pulled him in a tight hug, releasing his hand to be able to engulf him, pulling Wally’s head onto his shoulder and muffling his sobs as he stroked his hand on his hair, and trying hard to keep together all of those pieces the janitor was tearing apart from himself.

“Wally, no. I don’t hate you…” He never heard his voice so low and soft, and him talking so close to his ear made the goosebumps to mix with his already shivering body. “I can’t even think about it; with all you’ve done for me… but… I’m the one who can’t notice the elephant dancing…”

Wally barely could believe it; Sammy Lawrence, the Sammy Lawrence, tried to humor him! But albeit his efforts, he couldn’t do more than just sigh as a weak imitation of a laugh with a wobbling frown.

“The truth is…” The musician continued. “…that I… I really can’t get relationships… I just can’t…! Not even as a child, not even making friends. I always kept my mind straight forward and whenever I was teased about if someone liked me, I just booked it, just thinking that they were a bother. But now, with all that you’ve done for me, all you’ve been through for me and what Norman told me… I just… I can’t believe I’m so oblivious! And treating you the way I did… I’m so sorry I never had idea. I really am.”

They stood that way, Sammy making sure Wally would calm down eventually as he stroked his hand up and down through the janitor’s head and neck, even downer to his back. Time didn’t matter, he just wanted to make sure he’d be okay. And when he felt the young man’s hiccups recede and his shoulder no more damp than it already was, he pulled him away, enough to be able to see his swollen red and tired eyes, but keeping him close as he held him by his shoulders.

“Wally?” The man mentioned felt so tired, exhausted, he didn’t think he would be able to react to anything the music director could throw at him anymore; perfect instance to be dropped gently.

“’m okay, Mr. Lawrence…” He held the man’s wrist, ready to pull him off him when the bomb was dropped. “Thank ya. I really appreciate yer apologize and all ya been with me, for real, but… I know what comes now, so if ya–”

“You know?” Sammy questioned, not allowing him to drop his hands from his shoulders. “Franks, I didn’t come here to tell you a lousy story of why I don’t hang out with people. I didn’t come here to tell you a sad story of my childhood, nor I spent half an hour in my office trying to think of a way to tell you I’m sorry for you to just shrug me off in the end.”

Wally’s tears stopped from how dumbfounded he was. The idea of not being all opened a new race of thoughts as the same time he found himself frozen in spot, trying to articulate anything, mind begging for an explanation, but only able to mumble incoherently, fear rising up his throat as his eyes widened in growing panic. Signs luckily caught by the musician.

“Wally. Wally, stop it. I told you, I didn’t come for it. So better stop it and listen… please.” He added as trying to placate the sever tone he used to use, as he held the younger man steady. “Wally, I came… I just… What I’m trying to… Arg!” Sammy roared frustrated, tensing up and not noticing how tight his grip on the janitor’s shoulder was getting.

“Mir– Mister Lawrence, yer hurting me…!” He hissed as his knees wobbled, in the verge of bending as to escape the grip but unable as the musician held him on spot, almost pinned.

“It’s just… I… AGH! Iwanttogiveyouachance!” There, he said it. and as quickly as his words tripped out of him, he let go of the janitor and turned, mumbling through a hand that muffled his words– if there’re even words.

Wally had to pause to make an effort to process the phrase in its individual words. And even though he wrote and rewrote his sayings on his mind, it still didn’t allow him to take the weight of such sentence.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry, but–”

“It’s ‘Sammy’.” He interrupted, catching off ward the even more dumbfounded janitor. “Stop calling me ‘Mr. Lawrence’. I told you, I want to give you… a chance… You don’t have to keep the formalities.” Sammy added as he slowly tuned once again to the young man, standing on his statement as firm as he could. But seeing Wally broken on tears once again wasn’t what he expected. “Wally?”

“No… No, I can’t…!” He cried out muted, not allowing such statement to sink in him

“What? Why not? What do you mean?” He reached Wally’s arm but he shoved away, retreating until he hit the organ keys, shaking.

