#and Sam is a much more self assured character

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

iirc I think you said you don’t like Trey and Malleus’s hair but somehow excuse Rollo’s hair 😨 so where does everyone else stand if you were judging them based only on physical appearance?

Disclaimers: I'm not including any Yuus (like, from the manga), mob students, reused assets (ie ghosts and pixies), or characters that we've only gotten the silhouettes for (that means no Mrs. Rosehearts, no Farena/Falena, no Zigvolt parents, etc.). I am only giving my thoughts on the looks of named characters with fully realized designs. If there is a significant variation of their hairstyle I like, I'll make note of it. Additionally, I will be commenting on general style rather than on individual outfits.

These are my opinions, please don't take them too seriously. I think all the designs work as is to convey the background and personality of each character, but everyone will have different tastes and preferences in terms of visual design; these are just mine! (And remember, just because I may like how a character looks doesn’t mean I like the character overall!!)

***PLEASE NOTE: This post contains spoilers for the main story and events that have yet to be released in EN!!***

Pretty

Jade - I'll admit that it took me a while to get used to his haircut (I typically don't go for the super short bangs), but it grew on me! I really like his face in particular; it can be very calm and pleasant but also mischievous and sinister. When he's angry or upset, it's much more subtle and hard to read in his face. That's something I can really appreciate. It all works very well with his neat, tidy, and unassuming appearance.

Jamil, Najma - THE VIPER FAMILY HAS SUCH GOOD GENES, just look at their luscious hair and mysterious, dark eyes... They dress so well too, I love all the hair accessories and flowy fabrics the Viper siblings have.

Meleanor - Malleus's mom has got it goin' on 🙃 She really kills the warrior princess look! Very imposing, yet elegant. I can totally understand why Lilia used to crush on her.

Fellow - Not usually a fan of gingers (and nor do I simp for fox man), but there's just something so charming about Fellow's face. I think it's the eyes and his self-assured, fun-loving smile. His outfit's snazzy and he makes it work so well! I especially like the cravat, spats, and the cape hanging off one shoulder.

Cool

Leona - OKAY FINE I'LL ADMIT HE'S HANDSOME, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW????? 😭 As much as I want to wrestle Leona, I have to admit that he has a very striking face (especially when he smirks) and powerful presence. He knows how to command a room (and he’s just about the threshold of muscle I’m willing to accept). I'm not really into hair past shoulder length or how he usually dresses, but what I think is the coolest about him are his eyes. It feels like they'll follow you everywhere. Ponytail Leona is the best Leona, in my opinion.

Ortho - I was debating between putting Ortho in "Cool" or "Cute", but ultimately went with "Cool" because he by far has the most unique look of the entire cast. I love learning about his different Gears and their functions, each one different than the last. I don't find the pale skin and blue hair as off-putting on Ortho as I do on Idia, and I think that's because Ortho's more child-like.

Crowley - His aesthetic is nice! I find the bird mask really goofy and his hair a literal rat's nest (DON'T @ ME, IT LOOKS LIKE LIMP SEAWEED), but his suit and cape are so dapper! All the keys and mirrors would look gaudy on any other character, but they fit so well for Crowley. The extra shiny details give him an air of mystery, like threads of light peeking through the dark.

Trein- Trein's robes and cravat make him look so classy and regal! The colors also remind me of Edgeworth from Ace Attorney-- He looks very stern at first glance, but when he gives his little smiles you can tell how much he really cares.

Sam - He's way overdressed for running an on-campus school general store but hey, it works for him. There's lots of little details I enjoy in his design, from the stitching on his top hat to the locs he sports.

Cute

Lucius, Grim - LIL' KITTY CATS 🥺 I especially think Grim is adorable whenever he gets a new themed bow or a whole ass outfit like in the Halloween events!

Chenya - His haircut is so uneven but I commend his style. Chenya's look isn't too busy; his jewelry and decorative patches are spread out so they don't crowd for your attention. Gotta love those callbacks to Alice in Wonderland! This might sound weird, but there's power in his plain white shirt half-buttoned and loosely tucked into his pants; it gives the right amount of casualness to feel "accidentally stylish". There's also just something really whimsical about how cat-like his facial expressions and gestures are. It's quite endearing!

Ruggie - His hair looks perfect for ruffling! The fact that he often dresses in hand-me-downs and Leona's oversized clothing makes him appear "small" and even cuter. Pair that with Ruggie's crooked little smile, and it's perfect. I like that his build is lankier than those of the other Savanaclaw students; it makes him appear less intimidating on an initial evaluation.

Cheka - Have you SEEN Cheka?????? How does your heart not melt at the sight of him 😭 I adore his little :3 face and how he shines when he's innocently asking Ojitan to hang out with him...

Floyd - I feel like I kind of have to put Floyd in "Cute" since he's Jade's twin. Floyd just places lower because I find his eye shape less cute and his personal style doesn't really align with my tastes.

Kalim - This type of hair isn't usually my jam, but Kalim dresses it up well with a headband/scarf (?) and jewerly. When he moves, I imagine that the jewelry is jingling its own song. Kalim always seems to be smiling, so just looking at him puts me in a good mood too. His fashion choices tend to be extravagant and not very viable for everyday wear, but it's fine as long as Jamil stops him from making impulsive decisions.

Rook - I actually don't like his bob (I prefer it in an awkward little ponytail), but his face--especially the mouth--is beautiful. I BEG OF YOU, LOOK AT HIS CEREMONIAL ROBES GROOVY. Rook can be so expressive, it's like he's a one-man play. Alas... He looks naked without a hat :(( but I appreciate the mystery of covering up his limbs for the most part so we can’t see how truly muscular he is.

Lilia - Peepaw really stands out from the rest of Diasomnia; he doesn't come off as scary right away, he just relished in how adorable he is and is confident in that. Lilia's shorter stature and more experimental style certainly plays into that uniqueness too. It's fun to see what he comes up with! I especially love that he wears more traditionally feminine things like tulle skirts and gathered fabrics, and even dyes his hair and paints his nails in various colors. The cut itself is a bit of a clusterfuck when I first saw it, but I've really grown fond of it over time. It's such a bright expression of who Lilia is. I can't say if I prefer his long ponytail or the shorter trim; both are good!

Sebek - Like Jade, Sebek is also very well-put together. I like him with both his hair up and down; each has its unique appeal! With his hair up, Sebek appears much fiercer. With his hair down, he reminds me more of a puppy drenched from the rain. I feel like even though his face can be menacing, his smile overpowers how scary he can be. It feels so pure, clashing with his usual attitude... (His pathetic/sad expressions are also cute, but don't let him know I said that.)

Marja - Sweet granny... She looks so kind and cozy, I just wanna give her a hug.

Rollo - I’m a bowl cut apologist, what of it 😭 I like how he's so straight-laced and proper in his dress. It goes together with his face very well. Moreover, the dark eye bags and pinched, stern mouth only add to his charm. Rollo can go from neutral to devious smirk to a flash of anger--it's so interesting to observe how his face contorts.

Gidel - He looks like a mix of Ruggie and Cheka, so by default Gidel goes in "Cute". His oversized sleeves, patchwork pants, and mismatched socks give him such character!

Dylla - ANOTHER ATTRACTIVE MOM!!! Her clothing is more on the tomboyish side, but she still wears them well. Dylla's face in particular is really stunning; I get a mature big sis vibe from her.

Mid

Ace, Deuce- The most generic hair styles of the entire cast. I don’t have much else to remark on.

Azul - I don't know how else to say this, but I think Azul is handsome but in heavily regulated manner... to the point where it doesn't feel natural?? Like yes, he obviously cares about his appearance, it just feels "too" controlled of a narrative to me. The same goes for his smiles. Like Eliza says, he does it too much, so it feels fake.

Neige - He's wearing such an ugly sweater, but the innocence of his face evens things out. I find Neige cute in that generically sweet way, and for that I cannot place him higher than "Mid".

Epel- Same "generically sweet" cuteness as Neige. I do like his colors though.

Silver - Also has very generic hair. I disagree with the notion that he's handsome or has a noble constitution (even if the game itself says otherwise). Silver just looks like Some Guy to me. I’m slightly put off by the super muscular arms in his PE uniform too.

Eliza - I think Eliza could be a lot more appealing if they hadn't presented her to us in such a different style. Like the generic ghost NPCs, she's drawn more like a western cartoon rather than like an anime so she feels "off" from the rest of the named cast. Because there isn't unity between her and the characters she is shown with, Eliza sticks out like a sore thumb. I gotta hand it to her though, she still slays in that tattered wedding dress.

Fairy Queen - Love how the buns in her hair resemble roses, and how her entire body looks like it's golden and glowing from within. I wish her dress was more detailed though, more fitting for a queen.

Don't Like, but Could be Worse

Riddle - ROACH ANTENNAE........ . .. ... . . .... . ...... . .. . . . .. .... . .. Oh, and he looks so funky when he gets all red in the face.

Vil - For as much as we're told he's beautiful, I don't find Vil's brand of beauty to be digestible. He comes off too strongly, if that makes sense??? 20 cm heels, face beat to the gods with makeup, carrying himself at all times like there's a camera pointed at him and he has to pose 24/7 (look at most of his groovies)... It's hard for me to get behind that, it feels too overwhelming.

Seven Dwarves - I find most of the dwarves way too cartoonish, and not in a cute way. I think the only design I genuinely find okayish is Timmy (the timid dwarf).

Ambrose - He's an older gentleman in his wizard Halloween costume. I find his design sort of... generic??? But I'm knocking him down a little because I also find his overall appearance to be goofy and unflattering.

Idia - I DON'T CARE WHAT THE MAGICAL ARCHIVES OR ELIZA SAY, MAN LOOKS LIKE A WALKING CORPSE AND THAT AIN'T CUTE 😭

Shroud parents - Cool helmets, but I wish we actually got to see their faces.

Baul - I find Sebek's hair color more pleasing to the eye. Baul has a lot of other elements that Sebek doesn't (due to Baul being full fae and Sebek being half), and I find that they overcomplicate his design. It's hard for me to focus on his face because there's just so much to take in, from the scaley beard and more voluminous hair to the fangs and pointed ears.

Dawn Knight - This is the "bro, can I copy your homework" / "sure, but be sure to change it a little so the teacher doesn't notice" meme. I wish the Dawn Knight wasn't just long-haired, recolored Silver (with the exact same voice actor too). I would place the Dawn Knight in "Mid", but that armor is not doing him any favors. It's way too excessive with all the wings.

Crewel - His mostly monochromatic color scheme with splashes of crimson is cool, but I'm not into his clothing or even his hair. It's very jarring to see his hair and vest color blocked, and I don't find his big flashy fur coat appealing.

Kifaji - The big brows and the really long goatee make me go "???"

Actively Dislike

Trey - His hair reminds me of a freshly mowed lawn. Trey's design is otherwise inoffensive to me, but that hair color and cut are bringing him down so much. The only memorable thing about how he presents are those rare moments when he whips out his one brow raised smirks, and even then I think he looks slightly silly and it's hard to take him seriously.

Cater - Again, it's the hair for me. I like it better when it's all down (like in his Club Wear card). In his usual hairdo, there's a middle segment that's weirdly pulled back from the rest of his face in a... scruffy ponytail??? That really bothers me. I don't vibe with his usual style of dress or how he presents himself either, it's a bit too... lax?? (I know I said the same thing about Floyd, but he looks similar to Jade and therefore gets a pass).

BURN WITH FIRE

Jack - He commits the sin of having a confusingly styled mullet and has a muscular physique which don't bode well for my tastes. I guess he does have those "looks intimidating, but is actually a softie at heart" vibes going for him, but I just cannot look past the haircut I'M SORRY.

Malleus - I'm not into super pale emo/goth guys, and Malleus somehow presents as even more of that than Idia. He dresses in mostly black (and while there is a lore reason for this, that doesn't make me like the color any more or less), has a sort of mopey face (I guess it's supposed to be elegant, but I don't perceive it as that), and dear god that haircut and the ashy grey lips… It doesn’t help that the expressions he makes (particularly on his birthday cards) give really strong “are u lost bby ghorl” energy and that weirds me out 💀 So many things about him just don't work for me.

Vargas - Too muscular. Also not a fan of facial hair or athletic wear. Vargas doesn't seem to have a very keen fashion sense either, judging by the outfits he put together for his camp events.

Heinrich - His face is very grotesque and twists into making some of the most comedically evil and smug expressions I've ever witnessed in all of TWST.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Octavinelle #Heartslabyul #Diasomnia #Savanaclaw #Scarabia #Ignihyde #Pomefiore #NRC Staff #Grim #Chenya #Che'nya #Neige LeBlanche #Rollo Flamme #Gidel #Fellow Honest #Najma Viper #Dylla Spade #Kifaji #Cheka Kingscholar #Marja Felmier #Papa Shroud #Mama Shroud #Meleanor Draconia #Baul Zigvolt #Baal Zigvolt #Bal Zigvolt #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

[cvntyworld]

Can you do until dawn characters x reader dating headcanons like what they’re like when they’re jealous (thank you!!)

green eyed monster ( the until dawn gang )

summary: until dawn characters and what they are like when they're jealous while dating you.

contents: usual until dawn shenanigans, jealousy, angst if you squint, mild language, fluff, insecurities, the twins are not included as there isn't much content abt them, ect...

SAM GIDDINGS

The greenest flag ever, so when she does tend to get jealous, which is rare, she usually smiles through it so you don't think anything is wrong.

She often puts others above herself so she tries to get rid of any feelings of jealousy rather quickly because it doesn't feel right to be jealous and she often feels as if she's being stupid.

If her jealousy tends to build up, she'll be mature and tell you about how she's feeling because that's much easier than trying to hide it.

She's rarely jealous because of her pacifist ways and is more often to work through those feelings with you as your girlfriend rather than let them simmer.

JOSH WASHINGTON

He'll most definitely hide his jealousy behind jokes or a change in subject because he definitely does not like it when talking about his feelings.

Lets his insecurities about your relationship simmer in his head until he's firing back as a default, trying to get you to be the jealous one for once but it never worked in his favour.

Building a wall to hide how vulnerable he feels about it and trying to lock you out of his mind, until he gives in to your persistence and tells you what's wrong.

Feels as if it makes him weak to feel jealous and needs assurance that jealousy isn't a weakness, it just shows how much he cares despite his doubts.

EMILY DAVIS

When this girl gets jealous she lets it be known, loud & clear, not just to you but to everyone. This girl is not a pushover so she'll let it be known how she feels about her jealousy, even if it isn't in the most kind way, girl is very blunt and straight to the point.

While she may act confident about it, it's really just an immature front to hide how she truly feels, she'd been betrayed in the past before by her bestie and her ex so she's pretty careful about who she grows close to and doesn't want to be hurt again.

Emily often tries to deflect the situation, changing the subject or going on a shopping spree and buying a lot of expensive things in hopes to win you over, but she's always insecure you'll grow tired of her.

What she doesn't know is that you don't need to have expensive clothes given to you as presents or have her acting a lot nicer than usual out of fear she'll lose you, you love her just the way she is.

MATT TAYLOR

The biggest sweetheart who tends to go into a rather sour mood when he's jealous, he'll close off and won't be his usual chatty self.

His jealousy usually doesn't last long but he does try & communicate how he's feeling even when it isn't in the best ways sometimes, he'll build up courage and try to put his feelings into words but then backtracks.

Usually all he needs is a little assurance and he's back to being his usual happy self, Matt doesn't really hold grudges or resentment, he's way too kind-hearted for that type of behaviour.

What makes him even happier is when he sees you at one of his football games, cheering him on with a big smile and his mind is at rest with his doubts.

ASHLEY BROWN

When this girl is jealous, she'll often feel embarrassed about being jealous to begin with. She usually looks at the big picture of things but when it comes to you her mindset is thrown out the window.

Usually gets rather sensitive and teary when it comes to her jealousy, which also drives a mean streak that's reared its ugly head a few times.

Often overreacts to her jealousy and ends up bursting out how she's truly feeling which ends in you calming her down. After a conversation with you she feels her relationship is more secure.

To make her day better, you'll probably buy her some books or plan a day out together to cheer her up and she greatly appreciates it and you.

CHRIS HARTLEY

Often feels embarrassed to be jealous and starts to doubt your relationship, thinking that you might just be with him out of pity.

Starts to act rather awkward around you to hide the fact he's jealous but it instead makes it more obvious that he is.

Tries to dismiss how he's feeling when you ask him if he's jealous and immediately caves and tells you how he's feeling and why he's feeling this way.

Apologizes for his feelings of jealousy and you have to tell him he's got nothing to be sorry for and that you're happy to be with him and that nobody else even came close to him.

JESSICA RILEY

Her insecurities make her doubt your relationship and question if she's actually important to you, often feels sad about her jealousy and shields herself with a little argument or a dumb facade.

While she appears confident, she's conflicted inside as she wants to tell you how she's feeling but is worried it will set back your relationship.

Eventually, you know something is up and ask her to tell you what's bothering her and she does after a few nudges to explain what's wrong. When she does, she's worried you'll laugh or reject her but all you do is take her hand and smile and assure her.

Feels more secure and confident in your relationship and knows she can come to you about any worries if she has them and knows that she can trust you with her feelings.

MIKE MUNROE

He isn't the type to get jealous but when he does, he can start to have a bit of a pissy attitude and not just towards you but to everyone.

Usually, he brushes off any jealousy by being rather suggestive towards you but it doesn't always work in his favour, usually you'll leave him hanging until he's forced to tell you what's wrong.

You always try to reassure him he's got nothing to be jealous of but he'll shrug it off and dismiss it, he's not one to talk about his feelings.

He usually gets over his jealousy on his own and is an immediate grinning bastard again, but he knows that you'll listen to his worries whenever he decides to get in touch with his feelings and talk to you.

#until dawn #until dawn x reader #sam giddings x reader #josh washington x reader #emily davis x reader #matt taylor x reader #ashley brown x reader #chris hartley x reader #jessica riley x reader #mike munroe x reader #until dawn game #supermassive games #until dawn fanfic

[lovesickbrat]

Bunny by Mona Awad (Spoilers!!!)

okay so bunny by mona awad succeeded in areas I think my year of rest and relaxation by otessa moshfegh failed in which she created a satire that actually had something to say. the way awad deals with the concepts of loneliness (both incidental and self inflicted), female friendships, class and the pretentiousness of New England college culture actually feels purposeful. and the reason I compare it to moshfegh is because both books are satires with unlikeable protags but while moshfegh is too busy kissing her own ass and hiding behind “oh all art is apolitical” bc shes to scared to admit that she actually cares about the topics shes talking about, awad cares very deeply about what she’s writing which made it unsurprising to see she based it on her own experiences at brown university.

Samantha is not the most likable character and you’re either gonna cone away from the book hating her and her pity parties or deeply understanding why she throws them (especially if you read her as a woman of color like I did). there’s a constant theme of her being obsessed with her own otherness and its true especially when you consider (Spoiler) She created her best friend Ava from a swan in the pond . Ava is Samanthas ideal friend but also the ideal form of herself: cool, self assured and beautiful. If Ava is the good part of herself, then Max is the bad. Her dark thoughts, negative impulses and hatefulness. But he is also how she sees herself as well, or at least what she thinks Ava would find attractive, he’s smooth, attractive in a dangerous way, poetic without being pretentious (he’s a literal vessel for her to say what she feels about Ava all of which is written in her diary) and what I think is very very important he can fuck Ava. Something the bunny-boys couldn't do.

there's also the sense of how we lose ourselves in our friends, as female friendships tend to be all consuming to the point we really do melt into a hive mind and I think even the friendship with Ava is tinged with co-dependency. Samantha dehumanizes the Bunnies calling them by nicknames she gave them, robbing them of agency because of their perceived perfectness but once she is invited to the Smut Salon she begins to call them by their real names until finally in honestly the most disorienting section of the book they all become Bunny, to the point its hard to tell who is talking and I loved that I wish we got more of Sam as a Bunny.

the atmosphere and aesthetics of the novel were so fun a candy colored dark academia where we even see that the bunnies also put on airs around each other like how Kira’s voice deepens when she thinks shes alone, no longer concerned with sounding like. bunny. I like how each of the women have a genre assigned to their writing and personal style showing how even though they are indistinguishable from each other, they were their own people beforehand but they allowed themselves to get sucked into a vacuous pretentious bubble.

the commentary on class was great, especially with how sam is said to be too obsessed with being poor to have been poor her whole life and I think thats a very accurate representation of someone who's financial status has been precarious for much of her formative years and why despite herself shes so intrigued by the bunnies and feels out of place in her writers cohort. rich people love to blow smoke up each others asses, which allows the bunnies to write horrible work because at the end of the day they’re rich it doesn’t matter they're never gonna have to improve themselves. its also why sam feels reluctant to speak her true feelings on their work because she doesn't have anyone to rely on lest she gets ousted

the usage of the all female writing cohort with the singular teacher was a great nod to the secret history honestly the whole book was

I loved how it was a creation horror story as well as coming of age the horrific parts were truly gross and the way the cannibalize themselves (metaphorically) towards the end was satisfying as fuck

and a lot of ppl hate the ending but sam choosing Jonah was honestly cathartic, she isn't healed things aren't sweet and nice but she makes a connection with someone who has been reaching out to her instead of being obsessed with her own otherness

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #bunny mona awad

[ladylilithprime]

Title: Diplomatic Measures

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sastiel, Sabriel, eventual CaSaBriel

Rating: General

Word Count: 5095

Summary: Sam Winchester was taking a Saturday breather to read just for the enjoyment of it when a pair of no longer dead Angels come calling with an offer he absolutely could refuse but doesn't want to.

Tags/Warnings: Post-Series Pre-Finale, Discussion of Previous Major Character Death, References to Past Trauma

Created For: SPN Pro-Ship Bang / @spnproshipbang

Author: LadyShadowphyre / @ladylilithprime

Artist: sidewinder / @hawkland

Read on AO3 | Official Art Post

ON A TYPICAL Saturday, or really any day of the week when the residents of the old bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, were home and not off to some other corner of the country on a case, Sam Winchester could usually be reliably found sitting in the bunker's library and one or more of the lore books in his hands. Sometimes it was research for a case, sometimes it was updating records after a case, but frequently it was just reading for the sake of learning. The Men of Letters had some fascinating research, as well as some terrifying research, and even the fiction books they chose to include were a lot less fiction than the majority of the human population believed. While Dean was much more comfortable spending his downtime in more obviously fictional media when he wasn't spending some quality time tuning up the Impala, Sam found the real fantastical to be just as engaging and, he hoped, more helpful down the line in their field of work.

