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starchildren220 · 2 days

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Surprise Guest Appearance

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my ao3

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masterlist

I got this idea from that one ep in season six where meg and cas make out ok but hear me out what if they both found you attractive and they like both wanted to fuck u and boom threesome

smut, threesome, biting, choking, no use of y/n, cursing, m/f/f, virgin cas, dom!meg, switch!reader, switch!cas, meg 😍😍😍

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You, Sam, and Dean came back from giving some of Crowley’s lackeys a Rougarou. You went to get a beer while Dean and Sam fought about working with Crowley. It went back and forth until Sam stopped answering, then Dean called out for him.

“Dean?” You call out. Walking through the room you turn the corner to see Dean and Sam knocked out on the floor with a bald man standing over them. You grab your gun and call out. “Hey asshole.” You point it at him. He turns and smirks, all you feel is a harsh hit to your head and your vision gets blurry and you faint.

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You woke up way after Sam and Dean, the three of y’all were tied up and a woman, a hot one, was talking to Dean. “Kinky, I like. But a little Q&A first, if you don’t mind.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Now, where’s your boss?” Sam scoffed and she turned to him.

“You think we work for somebody.” Sam denied. The woman smirked. “I happen to know for a fact you’ve been juggling Crowley’s orphans.” She turned back to Dean. “Now, where is he?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Sam answered. “But you’ve been working his beat for months.” She sounded mad. “Doesn’t mean we get face time. You looked around in the silence. You’ve been hanging around with Sam and Dean for a while but not long enough to know who this woman is.

She decides to turn to you. “Who’s this pretty thing?” She looks you in the eyes. “Now which one are you banging?” She smirks eyeing you up and down. “Neither. Not really my type.” You smirked back. She walks to you and sits on you lap holding your shoulder. “How ‘bout you princess? Do you know where the big boss is.”

She got close, real close. “I don’t, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you. Now I don’t know who or what you are, but I can tell that it ain’t good.” She smirks and pulls a knife to your throat. “Be careful I might like it.” You winked and she smirked. Turning to the boys she spoke.

“Tell me or I cut this pretty little thing.” Sam laughs. “Something funny Sam?” Dean grits out. “Yeah. Meg.” You glare at him. “Really cause from where I’m sitting-“ Sam interrupted Dean. “Don’t worry she can’t do jack squat. She totally screwed.”

“Sam! Not helping.” You tell him. “Look at her, she’s furious. If she could kill you, she’d have done it by now.” He pauses. “Wow and I thought we had something.” You joke. “She's running.” She turns to Sam. “Am I?”

“Judging from the level of flop sweat in all of you, yeah.” The woman gets off your lap. “Which means you’re running from Crowley, which makes sense. Crowley would wanna hunt down any Lucifer loyalists now that he’s big man on campus.”

“How would you know?” Sam contemplates it. “It’s what I’d do. She can’t kill us.” Sam looks at you, shaking his head. “She needs us to get her to Crowley so she can stick that knife in his neck.” Sam looks to Dean this time. “It’s him or her.”

Dean looks up at the woman. “Well, I hope you both loose. But good luck.” Sam starts to talk again. “So, you know what you gotta do know right?” She response. “Let me guess your gonna tell me.” “Work with us.” Sam offers.

“Woah, what?” Dean asks Sam confused. Sam gives Dean a look that says work with me here, them looks back up at the woman. "We'll hand you Crowley with a bow on one condition. We go with you; you help us wring a little something out of him before you hack him to bits."

"What." She cocks her head. "Doesn't matter. Question is, can you get us what we need?" She smirks again. "I apprenticed under Alastair in hell just like your brother. So, Dean, can I make Crowley do whatever I want?" She turns to him smiling. Dean straightens up and looks her in the eyes. "Yeah, she can."

"It's a deal then. Hugs and Puppies all around." She moves her head to look at all three of you. "You gonna untie us?" Dean asked. "Please, don't act like you don't enjoy it." She bites her lip and walks to the door before stopping. "Oh! We're also taking the girl as a little, let's say, hmmm, deposit. We don't want to be double crossed." One of the men walked around behind you before hitting you on the head knocking you out and untying you.

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You moved your head around, stretching it out. You were bound to a chair again. Pulling at the binds you groan. "Hey Princess." Your head snaps up to the woman from earlier leaning against the doorframe. "Let me go!" you yelled. "Now why would I do that." You though for a sec. "Please?" you smile awkwardly trying the possibilities. She walked to you and grabbed your face. "Now that just adorable princess."

"Can I at least know who you are?" She thought for a second. "Meg, Meg Masters." She answered not letting your face go. You're breathing hard, your face in her hands, your pleading eyes, you looked just delicious. Meg fought the urge and backed away. "Meg." You tested the name on your tongue.

"Yep." She confirms popping the 'p'. You pull the knife from your sleeve and start sawing the rope. "So why am I here?" you ask. "You're a hostage." She shrugged. "Yeah, I get that part, but why me?" The knife has cut through most of the rope. "Cause why would I waste a chance to hang around a hottie like you." You smirk. "I'm flattered really, but" you snap the rope and stood up. "You really thought that would hold me?"