“This is wrong… This is wrong…! I can’t let ya, this is wrong!”

“Why are you saying that? Who says so?” He approached him, but Wally flinched as he shook his head in denial.

“Everyone… everyone says… they will talk, they will judge… they will tell Mr. Drew and then will be all for us! They will kick us out, that would be all for yer career, and I can’t let that happen!”

“Then they don’t have to know.” He finally held him, stopping his trembling head as he cooped his cheeks with both hand, gently forcing him to lock stares. “You are the best knowing what happens around and what not. No one will be able to say anything without you noticing.”

“That’s not how it works. The one they talk about always is the one who knows at last!”

“Then what about Norman? He knew and he didn’t say anything to anyone before. He knew about you and you do trust him, do you?” Sammy waited for Wally to nod at least. “Don’t you think he would alert you in case of anything?” Another jerked nod.

“It’s too much of a risk. Ya could lose everything!”

“Would I lose you?” The silence from the janitor stretched fearfully, only interrupted by his hiccupping sobs. “Would I?” Wally’s jaw clenched as his neck jerkily started to move side to side, prompting his head to shake in negative. “Then I’ll take the risk. I don’t want to see you wearing yourself for me and still acting like, like a jerk around you. You… don’t deserve that. And if this is what I should do to at least return a part of all you’ve done for me…” A pause; Sammy sighed flickering his stare and breathed deep, gathering his own courage as he locked his eyes on the janitor’s ones. “…then I want to be with you. And don’t start with all those things of ‘is wrong’ or ‘you can’t’ or ‘people’ll talk’. I’ve never gave a damn to what they say and I won’t start now. If you want to, we can keep formalities in public. But…” He released his wet cheeks as now he was looking for Wally’s hands to hold together. “…from now on, I want you to know that I’m with you, Wally. And better get that in your head ‘cos I don’t pretend to change my mind this far, got it?”

And he stood there, holding his hands as they got tighter and tighter on his grip, shaking as reflection of all the janitor’s body. Sammy studied him thoroughly, expecting any other sign from him that could replace his tears. But again, against anything expected, hiccups of a repressed cry started to leak from the young man’s throat.

And as Sammy’s unsteadiness grew, Wally let out his cry out loud, no more barriers holding it in, and bereaved wails broke through his vocal cords, all while he parted his grip on the musician’s hands and threw his arms around the man’s shoulders, clenching his fits around the back of his shirt, afraid of letting go, as if this very moment, this very man, could slip from his embrace and reality would come to mock of such a ludicrous fantasy of him. But no, he was real, he stood there, prevented him from fall back and over all that, he… accepted his feelings. He was willing to be together, to be with him.

“Hey, Wally, now what’s the problem?! I thought this would make you happy somehow? Why’re you still crying?” He asked puzzled and still quite reluctant to such unprompted contact.

“I– I do! I am! Sorry, it’s just… Sammy, I love ya so much; I’ve loved ya fer so long…! I can’t… please, tell me yer not lying, tell me this’ real! Please…!”

Love… the weight of that sole word suddenly made it feel way too much real for Sammy, whose thoughts and movements slowed as he tried to let that sink. Oh, gosh, he wasn’t just a silly infatuated boy, he meant it! How long had he been suffering this hard for him, if he even deserved such affection? That only made him feel more of an idiot than he already assumed; one thing was hear that from someone else not involved, but another entire level was to hear that from the main source. He… he really was deep down on his heels for him, and Sammy couldn’t give the chance to screw this.

“This… this is real, Wally.” He finally said quietly as his arms engulfed him too, comfortingly, reassuringly. “I’m not… I’m not lying, I’m with you now… I am for real…”

That was the last statement of the musician, allowing the silence be filled by the cries of his companion, which were slowly subsiding though he never let his grip to loosen. All the while he gently stroked his mess of a hair, careful of not tugging it too hard, and pressed his cheek against the janitor’s neck, somehow dumbfounded of himself as he never had been so gentle before, let alone touchy. But that only remained as a buzzing bug in the back of his mind, as new questions started to brim in the frontline, as what he should do to not mess this, or if he will ever be as deserving of so much affection as the young man invested in him, or what his natural fragrance would be under all those chemical smells he sported thanks to his job. Cinnamon and honey was the first thing in his mind albeit random as he really hadn’t felt such… was it too soon to smell and guess?