He had just settled in with a book about faeries, privately wishing that he and Dean had had access to this book years ago, when the stillness of the library was interrupted by the unfamiliar familiarity of wingbeats. Given the wards on the bunker and the fact that the alarms didn't even flicker, Sam was able to keep his sudden burst of alertness from turning into true alarm, but he was still putting down his book and halfway through reaching for a weapon by the time the winged visitors spoke.

"Sam--"

"Hey, Samalam--"

The two angels stopped and eyed each other uncertainly as Sam processed what he was seeing, weapons forgotten. It was Gabriel, looking stronger and healthier than he had been the last time Sam remembered seeing him, standing with a self-assurance that Sam hadn't seen from him since that fraught confrontation in a mystical hotel what felt like a lifetime ago. Beside him stood Castiel, looking younger than he had, physically much like he had appeared when they had first met despite the more at ease posture, as if the years of hardship and Falling and being human had been wiped away from his vessel without touching the mark those years had left upon the angel himself.

And they were here. Alive.

"Is it okay to hug you both?" Sam blurted out, already rising from his chair. Even if they said no, anything that had two previously dead and newly resurrected angels showing up in front of him was probably going to require standing, but damn if Sam didn't really, really want to hug them.

Castiel was the first to open his arms, no doubt because he was the more used to offering and receiving hugs when it involved Sam, but Gabriel was quick to do the same. Two long strides had Sam close enough to hug them, one arm going around each angel and feeling the solid weight of them both along with the familiar zip and crackle of Grace just beneath the surface. Gabriel tensed up a little at first, but he relaxed surprisingly quickly, melting into Sam just as much as Castiel was. Sam let himself indulge in just getting to hold them both for a long moment, reimprinting the scent and sound and feel of them both, physical and metaphysical.

Eventually, when he had managed to convince his brain that this was real and both Castiel and Gabriel were really here, Sam made himself loosen his grip on the pair. The slackened hold drew twin sighs from the angels, and neither of them appeared to be in a hurry to pull away, so Sam made himself ignore that insidious little voice trying to tell him he shouldn't be forcing the angels to endure contact with him and let his hands settle on their shoulders as he drew back enough to see their faces.

"So, uh, in case it wasn't obvious, I'm very glad to see you both," he said, swallowing down the lump of emotion that kept trying to form in his throat.

Castiel's expression brightened, apparently glad of the verbal confirmation despite the hugging, and Sam mentally resolved to reinforce the idea that the angel was welcome for as long as he could be there. Gabriel's expression, however, underwent a rapid shuffle through several different emotions too quickly for Sam to follow before settling on concerned. "What's wrong?"

Sam blinked. "Nothing? Well, I mean, there's probably something going wrong for someone somewhere, but I don't know about it."

"That is good to hear," Castiel offered, glancing at Gabriel, who frowned.

"Nothing's wrong?" Gabriel repeated, glancing around the room. "Where's Dean-o, then?"

"In the garage giving the Impala a spa day," Sam answered, lips twitching at the smacked-with-a-fish expression that crossed Gabriel's face. "Full wax, leather conditioning, and detailing. I stopped listening when he started muttering about finding the tiny brushes. Did you want me to go get him, or...?"

"Perhaps later," Castiel said, when Gabriel continued to just stare. "While I am sure Dean would appreciate being informed of our renewed existence at some point, now is perhaps not the best time to invite the inevitable awkwardness and shouting."

"So long as you don't leave it too long," Sam cautioned, before fixing Castiel with a stern look, "And seriously, Cas, you gotta quit using 'I love you' to mean 'goodbye', dude. That was the third time! He's developing a complex about it."

"Kinda thought that would've been reason for you to go to Dean first, bro," Gabriel drawled, eyeing Castiel in a way that made Sam very aware of a second conversation going on beneath the spoken words, and of the way neither angel had let go of him any more than he had released them.

"The awkwardness of dealing with the aftermath of how I left things with Dean is precisely why I chose not to seek him out first," Castiel said evenly. "While I would hope he would know better than to misconstrue the meaning behind my words at the time, unlike so many of our siblings, speaking with Dean about emotional topics is... delicate."

"And will probably require alcohol," Sam chimed in with a sigh. "He's getting better about it, but then we're both still sorting out exactly how much of ourselves is really us rather than how Chuck wrote us to be."

They had already noticed certain differences. Sam still focused more on eating healthy and avoided certain foods, but Dean was less resistant to the vegetables that became increasingly present in their meals. Sam, too, had noticed that he had less aversion to baked goods, and had even managed to pull up some of Jess's recipes from the far corner of his laptop hard drive to start baking again. The grief was still there, but it bit at him less sharply without Chuck prodding the wound for his entertainment.

"So, you two had a reason to come find me specifically?" he asked, forcefully dragging the conversation away from that road for now. Castiel and Gabriel exchanged another heavy look, and Sam heard the faint rustle of feathers. "And I take it everyone's wings have been restored, since you flew in here?"

"We probably should have knocked," Castiel murmured.

"Guests knock," Gabriel argued. "We're still residents, or at least I assume so since the wards didn't kick us out."

"You're both still keyed into the wards," Sam confirmed, mentally shying away from the reason for that. No use unkeying someone who's dead, and no reason to put up anti-angel wards with Jack having promised to keep Heaven's business contained to Heaven. Which brought him back to why Castiel and Gabriel were here. "Animal, vegetable, mineral, celestial, or infernal?"

"What?" Gabriel blinked, just as Castiel said, "Celestial. Partially animal."

"Okay, then... human, angel, vessel, or nephilum?" Sam followed up. At Gabriel's slightly strangled noise, he added, "There's only so many situations that can be attributed to both celestial and animal, and intent to be hands off or not I kinda figured Jack knows Dean and I are willing to be on-call for the things that slip through the cracks. Technically."

"There should not be any further instances of angels taking human vessels," Castiel said at length. Gabriel grimaced, but nodded.

"Kid wasn't wrong about how skeevy and disruptive it is," he said, sighing. "While the practice was originally meant to allow angels to have the counsel of their vessel's life experience and cultural understanding when down here on assignment, that part of the deal apparently got deliberately forgotten when Mike and Raph started ramping up the early Apocalypse in favor of just using the human's soul as a back-up battery for their own power. Even the angels like Cassie here who tried to learn about human culture anyway didn't always understand what they learned. So now, any angels who're gonna be spending a lot of time on Earth get custom-tailored vessels. Ta-da!" he added, with an eyebrow wiggle.

"I thought you were a little taller than I remembered," Sam teased lightly.

"Just because you grew up to be a Samsquatch," Gabriel started, breaking off with a grunt when Castiel shifted very slightly. He gave the seraph an incredulous look. "Did you seriously just--"

"It felt both appropriate and pertinent," Castiel interrupted dryly. Returning his attention visibly to Sam, he went on, "As you no doubt suspect, creating a custom vessel that does not need to be sustained by a human soul but will also hold up to the strain of containing the essence of an angel - or Archangel - is a rather energy-intensive and time-consuming process. To that end, those of us who had previously maintained a lengthy and consistent presence on Earth were given priority to allow us to establish ourselves and create an appropriate orientation center for any other angels required to be on Earth interacting with people. And yes, I am aware of the irony of my being considered most knowledgeable in how to interact with people," he added.

"Don't give yourself so little credit, Cas," Sam said, squeezing the seraph's shoulder gently. "For having had to figure it out largely on your own with only what little, inconsistent help Dean and I have been, you've done an amazing job. And I'm sorry we weren't better help to you when you needed us most."

"Extenuating circumstances," Castiel excused delicately, no doubt not wanting to bring up Gadreel and Dean's complicity in the deception and Castiel's banishment from their sides. Gabriel was looking less than happy but unsurprised, which probably meant he had either been informed about the situation or was reading Sam's mind. To test that, Sam quickly cycled his thoughts through the latest of Jess's recipes he'd been looking at, which caused Gabriel to hum and Castiel to look abashed. "Apologies, Sam. Our current situation and continued proximity is making it difficult to respect your mental privacy as much as we all would usually prefer."

"I'll let it slide for now," Sam murmured, catching the implication. "You were saying?"

"Yes, well," Castiel's eyes darted to the side away from Gabriel before going back to determinedly meeting Sam's. "Part of establishing ourselves on Earth and creating an orientation center is finding appropriate human partners. To help keep us in touch with the culture about which we are meant to instruct our brethren when they come down." He shifted, and Sam felt the hand the seraph still had resting on his back curl to grip his shirt. "While the nature of this partnership and the accompanying bond is not required to be romantic or sexual in nature, I trust you understand why I would choose to broach the subject with you first before speaking to your brother."

"Um," Sam managed intelligently. Yeah, he could understand why Castiel might want to hold off on talking to Dean about something like that, especially with the mention of a bond. It was hardly a secret that Dean had issues with intimacy and commitment, and after so many years and a bored God making them dance around for his amusement it was safe to say that Dean's issues had issues. Sam, at least, had been "lucky" enough to be the consistently emotionally self-aware one between the two of them and so had less of his own psychology to actively question or attempt to rewrite. Hearing words like "partnership" and "bond" didn't cause Sam the same level of panic he knew Dean would feel.

Nor was it at all unexpected that Castiel would choose to come to them to form those bonds, however undeserving they might feel of being chosen. Eleven years was a long time for a human, and Castiel's perceptions of time and humanity had undergone several changes during those eleven years. His attachment to the Winchesters had also undergone changes, but had remained fairly constant despite Naomi's best efforts, or so Castiel had told Sam once. It didn't surprise Sam that Castiel would come to him and Dean for such a partnership. It barely surprised him that Castiel would come to Sam first.

What did surprise him was Gabriel.

"Hell, Sambala, it's not like I spent a lot of time hanging out with a bunch humans knowing who and what I am," the Archangel huffed, avoiding his eyes when Sam looked at him. "You and Deanmeister are pretty much the closest I've got to friends left down here. Sure, I could probably go out, find someone to hook up with, but whether I could actually open up to them enough to bond like that... At least you know the history I've got, and if you say no then I'm no worse off than before."

"I see," Sam mumbled. And he did see. There was a lot of drama and upheaval and tragedy in Gabriel's history, things that made it difficult to open up to people. Sam had been there for some of that history, or been there for the aftermath and heard the stories. They had a connection, had since that case years ago in Ohio where Gabriel had led a pair of experienced but painfully naive hunters on a merry chase, even tried to make friends in his awkward way. Sam knew there was probably a lot that he didn't know, but apparently Gabriel trusted him to know it or to let Gabriel share it in his own time.

He also didn't seem to expect Sam to agree, but had still been surprised by Castiel's presence when they had arrived. And neither of them had left, or let go of Sam. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Tell me about these bonds. I'm guessing there's nothing preventing you from having bonds to multiple humans if Cas was looking for me with the idea of talking to Dean later. Are the humans restricted to bonding with just one angel?"

"Kinky," Gabriel drawled, waggling his eyebrows again. "Looking to start an angel harem, Samnykins?"

"Not sure two really counts as a harem, Gabrielicious," Sam deadpanned, getting a startled look from Gabriel in response. More seriously, Sam went on, "Look, whatever your reasons, you both came to me and I'm not going to turn either of you away. I missed you both."

I mourned you both. Again, he thought silently, unable to push the words past his throat but still needing to convey them. From the way both angels shifted closer, he could tell they heard it.

"There is no limit to the number of bonds permitted save in the compatibility of all individuals," Castiel murmured. "Monogamy is a human convention meant for tracking the lineage of children prior to science developing to the point of DNA testing, and is quite unnecessary in our case."

"Cassie's one of the few angels I can even relate to anymore, and I already figured we'd end up sharing space," Gabriel shrugged. "If he can put up with having me around, I'm fine with sharing."

"We're figuring out a different way of explaining it to Dean, though," Sam warned, getting understanding nods in return. "Anything else I should probably know about this before I agree?"

"Look at you, learning to get all the info before jumping in feet first," Gabriel cooed. This time, his jerk in response to whatever Castiel did put him in range for Sam to flick his ear. "Hey!"

"Nothing's broken and the world isn't ending," Sam said dryly. "I don't actually have to make a snap decision based on limited available information this time, and I do remember certain conversations about angelic bonds. Eternal commitment isn't something you just jump into or we'd be having this conversation in Vegas."

"We still could," Gabriel pointed out. His shoulders slumped at the looks both Sam and Castiel shot him. "Okay, no, we couldn't. Your brother would break out the holy oil to deep fry us if he didn't get to attend your wedding."

"So this is more along the lines of a marriage bond?" Sam raised an eyebrow, glancing between Castiel's sudden bashful look and Gabriel's unrepentant smirk.

"Hey, you're the one who brought up Vegas," the Archangel said. Sam just looked at him, and eventually Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It's more like an engagement than anything, at least for us. I'm not gonna make any promises when it comes to you and Cassie, though, especially given how thoroughly entangled he's been with you and your big bro the last decade."

"Those bonds would have been broken with my death," Castiel pointed out without inflection. Sam felt the very slight tremble in his frame and squeezed again. "The entity would have wanted to ensure that I had nothing tethering me to life any longer."

"That just means when you reestablish the bonds they could snap back into place even stronger," Gabriel pointed out. He shifted slightly, and Castiel's eyes fluttered closed before going wide to look at Gabriel. The Archangel smiled wryly at the seraph. "Can't fool me, baby brother. That's the real reason you came to Sam first, isn't it?"

"Is that not why you came to Sam first yourself, brother?" Castiel responded archly. Sam was once again aware of another layer of conversation taking place between the two angels, like a static feedback against his nerves. To his surprise, all humor fled from Gabriel's expression as he turned very serious.

"I was always going to come to Sam first," he admitted with the weight of confession. "Dean's easy enough to build a rapport with on the surface, but that's as deep as it goes. For a real bond, it was always going to be Sam." Then, like a light switch being flipped, the smirk was back. "Plus, as volatile as the Dean Machine was last I knew, I'd just as soon wait and see how his psychology is gonna shake out now before I trust him to get all up in my feathers. They need a delicate touch, you know!"

As if a skilled mechanic like Dean would not have a delicate enough touch for an angel's wings. Sam kept that thought silent where it could be ignored by the angels as he rather suspected that it wasn't the capability of Dean's hands to manage delicacy that was in question.

And then the full impact of the implications hit Sam and he found himself clutching at the angels' shoulders to keep himself from falling over or sinking to the floor as his vision tunneled. He vaguely heard what sounded like a yelp from Gabriel around the roaring in his ears as strong arms hurriedly went around him from two directions. The vague awareness he had of that skittering electric Grace grew stronger, enveloping him in buzzing bees and crashing waves.

Is this another dream? Sam wondered, closing his eyes and holding on to Castiel and Gabriel for dear life as he struggled to push past the dizziness and the magnitude threatening to sweep him under. Did I fall asleep and dream you both back to life again and that's why you're here offering me everything I ever could have imagined wanting?

"Breathe, Sam," Castiel's voice rumbled close to his ear, and Sam struggled to obey, to draw in a deep breath that filled his nose with the scents of petrichor and sage and candyfloss thick enough to drown in. "You are awake. I am here. Gabriel is here. We are real. We are alive."

"We love you, kiddo, honest," Gabriel's voice echoed, just a little further away, a whisper of breath against the skin of Sam's throat where his shirt collar opened. "Not a trick or a prank or a goodbye. No obligation, no time constraints, no need to choose between us or anything else dumb and limiting like that."

Sam trembled. Swallowed. "Can I... can I look at you?"

"All you gotta do is open your eyes," Gabriel answered, but there was a note of confusion in his voice, like he couldn't understand why Sam would ask such a thing.

Castiel understood better, if the sharply indrawn breath was anything to go by, and his voice held a note of urgency when he said, "Take it slowly. We are at full strength again and will be considerably brighter than when you last looked upon either of us."

"Oh, sh--" Gabriel cut himself off on the realization as Sam's hold on both angels tightened and he let down his mental walls, all the shields and barriers he had built to try and keep his powers in and other beings out, then gingerly opened his eyes.

Bright was an understatement. Staring directly into the sun would have seemed dim in comparison to the brilliant aurora that filled his vision, a clashing kaleidoscope of colorful energy patterns that swirled and danced together and apart, contained to each separate angelic sphere even as they reached across the barriers to entwine together with each other. Sam squinted into the brightness as he let his eyes adjust physically and metaphysically, the tears gathering in his eyes from seeing and recognizing the way those tendrils of angelic energy were reaching out to him as well, not as an invasion but as a supplication.

They really, truly, honestly wanted him, were practically yearning for him, and yet still they were leaving it up to him to say that they were welcome.

"Sam," the glowing form to his right resonated with the sounds of crashing waves and trumpeting horns. "Sammy, hey, dial it back a notch, kiddo, your eyeballs are starting to smoke."

"Can we not 'dial it back' for him?" came the voice to his left that echoed with tolling church bells and screaming crows amid the hiss of rain. A moment later the harshly glowing figure to his left became softer and less focused and yet somehow more solid. Sam caught the flurry of color from his right before that form, too, became both more condensed and more diffuse at once, easing the strain on his eyes and awareness.

With that lessening of brightness and pressure, Sam became aware of the fact that his eyes burned and his skull was practically splitting open from the pounding headache. Quickly, he began pulling up walls and barriers, one after another, until he could look at Castiel and Gabriel again and see their new, chosen vessels with only the hinted afterimages of their respective halos and the shifting, rustling expanses of full-fledged, whole and healthy wings, Castiel's two leftmost wings brushing and entwined with the three rightmost wings of Gabriel's set, the other five wings reaching out to embrace Sam without actually touching him, a silent and intangible offer of their support and trust.

"Are you sure?" Sam mumbled, then felt like kicking himself. They were angels, a seraph and an Archangel, older than Time! They knew better than he could even begin to imagine what "forever" meant, and yet he still couldn't stop himself from asking. From making sure that they had really thought about this, being bound to him, for eternity.

"Been sure since Ohio, Samaluscious," Gabriel answered with a crooked grin that didn't quite conceal the edge of pain and shadows haunting that humor with the ache of a mystery spot in Broward County, Florida. "Kinda gave up on the possibility for a while there, figured I'd blown my chances sky high. I mean, even your phenomenal capabilities for forgiveness had to have a limit, right?"

"I trust you have learned better since then," Castiel remarked in a dry tone, the feathers of his wings rustling with smugness. "After all, you have not harmed or betrayed Sam or Dean as cruelly and thoroughly as I have had occasion to do, and if Sam can find it in his heart to forgive me..."

"Yeah, well, he loves you," Gabriel huffed, eyes darting away. "Even traumatized and half-comatose, I could feel that. Yeah, you did a lot of shit, but you also stuck around to make up for it. Me, on the other hand..."

"You were deprived of the opportunity to either remain or return to Sam's side," Castiel pointed out with that same delicate bluntness he had used to refer to his and Sam's shared traumas. "We cannot know now what may have happened if you had been afforded the opportunity, not for certain, but you and I both know well the pull of Sam's soul on those willing to see."

"Oh, yeah..." Gabriel all but purred, golden eyes slanting up through darker golden lashes to look at Sam. Sam felt his cheeks heating up with embarrassment at the literally glowing intensity of that gaze, more than aware that the Archangel was taking the opportunity to get his own peep show at what Sam kept beneath the bounds of his physical body, just as Sam had been looking at him and Castiel before. He let him look, figuring it was only fair, and tried not to fidget in discomfort over being so thoroughly seen, every sharp edge and scar and shadow on display, more exposed to his angels' sight than he'd ever felt buck naked.

"Beautiful," Castiel murmured, soft and insistent close to Sam's ear before lightly chapped lips brushed the stubble-roughened line of his jaw in an unmistakable kiss.

"Like looking at kintsugi marble given life and breath to speak its history like a poet to a lover," Gabriel hummed in agreement, leaning in to press his own kiss to the rightmost just of bone at Sam's clavicle, his nose brushing Sam's throat as he swallowed. The Archangel once called the Messenger of God certainly had a way with words! "Don't ever think the damage you've survived makes you less than glorious, Samazing."

"I'll have to work on that," Sam muttered, unwilling to lie to them and say he believed them, not when he knew he didn't, but more than willing to try now that he knew there would be no more divine puppet master pulling his strings to keep him from healing the wounds on his heart and soul. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "How do we do this, then?"

"So, I'm not sure what Cassie's plan was gonna be," Gabriel started, and Sam felt more than saw the shift of one golden-edged teal wing nudging up into iridescent rainbow-brushed black, "but assuming you didn't laugh in my face or something at the suggestion I was thinking of taking you out on a date. Nothing fancy or over the top, not this time, just someplace new to explore without the excuse or distraction of a hunt or a fight for your life."

"I, too, had something similar in mind," Castiel admitted. "Perhaps a walk through the woods that surrounds the bunker, investigating some of the terrain we had not yet ventured into the past few years?"

"That sounds nice," Sam agreed, privately thinking that it also sounded safe in case Dean came looking for him and didn't take the note he planned to leave on the table beside his book at face value. He hesitated, biting his lower lip in indecision.

"You can tell him we're alive," Gabriel said with an air of resigned humor. "Neither of us expected you to keep that a secret from him. Just say we came to you because we had a more diplomatic situation going on and we'll be around to catch up with him later when the time crunch is more relaxed."

"Nice and vague and plausible," Sam snorted softly, but smiled. It took a few more long seconds and a stern mental reminder to himself that they wouldn't disappear on him the moment he let go for Sam to unwind his arms from around them and pull away enough to scribble the intended note on a clean sheet of notebook paper. Making sure that the notebook was positioned nicely visible on the table with the edge of his book pinning down the loose edge of the paper just enough to keep it from flipping over without obscuring it, Sam straightened up and turned back to the angels - his angels, soon, and potentially more - and reached out his hands to them, smiling a little helplessly when they both immediately reached back to clasp his hands in theirs. "So, going on a walk in the woods outside isn't far, but if you'd rather fly us out there..."

"You don't mind?" Gabriel's eyebrows went up.

"Eleven years I've been around Cas, and known you for longer," Sam reminded him. "I never had the same... difficulty with angel flight that Dean does, and even humans have a thing about when a limb that was broken is finally healed and useable again we can't help but want to use it a lot."

"Fair enough," Gabriel nodded, then looked at Castiel. "You lead. Since you suggested the woods, I bet you know just where to start."

"I promise not to drop you," Castiel deadpanned, smirking when Gabriel actually groaned.

"This is the thanks I get for restoring your memories," he lamented, shaking his head theatrically to Sam's amusement. Then he smirked, stepping closer to Sam's side. "I'll just hold on nice and tight to Sammykins here, since I know you won't dare drop him in a frozen ravine."

"Of course not," Castiel said in an affronted tone as he settled himself against Sam's side in mirror to Gabriel. "It's summer, after all."

A strong beat of dark wings, a twist of celestial energy, and the three of them disappeared from the library, leaving only the echo of Sam's laughter to mark their presence.

-End-

#rk writes #supernatural fic #sastiel #sabriel #casabriel #sam winchester #castiel #gabriel #wings #angelic true forms

[readyforthegarden]

Silver Springs - Part Three

Masterlist

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Original Female Character

Synopsis: The year was 1976, the season was summer. The days were hot and the nights were hotter. Music was the best it had ever been, especially rock music. Sam Kiszka has been riding the high of being in one of the top bands on the scene, but when his bands tour is accompanied by another up-and-coming band, with a lead singer that gets on his very last nerve, will everything come crashing down or will they end up making music that changes the world?

Warnings: Smoking, drinking, drug use 18+ only, Minors DNI

WC: 1951

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Sam was wrong. He was so, so wrong. Harlow only became more grating on his nerves as the days went by. She sang constantly, as she walked down the halls of the venue, from soundcheck, in the bathroom, hearing her through the door as he passed it by. If she wasn’t singing, she was humming. The worst fact of the matter was Josh was enamored by her, constantly bringing her in to listen to something, to harmonize with him, warm up with him. Sam was surrounded by Harlow entirely.

He watched from the side stage in Jackson, Wyoming as Josh and Harlow sat cross-legged in the middle of the stage, hands held up, palms facing each other but just a few small millimeters from touching. They both had their eyes closed, lazy, lit smiles on their faces while they hummed in unison.

“Your aura is so strong, Josh.” Harlow said, her tone of voice in slight awe.  “Your pulsing with energy, I can practically see the colors with my eyes closed.”

“Tell me,” Josh murmured, a smile tugging his lips up at the corner. “What colors am I?”

“Oh you’re a vibrant orange.” Harlow replied, grinning, eyes still closed. “Exuding out all around you, and then closer to your body, yellow.”

“I like that, it sounds groovy.” Josh chuckled. “I don’t know if I can see yours.”

“That’s okay,” Harlow bumped Josh’s knee with her own in the small space between them. “I’ve had mine read before, and I’ve been told it’s usually a shade of purple or more indigo.”

“What do the colors mean?” Josh asked, opening his eyes. Harlow followed suit, yet they kept their hands up in front of them.

“Well, everyone interprets them slightly differently,” she explained. “But orange is usually someone who is very happy, happy to be themselves and be where they are and who they’re with, and loves to love. You make friends quickly. Yellow is a general playful spirit, balanced and incredibly smart.”

“Ooh, yeah I like my aura.” Josh laughed. “What about yours?”

“Indigo and purples can represent a connection to a higher self, being able to ‘see’ others for who they truly are. Which I fully believe because I’ve been able to tell when someone has been lying to me quite a few times, I’ve become very intuitive as I’ve learned about everything.” 

“You don’t get to be where you are as a woman in this industry by being dumb, that’s for sure.” Josh smiled at Harlow, and she returned it.  

“I wish more people could see that.” Josh watched as her smile faltered slightly, her hands slowly falling to her lap, breaking their energy connection. 

“They will,” Josh assured her, reaching his hand out and cupping her chin. “You’re a star of your own right, Harlow, much like your namesake.”

“You caught that, huh?”

“Harlow and the Blue Jean Babies?” Josh smirked. “My mother still talks about Jean Harlow and Bombshell. It’s one of her favorite movies.”

“She was something, wasn’t she?” Harlow blinked.

“And you are too.” Josh replied, shaking her head back and forth slightly with a chuckle. He leaned in, lowering his voice as if he was sharing a secret. “You’re gonna be huge, baby.”

“Don’t I know it.” Harlow whispered back, giggling.

Sam felt something tighten in his chest as he watched his eldest brother lean in towards the object of his annoyance, his hand already on her face to hold her in place. Of course his brother would fall for her shit, all that free-spirit nonsense. He would make his move only a week and a half into the tour.

Sam plugged in his bass to the amplifier, plucking the strings and letting the notes thump all too loudly through the speaker, jolting Josh and Harlow apart. He watched her back as Josh stood up, offering her his hands and tugging her up too before she gave him a small wave and moved to leave the stage as Danny and Jake entered. As she passed Sam, leaving behind a trail of her perfume, notes of lavender, patchouli and jasmine floating over to him and causing him to lock eyes with her. Her eyes glimmered as she smiled at him, and Sam merely frowned harder, the lingering image of his brother leaning in to her flashing again in his mind.

“Break a leg tonight, Sam.” Sam only gave her a terse nod to her as he tuned his bass up for the show.

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“Party on our bus tonight, boys!” Josh grinned as he strutted into the green room after the show, rubbing his hands together before going to the rider table and picking up the bottles of booze, tucking them under his arms and heading out, not even bothering to change out of his jumpsuit. Sam sighed, hearing Josh making sure to invite Harlow and the Blue Jean Babies.

“Aww, what, you’re gonna be a party pooper?” Jake teased as he changed, using a towel to wipe the sweat from his body.

“I’m just tired.” Sam mumbled, whipping off his jacket. “I just want to get into my bunk and go to bed.”

“Tough luck, rockstar.” Jake laughed, flicking his little brothers arm. “You chose the lifestyle, you gotta stay up all night and party with us.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam pushed Jake away, and continued to change, keeping his grumblings to himself in his head. 

As soon as the busses pulled out of the venue, the party was on, Jake, never tired, was already playing a spare acoustic he had stowed away on the bus, enjoying being in control of the music that everyone sang along to. Heady smoke filled the bus and Sam had to admit, he was feeling a bit better, even with Harlow singing a few feet away from him.

He stood next to Billy in the tight space, both of them being on-lookers as Danny gently spun Harlow around to the music, taking the small joint from her lips and placing it in his. 

“This is wild, man,” Billy muttered, taking a sip of his beer as he watched on. Sam quirked an eyebrow at the guitarists admission.

“This is one of the most tame parties I think we’ve ever had.” Sam chuckled. Billy shook his head.

“Not the party…well yes, the party, but the fact I’m here. We’re here.” he shook his head.  “I never would’ve thought it would happen.”

“Life works out like that,” Sam shrugged. 

“Not life.” Billy shook his head. “Her.” he used the hand holding his beer to gesture towards Harlow.

“I’m sure you could have made it here without her.” Sam scoffed, barely hiding his sour feelings. Billy just shook his head and smiled.

“I’ve known that girl since we were in diapers.” Billy sighed wistfully. “I’ve never met anyone else with the determination and drive to do something like she has. We always dabbled in music together, we really thought we were gonna be the next Peter, Paul and Mary, just missing the Peter.” 

“And then you found one, and then a drummer.” Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah, she went into the city one weekend, and came back and was so fiercely determined to make this band happen. My dad almost killed us, running up the electricity bill and making all that noise. But she started going out and booking us shows. Dive bars, legion halls, anywhere that would take us. And somehow within a few months, something clicked and we started booking clubs, and bigger shows, and then you and your brother came into our lives and suddenly we’re on a giant tour with one of the biggest rock bands the world has ever seen.”

Sam sipped his beer again, selfishly thinking to himself that the trajectory of their careers were double because of him, for putting Harlow in her place when she was still just Brandy Lawson, and second for letting them come on the tour. 

“It’s just really incredible.” Sam nodded, smiling at Billy as the smell of jasmine and lavender hit his senses, now mixed with the smell of tobacco and marijuana. Harlow was standing in front of them, slipping the lukewarm beer from Billy’s hand and taking a large swig of it.

“All the dancing and smoke has me thirsty.” she laughed, she turned to Sam. “What are you wallflowers talking about?”

“You, of course,” Billy smirked. Harlow gave him a wicked smirk back before darting her eyes to Sam.

“Me? Well it was all good, I hope.” Billy reached out, taking Harlow’s hand and twirled her around. 

“Just about how determined you were to make it with the band.” Sam regarded her once she was stationary again. Her eyes lit up, the drive that led them all the way to where they were now sparking through the haze in the air. He had hoped the quip regarding her passion would make it feel more like desperation, and embarrass her slightly, but the only glow on her cheeks was from the blush she had worn on stage and the alcohol she had consumed.

“When I want something, I get it.” Harlow replied.

“Is that so?” Sam challenged, raising his eyebrows. The pair stared at one another, a silent conversation existing between them for a few moments before Harlow turned and walked back over to his brothers, joining in on another song.

“She’s not lying.” Billy sighed.  “I’ve never seen anyone say no to that girl. Hell, she could sell salt to the ocean.” Sam watched as Harlow took a drink that Josh offered her, the two of them clinking the rims of their plastic cups together before taking sips. He felt a small pang in his stomach as he watched Josh place a hand on her back, nearly feeling sick that his brother would choose to start something with this woman who only seemed keen on getting to the top. 

Sam finished off his beer before reentering the party, taking the now roach-sized joint out of the corner of Jake’s mouth and taking a long, deep drag from it. Holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, he slowly let out the stream out of his mouth. His eyes lazily gazed around the small area of the bus, and and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched Danny take over on the guitar for a bit, giving Jake a small reprieve to grab a beer of his own and slowing down the pace.

“Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin' for a train,” Danny began singing softly, earning some hollers of excitement at the Joplin tune. It only took a few more lines before everyone else’s voices joined his, even Sam’s.

“When I's feelin' near as faded as my jeans

Bobby thumbed a diesel down, just before it rained

And rode us all the way into New Orleans

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana

I's playin' soft while Bobby sang the blues

Windshield wipers slappin' time, I's holdin' Bobby's hand in mine

We sang every song that driver knew”  

There was a new air of levity in the entire bus as everyone sat together, singing and swaying. Sam caught Harlow, her arm slung around Billy’s shoulders as they sang, sharing his empty beer bottle as a microphone.

“Freedom is just another word for nothin' left to lose

Nothin', don't mean nothin' hon' if it ain't free, no-no

And feelin' good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues

You know feelin' good was good enough for me

Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee”

And maybe feeling good was going to be good enough for Sam Kiszka, at least on this tour.

🎶 🎶 🎶

Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @starcatcherkiszka @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #sam gvf #sam kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka #josh kiskza #danny wagner #sam kiskza x oc #silver springs fic

[delfiore]

don’t fear the reaper [part iii]

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

synopsis: things become stranger as wanda looks to the mcu for answers.

word count: 1.4k

part i, part ii, <<>> part iv

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Being Elizabeth Olsen meant that Wanda had to fulfill all of her duties as actor, and that included not one, but several movie premieres in multiple cities.

Wanda was not set out to pose or do interviews, and she wondered how Lizzie had had to do this all her life.

“Honey, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” You asked softly in the seat next to her. “I don’t wanna be mean, but you’ve looked quite out of it since New York. Are you sure you’re up for this? You know we can always cancel.”

She mustered up the best smile she could, and took your hand laying on the seat next to you. “I’m alright, my love. Don’t worry about me.”

The corner of your lips curved up.

“What?” Wanda asked.

“No, it’s just that . . .” You laughed quietly. “You’ve never called me ‘your love’ before. You think it’s cheesy.”

“Well, I’m calling you that now.” Wanda said, pressing a kiss to your hand. “Because you are.”

“Y/N, we need you to stay on the perimeter.” Steve instructed in your ear.

“No way! I’m not letting Wanda go in there alone!” You protested quietly.

“Y/N. Steve’s right.” Wanda said softly. “I’ll be fine. I can handle myself.”

Your eyebrows hung low, your lips pursed into a thin line. Finally, with a sigh, you said, “As you wish, my love.”

Kissing her cheek, you took off.

She rolled her eyes, grateful for the darkness of her surroundings hiding the blush on her cheeks as Sam groaned through the coms.

Unlike in New York, the entire cast of the movie was here; it was Los Angeles after all. This included the actors playing Strange, America, and the Sorcerer Supreme. You were already off somewhere giving interviews, no doubt about your own character’s future in these movies.

That was when she saw them conversing with each other, and her breath stuck in her throat. They looked just like her little boys, but much more mature and self-assured in their slicked-back hair and in their tailored suits wrapped around their tiny bodies.

“Billy, Tommy . . .” Wanda breathed. Her feet took her forwards, but she stopped herself. What if they were afraid of her here too?

“Lizzie!” Billy called, as he pulled on Tommy’s sleeve, and the two happily pranced over to her.

She extended her arms and got on her knees to meet them at eye level. They were back in her arms again, she could feel them against her skin. Her boys, her babies.

“Hi . . .” She sobbed quietly. “Hi, little ones.”

“Hi, Lizzie! I saw you over there and I just wanted to come over and say hi.” Billy beamed. “Me and Jett found these crazy, cool statues of our characters and took so many pictures with them!”

“Yeah, they were super awesome!” Tommy cut him off. “I saw one of Wanda as well! They got the costumes looking so realistic and everything!”

Wanda nodded and listened as he rambled on. She remembered a time when they would rant to her about they favorite superheroes from their cartoons before bed, their little faces lighting up as they try and emulate everything in their brains with their animated, little bodies, just as they were now. In every universe, the boys radiated with life.

“Lizzie? A-Are you okay?” Tommy hesitated.

“What? Y-Yeah, yeah. Just some allergies.” Wanda brushed away a stray tear, and chuckled. “Are you guys excited for the movie?”

“So excited!” Billy exclaimed with his hands. “I can’t wait to see you kick ass! Oh—please don’t tell my mom I said that . . .”

Her chest tightened at the mention of the boy’s mother. “I won’t,” she smiled nonetheless, “it’ll be our little secret.”

“Julian! Jett! Time for pictures!”

“Oh, I gotta go now. It’s nice seeing you!”

“Yeah, nice to see you, Lizzie! And—um, I hope you feel better.”

They both left before she could utter another word. She watched as little Billy—Julian as he was known in this universe—ran to another woman who spoke to him gently. Wanda knew it was his mother by the look she gave him; gentle and patient. She once looked at her children like that too.

My beautiful boys, she thought. I hope you can forgive me.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she had no idea that it would hurt this badly. To rewatch her life and all the trauma that came along with it again, to see every moment that tore her heart up, each time only twisting the knife further.

She never actually witnessed her brother’s death, she only felt it through the bond the shared. With the power of the Mind Stone coursing through them, she felt the bullets pierce her brother’s flesh as if they had pierced her own, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe as life slipped away from him. But she saw it now, how he heroically shielded Clint and the child from raining bullets, holes of red littering his body, his eyes widened and lifeless as he collapsed to the ground.

When she reached Avengers: Infinity War, she knew what would happen next.

But still, she forced herself to watch, as she blasted you with fatal amounts of magic, trying to destroy the Mind Stone in your chest, until you, too, collapsed to the floor with a gaping hole in your chest. Then she watched Thanos rewind time and pull the Stone out of you like it was nothing.

Then Endgame, then WandaY/N—they got that little theatrics she made in Westview on-screen too—but still, there was nothing, including Multiverse of Madness, that contained any clues as to why she was sent here, and, most importantly, what, or who.

There must be something she had overlooked.

She went back to her list of ‘all MCU projects’ that she found online. All of the ones in which she appeared in have been knocked out . . . unless there was that one about the multiverse. There was an episode about her being a zombie—as wack as that sounded—so she gave it a go.

And then the narrator revealed himself in the intro, and Wanda sat up in her seat. It was him, that . . . man. The bald man with glowing white eyes she saw for milliseconds right before she ended up here. She reached out towards the TV—

. . .

—VT eht sdrawot tuo dehcaer ehS .ereh pu dedne ehs erofeb thgir sdnocesillim rof was ehs seye etihw gniwolg htiw nam dlab ehT .nam . . . taht ,mih saw tI .taes reh ni pu tas adnaW dna ,ortni eht ni flesmih delaever rotarran eht neht dnA

.og a ti evag ehs os—dednuos taht sa kcaw sa—eibmoz a gnieb reh tuoba edosipe na saw erehT .esrevitlum eht tuoba eno taht saw ereht sselnu . . . tuo dekconk neeb evah ni deraeppa ehs hcihw ni seno eht fo llA .enilno dnuof ehs taht ’stcejorp UCM lla‘ fo tsil reh ot kcab tnew ehS

.dekoolrevo dah ehs gnihtemos eb tsum erehT

. . .

Then Endgame, then WandaY/N—they got that little theatrics she made in Westview on-screen too—but still, there was nothing, including Multiverse of Madness, that contained any clues as to why she was sent here, and, most importantly, what, or who.

“Lizzie? Baby, what’s wrong?”

She felt you wrap your arms around her, bringing her body racking with sobs close to your chest.

“Oh, babe.” You stroked her hair as she clutched onto you and cried.

“Y/N . . . Jamie . . . I need to tell you something.” Wanda said through hiccups. “You’re gonna think I’m insane, o-or that I’ve been consumed in my work with the movie out, but—“

She took a few gasping breaths. “I’m not from this universe. I’m not Lizzie. I’m Wanda, like from the movies. I was on Wundagore and I was trying to get rid of the Darkhold, and the next thing I knew I was here—“

You were stunned, but still you let her fall apart in your embrace. “Okay, okay.” You brought her into your arms again. “It’s okay. I’m here. Maybe we should go lay down, hm? Let’s call it an early night.”

For some reason, she nodded, and nuzzled closer to you, as you led her upstairs.

As Wanda made herself comfortable in bed with you, she wondered. It was a neat trick, one she herself had exercised before, but she only ever did it when things didn’t go her way.

But who would do that? Who rewound time?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

part ii <<>> part iv

TAGLIST:

@milkxxkookies @loyyren @randomgaypersonsposts @de7vil-mp3 @sebschrs @3000marvellover @billiesbeans @nattyswxfe @bcloudz @gravityanavit @imthenatynat @reereeineedtopee @ahn-dee @romanovaslut @emril-osvigne @justanormalsimpblog @havecouragebeklnd @noob-master-69-1 @rxin1314 @ppgrayson @ichala @persephonesbelova @marrymemcgrath @loverscarnation @mar-romanova @sleepyserene @alternaative-mind @nysstarlight @rosemallow10 @simp4haiz @rei-zy @the-havana-club @deep-dark-deranged @xzero18x @saturnzringzx @dozza3000 @augustluvr @itsyacuhjake @tttaylor77 @jovialpizzawombatbakery @nervoustrack @annie0913 @ggwritingloser @wandasmainho @xochitlsgolfcart @imapotatao @mymommawanda @gaylorvader @localarcherwriter

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x you #multiverse of madness

[junosbagel]

Ethan Landry headcanons!

some general ethan headcanons, probably pre ghostface stuff, no spoilers!

i love my nerdy dork

warnings: none! all fluff

-he is oblivious but he really wishes he was not

-ethan is a gamer we all know it

-saw someone say he plays dark souls and i know damn well he does

-i could imagine ethan playing skyrim, resident evil, zelda, the last of us, the walking dead, detroit become human, final fantasy, pokémon etc.

-he has definitely played all the zelda games

-i can't imagine him playing competitive shooting games though

-for multiplayer games, he would always play with chad or get chad to play other games

-LOVES going to the arcade

-is a god at dance dance revolution

-his ddr partner is tara and they go all out!!!!

-sometimes a small crowd would gather to watch them

-nerd

-insanely in love with marvel, dc, and star wars (including the comics)

-other comics (or shows based from comics) i think he'd be into are invincible and the walking dead

-obviously collects comics

-collect other merchandise from those franchises and series

-collects figurines and funko pops

-since jack said he has adhd (like me) i want to add that to ethan!!

-absolutely loves it when he gets to talk/rant about his hyperfixations

-has a lot of "well actually ☝️" moments that their friend group, especially mindy, find very annoying

-he goes to the gym with chad, usually in the morning

-he was really close with quinn but when they started college, they kind of drifted but every now and then they would hang out

-chad and quinn always try to get ethan to try and talk to new people in hopes of getting into a relationship

-chad's his wingman, always hyping him up

-at times, girls (and boys) go up to ethan but he screws up a lot and makes a bad impression on them

-ethan does not like going to frat parties much, but figures he go to some anyway for the sake of "living up to the expectation" of his fellow peers and age group

-other times he'll go if chad and the gang are going

-and when he does attend frat parties, he doesn't drink or is at least sober because he knows he'll be the one driving his friends home

-a small hobby of his is drawing

-likes drawing art of characters from shows and series he likes

-as oblivious as he may be, if any of the girls need to talk to someone, they would go to ethan

-not for advice or anything, but just for someone to listen

-he isn't the best with words but through acts of kindness and reassurance, he tries to be there for his friends

-ethan also tries to be understanding when his friends are venting or going through something

-prefers math over english classes, he is good in his english classes but he finds math more interesting and easier

-loves building and collecting legos

-mostly collects star wars lego sets

-sometimes him and chad will build legos together as they talk or watch tv

-can actually cook, he's decent at it

-after a rough interaction with a girl that he tried to talk to, ethan felt self conscious about the way he dressed

-went to mindy and anika for help

-honestly he dresses pretty decently but occasionally he will wear a really nice outfit he liked when mindy and anika took him shopping

-when he's feeling down and needs someone to talk to, he usually goes to chad, quinn, or sam

-he has a hard time being vulnerable in front of people, even his friends

-but he's glad that his friends always assure him that they're there for him like he is for them

-is unintentionally funny

-on halloween he ALWAYS goes all out

-growing up he used to always match with quinn or richie

-but as they got older, both quinn and richie stopped dressing up with ethan :(

-really wants to go trick or treating but thought it was weird if he wasn't with a little sibling or relative to be with

-he stopped trick or treating after high school, thinking that people who gave out candy would think it's odd for someone his age to trick or treating

-i could see him collecting mixtapes, dvds, and vhs tapes

-into film and cinema in general

-either he tries to comment on stuff when watching movies or analyzes it all in his head (could make a whole essay about it if he wanted to)

-uses letterboxd

-ethan and mindy like talking about film and usually like to defend their opinions about it

-can binge watch a lot of movies or shows without getting burnt out

-although quinn and ethan are siblings, i can see mindy and ethan fighting like siblings do

that's all the headcanons i have for now! i am most likely going to make another one at some point. hope you all enjoyed this :)

#ethan landry #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry scream #jack champion #scream #scream vi #scream movie #ghost face #scream 6 #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine

[writer-rubes]

Head in the Clouds

A Wholesome Fic

A/N: No need to worry, I’m still invested as heck in SAMS/LAES. I’m just gonna take a break from writing about it for a while. I can only take so much angst! Besides, I planned to do more with this blog anyway. It’s for all my obsessions, not just one!