“Wally? Wally, my boy, where are you?” The voice of the head of the studio, so gleeful and charming as only a severe boss voice could sound, thundered from behind the door, making both of theme to go as still as statues, hoping for no intromissions in the room.

“Sorry, mister Drew, but he’s kinda bussy right now.” Norman voice intercepted the first one, to what both new lovers shared a glance full of concern.

“What do you mean? An hour has passed since work time’s over and still there’s a lot of things that left!”

“Didn’ you hear the rough day the boy had? He already did everythin’ else he had to, just give ‘im some time and I make sure he’s done with everythin’ else.”

Silence stretched but no footsteps; seeming like he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Until a sigh was heard.

“Will you make sure he’s done with all of his tasks? I don’t want him waddling around because some lost keys.”

“Don’ worry boss, I’m sure he’s already on check to do that.”

“Alright, I trust–…” He felt silent, why was that for? “Did… did Sammy leave already?” He questioned, seemingly having looked to the empty office.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s in the restroom. Y’know, too much coffee can really do effects inside if you don’t eat properly.”

Again the silence outside stretched, but inside Wally was fighting for retain his giggles in, earning a side glare from the foretold man that, curious enough, didn’t burn even half of what they used to.

“Alright, then remind Wally to go and check the toilets whenever he finishes, okay?”

The last part seemed to fade as footsteps joined to the outside noises, fading as they progressed and out of earshot finally, allowing them to finally break the silence.

“That’s a close one…” Wally released first, shaking fearful yet quite excited against the risk proximity.

“Yeah, luckily Norman was there to–…” Sammy halted in his words as realization hit on his self. “Does this… does this mean that Norman heard us all along?”

Wally stared at him, as confounded as him while he tried to process the statement, though swollen eyes didn’t allow him to focus properly.

“No, I wasn’t. I just passed by the last part of your chat tho, very movin’. Now, would you two lovebirds get outta there? I don’t think Joey will eat another ‘xcuse if you take any longer than already.”

The last part sounded faded, distant, but how quiet the projectionist’s footsteps used to be was hard to tell if he already left. Their only indicator was the silence reigning once again, one that was cut by the giggles of the janitor and a humorous roll of eyes from the musician.

“You know, now that I think so, is weird not having heard your laugh in the whole day. It really fills the spaces.” Sammy complimented as Wally earned a darker tone on his face, tenderly looking at the man. “Okay, we better keep moving before anyone else notices.”

He spun on his heels, ready to go, but a hand was trapped, laced with the other’s one. Wally’s giddy face had his stare lock on the act, cheeks still warm though no longer from the tears; and he walked to be right next to the man– his man, contemplating the height difference as his own chin barely reached his shoulder. His goofy smile, so pure and now incontrollable, raised along the rest of his features to see the music director’s eyes, so compassionate as never before, and even a lopsided smile creeped up to his face.

“Sorry, it’s just… I never thought this could really happen…!”

Sammy just watched him, watched as he never did before. And with eyes fluttering and lips puckered, he bent a little, enough to reach his cheek once again, only that this time giving a soft and tender kiss on his side, leaving the young man completely stunned.

“Well, seems like it is happening.” He humored right when he parted from his side, releasing his hand as well and walking towards the room entrance. “Now better get things done, Franks. If Joey already came once he surely will come back to check you have it all done. Understood?”

He stood still for a while, holding the doorknob but not quite opening it yet. He looked over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he gave the janitor a last glance. And with a contained huff, a slow close of the eyes and a tender smile, he gave a solemn bow with his head to his new couple before abandoning the room.

Wally couldn’t be more flustered.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

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