But anyways, onto something incredibly self indulgent. I’ve been stupidly obsessed with @fluffyhare ‘s Avery! And their love, Casper, of course! They’re so sweet and cute. I adore them with all my being and all their tomfoolery. So that’s why I’m throwing in a third whe- I mean, doing some cute interactions with them with my own persona! Because honestly- I’m lonely

Casper and Avery belong to @fluffyhare ! No worries, I got their permission!

I hope you enjoy it! And I hope I did Avery’s character justice-

————————————————————————————————————————————

Head in the Clouds

Chapter 1/3: The Meeting

CW: Drowning, Depression, Injury, Romantic Fluff, Teasing

(No real tickles yet, but they’ll come up, no worries)

————————————————————————————————————————————

What was with that night?

Not words I’d typically use to describe supernatural experiences and almost drowning, but here we are. Those words were all I could think of to describe that night.

One week ago, I had nearly drowned. It was late at night, and I had gone out to the pier to think. I had been experiencing a lot of difficult feelings, so I figured staring out into the foggy, dark sea would allow for my mind to clear.

It did clear my mind for a while. The crashing of the waves, the smell of the salty sea, and the view of the moon just above the horizon… it was a perfect picture for a calm mind. Staring out allowed for the fog within me to part and give me the strength to go onward.

However, as I turned to walk back to my apartment, I was faced with a strange, shadow like figure. Since it was too dark, I couldn’t make out their face. I tried to walk away, but before I could even process what was happening, the figure grabbed me by the waist, and threw me over the edge of the pier, and I plummeted into the sea below.

I didn’t have time to process it, run, or even catch myself. It all happened so fast. As I fell into the cold sea, I struggled to swim up for air. However, every time I tried to reach the surface, another wave crashed on top of me, pushing me down further. Though I could swim, I wasn’t exactly a strong swimmer. Eventually, the lack of air started to get to me, and I felt my consciousness start to fade.

Suddenly, I felt air fill my lungs again. Something held onto my hood, and yanked my head above the water. I could barely see due to the salt in my eyes, but the figure who pulled me out wiped it away with a wet cloth. I got a good look at them.

Their head… it was the shape of a cumulus cloud. They had glasses, and a puffy sweater for the current colder months. Wearing a sweater in the ocean? Blasphemy!

This being… I wasn’t sure what they were. A deity? A guardian angel? Or something else? Did I die? So many questions were running through my head. The figure rested their soft hand on my cheek for a moment as I stared in awe. They looked like they were about to speak, but police sirens, ambulance horns, and worried chatter were heard on the beach. Before I could thank them, the figure dropped me off on the beach, and disappeared.

Doctors, bystanders, and police officers surrounded me, asking me hundreds of questions. I could hardly process them all. I kept assuring them I was alright. But I didn’t tell them how I fell in. Or what saved me. They’d think I was crazy! So I just told them I was walking at night and a stray dog chased me off the pier. I hoped they’d believe it.

Now, a week later, I had recovered just fine. But I stayed away from the pier. I didn’t want that figure to come back. But now it was early morning, and I was up and walking, long before businesses were open. Why? I couldn’t sleep. I was too focused on my own work to realize that it was already six in the morning. Now, I was walking through a mist so thick, I could barely see my own feet as I walked. Who would he crazy enough to be awake and out in this weather besides me?

A cry of shock answered my question.

Upon hearing this cry, it sounded like someone had gotten hurt. I hated seeing others harmed. I followed the noise, and saw someone I hadn’t seen, despite living in Port Oleander for a while. They had blue hair, a green hoodie, and a pair of jeans, plus a pair of blue sneakers on. They were on the ground, wincing in pain. I rushed over to them, and bent down next to them.

“Are you alright?” I asked them. They turned to face me.

“I-I’m fine. God, why did I decide to go skating when I can barely see the ground?” They asked themself. I noticed that beside them was a longboard. That must be why they fell. I frowned slightly. I saw that they had a pretty bad cut on their hand…

“Oh, my…” I whimpered, opening my purse. “I swear I have some bandages in here somewhere…” I dug around in my purse for a while, trying to figure out where they were. I found them, and pulled them out.

“Come here, this won’t hurt.” I assured them. They held out their hand, and I took it. I wrapped up their hand in bandages, preventing any bleeding or infection.

“Thank you… that’s better.” They muttered. I stood up, and I helped them stand up. I led them over to a nearby bench, and I got their longboard for them before sitting down next to them.

“So… what happened?” I asked quietly.

“Oh…” I could tell they felt slightly embarrassed. “Well, I woke up early, so I decided to go and skate for a while. I figured it would give me some energy. But I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I didn’t realize I was so close to the curb. My board fell off the sidewalk and I tumbled with it.”

I nodded as I listened. I could understand going out and doing something nice. Something to clear the mind a little. I certainly did a week ago. But then they broke the silence again.

“And what about you? Why are you out here?”

My cheeks turned slightly pink. “I… have been struggling as of late. I also woke up early, and I thought a stroll would make me feel better.” I shrugged. I was also thinking of that odd being who saved me… but I decided not to mention it.

“What’s your name?” I asked the one beside me. They smiled a bit.

“Oh, I’m Casper.” They said. I got a full grip on him when he told me his name, and I softly giggled.

“Really? You don’t look like a ghost to me.” I joked. Casper chuckled softly.

“I’ve heard that one before.” He said. “And you are?”

“I’m Rubes.” We shook hands. At least, I shook his hand that wasn’t hurt. “Nice to meet you, Casper.”

“Nice to meet you too, Rubes.” He responded.

We spent a little while talking. Getting to know each other a little. I told him about my library job, why I moved here, and what I liked doing. While he told me about his drawing abilities, his love of skateboarding, and his own hobbies. There was something about him I really enjoyed. He was just so sweet.

“It’s wonderful that you have such a muse, Casper.” I said during our conversation.

“He’s a perfect muse! I expected him to come running after I fell, but he is a scientist. So may-“ He was cut off when a voice rang out through the mist.

“Dewdrop!”

In a blur, Casper was picked up and carried off the bench, held in the arms of a mysterious figure that I couldn’t make out in the mist.

“Avery?” Casper said nervously.

“Oh, Dewdrop, I’m so sorry! I woke up sensing you fell, but I couldn’t get ready to come out in time! I tried to hurry, I promise!” Casper assured the figure.

“It’s okay, but…” He pointed to me, and I was just sitting there, staring at them.

“What?” The figure asked, before he turned to look at me. He was a bit surprised to see me. Maybe he thought only Casper was nuts enough to come out in this weather.

But he looked so familiar.

The figure approached me, and I shifted slightly on the bench. A soft smile appeared on their cloud-like face.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” He muttered. Then it clicked.

“You…” I whispered, shock lining my voice. “You’re the one who saved me.”

A slow nod followed from the cloud. He was so gentle. He bowed his head in respect.

“I am. I’m Doctor Avery Nimbus. It is an honor to finally meet you.” He said, taking my hand. “And I must thank you for helping Casper. He means the world to me, and I wish I could have been here sooner to help…”

“Oh, it’s okay.” I assured the doctor. “I’m Rubes… And really, thank you. Thank you for saving me.” I whispered as he helped me up from the bench.

“Wait… he saved you?” Casper added. I nodded, started to quickly explained what happened.

“I… went to think on the pier, and I fell into the sea.” I left out the scary figure part. “But he… pulled me above the water just in time. And got me to the beach where a search party was.” I explained. “If I’m being honest… I thought he was a dream.”

Avery let out a soft chuckle. He lifted his hand and stroked it across my cheek.

“Does that feel like a dream, Rubes?” He asked. I smiled and shook my head.

“No… But you do have soft hands.” I whispered. Avery chuckled again.

“All the better to tease my Dewdrop with~” He went over to Casper, and hugged him from behind. Casper let out a gasp, and a surprised, yet happy squeak.

“H-hey! Avery!” He cried.

“What? Is my touch just too much?” He started putting light kisses on Casper’s cheeks. “Does it make your cheeks red? Does it make you happy?” Casper whined and giggled as his cheeks burned a deep shade of red.

I was happy for them. It was clear they loved each other. And I wasn’t the type to interrupt sweet moments. So I picked up my purse, and slowly started to walk off. Before I could get even three steps away however, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Rubes, wait… where are you going?” Avery asked me.

“Oh, um… I was hoping to return to my apartment so I could get ready for work.” I answered. Avery shook his head.

“Oh, that won’t do! Not at all!” He cried. “I still need to thank you kindly for helping Casper when he fell!”

“Avery, I’m alright-“ Casper tried to tell his cloud love, but Avery ignored it. Not to be rude to him, but to be nice to me.

“How about you spend a little time on the beach with us? It’s so foggy that no one will find us. I could get you some tea, and we could become more acquainted.” I smiled a bit at the offer. He was so sweet… Besides, Avery didn’t seem like the type who was going to take no for an answer…

“Oh, alright.” I answered. “But just for a little bit… I have work in a few hours. The library opens at around ten.” I muttered.

Avery clapped his hands together in delight. “Wonderful!” He pulled both myself and Casper down the boardwalk to the beach. A thick layer of fog covered the sea and sand around us. I turned to face Casper.

“Are you sure being on the beach like this is… safe?” I asked quietly.

“With Avery around, we’re in the safest hands possible.” He assured me. I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I decided I had nothing to lose. Well, besides my cat.

Avery pulled out a towel for us to rest on. It was big enough for all three of us to sit down on. Despite the clouds above and the fog surrounding us, the beach felt oddly tranquil. Like I was floating in an abyss, with no thoughts plaguing me. Just the mist around the picnic blanket, Casper’s calm expression, and Avery’s kindness. Avery looked me over for a moment, and smiled a bit.

“Please don’t tell me what your favorite tea flavor is. I want to see if I can read you.” I thought about that. If he picked a flavor that I had never tried, that would be okay. I loved tea.

“Okay…” I just went along with him. His body blended in with the mist around us, and he vanished. I was surprised for a moment. That was a fun party trick. I turned again to Casper, who was sitting next to me with a relaxed expression.

“You two are… dating, correct?” I asked. Casper nodded.

“I guess it’s obvious.” He laughed slightly. “But he means the world to me. He’s beautiful, caring, soft…” His cheeks turned red as he fawned over his cloud love. I smiled as I listened.

“He sounds lovely.” I whispered. “And you two make an adorable couple.”

“Oh, thank you…” Casper smiled slightly at my words. “He saved you from drowning?” He asked me, and I slowly nodded.

“It was horrifying.” My breath shook slightly. “I really thought I was gonna die… But he pulled me above water, and I could breathe the moment my nose and mouth resurfaced…” Casper nodded as he listened.

“Avery… he’s a very powerful being.” He explained. “He can shut power off with his electricity, he can control water, he’s an amazing swimmer…” He started to blush. “He can even make… ghost hands…” He trailed off at that, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

“So… what is he, exactly?” I asked. “Where did he come from?”

Casper thought for a moment before answering.

“From what he told me, he’s from a place called Cirropa. A world full of cloud people. He’s told me he’s an elemental. Which makes sense… He also has wind powers and ice crystals in him.” I nodded as he spoke.

“And… how did you meet him?” I asked quietly. He laughed a little.

“Similar way you did. I fell into the sea, and he saved me and took care of me. From there, we bonded, and we eventually fell for each other.” He sighed in contentment, tracing shapes in the nearby sand with his finger. “He’s always so gentle. And so kind with his words.”

I nodded as I listened. Now I felt bad. I was probably being a third wheel to them, when they clearly adored each other. I was probably in their way. I turned away, staring out at the mist, watching it fold over itself. Before I could get too deep in thought, Avery returned with two cups of tea in his hand, and one on his cloudy head.

“Here’s yours, Casper.” He handed the boy a cup. “It’s your favorite.”

Casper chuckled softly, taking a sip. I smiled a little. Avery was truly a gentle one. The cloud took the other cup off of his head, and handed it to me.

“This one’s yours, Rubes. I hope you like vanilla chai.” I smiled as I took it.

“That’s actually my favorite.” I admitted to Avery. “Thank you…” I took a sip from mu own cup. It was a gentle and sweet flavor as I expected, but it was just strong enough to get the full flavor, and light enough to not feel like getting smacked in the face with it.

“It’s perfect.” I whispered softly. Avery chuckled.

“Only the best for my guests.” He gently poked my nose, making me giggle slightly. “So you say you work at the library?” He asked me. I nodded.

“It’s a paid internship, but yes. And I don’t do anything special. I just clean and help others who need my help. I’m basically just a supporter.” I shrugged. “But it’s nice. My boss is really sweet, and she supports my dreams of being an author.”

“You want to be an author?” Casper asked. I nodded slowly.

“Yes. It’s been my life’s dream since I was young. I love to write… it’s an escape for me. It allows me to throw myself into other worlds, be in other people’s shoes… Creating new concepts just from the mind alone…” I smiled slightly. “It’s a magical thing. And I want to share it.”

“That sounds lovely.” Avery said, warming my heart. “What do you intend to write?” He asked. I smiled slightly.

“Well, I have multiple stories in my head at once, but I’m going to flesh them out, one by one…”

I didn’t even realize I was rambling. When someone asks about my work, I get spun into a tizzy. I loved writing fantasy stories, and as such, a bunch of words spilled out before I could process it. At that point, I was just talking because it interested me. I didn’t even notice they were listening. Interested, even! I was just talking about the work I spent years perfecting. Normally, I’d only reveal them to those I trusted. But right now… I just wanted someone to hear it.

After I finished rambling with my tea, we started talking as a group. Avery told me of his own work, and both of them told me of their relationship. They were so sweet together. I never had a relationship like theirs. I hardly even know what romantic love felt like. No one was ever interested in me.

“I’m sure that someone out there admires you for who you are.” Avery told me. “You are a kind person. And I hope to spend more time with you in the future.”

“And you’ll probably see me often.” Casper added. “I’m always going to the library to pick up books for Avery.”

A sharp gasp escaped me. How long had I been here? I checked my phone.

Shoot! I had work in thirty minutes!

“As fun as this was, I… really have to go! Thank you for the tea, Avery!” I stood up. “Hope to see you both around!” I ran off to my apartment, ready to get changed for work. However, as I rushed, a special notebook fell out of my bag. I called it my purse, but it was more of a messenger bag than anything else.

Casper tried to call to me about it, but I was too far out of earshot to hear him. When the notebook fell, it was forced open to a page held with a feather bookmark. Casper, curiosity getting the better of him, picked it up.

His face turned immediately red when he read what was within. Pages and pages of characters of my own design, getting tickled. And it was descriptive, too. Not just a one off. There were even little doodles on the sides here and there. He practically choked on air for a moment.

“Dewdrop? Are you alright?” Avery asked as he noticed Casper’s burning face.

“Avery… look.” He handed Avery the notebook, taking deep breaths to try and recover from reading it. Avery’s face lit up in amusement. I certainly spared no details when it came to this stuff. Normally, I never took that notebook out in public. But I didn’t think anyone would be around.

“Do you know what this means, Casper?” Avery asked. Casper nodded.

“We have a community member we gotta welcome in.” Casper finished. “Should we return the notebook, though?” He asked quickly. Avery nodded.

“I will return it in due time. It is hers, after all. But I want to hold onto it for a bit…”

“For research purposes.”

#sfw tk community #sfw tickling community #minors do not interact #please #also do not interact with fluffyhare they dont like minors on their blog #be respectful #i love this cloud boy so much #and his relationship with casper #hope you like it! #a burst of inspiration hit me- #idk when the next part will be out #but hopefully soon #ocs #others ocs #mutuals oc #holy heck thank you for following me though- #it made my day

[trektraveler]

Breathe Free Part Two

Summary: You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, thank you very much! Dean knew that, he also knew better. He'd seen you sick plenty of times in the past five years, but this was different. This was much more than a cold, but you were so stubborn about doctors! Dean Winchester isn't about to let you slip away, even if it means going against your wishes. He only hopes he's not too late!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean x Reader, Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Reader, Hospitals, Kissing, fluff

Word Count: 5873

One Shot - Two Parts

Author’s Notes: I have been sick with Covid for a month. Well... down sick for 2 1/2 weeks and recovering my stamina for 2 more. Its been a real bitch. Plus my disabled mother has it now. This is following a nervous breakdown I had in June. Writing has been my passion and my mental health balm, but I've not been able to produce anything in months. So this... this is a fucking triumph!! I'm still working on all my other WIP, so please stick around. I'll get there... eventually :) I'm hoping to finish part two shortly and post in a week... ish.

Thank you all for the continued support! Additional Notes: Still hanging in there, long covid is a bitch, but it does improve. More or less. I am SO happy with myself that I've finished a story! Even a little self-indulgent two parter. As always, thank you all! Your kind words and encouragement have really helped me. Love you guys :)

Masterlist (Part One)

     Hospitals were noisy places.  Filled with squeaking wheels, scuffling shoes, and code calls.  The ICU was worse with its beeping monitors and hissing ventilators.  The constant stream of nurses and doctors talking in hushed concern about things like hypoxia and bradypnea and other terrifying medical babble.

     This wasn’t the first time Dean sat beside someone he cared about while they lingered between life and death.   He was a hunter; it came with the gig.  Broken bones and bullet holes.  The waiting and the worrying were pure hell, and he would know.  It was the reason he was so quick to put himself in the line of fire.  Not just to save a life, but to spare himself the agony of the wait.  Minutes that ticked by endlessly, ratcheting up the uncertainty.  Underscoring just how powerless he was.

     Never did it cross his mind that illness would snatch you away from him.  That you would simply get sick, like a normal person.  Pneumonia could be dangerous for anyone, but for someone with asthma, it could be deadly.

     You were sedated for three days while the ventilator breathed for you and gave your body a chance to rest and heal.  The doctors assured him that it was standard procedure, but damn was it intense.  Dean had never seen you look so fragile.  So pale.  You looked as if you could slip away at any moment, the only thing keeping you tethered to the Earthly realm were the wires and tubes attached to your body.   

     Dean took your hand.  He wondered about your soul.  Were you here with him?  Watching from somewhere nearby?  Or were you negotiating with a reaper?  Would you bargain for more time, or would you choose heaven?  A soul like yours was guaranteed a ticket to the penthouse. 

     It was in times like this that he cursed his profession.  What good was a lifetime’s worth of supernatural knowledge if he couldn’t use it to save you?  God knows he tried.  He tried every trick in the book, in the end it was Sam who talked sense into him.

     “She doesn’t need you to sell your soul Dean!  She just needs you.  Be there, hold her hand, tell her it’s going to be okay.  Let her know she isn’t alone.”

     Sammy was right, as he usually was.  The nurses said you’d shown enough improvement that they were taking you off the ventilator today.  As much as Dean wanted to believe it, he was cautious in his optimism. 

     He was so wrapped up in his own worry that he didn’t notice your fingers shifting against his palm.  Your eyelids fluttered, then went still.  It was so slight, that Dean thought he’d imagined it. 

     He desperately searched your face and held his breath.  God please…

     “Y/N?”

     A few seconds later you did it again, this time you gave his hand a proper squeeze and Dean felt like his heart was going to burst. 

     He squeezed back, his other hand coming up to brush your cheek, “Y/N… baby, can you hear me?”

     After several tries, you finally managed to open your eyes fully.  Exhausted, you looked around the room.  When your gaze landed on Dean, he smiled.  You tried to say his name and when you couldn’t, you panicked!  Choking on the tube shoved down your throat, your eyes went wide.

     “Hey!  It’s okay!  You’re in the hospital, Sweetheart.  Just stay calm.  We’ll get that tube out, let me go get the nurse.”

     He stood and your grip became desperate.  And strong.  Incredibly strong.  Tears trickled from the corners of your eyes as you tried to convey your thoughts.  You were wide awake, and you needed him.  Relief washed over him; no reapers would come knocking today. 

     “Okay, okay.  Shh…” he sat beside you and pressed a kiss to your forehead while his free hand hit the call button.  “I’ve got you; I’ve got you.  I’m not going anywhere.”

     Sam was walking down the corridor towards the ICU rooms with two large coffees balanced in one hand.  You were only allowed one visitor at a time, so he and Dean took turns.  Although, Dean always came back early.  And he begged the nurses to let him stay past visiting hours.  Sam got the impression they felt sorry for him, but knowing Dean, he would have found a way around the rules one way or another.

     When Sam saw his brother in the hallway, he quickened his pace.  He was leaning against the wall, bent at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. 

     “Dean?  What happened?  What’s going on?”

     Dean raised his head, sniffling back emotion, “She’s awake.  They’re... ah… they’re taking out that tube.”

     Sam caught the glossy sheen in Dean’s eyes.  He clapped a hand on his shoulder, “That’s fantastic.  Dean, that’s great.”

     Dean nodded and pulled Sam into a brief, tight hug then released him and took a coffee. 

     “Good thing you talked me out of selling my soul, huh?’

     You weren’t really sleeping when Sam and Dean walked into your new room in the regular section of the hospital.  But every muscle in your body was so taxed that even keeping your eyes open was an effort.  There was an oxygen mask covering your nose and mouth, but it was far more comfortable than that damn ventilator tube.  You were cold too, but that was part of being in a hospital.  It was all so familiar and disheartening.

     The squeak of the door prompted you to open your heavy eyes and you smiled.  The Winchesters were there, a welcome contrast of denim and flannel against the sterile hospital décor.  They had arms filled with gifts; balloons, books, a bag of watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and the biggest arrangement of flowers you’d ever seen.  Dozens of roses, hydrangeas, and snapdragons.  

     “Flowers.”

     Your voice was a raspy whisper behind the mask, but it still made Dean beam brightly. 

     “Hell yeah, Sammy and I bought out every white flower they had.”  He set the massive vase down on the table.  “They’re your favorite, right?”

     You nodded, tracing a finger over the edge of one perfect bloom.  You had a late-night debate with him eons ago about how white couldn’t be your favorite color because it wasn’t really a color.  It’s a shade.  Technically, it was a sum of all possible colors.  Hence, the debate.

     Sam pulled out a stuffed a huge, stuffed moose from behind his back.  It was impossibly soft with floppy antlers and was wearing one of his flannel shirts tied in place with a white velvet bow.

     You laughed, “Aww!  A… Win..chester of… my own.”

     Sam’s throat got tight as the halting cadence of your words.  Even with the oxygen, you were out of breath.  He leaned down and hugged you.  Normally, he would squeeze you tight and lift you off your feet just to make you giggle like a kid sister.  Today, he was careful.  Mindful of the electrodes and wires and of how fragile you felt in his arms. 

     “You’ve already got two Winchesters,” he said, kissing the top of your head.  “Add him to your collection.”

     Your eyes were drooping, even after just a few minutes your energy was completely depleted.  You let your head fall back against the pillow with a tired smile, “Thank you… Sammy.”

     “We should get out of here, let you sleep,” he replied, catching his brother’s attention.

     “Yeah,” Dean gave a reluctant nod.  “If you’re lucky, we’ll smuggle in one of those triple thick strawberry-kiwi shakes you like.”

     You grabbed hold of his hand again and tugged.  It was so much effort to talk, you hope he got the message. 

     A wordless look passed between the brothers and Sam took his cue, leaving the two of you alone.  You tried to focus on your breathing and on the warmth of Dean’s hand holding yours.  It took every bit of strength you had to stay awake, but it was so important.  You couldn’t let him leave, not yet.

     Dean wiped away the single tear that slid down your cheek.  “Hey, hey.  What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

     “I… I’m… s… sorry.”

     He soothed back your hair, “Sorry for what?”

     “Should have… gone… to… th… the doctor.”

     “No, hey, don’t worry about any of that.”

     “Scared… you.”

     Dean cupped your face with his large palm, “Listen to me.  I don’t want you to think about any of that stuff, okay?  It doesn't matter.  The only thing that matters is you getting better.  That’s all I care about.”

     You nodded; your eyes shuttered to half-mast.  “Tired.”

     He let out a chuckle and ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow, “I’ll bet you are.”

     You shook your head and pointed at him.  When he tilted his head in confusion, you patted the mattress beside you.

     He was exhausted.  It was etched in every line on his beautiful face.  His green eyes, the ones you had loved since you first looked into them were bloodshot.  His strong shoulders slumped under the strain of recent events.  Dean had been by your side for days, even after taking care of you back at the bunker.  It was a testament to his impressive stamina and force of will that he was still standing.

     Without a word, he turned down the lights, kicked off his boots and climbed into the narrow bed.  It should have been uncomfortable, given his size, but he gently arranged it so that you were partly settled on his chest.  Your weary body melted into the warmth he provided as his arms wrapped around you.  You were both slipped into a dreamless sleep without any effort at all.

     Three Weeks Later:      You were in the hospital eight days in total, three of them in the ICU.  When they finally released you, it was with a whole list of stipulations and guidelines.  Breathing exercises.  An oxygen tank for times when your levels dipped below a certain level.  Antibiotics the size of horse tranquilizers and updated rescue inhalers.  It was intense, but still preferable to staying one more night in the hospital.

     It was Sam alone who picked you up on your release date.  You were disappointed, but not surprised.  Dean was gone when you woke the morning after the two of you shared your hospital bed.  He texted you every day but only came back to visit you once when he and Sam dropped off some of your clothes. 

     It was okay, it really was. 

     You understood.  You’d scared him big time.  Frankly, you were still so sick that all you did was sleep anyway.  But when you were home and days passed with still no contact, you worried.  God bless Sam, he was right there every step of the way.  He drove you to therapy and helped you come up with a strength building regiment.  He kept you company and offered insight to his missing brother.

     “Give him some time, Y/N.  He’ll come around.  You know how he gets.”

     And so, you did.  Sam’s words offered solace, but they didn’t make up for the fact that you missed that salty, pain in the ass.  Somehow, the fact that Dean was just down the hall made you all the more lonely for him.  But you were determined to respect his need for privacy.  After everything that happened, you owed him that at the very least.

     When you were in the kitchen a few days later making one of Sam’s health smoothies, the last thing you expected was to hear Dean’s voice. 

     “Tell me you’re not gonna drink that.”

     You smiled but didn’t turn.  “Of course not.  I haven’t added the spirulina or wheat germ yet.”

     You heard him mutter something about pond scum under his breath while he rummaged through the fridge. 

     “I’ve got enough for two,” you teased.  “Should I get you a glass?”

     “Too bad your stay in the VIP suite didn’t improve your sense of humor, smartass.”

     You turned around and grinned at him.  God, he looked incredible!  Maybe it was not seeing him for a month, but he was a sight!  Dark jeans on bowed legs.  That red and black flannel shirt that somehow made him seem even broader.  Especially when he crossed his arms across his chest.  Like he was doing right now.  And glowering at you!  Ridiculous man!  You’d been busy recuperating from serious illness, and he looked like he wanted to reprimand you for leaving wet towels on the floor.  It might have pissed you off, if you weren’t so pleased to see him. 

     So, you laughed. 

     His expression went from sexy and grumpy to utterly baffled.  “Why are you laughing?”

     You shook your head with a goofy grin and answered honestly, “I’m just happy to see you.”

     He cautiously smiled back, “Yeah?’

     “Yeah.”

     “Huh.  Well in that case, you wanna get out of here?  I was thinking of going for a drive.”

     Your heart felt light, “I’ll get my coat.”

     Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he knew he had to.  Even if it killed him, and it just might.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made the hard choice.  Break a heart, save a life.  He may as well get it tattooed on his ass.  At this point it was more of a life motto than saving people, hunting things.  He glanced over at you gazing happily out the window and he tried to burn the image into his memory.  Beautiful.  Hands down the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.  Even after he’d ignored you for weeks and pushed you off on his baby brother, you laughed and forgave him. 

     You looked just like you always had, maybe a bit thinner from your time in the hospital.  But Sammy had been adamant about those smoothies of his.  Nutrient dense.  They tasted like absolute ass, but they certainly seemed to help you get your color back.  Your hair was shiny and bouncy, he loved it when it was bouncy like that.  Cascading over your shoulders and framing your face.  It looked so soft and smelled like peaches when you tossed it back.  Your eyes were bright and glowed with good health.  Looking at you now, it was hard to believe you’d been on a ventilator only a few weeks ago. 

     “Hey, you wanna get out and walk for a bit?”  You asked, pointing out one of your favorite state parks ahead.

     “Sure.  You bring your scarf?”

     “Obviously,” you replied, pulling out the length of soft, white fabric from your bag.

     It was still a bit chilly out, but all the snow had been cleared from the paths and only an inch or so remained around the trees.  Dean kept shooting glances your way, checking for signs of distress as the two of you walked along.

     “I’m not going to keel over, you know.”

     Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jacket.  “You need to be careful in the cold air, it’s no good for you.”

     “True, but walking is very good for me.  It helps build stamina.” 

     He didn’t reply to that and the two of you walked along in silence until you really couldn’t take it anymore.

     “It’s ridiculous, you know?  Me, having to rebuild stamina.  I was in the best shape of my life; I could run up ten flights of stairs and still chop the head off a vamp no problem.  Now I have to stop halfway through a beginner’s yoga class.”

     “Almost dying does that.”

     There was venom in his voice, but the fear was too.  Evidently, he hadn’t worked through it as much as you’d hoped. 

     “Is that why you’re kicking me out?  Because I almost died?”

     Dean stopped and turned to you, but he kept his eyes downcast.  “Y/N…”

     “Its really not fair.  You’ve almost died several times and I still keep you around.”  You tried to keep your tone light, but it was difficult with the tears threatening.

     “It’s not funny,” his eyes were getting red as he recalled the terrifying night he carried you into the E.R.  “You stopped breathing.  Your fucking heart stopped!”

     You knew this part.  After Dean closed himself off from you, you asked Sam to give you all the details.  Full cardiac arrest from a severe asthma attack, brought on by complications from pneumonia.  It had taken the doctors a while to stabilize you, but when they did you were so weak, they weren’t sure you were going to pull through.  Sam had a hard time talking about, even though you were sitting there alive and well in front of him.  That night shook them both to the core.

     You brought your hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

     He closed his eyes briefly, letting the warmth of your touch comfort him.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  All this time… a fucking two year long pandemic… Covid is a respiratory virus!  What if…”

     You hurt him.  Far more than you’d realized.  And you hated yourself for it. This was going to take much more than a simple reassurance to work through. 

     “Can we sit?”

     He led you to a park bench, “We should head back to the car, it’s too cold for you.”

     “I’m okay, Dean,” you grabbed his hands, “I really, really am.  And I’m sorry.  I didn’t deliberately keep it from you, I just didn’t think about it.  I know it’s hard to fathom, but I’ve lived with it my whole life.  The things I do to minimize my risk are second nature to me now. And I haven’t had an attack in years.”

     “This wasn’t my first trip to the ICU; I spent my childhood in and out of hospitals.  Mom was very protective.  The doctors had her so scared that she didn’t let me do much.  No sports, no sleepovers, no camping trips.  She even moved us to Glenwood Springs because of it.”

     “Like Doc Holliday.”

     You rolled your eyes out of habit.  Every time you mentioned your home, Dean spewed every bit of old west trivia he knew.  Which, you had to admit, was extensive.  Last time you were there he insisted on visiting the Doc Holliday museum, he even had you take his picture with gambler’s gun. 

     Then:      “Nice place,” Dean said, scanning the neatly maintained garden beds and brick walkways.

     “Yeah, it is.  Remember, this is just a quick stop so I can pick up some stuff.  Don’t do what you normally do.”

      “What are you talking about?”

     You ran a nervous hand through your hair and straightened your denim jacket, “That charming rogue routine you do whenever there’s a woman in front of you.”

     His grin turned cocky, “Sweetheart, that’s just me.  Can’t help it if the ladies love it.”

     You brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder with an impatient huff, “Rein it in, cowboy.”

     Before you could ring the bell, the front door swung open and revealed a woman who would have passed for your twin in her youth.  Tanned, with a bright white smile and silver bangles stacked on both arms.

     “Baby girl!”

     “Hi Momma,” you managed to say while she squeezed you tight.

     Your mother drew back and quickly scrutinized your appearance, “You taking care of yourself?  Regular appointments?  Feeling good?”

     “Yes, Ma’am.”

     That radiant smile was back, “Good girl!  And this tall drink of water must be that friend you told me about.”

     “Yes, this is Dean Winchester.  Dean, this is my mom, Beverly.”

     True to form, he turned up the charm to eleven.  “No way I’m gonna believe you are Y/N’s mother, you must be her sister.”

    “And you are the smoothest liar I’ve had on my doorstep,” Bev said, slipped her arm through Dean’s with a wink, “But please, don’t stop.  Why don’t we go out back and have coffee?  Y/N, I made that peach pie you’re so fond of!”

     “I love pie!”  Dean gave you an infuriating grin over your mother’s head as the two of them sailed into the house together.

     Three hours later, you had endured the torture of baby pictures and embarrassing stories from your adolescence.  While Dean supplied plenty of his own anecdotes of you getting lost in the grocery store and getting locked out of the motel room in only your underwear.  Luckily, the pie helped keep your mood from going sour. 

     “Okay, I’m going to head up and grab those boxes.”

     “Lift with your legs, Baby girl.”

     “Yes, Ma’am,” you replied, disappearing through the sliding glass door.

     Bev’s jovial mood turned serious as soon as her daughter was out of earshot.  “Okay, Winchester, shoot me straight.  How is my daughter?”

     Dean blinked in surprise, “I’m sorry?”

     “I may not be hip to everything going on, but I can feel the pair of you dancing around something big.  I’m not going stick my nose in, Y/N isn’t talking about it, and I respect that.  But I’m a mom and that girl is my whole life, so tell me… is she okay?  Do I need to worry about her?  About you?”

     Dean weighed his words carefully, “Y/N is… amazing.  She’s smart and strong.  She has the biggest vocabulary of anyone I’ve ever known, and she loves to show it off.  Even when she shouldn’t.  But she knows how to handle herself.  She kicks ass.”

     The corner of Bev’s mouth quirked, “It runs in the family.”

     “I can see that.”

     She leaned back in her chair and studied him, “You seem like a decent man, the sort who keeps his word.  That being the case, I have a favor to ask.  Keep an eye on my girl for me.”

     “Already done,” was his quick reply.

     Bev shook her head, “It’s not the dangers of the world I’m talking about.  I’m talking about looking after her when she’s not looking after herself.  Y/N… has a lot of life to live and when she gets busy… she just doesn’t see how far gone she is until she falls flat on her face.”

     Dean leaned forward, elbows on knees, “You’ve got my word, Bev.  I’ll never let her fall.”

     Now:      “I like your mom,” Dean looked down at his boots.  “She made me promise to look after you.”

     “You never told me that.”

     “I got the impression she didn’t want me to.  Thought maybe she had a mother’s intuition about you getting into the hunting business.  Guess she was talking about something else.”

     You let your gaze drift over to the lake in the distance, half thawed already.  It would be an early spring this year.  A sign of hope for the future.

     “We got in this huge fight when I was nineteen.  I wanted to move out, go to college, see the world.  I missed out on so much as a sick kid, but I survived it.  I worked hard to strengthen my lungs and build up stamina.  I followed every doctor’s order to the letter so that I could actually live my life like a normal person… and it worked, but when the time came, I still didn’t have her support.  I was so pissed!  I packed a bag and left in the middle of the night.”

     “How’d that go over?”

     “I hadn’t yet mastered the art of covering my tracks.  Plus, she was dating the sheriff.  I was back home twenty-four hours later.” 

     Dean snorted, “Amateur.” 

     “Mom and I came to an agreement after that.  I stay local, stay in communication, and keep doing everything my doctors ask and in return, she would stop focusing on my condition like it was a death sentence.”  You shrugged, “Things were better after that.”

    “Your mom is awesome, I’m glad she supports you…. You’re lucky, Y/N.”

     Dean took your hand, surprising you.  His fingers linked with yours, rubbing his thumb over yours.  Then he frowned, his brows drew down over his eyes in worry.  Like a black cloud had settled over his heart. 

     “Y/N…”

     You knew what he wanted to say, you could feel it.  You could see it in his eyes whenever he dared to look at you.  The sorrow.  All you wanted to do was save him from it.  From himself.

     “It’s amazing how much we still don’t know about how the human body works,” you blurted out, making him blink in confusion.

     “What?”

     “Being sedated, for example.  Medical experts still aren’t sure why some people retain a certain level of consciousness and others remember nothing.  When I was seven, I was in the hospital for a month, my mother read The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe to me even though I wasn’t awake.  When I came out of it, I remembered the whole thing.” 

     You could see the realization slowly register in his beautiful eyes.  If you heard your mother, you must have heard him.

     Then:      It was cold in your room.  You hated being cold, it was one of your main complaints about the bunker.  You cranked the thermostat, took boiling hot showers, and frequently stole clothes from both Winchesters.  Although, you seemed to favor Dean’s over his brother’s.  A fact he griped about, but secretly liked.  He liked knowing that you felt at home enough to make yourself comfortable.  If you were comfortable, maybe you would stay. 

     Dean brought your favorite blanket and tucked it around you, careful of the machines and wires.  “There you go, Sweetheart.  Just like home.”

     He sat in the stiff chair beside your bed and studied your peaceful face.  He tried to think of you as an enchanted princess.  Sleeping Beauty, just waiting for the right prince to swing by and break the curse.  Unlikely in his world.  Still… it was easier than the truth.

     He might have been able to fool himself for a while if it weren’t for that breathing tube.

     “Actually, that’s a lie...  this place is nothing like home.  Home has all the amenities, right?  I’ll bet this state-of-the-art medical facility doesn’t even have a firing range.  Or a dungeon!” 

     “Course, it wasn’t always so awesome.  A lot of spiders when we first moved in.  Plus, Sammy and I added our personal touches to make it more comfortable.  That mini fridge in the library, totally my idea.  It really pulled the room together, you know?”

     He chuckled a little at his Big Lebowski reference, disheartened when the only response was the hiss of the ventilator. 

     He reached over and gently combed his fingers through your hair.  Your skin was cool to the touch since your fever broke in the night.  That had to be a good sign, right? 

     “I’ve got a confession, but you gotta promise not to tell Sam, okay?  I never really wanted to live in the bunker full time.  Not at first.  Don’t get me wrong, I liked it!  It was our personal Batcave!  But Batman… he doesn’t live in the Batcave.  The Batcave is for work only.  And that was my plan.  Work in the bunker as a base of operations but live like we always did.  On the road.”

     Dean’s hand moved to yours, toying with your fingers.  You had such elegant hands.  You never wore jewelry, just like you never wore make-up.  You didn’t have a closet full of clothes.  You wore things of nice quality, but you didn’t have lots of them.  Only what you needed.  Same with everything else, you didn’t do fussy or extravagant.  But it wasn’t because you liked to keep things simple, it was because you were focused on living your life, not adorning it.  

     He liked that about you.  You were straightforward and up for anything.  You never hesitated to jump right in.  You were quick on your feet and quick with your wit.  You came up with better cover stories than he or Sam ever did.  Your contributions to the team were welcome and seamless, almost from the start.

     With anyone else, your eagerness might have come across as a need to prove yourself.  But you didn’t seem to be afflicted in that way.  You knew your worth.  You were confident.  And that rubbed off on everyone you came in contact with.  Cops, sheriffs, coroners, witnesses, victims.  All of them responded to you in ways that were remarkable.  Your presence calmed them.  Dean too.

     “The longer we stayed in the bunker, the more obvious it became that life on the road was never gonna be like it was before.  Sammy loved it, and I never could deny that kid anything.  But for me…. I dunno.  It took a while.  I even slept in Baby those first few nights.  Eventually, I picked out a room, got a bed that remembers me, and it was better.”

     “You were our first guest; did you know that?  Well Cas was, but he doesn’t sleep so that doesn’t really count.  You were the first non-Winchester to sleep in the Batcave.  On that old army cot, remember?  Tried to get you to take my bed… stubborn.  You were so stiff the next day you could barely walk, but you stuck it out.  You should have taken me up on it, I was on the couch most nights anyway.  Nightmares.”

     “I’ll never forget the morning I woke up and found you there with me.  All warm and cuddled up against me.  I moved and you shushed me in your sleep, mumbled that everything was okay.  God, I don’t think I’d ever slept that good.  We went to that diner in town for breakfast and I asked you to move in.  Sammy nearly choked on his egg whites,” Dean laughed softly at the memory.  “The bunker was a home then.”

     “If you were awake, you’d probably laugh and tell me what I sap I am.  And you’d be right, but I can’t help it.  It’s you, Y/N.  You have this magic… I don’t know what else to call it.  You don’t even have to say anything, and my heart starts to race.  I think about you, more than I should.  In ways that I shouldn’t, and I can’t stop.  I don’t want to stop.”

     “I love you, Y/N.  In case you don’t know; in case you can hear me in your dreams right now… I love you.  I’ve always loved you and if you stay, if you come back to me… I’m going to show you every day just how much.”

     Now:      He tried to speak, but you moved your fingers to his lips to stop him.  Tears shimmered in your eyes, but you managed a wavering smile. 

     “I love you too.”

     You watched the conflicting emotions flicker across his handsome face.  Joy and torment.  Ecstasy and pain.  He traced the underside of your jaw with his fingers, making your shiver inside and your eyes closed on a sigh.  When his lips connected with yours, it was electric!  The world shifted.  Colors, tastes, sensations, all redefined from that moment.  Soft and warm and connected on a level that could only come from love. 

     It was everything you’d ever dreamt his kiss could be, and it ended far too quickly.

     He rested his forehead against yours, puffs of white, heated breath mingling between you.  After a few minutes, he brushed the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, “Don’t cry, Sweetheart.  It breaks my heart when you cry.”

     “Don’t send me away.  Please don’t send me away.”

     “Baby, that bunker is no place for you.  There are no windows, the ventilation is crap, there’s a mildew problem.  I talked to those doctors about the type of environment an asthmatic should live in… Bomb shelter from the fifties didn’t make the cut.”

     “I’ve been living there for five years without an issue,” you pointed out.

     “Yeah, with a humidifier and inhalers.  But it’s different now, that round of pneumonia damaged your lungs.  You need to be someplace where its easier to breathe, not harder.”

     “You’re right.  Which is why Sam and I have been designing a new HVAC system.”

     That stopped him, “Really?  Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

     “Because you went all emo and hid in your room for a month.”

     “I’m not emo!  What kind of HVAC system?”

     “A kick ass one,” you grinned so that your tongue peeked out between your teeth.  “Any other concerns?”

     “What about hunting?” he challenged.

     “I don’t know,” you answered honestly and there was a pang of longing that went with it.  “I have no idea if I’ll ever get back to the physical condition I was before all of this.  No matter how hard I work for it or wish for it and the truth is… going into the field with that kind of a handicap is not in the cards.”

     Dean nodded grimly and dropped his gaze to his lap.  Admitting the possibility of an early retirement was killing you, and he knew it.  You loved hunting, it was as much a part of you as it was for him.  The uncertainty of not knowing if you could do it again, must be terrifying for you.

     “I’m sorry.”

     “I’m not.”  His head shot up and you shrugged, “Most hunters don’t get sidelined, they get killed.  My life might not look they way I thought it was going to, but I’m still here.  Living it.  I’m going to take that win and run with it.”

     “You’re amazing, you know that?  You’re so damn strong… your life got turned upside down and you just roll with it.”  Those impossibly green eyes looked at you with such awe, like he couldn’t quiet believe that you actually existed. 

     “You deserve the best, and that’s not me.”

     “That’s not for you to say.”

     “Doesn’t matter, it’s my choice.”

     “That’s where you’re wrong,” you lifted your chin in proud defiance, “Team Freewill, right?  I will always have a choice, no matter what hand you try to deal me.  I love you, Dean Winchester!  And I am never going to stop.  And I am never going to disappear from your life.  Even if you tell me to hit the bricks, I’ll still call and text and email and whatever just to make sure you’re still alive and well.  Even if this ends, I will still love you!  You ridiculous man!”

     There was a change in his gaze, subtle but there all the same.  He shook his head with a chuckle.  He knew when he was beat, and he was grateful for it.

     “Your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink when you get all worked up, you know that?”

     “My cheeks are pink because it’s freezing out here!”

     Dean ripped his coat off and wrapped it over yours, “Damn it, Y/N!  I knew you were cold!”

     “Well, if you were any kind of a boyfriend, you’d take my back to the car and warm me up properly!”

     He was pulling the hood up over your head when he paused, “Boyfriend, huh?”

     “Yeah, the kind that warms his girl up in the backseat,” you grinned and playfully rubbed your nose against his.

     He growled in your ear and stood, sweeping you up in his arms and making you yelp in delight. 

     “Dean!  I can still walk, you know!”

     “Save your energy, Sweetheart, you’re gonna need it.  Tonight, we’re gonna fog up all the windows!”

TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis  @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @chucksfavouriteprophet

#dean winchester fanfiction #spn fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x you #breathe free #dean x sick!reader #sickfic

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Breathe Free (Part Two)

Summary: You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, thank you very much! Dean knew that, he also knew better. He’d seen you sick plenty of times in the past five years, but this was different. This was much more than a cold, but you were so stubborn about doctors! Dean Winchester isn’t about to let you slip away, even if it means going against your wishes. He only hopes he’s not too late!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean x Reader, Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Reader, Hospitals, Kissing, fluff

Word Count: 5873

One Shot - Two Parts

Author’s Notes: I have been sick with Covid for a month. Well… down sick for 2 ½ weeks and recovering my stamina for 2 more. Its been a real bitch. Plus my disabled mother has it now. This is following a nervous breakdown I had in June. Writing has been my passion and my mental health balm, but I’ve not been able to produce anything in months. So this… this is a fucking triumph!! I’m still working on all my other WIP, so please stick around. I’ll get there… eventually :) I’m hoping to finish part two shortly and post in a week… ish.

Thank you all for the continued support! Additional Notes: Still hanging in there, long covid is a bitch, but it does improve. More or less. I am SO happy with myself that I’ve finished a story! Even a little self-indulgent two parter. As always, thank you all! Your kind words and encouragement have really helped me. Love you guys :) Masterlist Breathe Free (Part One)

     Hospitals were noisy places.  Filled with squeaking wheels, scuffling shoes, and code calls.  The ICU was worse with its beeping monitors and hissing ventilators.  The constant stream of nurses and doctors talking in hushed concern about things like hypoxia and bradypnea and other terrifying medical babble.

     This wasn’t the first time Dean sat beside someone he cared about while they lingered between life and death.   He was a hunter; it came with the gig.  Broken bones and bullet holes.  The waiting and the worrying were pure hell, and he would know.  It was the reason he was so quick to put himself in the line of fire.  Not just to save a life, but to spare himself the agony of the wait.  Minutes that ticked by endlessly, ratcheting up the uncertainty.  Underscoring just how powerless he was.

     Never did it cross his mind that illness would snatch you away from him.  That you would simply get sick, like a normal person.  Pneumonia could be dangerous for anyone, but for someone with asthma, it could be deadly.

     You were sedated for three days while the ventilator breathed for you and gave your body a chance to rest and heal.  The doctors assured him that it was standard procedure, but damn was it intense.  Dean had never seen you look so fragile.  So pale.  You looked as if you could slip away at any moment, the only thing keeping you tethered to the Earthly realm were the wires and tubes attached to your body.   

     Dean took your hand.  He wondered about your soul.  Were you here with him?  Watching from somewhere nearby?  Or were you negotiating with a reaper?  Would you bargain for more time, or would you choose heaven?  A soul like yours was guaranteed a ticket to the penthouse. 

     It was in times like this that he cursed his profession.  What good was a lifetime’s worth of supernatural knowledge if he couldn’t use it to save you?  God knows he tried.  He tried every trick in the book, in the end it was Sam who talked sense into him.

     “She doesn’t need you to sell your soul Dean!  She just needs you.  Be there, hold her hand, tell her it’s going to be okay.  Let her know she isn’t alone.”

Sammy was right, as he usually was.  The nurses said you’d shown enough improvement that they were taking you off the ventilator today.  As much as Dean wanted to believe it, he was cautious in his optimism. 

     He was so wrapped up in his own worry that he didn’t notice your fingers shifting against his palm.  Your eyelids fluttered, then went still.  It was so slight, that Dean thought he’d imagined it. 

     He desperately searched your face and held his breath.  God please…

“Y/N?”

     A few seconds later you did it again, this time you gave his hand a proper squeeze and Dean felt like his heart was going to burst. 

     He squeezed back, his other hand coming up to brush your cheek, “Y/N… baby, can you hear me?”

     After several tries, you finally managed to open your eyes fully.  Exhausted, you looked around the room.  When your gaze landed on Dean, he smiled.  You tried to say his name and when you couldn’t, you panicked!  Choking on the tube shoved down your throat, your eyes went wide.

     “Hey!  It’s okay!  You’re in the hospital, Sweetheart.  Just stay calm.  We’ll get that tube out, let me go get the nurse.”

     He stood and your grip became desperate.  And strong.  Incredibly strong.  Tears trickled from the corners of your eyes as you tried to convey your thoughts.  You were wide awake, and you needed him.  Relief washed over him; no reapers would come knocking today. 

     “Okay, okay.  Shh…” he sat beside you and pressed a kiss to your forehead while his free hand hit the call button.  “I’ve got you; I’ve got you.  I’m not going anywhere.”

     Sam was walking down the corridor towards the ICU rooms with two large coffees balanced in one hand.  You were only allowed one visitor at a time, so he and Dean took turns.  Although, Dean always came back early.  And he begged the nurses to let him stay past visiting hours.  Sam got the impression they felt sorry for him, but knowing Dean, he would have found a way around the rules one way or another.

     When Sam saw his brother in the hallway, he quickened his pace.  He was leaning against the wall, bent at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. 

     “Dean?  What happened?  What’s going on?”

     Dean raised his head, sniffling back emotion, “She’s awake.  They’re… ah… they’re taking out that tube.”

     Sam caught the glossy sheen in Dean’s eyes.  He clapped a hand on his shoulder, “That’s fantastic.  Dean, that’s great.”

     Dean nodded and pulled Sam into a brief, tight hug then released him and took a coffee. 

     “Good thing you talked me out of selling my soul, huh?’

     You weren’t really sleeping when Sam and Dean walked into your new room in the regular section of the hospital.  But every muscle in your body was so taxed that even keeping your eyes open was an effort.  There was an oxygen mask covering your nose and mouth, but it was far more comfortable than that damn ventilator tube.  You were cold too, but that was part of being in a hospital.  It was all so familiar and disheartening.

     The squeak of the door prompted you to open your heavy eyes and you smiled.  The Winchesters were there, a welcome contrast of denim and flannel against the sterile hospital décor.  They had arms filled with gifts; balloons, books, a bag of watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and the biggest arrangement of flowers you’d ever seen.  Dozens of roses, hydrangeas, and snapdragons.  

     “Flowers.”

     Your voice was a raspy whisper behind the mask, but it still made Dean beam brightly. 

     “Hell yeah, Sammy and I bought out every white flower they had.”  He set the massive vase down on the table.  “They’re your favorite, right?”

     You nodded, tracing a finger over the edge of one perfect bloom.  You had a late-night debate with him eons ago about how white couldn’t be your favorite color because it wasn’t really a color.  It’s a shade.  Technically, it was a sum of all possible colors.  Hence, the debate.

     Sam pulled out a stuffed a huge, stuffed moose from behind his back.  It was impossibly soft with floppy antlers and was wearing one of his flannel shirts tied in place with a white velvet bow.

     You laughed, “Aww!  A… Win..chester of… my own.”

     Sam’s throat got tight as the halting cadence of your words.  Even with the oxygen, you were out of breath.  He leaned down and hugged you.  Normally, he would squeeze you tight and lift you off your feet just to make you giggle like a kid sister.  Today, he was careful.  Mindful of the electrodes and wires and of how fragile you felt in his arms. 

     “You’ve already got two Winchesters,” he said, kissing the top of your head.  “Add him to your collection.”

     Your eyes were drooping, even after just a few minutes your energy was completely depleted.  You let your head fall back against the pillow with a tired smile, “Thank you… Sammy.”

     “We should get out of here, let you sleep,” he replied, catching his brother’s attention.

     “Yeah,” Dean gave a reluctant nod.  “If you’re lucky, we’ll smuggle in one of those triple thick strawberry-kiwi shakes you like.”

     You grabbed hold of his hand again and tugged.  It was so much effort to talk, you hope he got the message. 

     A wordless look passed between the brothers and Sam took his cue, leaving the two of you alone.  You tried to focus on your breathing and on the warmth of Dean’s hand holding yours.  It took every bit of strength you had to stay awake, but it was so important.  You couldn’t let him leave, not yet.

     Dean wiped away the single tear that slid down your cheek.  “Hey, hey.  What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

     “I… I’m… s… sorry.”

     He soothed back your hair, “Sorry for what?”

     “Should have… gone… to… th… the doctor.”

     “No, hey, don’t worry about any of that.”

     “Scared… you.”

     Dean cupped your face with his large palm, “Listen to me.  I don’t want you to think about any of that stuff, okay?  It doesn’t matter.  The only thing that matters is you getting better.  That’s all I care about.”

     You nodded; your eyes shuttered to half-mast.  “Tired.”

     He let out a chuckle and ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow, “I’ll bet you are.”

     You shook your head and pointed at him.  When he tilted his head in confusion, you patted the mattress beside you.

     He was exhausted.  It was etched in every line on his beautiful face.  His green eyes, the ones you had loved since you first looked into them were bloodshot.  His strong shoulders slumped under the strain of recent events.  Dean had been by your side for days, even after taking care of you back at the bunker.  It was a testament to his impressive stamina and force of will that he was still standing.

     Without a word, he turned down the lights, kicked off his boots and climbed into the narrow bed.  It should have been uncomfortable, given his size, but he gently arranged it so that you were partly settled on his chest.  Your weary body melted into the warmth he provided as his arms wrapped around you.  You were both slipped into a dreamless sleep without any effort at all.

     Three Weeks Later:      You were in the hospital eight days in total, three of them in the ICU.  When they finally released you, it was with a whole list of stipulations and guidelines.  Breathing exercises.  An oxygen tank for times when your levels dipped below a certain level.  Antibiotics the size of horse tranquilizers and updated rescue inhalers.  It was intense, but still preferable to staying one more night in the hospital.

     It was Sam alone who picked you up on your release date.  You were disappointed, but not surprised.  Dean was gone when you woke the morning after the two of you shared your hospital bed.  He texted you every day but only came back to visit you once when he and Sam dropped off some of your clothes. 

     It was okay, it really was. 

     You understood.  You’d scared him big time.  Frankly, you were still so sick that all you did was sleep anyway.  But when you were home and days passed with still no contact, you worried.  God bless Sam, he was right there every step of the way.  He drove you to therapy and helped you come up with a strength building regiment.  He kept you company and offered insight to his missing brother.

     “Give him some time, Y/N.  He’ll come around.  You know how he gets.”

And so, you did.  Sam’s words offered solace, but they didn’t make up for the fact that you missed that salty, pain in the ass.  Somehow, the fact that Dean was just down the hall made you all the more lonely for him.  But you were determined to respect his need for privacy.  After everything that happened, you owed him that at the very least.

     When you were in the kitchen a few days later making one of Sam’s health smoothies, the last thing you expected was to hear Dean’s voice. 

     “Tell me you’re not gonna drink that.”

     You smiled but didn’t turn.  “Of course not.  I haven’t added the spirulina or wheat germ yet.”

     You heard him mutter something about pond scum under his breath while he rummaged through the fridge. 

     “I’ve got enough for two,” you teased.  “Should I get you a glass?”

     “Too bad your stay in the VIP suite didn’t improve your sense of humor, smartass.”

     You turned around and grinned at him.  God, he looked incredible!  Maybe it was not seeing him for a month, but he was a sight!  Dark jeans on bowed legs.  That red and black flannel shirt that somehow made him seem even broader.  Especially when he crossed his arms across his chest.  Like he was doing right now.  And glowering at you!  Ridiculous man!  You’d been busy recuperating from serious illness, and he looked like he wanted to reprimand you for leaving wet towels on the floor.  It might have pissed you off, if you weren’t so pleased to see him. 

     So, you laughed. 

     His expression went from sexy and grumpy to utterly baffled.  “Why are you laughing?”

     You shook your head with a goofy grin and answered honestly, “I’m just happy to see you.”

     He cautiously smiled back, “Yeah?’

     “Yeah.”

     “Huh.  Well in that case, you wanna get out of here?  I was thinking of going for a drive.”

     Your heart felt light, “I’ll get my coat.”

     Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he knew he had to.  Even if it killed him, and it just might.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made the hard choice.  Break a heart, save a life.  He may as well get it tattooed on his ass.  At this point it was more of a life motto than saving people, hunting things.  He glanced over at you gazing happily out the window and he tried to burn the image into his memory.  Beautiful.  Hands down the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.  Even after he’d ignored you for weeks and pushed you off on his baby brother, you laughed and forgave him. 

     You looked just like you always had, maybe a bit thinner from your time in the hospital.  But Sammy had been adamant about those smoothies of his.  Nutrient dense.  They tasted like absolute ass, but they certainly seemed to help you get your color back.  Your hair was shiny and bouncy, he loved it when it was bouncy like that.  Cascading over your shoulders and framing your face.  It looked so soft and smelled like peaches when you tossed it back.  Your eyes were bright and glowed with good health.  Looking at you now, it was hard to believe you’d been on a ventilator only a few weeks ago. 

     “Hey, you wanna get out and walk for a bit?”  You asked, pointing out one of your favorite state parks ahead.

     “Sure.  You bring your scarf?”

     “Obviously,” you replied, pulling out the length of soft, white fabric from your bag.

     It was still a bit chilly out, but all the snow had been cleared from the paths and only an inch or so remained around the trees.  Dean kept shooting glances your way, checking for signs of distress as the two of you walked along.

     “I’m not going to keel over, you know.”

     Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jacket.  “You need to be careful in the cold air, it’s no good for you.”

     “True, but walking is very good for me.  It helps build stamina.” 

     He didn’t reply to that and the two of you walked along in silence until you really couldn’t take it anymore.

     “It’s ridiculous, you know?  Me, having to rebuild stamina.  I was in the best shape of my life; I could run up ten flights of stairs and still chop the head off a vamp no problem.  Now I have to stop halfway through a beginner’s yoga class.”

     “Almost dying does that.”

     There was venom in his voice, but the fear was too.  Evidently, he hadn’t worked through it as much as you’d hoped. 

     “Is that why you’re kicking me out?  Because I almost died?”

     Dean stopped and turned to you, but he kept his eyes downcast.  “Y/N…”

     “Its really not fair.  You’ve almost died several times and I still keep you around.”  You tried to keep your tone light, but it was difficult with the tears threatening.

     “It’s not funny,” his eyes were getting red as he recalled the terrifying night he carried you into the E.R.  “You stopped breathing.  Your fucking heart stopped!”

     You knew this part.  After Dean closed himself off from you, you asked Sam to give you all the details.  Full cardiac arrest from a severe asthma attack, brought on by complications from pneumonia.  It had taken the doctors a while to stabilize you, but when they did you were so weak, they weren’t sure you were going to pull through.  Sam had a hard time talking about, even though you were sitting there alive and well in front of him.  That night shook them both to the core.

     You brought your hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

     He closed his eyes briefly, letting the warmth of your touch comfort him.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  All this time… a fucking two year long pandemic… Covid is a respiratory virus!  What if…”

     You hurt him.  Far more than you’d realized.  And you hated yourself for it. This was going to take much more than a simple reassurance to work through. 

     “Can we sit?”

     He led you to a park bench, “We should head back to the car, it’s too cold for you.”

     “I’m okay, Dean,” you grabbed his hands, “I really, really am.  And I’m sorry.  I didn’t deliberately keep it from you, I just didn’t think about it.  I know it’s hard to fathom, but I’ve lived with it my whole life.  The things I do to minimize my risk are second nature to me now. And I haven’t had an attack in years.”

     “This wasn’t my first trip to the ICU; I spent my childhood in and out of hospitals.  Mom was very protective.  The doctors had her so scared that she didn’t let me do much.  No sports, no sleepovers, no camping trips.  She even moved us to Glenwood Springs because of it.”

     “Like Doc Holliday.”

     You rolled your eyes out of habit.  Every time you mentioned your home, Dean spewed every bit of old west trivia he knew.  Which, you had to admit, was extensive.  Last time you were there he insisted on visiting the Doc Holliday museum, he even had you take his picture with gambler’s gun. 

     Then:      “Nice place,” Dean said, scanning the neatly maintained garden beds and brick walkways.

     “Yeah, it is.  Remember, this is just a quick stop so I can pick up some stuff.  Don’t do what you normally do.”

      “What are you talking about?”

     You ran a nervous hand through your hair and straightened your denim jacket, “That charming rogue routine you do whenever there’s a woman in front of you.”

     His grin turned cocky, “Sweetheart, that’s just me.  Can’t help it if the ladies love it.”

     You brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder with an impatient huff, “Rein it in, cowboy.”

     Before you could ring the bell, the front door swung open and revealed a woman who would have passed for your twin in her youth.  Tanned, with a bright white smile and silver bangles stacked on both arms.

     “Baby girl!”

     “Hi Momma,” you managed to say while she squeezed you tight.

     Your mother drew back and quickly scrutinized your appearance, “You taking care of yourself?  Regular appointments?  Feeling good?”

     “Yes, Ma’am.”

     That radiant smile was back, “Good girl!  And this tall drink of water must be that friend you told me about.”

     “Yes, this is Dean Winchester.  Dean, this is my mom, Beverly.”

     True to form, he turned up the charm to eleven.  “No way I’m gonna believe you are Y/N’s mother, you must be her sister.”

    “And you are the smoothest liar I’ve had on my doorstep,” Bev said, slipped her arm through Dean’s with a wink, “But please, don’t stop.  Why don’t we go out back and have coffee?  Y/N, I made that peach pie you’re so fond of!”

     “I love pie!”  Dean gave you an infuriating grin over your mother’s head as the two of them sailed into the house together.

     Three hours later, you had endured the torture of baby pictures and embarrassing stories from your adolescence.  While Dean supplied plenty of his own anecdotes of you getting lost in the grocery store and getting locked out of the motel room in only your underwear.  Luckily, the pie helped keep your mood from going sour. 

     “Okay, I’m going to head up and grab those boxes.”

     “Lift with your legs, Baby girl.”

     “Yes, Ma’am,” you replied, disappearing through the sliding glass door.

     Bev’s jovial mood turned serious as soon as her daughter was out of earshot.  “Okay, Winchester, shoot me straight.  How is my daughter?”

     Dean blinked in surprise, “I’m sorry?”

     “I may not be hip to everything going on, but I can feel the pair of you dancing around something big.  I’m not going stick my nose in, Y/N isn’t talking about it, and I respect that.  But I’m a mom and that girl is my whole life, so tell me… is she okay?  Do I need to worry about her?  About you?”

     Dean weighed his words carefully, “Y/N is… amazing.  She’s smart and strong.  She has the biggest vocabulary of anyone I’ve ever known, and she loves to show it off.  Even when she shouldn’t.  But she knows how to handle herself.  She kicks ass.”

     The corner of Bev’s mouth quirked, “It runs in the family.”

     “I can see that.”

     She leaned back in her chair and studied him, “You seem like a decent man, the sort who keeps his word.  That being the case, I have a favor to ask.  Keep an eye on my girl for me.”

     “Already done,” was his quick reply.

     Bev shook her head, “It’s not the dangers of the world I’m talking about.  I’m talking about looking after her when she’s not looking after herself.  Y/N… has a lot of life to live and when she gets busy… she just doesn’t see how far gone she is until she falls flat on her face.”

     Dean leaned forward, elbows on knees, “You’ve got my word, Bev.  I’ll never let her fall.”

Now:      “I like your mom,” Dean looked down at his boots.  “She made me promise to look after you.”

     “You never told me that.”

     “I got the impression she didn’t want me to.  Thought maybe she had a mother’s intuition about you getting into the hunting business.  Guess she was talking about something else.”

     You let your gaze drift over to the lake in the distance, half thawed already.  It would be an early spring this year.  A sign of hope for the future.

     “We got in this huge fight when I was nineteen.  I wanted to move out, go to college, see the world.  I missed out on so much as a sick kid, but I survived it.  I worked hard to strengthen my lungs and build up stamina.  I followed every doctor’s order to the letter so that I could actually live my life like a normal person… and it worked, but when the time came, I still didn’t have her support.  I was so pissed!  I packed a bag and left in the middle of the night.”

     “How’d that go over?”

     “I hadn’t yet mastered the art of covering my tracks.  Plus, she was dating the sheriff.  I was back home twenty-four hours later.” 

     Dean snorted, “Amateur.” 

     “Mom and I came to an agreement after that.  I stay local, stay in communication, and keep doing everything my doctors ask and in return, she would stop focusing on my condition like it was a death sentence.”  You shrugged, “Things were better after that.”

    “Your mom is awesome, I’m glad she supports you…. You’re lucky, Y/N.”

     Dean took your hand, surprising you.  His fingers linked with yours, rubbing his thumb over yours.  Then he frowned, his brows drew down over his eyes in worry.  Like a black cloud had settled over his heart. 

     “Y/N…”

     You knew what he wanted to say, you could feel it.  You could see it in his eyes whenever he dared to look at you.  The sorrow.  All you wanted to do was save him from it.  From himself.

     “It’s amazing how much we still don’t know about how the human body works,” you blurted out, making him blink in confusion.

     “What?”

     “Being sedated, for example.  Medical experts still aren’t sure why some people retain a certain level of consciousness and others remember nothing.  When I was seven, I was in the hospital for a month, my mother read The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe to me even though I wasn’t awake.  When I came out of it, I remembered the whole thing.” 

     You could see the realization slowly register in his beautiful eyes.  If you heard your mother, you must have heard him.

     Then:      It was cold in your room.  You hated being cold, it was one of your main complaints about the bunker.  You cranked the thermostat, took boiling hot showers, and frequently stole clothes from both Winchesters.  Although, you seemed to favor Dean’s over his brother’s.  A fact he griped about, but secretly liked.  He liked knowing that you felt at home enough to make yourself comfortable.  If you were comfortable, maybe you would stay. 

     Dean brought your favorite blanket and tucked it around you, careful of the machines and wires.  “There you go, Sweetheart.  Just like home.”

     He sat in the stiff chair beside your bed and studied your peaceful face.  He tried to think of you as an enchanted princess.  Sleeping Beauty, just waiting for the right prince to swing by and break the curse.  Unlikely in his world.  Still… it was easier than the truth.

     He might have been able to fool himself for a while if it weren’t for that breathing tube.

     “Actually, that’s a lie…  this place is nothing like home.  Home has all the amenities, right?  I’ll bet this state-of-the-art medical facility doesn’t even have a firing range.  Or a dungeon!” 

     “Course, it wasn’t always so awesome.  A lot of spiders when we first moved in.  Plus, Sammy and I added our personal touches to make it more comfortable.  That mini fridge in the library, totally my idea.  It really pulled the room together, you know?”

     He chuckled a little at his Big Lebowski reference, disheartened when the only response was the hiss of the ventilator. 

     He reached over and gently combed his fingers through your hair.  Your skin was cool to the touch since your fever broke in the night.  That had to be a good sign, right? 

     “I’ve got a confession, but you gotta promise not to tell Sam, okay?  I never really wanted to live in the bunker full time.  Not at first.  Don’t get me wrong, I liked it!  It was our personal Batcave!  But Batman… he doesn’t live in the Batcave.  The Batcave is for work only.  And that was my plan.  Work in the bunker as a base of operations but live like we always did.  On the road.”

     Dean’s hand moved to yours, toying with your fingers.  You had such elegant hands.  You never wore jewelry, just like you never wore make-up.  You didn’t have a closet full of clothes.  You wore things of nice quality, but you didn’t have lots of them.  Only what you needed.  Same with everything else, you didn’t do fussy or extravagant.  But it wasn’t because you liked to keep things simple, it was because you were focused on living your life, not adorning it.  

     He liked that about you.  You were straightforward and up for anything.  You never hesitated to jump right in.  You were quick on your feet and quick with your wit.  You came up with better cover stories than he or Sam ever did.  Your contributions to the team were welcome and seamless, almost from the start.

     With anyone else, your eagerness might have come across as a need to prove yourself.  But you didn’t seem to be afflicted in that way.  You knew your worth.  You were confident.  And that rubbed off on everyone you came in contact with.  Cops, sheriffs, coroners, witnesses, victims.  All of them responded to you in ways that were remarkable.  Your presence calmed them.  Dean too.

     “The longer we stayed in the bunker, the more obvious it became that life on the road was never gonna be like it was before.  Sammy loved it, and I never could deny that kid anything.  But for me…. I dunno.  It took a while.  I even slept in Baby those first few nights.  Eventually, I picked out a room, got a bed that remembers me, and it was better.”

     “You were our first guest; did you know that?  Well Cas was, but he doesn’t sleep so that doesn’t really count.  You were the first non-Winchester to sleep in the Batcave.  On that old army cot, remember?  Tried to get you to take my bed… stubborn.  You were so stiff the next day you could barely walk, but you stuck it out.  You should have taken me up on it, I was on the couch most nights anyway.  Nightmares.”

     “I’ll never forget the morning I woke up and found you there with me.  All warm and cuddled up against me.  I moved and you shushed me in your sleep, mumbled that everything was okay.  God, I don’t think I’d ever slept that good.  We went to that diner in town for breakfast and I asked you to move in.  Sammy nearly choked on his egg whites,” Dean laughed softly at the memory.  “The bunker was a home then.”

     “If you were awake, you’d probably laugh and tell me what I sap I am.  And you’d be right, but I can’t help it.  It’s you, Y/N.  You have this magic… I don’t know what else to call it.  You don’t even have to say anything, and my heart starts to race.  I think about you, more than I should.  In ways that I shouldn’t, and I can’t stop.  I don’t want to stop.”

     “I love you, Y/N.  In case you don’t know; in case you can hear me in your dreams right now… I love you.  I’ve always loved you and if you stay, if you come back to me… I’m going to show you every day just how much.”

     Now:      He tried to speak, but you moved your fingers to his lips to stop him.  Tears shimmered in your eyes, but you managed a wavering smile. 

     “I love you too.”

     You watched the conflicting emotions flicker across his handsome face.  Joy and torment.  Ecstasy and pain.  He traced the underside of your jaw with his fingers, making your shiver inside and your eyes closed on a sigh.  When his lips connected with yours, it was electric!  The world shifted.  Colors, tastes, sensations, all redefined from that moment.  Soft and warm and connected on a level that could only come from love. 

     It was everything you’d ever dreamt his kiss could be, and it ended far too quickly.

     He rested his forehead against yours, puffs of white, heated breath mingling between you.  After a few minutes, he brushed the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, “Don’t cry, Sweetheart.  It breaks my heart when you cry.”

     “Don’t send me away.  Please don’t send me away.”

     “Baby, that bunker is no place for you.  There are no windows, the ventilation is crap, there’s a mildew problem.  I talked to those doctors about the type of environment an asthmatic should live in… Bomb shelter from the fifties didn’t make the cut.”

     “I’ve been living there for five years without an issue,” you pointed out.

     “Yeah, with a humidifier and inhalers.  But it’s different now, that round of pneumonia damaged your lungs.  You need to be someplace where its easier to breathe, not harder.”

     “You’re right.  Which is why Sam and I have been designing a new HVAC system.”

     That stopped him, “Really?  Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

     “Because you went all emo and hid in your room for a month.”

     “I’m not emo!  What kind of HVAC system?”

     “A kick ass one,” you grinned so that your tongue peeked out between your teeth.  “Any other concerns?”

     “What about hunting?” he challenged.

     “I don’t know,” you answered honestly and there was a pang of longing that went with it.  “I have no idea if I’ll ever get back to the physical condition I was before all of this.  No matter how hard I work for it or wish for it and the truth is… going into the field with that kind of a handicap is not in the cards.”

     Dean nodded grimly and dropped his gaze to his lap.  Admitting the possibility of an early retirement was killing you, and he knew it.  You loved hunting, it was as much a part of you as it was for him.  The uncertainty of not knowing if you could do it again, must be terrifying for you.

     “I’m sorry.”

     “I’m not.”  His head shot up and you shrugged, “Most hunters don’t get sidelined, they get killed.  My life might not look they way I thought it was going to, but I’m still here.  Living it.  I’m going to take that win and run with it.”

     “You’re amazing, you know that?  You’re so damn strong… your life got turned upside down and you just roll with it.”  Those impossibly green eyes looked at you with such awe, like he couldn’t quiet believe that you actually existed. 

     “You deserve the best, and that’s not me.”

     “That’s not for you to say.”

     “Doesn’t matter, it’s my choice.”

     “That’s where you’re wrong,” you lifted your chin in proud defiance, “Team Freewill, right?  I will always have a choice, no matter what hand you try to deal me.  I love you, Dean Winchester!  And I am never going to stop.  And I am never going to disappear from your life.  Even if you tell me to hit the bricks, I’ll still call and text and email and whatever just to make sure you’re still alive and well.  Even if this ends, I will still love you!  You ridiculous man!”

     There was a change in his gaze, subtle but there all the same.  He shook his head with a chuckle.  He knew when he was beat, and he was grateful for it.

     “Your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink when you get all worked up, you know that?”

     “My cheeks are pink because it’s freezing out here!”

     Dean ripped his coat off and wrapped it over yours, “Damn it, Y/N!  I knew you were cold!”

     “Well, if you were any kind of a boyfriend, you’d take my back to the car and warm me up properly!”

     He was pulling the hood up over your head when he paused, “Boyfriend, huh?”

     “Yeah, the kind that warms his girl up in the backseat,” you grinned and playfully rubbed your nose against his.

     He growled in your ear and stood, sweeping you up in his arms and making you yelp in delight. 

     “Dean!  I can still walk, you know!”

     “Save your energy, Sweetheart, you’re gonna need it.  Tonight, we’re gonna fog up all the windows!”

#dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fic #Breathe Free

[bidonica]

Per your answer about status and beauty “would have found a match sooner or later, and by fitting in the conventional role of wife and mother and all the other things expected by a highborn lady, her looks would have become less relevant because her status would have consolidated. But Brienne doesn’t play that game, and the people she meets feel entitled to mock her for her looks to her face.” if brienne looked like Cersei, and was still as skilled, how’d she be treated then?

A Brienne who grew up as beautiful as Cersei would be, bluntly speaking, a different character, and probably exactly the kind of "hot warrior chick" trope Martin pointedly tried to avoid when writing her. For all we know, a girl called Brienne of Tarth who grew up stunningly beautiful might never even have picked up a sword. Would a beautiful yet martially skilled Brienne make a radical choice like dropping everything and leave home by herself to follow the one man who showed her a semblance of kindness and attention? It's kind of like wondering what Sam's life would be if he weren't fat, or Tyrion's if he weren't a dwarf. One of the things I think GRRM is particularly successful at, is writing characters whose personality is defined both by "innate" traits and by education, social standing, physical advantages or limitations, privilege or lack thereof. These elements are all intertwined, and pulling one out makes the whole jenga tower of characterization fall.

Would people consider her differently if she were conventionally beautiful? Maybe. We don't know because the closest approximations we have are Lyanna (dead before getting to navigate societal expectations as a full adult), Arya (still a kid) and Asha (I'm not counting Ygritte because her culture expects her to be able to beat a mf up). Asha is interesting because she's the closest to the aforementioned hot warrior chick played straight, but I'd argue Martin averted that by making her more charismatic than conventionally beautiful, a good leader and a smart diplomat more than a super skilled warrior, and by giving her a healthy dose of self esteem, which doesn't come out of nowhere because she got parental support and recognition, and her dad isn't just any dad, he's the fucking boss where they live. She has quite a lot of social capital to back her up; would a random Iron Islander woman succeed in gaining the same respect Asha has? I somehow doubt it. There's also the Sand Snakes, who have a similar sort of privilege from being Oberyn's children, and also live in a culture that's more open to gender equality. So it's hard to know how society would realistically react to a gnc yet traditionally beautiful woman who goes into the world pretty much by herself, with only the social capital of being the female heir to a politically irrelevant island to back her up. Maybe a beautiful Brienne would be more self assured and charm people with charisma on top of beauty. Maybe she would still be shy and unsure of herself and suffer the attention either positive or negative she would attract.

There are a LOT of variables that come into play beyond the perceived beauty of this AU Brienne. And that's not even touching on the biggest "what if": would it even have been possible for her to achieve her current level of skill with a conventionally attractive female body - smaller, lighter, not as muscular? Brienne isn't just extremely well trained and with good instincts for combat, she literally has brute force that is linked to her size and build. There's a reason combat sports have weight categories. Once again: you take one element out and it snowballs into a whole set of different results in other areas.

#brienne of tarth #asoiaf meta #beauty in westeros #replies #anon

[sparring-spirals]

This might sound like it’s straying into RPF territory, but thoughts on each of the players’ (including Matt’s dm style) playing style (ie: how they play their characters.)

Hmmm. Tbh, I don't think I'm knowledgable enough about actual game mechanics/playstyles to provide super meaningful analysis on that front, but I do like characters and how they're created and played and grown. So. I'll cheat a little and talk a little about that?

(To avoid straying into weird territory I'll be trying to keep this as speculation-free as possible and focus on some particular character elements I've noticed and appreciate, but it'll include cast appreciation too.)

this got SO FUCKING LONG because I was having a good time. sorry. enjoy?

Ive spoken about this before, but Marisha's characters often have arcs that are deeply self contained and circle around personal growth and triumph and healing in ways I really enjoy. Her characters do tend to be very powerful, which- nice- but more often than not the biggest factor for growth- and her characters always have phenomenal growth arcs- is about overcoming internal stumbling blocks and demons, improving as a person and settling into it. Which. Spells exciting things for Laudna. 👀 I also love how much she physically embodies each of her characters. Delightful to see. Post-nap Beau, mildly delirious Beau, Laudna drunk-and-woozy-from-blood-loss, Laudna hiding behind her hair.... fantastic.

Liam's characters are so fucking full of love, and passion, in ways that wrap around and shape them, both good and bad. And like yes, fantastic and distinct explorations of grief, yes, thoughtful and nuanced portrayals of loss and trauma and upheaval. But- honestly, looking at Caleb, looking at Vax, looking at Orym. They're all just Lads With Feels, yknow? Good lads who love people so damn much, and feel things so strongly and fully, for better or for worse. He also embodies his characters so fully that you feel that fullness to your core. Method acting.

Taliesin's characters are firstly, aesthetic as hell. He also does something really neat with characters and pride and inflexible or presumptous worldviews. And alongside that, each of his characters can beautifully demonstrate points about people who speak well and charismatically and reassuringly and how that really correlates so little about how much they should be trusted. (Cad, this includes you.) There's pages and pages of analysis that can be done about each of his characters and themes about authority, and pride, and self assurance, and judgements and assumptions that feels very intentional, but his characters also feel very human with it all. There are layers there. And the characters manage to not feel overburdened with it! Masterful. And Taliesin is consistent as hell with it, even if he's not always In character like Liam might be.

Sam. Fucking Sam Riegel. Bard at heart. His characters always, always, have layers, without fail, and Sam is enough of a jokester that you can't take everything done in character as hard evidence of analysis- but you can definitely take more of it than you think. And if there's a specific detail that is slightly funny but seems almost too specific, you can rest assured it will probably rip your heart out later. (Veth hates water! haha! -ah shit-) There's a nice level of thoughtfulness there with just enough actual jokes thrown in to keep you off balance, which makes some of the analysis hell but damn if they aren't good characters.

Ashley is- first of all, extremely funny, okay, there's an element of Chaos™ that I think was present in both Yasha and Pike to an extent that is truly blossoming in Fearne, it is delightful. Her characters tend to be funny in the way of deeply absurd, unexpected statements said in completely genuine tones. And it's hilarious. It also lends itself very well to the other aspect of her characters I enjoy, which has to do with them feeling deeply genuine. It is not precisely about honesty- especially with Fearne- it is about characters who say things with a sort of earnestness, who present themselves with a levek of honesty they can't quite help, even when they're lying. Its good for a comedic streak- ("Your cat is? Vibrating?" "I lied :)") and then just as easily be completely heartwrenching. (Yasha, wrecked and angry and guilty. Fearne, quietly telling Dorian, "I'll never forget you."). She plays both sides of it so well.

I'll admit I'm less familiar with Grog, but Fjord was, admittedly, one of my favorite characters from C2 and has one of my favorite charscter arcs and growth of all time. Travis is so fucking good at blending humor and heart in his characters. Like, comedic timing and sense off the charts, instinctive slapstick, which I think can distract from how consistently thoughtful his characters can be? I dunno. But also, I'm aware some people thought Fjord was boring at the start of C2 and then I think about how fucking hilarious he was through the latter half of it- falling on his face, making a fool of himself, using healing spells for 1-2 hitpoints. And go absolutely feral thinking about how that was a reflection of his growth as a character, about how his confidence in himself and being comfortable being him and not an imitation of someone else meant he felt more confident in making a fool about himself, and how he balanced that humor so well with Fjord growing into leadership and comfort with his role as a voice of reason and- oops this became Fjord meta.

Travis has really good comedic timing but also can spin that on a dime for the most heartfelt, gentle, thoughtful conversations and it is unfair how good he is at it. We're even seeing it with Chetney already. Incredible.

and. Look. I'm sure anyone following me is unsurprised to know that I have. An extreme love for Laura Bailey characters and how they're constructed. And part of this is definitely verging on like, personal preference- I have a specific weakness for characters who are trying so fucking hard to keep it together and be Good and Kind and charming, and who might be doing it VERY convincingly but are also, in one form or another, white knuckling it and On The Edge. Characters that Smile With Teeth (but are also genuinely Trying Their Best). I DUNNO.

But I think it's a testament to Laura truly thinking things through with her characters and how they would feel and react and also fuck things up, and then 100% committing to them. Strong traits as both strengths and flaws. Vex's charm distilled to an arrow point. Jester's happiness being intentional and powerful and terrifying. Imogen being anxious and empathetic and also ruthless under pressure. Her characters are always impressive and flawed in ways that make so much sense, that line up with each other and fall into place and she commits to them fully. They'll say something or do something bad and you'll be like: OOF but also OF COURSE and like. LIKE. isn't that great.

And as a bonus, we don't get to see Matt as a player often and I think NPC building has a level of worldbuilding integrated that can't be ignired. But whenever I see him as a PC he is often-

1- having such a good time, love that for him.

2- Clearly someone so well associated with the rules and uses all of that knowledge and mastery for tomfoolery or specific purposes.

3- making such Lads™. Good bois.

im mostly thinking about Dariax, actually. Dariax was so good, and so complex while also having no more than 3 thoughts at a time. i miss u dariax. ilu.

Matt's characters are a delight, is what I'm saying.

.....

okay this got unreasonably long i think it can probably be boiled down to I Love Complex Characters Who Act Consistently With Some Level Of Characterization and everyone in the cast works so hard to ensure their characters feel fully realized and act consistently and in ways that make sense. And I love characters who act consistently. my bread and butter. and they're all good at different aspects of it but. 👌

#wow this got WAY off topic. but listen the character building and growth in cr is like. Phenomenal. there are flaws and etc etc but. cmon. #im just a real sucker for when characters are flawed and 3d and Do Shit because Given Who They Are. Ofc they would. #critical role #spar speaks #ask away! #meta #? #cr cast #should i tag the full cast? feels a bit strange. i hooe this answer didnt come off too weird. #this is also like. unreasonably long. i expect a max of like 2 people to get all the way down here. congrats! also sorry. #the cr cast enjoy making characters and sharing stories. i think that's pretty clear. i think they're all pretty good at it. :) #also this post is Absolutely Not COmprehensive and was not intended to be. i slammed this out in one sitting and #now i need to run to pick someone up from the airport. feel free to add on with things you appreciate! but i definitely missed stuff bc this #was just like. personal singular snapshot of stuff off the top of my head h a

[firawren]

Muppets Pride and Prejudice

You've seen the tweet about Muppets P&P with Adam Driver. He is a horrible idea for Darcy (way too old, unattractive, and American), but Muppets P&P is the best idea. I have put a lot of thought into casting it. I'll start with my most unexpected (but excellent, IMO) choices.

Sweetums as Jane

It is much more funny for everyone to constantly talk about how lovely Jane is if she is not played by a cute, feminine, little Muppet. But she shouldn't be played by an evil Muppet either. This makes Sweetums perfect. Imagine Darcy telling Bingley "You have been dancing with the only beautiful woman here" and we cut over to giant, hairy Sweetums in a Regency gown. So good.

Animal as Mr. Collins

Mr. C is the most slavishly devoted P&P character (to Lady C); Animal is the most slavishly devoted Muppet (to drums). Plus, imagine Animal in vicar's garb full-on running at Darcy from across the room screaming "MR. COLLINS!" to introduce himself.

Gonzo as Lydia

He's kind of the group weirdo with no filter, so he can embarrass his family by shooting himself out of a cannon in the middle of the Netherfield ball, and similar wacky stunts.

Statler and Waldorf as the Bingley sisters

They're the best at talking shit about everyone else.

Sam Eagle as Lady Catherine

Severe, imposing, cranky, judgy. Tries to control everyone but fails.

Fozzie as Bingley

Cute, fun, silly, cheerful.

Rizzo or Pepe as Wickham

Either one would be good in the role. Rizzo would be good at being slick and insincere. Pepe would be good at being a ladies’ man.

Kermit and Piggy as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet

One is weak, one is melodramatic; plus Kermit doesn't seem to even like Piggy but is with her anyway.

Bunsen as Charlotte

Smart, self-assured, pretty calm even when things seem pretty shitty.

Beaker as Kitty

Perpetually stressed out, and no one really listens to her.

Rowlf as Mary

Plays the piano and is mostly pretty boring.

Scooter as Mr. Gardiner and ?? as Mrs. Gardiner

Scooter is hard-working, sensible, calm. No idea who should play Mrs. Gardiner, so just make a new Muppet for her, or use Skeeter, though she’s nothing like Mrs. G.

Camilla as Georgiana

Just simple, pretty, nice. Doesn't talk much.

And finally, young humans for Darcy and Elizabeth

No Muppets for the main couple. I don't know young English actors well enough to give you names, but the point is that they should be in their 20s and hot, especially Darcy.

#pride and prejudice #muppets #jane austen #jane austen characters

[disneymbti]

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson maybe? marvel is disney haha

Hi there, sweetie! I really hope you like this a lot!

Bucky Barnes' MBTI Type, Big Three and Enneagram Type

MBTI Type: ISTP [The Virtuoso]

Virtuosos are generally more reserved and prefer being alone. They are self-sufficient and independent thinkers.

They are very observant and focus on the details of a situation, trusting facts and making decisions based on the here-and-now.

ISTP types favor logic and reason over emotional influences. They base their decisions on what makes sense.

They are also spontaneous and prefer keeping their options open. Virtuosos are often more adaptable and less aware of time.

Big Three: Pisces Sun, Aries Moon and Scorpio Rising

Pisces Sun: The planetary ruler for Pisces is Jupiter and Neptune, which gives Pisces Suns a sentimental, intuitive, imaginative, and dreamy nature. 

Aries Moon: Lunar Aries are known to be emotionally responsive and impulsive at times, as they lead with fiery passions over than logic or reason.

Scorpio Rising: Prone to turning heads, Scorpio ascendents ooze with magnetism and dynamism. They're not known to back away from a challenge. 

Enneagram Type: 9w8 [The Advisor]

Basic Fear: Nine wing eights are afraid of being separated from the world. They avoid this by preventing conflict; however, their eight wing also encourages them to be assertive, which can create an internal tension.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to be internally balanced. They seek to be at peace with themselves and others.

Advisors defend themselves by numbing their negative emotions through routine and repetitive patterns. They avoid facing their own internal struggles by distracting themselves in this way.

Sam Wilson's MBTI Type, Big Three and Enneagram Type

MBTI Type: ESFP [The Entertainer]

ESFPs are very outgoing and lively people. They thrive in groups and prefer not to spend too much time alone.

They are very observant, focusing closely on the details rather than the grand scheme. They think in terms of the present.

Entertainers tend to prioritize emotion when making decisions, concerning themselves more with how their decisions will affect others. They are empathetic and diplomatic.

They rely more on opportunity than rigid scheduling. They are spontaneous and playful people, with a passion for finding new adventures.

Big Three: Leo Sun, Gemini Moon and Sagittarius Rising

Leo Sun: The Sun rules the sign Leo, which is why Leo Suns all about ego, will, and character. They’re known to be creative, playful, and bold.

Gemini Moon: Ruled by winged messenger, Mercury, Gemini Moons enjoy discussing their complex feelings with others in order to gain a mindful and clear emotional perspective.

Sagittarius Rising: Sagittarius risings are jovial, optimistic, and full of energy. They sparkle with confidence, and you can't help but sparkle back when you're around them.

Enneagram Type: 6w7 [The Confidant]

Basic Fear: Six wing sevens’ fear losing their support system. This may be expressed through self-deprecating humor, in which they seek affirmation and assurance from other people.

Basic Desire: Their basic desire is to feel safe and supported. They show this by being loving and supportive to others. They honor their commitments and are very loyal to their friends.

Like other sixes, Confidants defend themselves by projecting their feelings, which may lead them to misunderstanding themselves and their relationships.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #disney #disneymbti #mbti types #istp #esfp #astrology #zodiac signs #pisces sun #aries moon #scorpio rising #leo sun #gemini moon #sagittarius rising #enneagram types #9w8 #the advisor #6w7 #the confidant #sebastian stan #anthony mackie

[gretavansteph]

Sunshine 8 | Josh Kiszka

lol it's been a while

———————

“Oh my god I’m going to puke.”

You were anxious, you were so damn anxious it was actually kind of ridiculous seeing as this was your best friend from your entire life, things were going to be fine. It was finally date night with Josh and you could not have been less than ready. You took a seat on your bed and fanned yourself with your hands.

The other boys had come over to help you and prep you for your first official date night with Josh, minus Jake who was with him. They watched you with disgusted and scared looks, mentally praying you wouldn’t actually puke.

“Just breathe, Y/N, like this.” Danny did some breathing exercises with you, and you tried to follow along as much as your nerves permitted you.

What if something goes wrong? What if he decides at the end of the night that this isn’t what he wants and he decides that you suck as a girlfriend and that you’re only ever good enough to be a best friend. Fuck, you couldn’t bear the thought. But you were so excited at the same time, you were going on your first date with the love of your life for fucks sake! Get it together, you mentally screamed at your self.

You had taken a few hours to get ready, wanting to make sure your outfit was perfect. You didn’t have much to go off of as far as dress code, the whole night was kept a secret and all Josh had said was for you to dress comfy, and to pack a light sweater. Thus you ended up in the most flattering pair of black stretchy pants you owned, they flared slightly at the bottom and they hugged you in all the right places, and you had paired them with a cropped sweater that had a few tears in it that gave it character, or so you claimed.

Sammy, however, told you you looked like you had gotten into a fight with a street cat and that the cat had won. This made you all the more anxious, and you ran around trying to find something else to wear as Danny scolded Sammy for teasing you when you were already in a frenzy. He had coaxed you down from an almost mental breakdown, and he assured you you looked wonderful and that Josh would love the pants. You ignored the last comment, not having enough room in your already overflowing brain to dwell on anything else.

You continued to take deep breaths with Danny as Sammy dug around your room snooping in your things, specifically your jewelry.

“What are you doing?” you asked, much more calm than before.

He hummed as he continued digging around. “You need a little something else,” he said, not looking up from his task.

You forced your mind to pay attention to what he was doing, you didn’t want to psych yourself out anymore than you already had. Danny had reassured you everything would be fine, and though Sam rarely took things seriously he had assured you the same, telling you that the night would either end up in a simple make out or that he would completely ravish you. The second comment made you blush like crazy, and you were afraid you might’ve sweat your makeup off by how hot the thought made you. You wouldn’t mind if he had his way with you at the end of whatever he had planned for the night, if anything it would ease your nerves. Maybe that’s what you needed, you just needed to get laid.

You shook the thoughts out of your head, you couldn’t think things like that while you had company, so you focused your attention back on Sam as he pulled something out of your jewelry box with an excited ‘aha!’.

“What’d you find?” you asked, watching as he made his way over to you.

He motioned for you to stand up and turn around, and you waited patiently as he clasped a necklace around your neck, then turning you back around to place a pair of earrings in the palm of your hand.

He had given you a matching set of gold jewelry that had your birth stone in the middle. Your heart fluttered at the sight of them, and you quickly slipped them on.

Josh had gifted you this set for your 16th birthday, and you wore it every single day for years on end and then one day you thought you had accidentally lost one of the earrings. You cried the entire day as you searched the house up and down, flipping the couch and the bed multiple times only for it to be on the shelf of your shower, where you had last taken it off. Ever since then a fear of losing a piece of the matching set made its home in your brain and that was the only reason you took them off and tucked them way in the back of your jewelry box for safe keeping. It only seemed fit to pull them out tonight.

You thanked Sammy, and he and Danny complimented your finished look, reminding you of how much Josh would love it. You spent the next hour hanging out in the kitchen, killing time until Josh arrived. They were doing a great job at keeping your mind occupied, Sammy even made you one of his famous margaritas to take a bit of the edge off which you happily accepted. You sipped your drinks as you laughed along to some dumb joke Sammy had told, grateful for the alcohol and the wonderful company that had you feeling a little more relaxed.

That all flew out the window when a knock sounded at the door, and the three of you shared the same wide eyed look.

“Wait, why do I feel nervous it’s not even my date.” Danny said, and Sam agreed as they both shook the surprised look from their faces.

You took one last big sip from your drink before heading to the front door, opening it to reveal your handsome boyfriend.

Oh my god he was your boyfriend.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought as your heart all but jumped out of your chest at the sight in front of you.

"Hi, mama."

Your insides turned to mush as soon as those words left his mouth.

Josh stood at your door sporting a big and bright smile that went exceptionally well with his outfit for the night. You took your time looking at him from the bottom to the top, unashamed and in a daze as you took him in. He was wearing striped cotton pants, rolled up a bit at his ankles, his signature white long sleeve shirt and he finished the look off with some white Vans. God, he looked good enough to eat.

You trailed your eyes back up to meet his own, sharing a loving smile. "Hi," you replied.

"Are you guys just going to stand there or what? Cause so far this is a lame ass date."

You and Josh shared a look as you both turned to glare at Sam, who simply grinned happily at the two of you and ushered you out the door. He all but shoved your purse in your face before shutting the door, locking himself and Danny inside your house.

"Well shit I mean, it's not my house or anything." you said to the door, hearing Sammy and Danny giggling on the other side.

You felt a warm hand take ahold of your own, gently tugging you along. You turned your head to look at Josh, and your nerves came up again as the realization that you two were alone finally hit you. He led you over to his Jeep, only stepping away from you for a second to open up your door and help you climb in. You giggled as he helped you put on your seatbelt, knowing you were more than capable of doing it yourself but you relished in his sweet actions. He leaned over you to clip the belt in place, and you found yourself leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He laughed slightly, returning the gesture before pulling back.

"Ready?" he grinned.

"Always."

The drive to the mystery location was spent laughing as you shared with Josh how Sam and Danny helped you get ready for the night and how they helped you ease your nerves. He shared how he was feeling the same, almost calling out but Jake forced him in the car as he yelled at him to be a man. You laughed at the mental image of the two of them yelling at each other, but you felt better knowing you weren't the only one that had been freaking out.

The drive continued for a few more minutes before Josh was turning off onto a dirt road. You watched the trees go by until eventually they disappeared completely. The car to a stop not long after, as Josh parked off to the side of the road. He hopped out of the car and all but ran around to your side to open your door.

You smiled and thanked him as he held your hand, helping you out of the car. You followed him along in the light of the moonlight, holding all of your question to really build up the surprise. And what a surprise it was.

A gasp found it's way past your lips and into the nighttime air as you took in the scene before you. Josh had walked you over to the top of a hill, though only a few feet away from the car the view gave the impression that you were far and high enough to touch the stars above you. He had set up a picnic, complete with a checkered blanket that lay underneath a big brown basket. The blanket was surrounded by faux candle lights, but the dim yellow lights flickered as if to mimic the real waver of a flame in the wind. The small lights expanded over the hill, covering the surrounding areas of where the blanket lay. Over the hill you had a perfect view of the city, all sorts of colored lights lit up the buildings in the distance. It was perfect.

"What do you think?"

You turned at the sound of Josh's voice, taking notice of the nervous look on his face. You gave him a smile and tugged him towards you by his hand, and you held him there as your other hand came up grip the front of his shirt softly.

"It's beautiful, Josh." you whispered. "It's so so beautiful, I love it so much, thank you."

The grin that broke out on his face was one of a child's on Christmas morning. It made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, seeing him this happy. He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it that left the skin burning at his touch.

"Come on," he said. "Let's eat."

And that you did.

He had packed so much food for just the two of you, and you had tried to eat as much as you could but neither of you could fit another bite. There was a full course meal, followed by some chocolate covered strawberries that paired very well with the wine he pulled out at one point. There was other little snacks in between and after and you were sure you were about to burst. After cleaning everything up and moving it off the blanket you both laid back and looked up at stars, dazed and drunk off of each others company and in a prominent food coma.

"I don't know if I can get back up." you spoke, turning to look at Josh to find him already staring at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

"Me too," he agreed. "I might need a tow truck."

You giggled at his joke, causing him to giggle along with you and then it turned into the both you giggling like kids. There wasn't anything really funny about the situation, and his grandpa jokes were not that good, but a mixture of the wine with the feeling of being so full with not only food but love and the aura of where you were and more importantly who you were with was all tying together and it had you both feeling giddy.

Your giggles were cut off by the feeling of Josh's fingertips touching your hand, pulling it open for him to place his hand in your yours. You felt your body heat up at the small touch, your heart beating at a fast rate as you turned your head to the side to look him. He was looking up at the stars, a smile on his lips and a small hint of a blush that you could barely make out in the dim light.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Josh spoke, breaking the comfortable silence you had fallen in to. "And the stars....breathtaking."

You didn't have to look up at the stars to know they were beautiful, your own personal bundle of stars was right next to you. He was just as beautiful as the moon if not more, and the stars could not come close to his sparkle and light. The sun could never compete with the warmth and happiness he carried every day. He was all of those things wrapped up into one, and he was all yours.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him, his beauty and his grace and just, everything that was him. You had loved him in secret for so long and now you were given the chance to show him in any way you wanted to. You didn't have to hide a single thing anymore.

"Yeah, you are."

His blush became more prominent at your hushed words and he finally turned to look at you, scooting himself closer and propping himself up on one more to look down at you.

"You're stealing my lines, woman." he pouted.

You shrugged, biting back a smile. "I've been holding back lots of things, and now I can scream them out on top of this very hill if I please." you confessed. "So, get used to it."

He scrunched up his nose and you playfully tapped it, but before you could go back and do it again he caught your hand and placed it over his chest.

"What else have you been holding back, hmm?"

And there were your nerves again.

He was looking at you with a smile, but there was a certain glint in his eye that made your heart pound in your chest and somewhere else. You crossed your legs and pressed your thighs together, and he definitely took notice of that but thankfully made no comment. You tried turning your head to look up at the stars that were suddenly more interesting, but he held you in place with his hand on the side of your face, and you were sure he could feel the heat on your cheeks.

"I asked you a question, mama." he spoke lowly, sending shivers down your spine that didn't go unnoticed by him. "Cold?" he teased. "I can think of a few ways to keep you warm, if you'd like."

Damn him and his teasing.

Your words were stuck in your throat, you wanted to tell him yes that you wanted him to warm you up in any way he saw fit but you couldn't speak. The heat he radiating off of him and onto your body and the warmth from the wine and the burn his words sent to your core had you speechless.

"What did I say about using your words, love?"

Fuck.

He removed his hand from your face, replacing it with his finger as he trailed it down your cheek and onto your jaw. He lightly trailed down onto your neck, pressing against your quickening pulse before making his way down your chest. Once he hit the neck of your sweater, he switched back to his hand, trailing it down your chest onto your stomach, and down your legs were he gave a small squeeze to your thigh before coming back up and settling on your waist underneath your sweater.

You shivered again, more so as he traced the goosebumps on your skin.

"You know," he spoke, slowly inching his fingers up your skin. "I didn't take you to be a bad girl, Y/N."

Oh my fucking God.

You let out a shaky breath, looking up at him as his fingers grew closer and closer to the bottom of your breasts.

"Maybe," he continued. He leaned down to where you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your lips. You poked your tongue out to lick your lips, and his eyes left yours for a second as you did so before they came back up. He ghosted his lips over yours, the skin touching but not long enough to de considered a kiss. "Maybe, you need to be taught a lesson."

The small whine that left your throat at his words was definitely appreciated by him, as it gave him the final push to finally press his lips against yours in a hot and hungry kiss. His hand left it's place from under your sweater, leaving the skin cold but not for long as it quickly found a new home on your thigh, pulling your leg over his waist and holding you there. His grip was tight, and you grew more hot at the thought of the potential marks he would leave in his wake.

You kissed each other like your life depended on it, and in the moment it really felt like it did. Your hands finally moved onto his shirt, fisting it tightly to pull him closer as the other tugged and played with his hair.

Things were moving fairly quickly, and though you loved every second and you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right then and there, you didn't want to rush anything.

You made out for a while longer, groping each other here and there but it never turned into anything else. It's almost like he had read your mind, assuring you it was okay and that you would take it slow as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were seemingly out of breath, and you held each other as your minds and bodies came down from excitement. You watched the stars a little while longer, talking amongst yourselves and stealing kisses here and there. Once it got significantly later, you packed up your picnic and the lights and made your way back to the car, starting the ride back home.

Josh held your hand the entire way, never once letting go even as he shared a story and flung his hands all around. He would pause and place a kiss to the back of it every now and then, and it made your heart swell/ You both had the happiest smiles on your faces, eyes seeming to glow in the late night darkness. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much but the smiles never went away even after you returned home, they only grew as you invited Josh to spend the night with you and he agreed, not wanting the night to end.

You took turns showering and getting ready for bed, the two of you once again a giggly mess as you crawled into your bed, immediately gravitating towards each other like magnets, not being able to go without touching each other for long. You sighed as Josh pulled you into his chest, your legs a tangled mess.

You listened to his heart beat, slowly letting it lull you to sleep. Not before hearing what Josh had to say.

"I had a wonderful time with you, Y/N."

You hummed in agreement, mumbling what you thought was the same but given by his laugh it was probably just a mess of mumbles. You hadn't realized how tired you were but now wrapped up in his warmth you were slipping under more and more.

"Go to sleep, lovie." he whispered, and you felt him tug the blankets tighter around you.

"Sweet dreams."

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y'all ngl I don't wanna write this anymore lol it started out great and now that we're nearing towards the end I'm like wtf to write now? idk y'all ya girl is struggling over here but I'm committed to finishing it for y'all so hopefully you guys enjoy

#josh gvf #jake gvf #danny wagner #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #gvf fanfiction #daniel gvf #gvf ships #gvf #gvf blurb #sam gvf #danny gvf #josh kiszka fanfiction #joshkiszkaxreader #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet #jakegvf #joshkiszka #jakekiszka

[shallowseeker]

srry for the giant wall of rambles I got too thinky bc I was chopping apples and having a suspiciously nice day

do you think cas actually likes bees or if its a fandom trait based on Crazy!Cas who liked bees because of the hivemind resembling heaven?

also i imagine heaven and angels like parasitic creatures while hell is leeches/fungi/deep sea type scavengers

You're apologizing to ME about giant walls? Now, that is a little funny.

BEES & THE QUEST FOR MEANING I've gone back and forth on the bees, but mostly I think it's harmless, and I've made peace with the fact that I'm just not that into it.

Over time I've landed on putting the bees in a more biblical/theological space and leaving them there. I don't even think Cas liked them so much as he was desperately checking out of life and struggling to find meaning in a universe that felt monotonous and horrific -> the wars and sex and the unhappy dogs that can only think in ovals.

Because of his shame and depression, Cas could find no meaning or joy in the rat-race of life. He wants to be a non-participant because, “I destroyed everything and I will destroy everything again.”

Here, I view Cas as Ecclesiastes. He was despairing over meaninglessness and the useless "striving of wind." I do think it was a motif that was 100% on purpose, too, because war, work, and career dealings are accompanied by fans, windmills, and industrial stirrings a lot in SPN!

It's very cool. It even appears in The Winchesters companion series, when Mary is facing her childhood!

//

Other Cas Things Interest Me More

Anyway, Cas and bees. Cas doesn't ever really return to them again after he moves past his struggle with his season 7 nihilism/meaninglessness. He seems more enamored with trash TV than bees. "I missed television," is the very first thing he says after getting out of Purgatory, lol.

He doesn't seem like much of an environmentalist either and seems perfectly willing to hand-slaughter pigs and eat shitty food. (To me, Lucifer seems like more of the environmentalist or even AU Zachariah from season 13's Good Intentions.) Or even Cain!

I think in later seasons, Cas seems vaguely aware of and attempting to be appreciative of the fleetingness of the time he has with his human family.

We see this theme in Naomi's words sometime in season 14 (I think?):

NAOMI: "Everything ends, Castiel."

We see it again in Cas’s words to Jack in season 14’s Ouroboros:

CAS: "The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them, you. When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them."

He also, unlike characters like Sam, seems to not get too hung up on agonizing over moral relativism -> judging from his words to Claire in season 10's The Things We Left Behind:

CAS: "Yes, well, um… Before, I was very self-assured. I was convinced I was on this righteous path. Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst."

And then, there's also his words to Apocalypse-World Cas, "We're the same," & "Yes, we are."

My point is, Cas seems to have made peace with and understands that morality is relative to where your allegiances lie, and he seems good with preferring his allyship to humans.

He also seems to be more focused on the here and now rather than preserving the future indefinitely, which in my mind, goes with bees-as-work and bees-as-future.

You could argue that Jack changes that for him in 12x19 The Future, but I’m not sure… It still seems pretty family- and legacy-focused.

///

HEAVEN AS HIVEMIND This is another area where I really break from the fandom.

I don't view Heaven as a hivemind so much as I view it as a police state/military power, or else I don't think it would be structured the way it is. It's got this rigid party propganada, "We're heartless. Only humans feel emotions and true joy." I view it more as a surveillance state.

On the whole, I think Angelicity deals with the motif of epic, professional repression. On a lower level of existence, I'm reminded of the studies where men say they don't feel emotions but test as having them in equal or more intense measure when you measure psychological arousal and adrenal stress. I view Angelicity as a narrative exaggeration of traditional, brutal, stoic masculinity— a higher, Heavenly masculinity carried to its extreme.

It's got insanely brutal, inhumane emotional expectations. Grace, as my lovely father pointed out, looks a lot like traditional view on virility; it’s powerful and heals all sorts of emotional and physical ailments, but it’s finite and prone to performance issues.

//

In the show, practically every angel we see onscreen rebels, and angels are a huge motif for ongoing Civil War -> "brother against brother."

Despite what Lucifer and Cas and Naomi say, most angels are shown to have their own ideas, and on the whole, are shown to be reckless, angry, wrathful, impulsive, incredibly petty, and emotionally volatile.

I think what tends to happen is people hear the party line about heartlessness and obedience, and that clouds them from what the series actually shows us again and again: angels rebelling left and right and being brutally beaten down and lobotomized for it. (The lobotomies don’t even work all the way!)

Angels have constant, ongoing Civil War because they disagree with each other, even when there's only a handful of them left (Ex: Dumah Vs. Naomi in season 14).

Cas is not unique. That's the tragedy of authoritarianism. He only THINKS he is.

Cas's tendency to think of himself as unique and to think of his dealings with other angels as being "like teaching poetry to fish," is why he reaches for tyrannical god power in the first place. He thinks that, because they don't agree with him, they somehow don't have free will. Which is… kind of a flawed premise.

It's very complicated...but I think the reality is that until recently, Cas was right there with them, beaten down and hammered into shape. Hell, roll back a few years, and he'd have slaughtered himself alongside the others.

//

I think back to Anna's insistence that angels can't feel and are heartless, which is itself contradictory because Anna wouldn't have fallen in the first place if she had been emotionless to start with.

I prefer that she fell to be "allowed" to experience the emotions she probably already had…and had brutally repressed over eons of military dissociation and totalitarian training.

//

Being a soldier wears on you:

We see that, the longer Dean is a soldier, the more he too begins to lose sight of what is right or wrong. Season 15 Dean is so distraught and lost that he vaguely resembles season 4 soldier!Cas.

CAS: "I don't know what's right or wrong, or if you passed or failed here."

//

I LIKE YOUR COOL IDEA!

i imagine heaven and angels like parasitic creatures while hell is leeches/fungi/deep sea type scavengers

Deep sea creatures and fungi are wicked cool. See, you have ideas! You should just write them. I'd read that. Deep sea creatures would make excellent demons too, what with the whole "absence of light" and being down deep and all.

There's something horrific about being alive on all levels, isn't there? We all have to consume something to keep going. One of my fave religious essays is called The Horror of Eating, and it posits that Gods are so scary to us because we naturally put them above us, with us as the food/sacrifice to them. Brrr. This is why the sacrifice motif appears so often.

I guess...as humans, we empathize and humanize our food sources, which is a big part of our incredible neuroses...

#thanks for the convo #asks