"No, not really. I kinda hoped it didn't, I like the chase." She smirked and started to run to you. You moved out of the way and that kept happening until Meg jumped tripping you and making you fall over. She straddled you pulling the knife she had above her head and brought it down on you. You held her arms back with you own, struggling heavily.

Meg leaned in. "Just give up already." She smirked pushing it harder. "Never." You moved your head and let her arms go and the knife got stuck in the floor. She grunted and her face was right in yours from falling. The two of you look into the others eyes. Your lips crashed onto another aggressively.

Moaning into the others mouth, breathing became hard. You pulled back. "You have a bed? No offense but I'd prefer not to do it on the floor." You were out of breath. "Yeah, I do princess." Meg slid her hand under your back and lifted, your legs instinctively wrapped around her waist. You go back to her mouth making out again.

One of her hands is holding up your thigh and the other is still on your back. You pass a room with Meg's lackeys, and they were dumbfounded but you were too gone to care. Meg opened the door and kicked it closed behind her. Your back makes contact a soft mattress. Meg moves her kisses to your neck and her knee rubs against your wet pussy.

You moan loudly, she rocks her knee into you and left marks down your neck. You grunt and whimper in her ear and the little noises you make nudges Meg on. She pulled up your shirt showing a black lace bra. Meg snaked her hand under your jeans after unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her fingers pressed against your clit making you arch your back and moan.

She used her other hand to pin yours above your head. Meg teases your entrance over your underwear. "Please~" You whine. Moving it over she pushed her index in. Your chest arches to meet hers. She started at a slow rhythm and went back to marking your body. Her speed picks up enough to get to your orgasm before she slows back down.

"I've come to check on you-" Cas appeared in the room spooking y'all. "Hey Cas, I'm a little bu-" You moaned and arched your back and throwing you head back, Meg had curled her fingers and her palm dug into your clit. The sound you made shot a feeling through Castiel. You pulled your head back to look at Cas with hooded eyes.

"Look Cas I'm finNE!" She did it again. "Tell Sam and Dean I'm fine." Cas didn't leave like you thought he would, it was like he was stuck in place. "What are you doing?" He asks. "You can answer this." Meg told you switching to attack the other side of your neck.

"We're about to have sex, and some people have not shame to stop when someone else is here." You spat the last part out at Meg. She curled her fingers aggressively and pulled you closer by the neck, your wrists now free. "Watch your tone princess." She smirked bringing you into a kiss. Your tongues twisted and danced together; she pulled back to get back to your neck.

"Why are you asking?" Castiel thinks about it for a second. "I don't know, it makes me feel a certain way, like when I watched the pizza man." "The porno?" You asked. "Yeah." He confirmed. He kinda stood there for a few seconds before calling to him. "Hey Cas?" He hums. “C’mere.”

He took a second before moving towards the bed. He stopped right in front of it, you nudged Meg, and she moved off of you. You get on your knees and pull Cas in by his tie. Your lips moved in a nice rhythm, for someone who never kissed before he was damn good at it.

You pull him on the bed, his back pressing on the headboard and you were between his legs. You pressed a hand to his crotch, and he bucked his hips moaning into your mouth. Palming his erection made him have such pretty reactions. You felt hands on your hips, pulling them up.

Meg slid your underwear off throwing them somewhere in the room. Her fingers pushed through your folds into your wet core. This time it was you moaning. By accident you increased the pressure on his dick, and he bucked hard, releasing the kiss his head went back in and he grit back a moan.

Meg was behind you pumping her fingers into you while you palm Cas’ dick and unbuttoned his shirt. Kissing down his chest you get to his pants before unbuttoning them you kissed his bulge over his boxers. Pulling the down too his dick sprung out and you lick it from base to tip.

Wrapping your lips around his dick while Meg was behind you thrusting her hand hard. The vibrations from your moans added so much pleasure to Castiel, an unknown feeling spread through his stomach. Cass' jaw hurt from the pressure he was putting on it, he loosened it and couldn't help the little noises coming out.

Your orgasm was also coming fast, you pulse and fluttering around Meg's fingers. Suddenly you felt a squirming wet thing pressed against your clit, Meg's tongue surprised you and you gasped going further on Cass gaging a little. Cas let out a loud yelp before lacing his fingers into your hair.

He didn't pull or guide, he just rested his hand in your hair. As meg continued to fuck you with her tongue you went faster on Cass. Abruptly you felt Cas twitch then release in your mouth, you almost choke but just quickly swallowed. You pleasure was almost unbearable. "Meg! I'm gonna cum." You look at her from under you.

Her tongue worked harder at your clit and her fingers went faster and deeper. The tightness snaps and you cum hard, your vision turns blurry, and your arms can't hold you up anymore causing you to collapse head resting on Cass' thigh. When your breathing and heartbeat slows you noticed Cass' stroking your hair and Meg caressing you while whispering against your skin.

You push off of Castiel's leg, Meg looks up at you when you move. You face her and push her down unbuttoning her jeans then pulling both the jeans and her underwear down her legs and throwing them to the side. Your lips connect with her thigh, kissing, sucking, and biting your way up to her pussy.

You lay your tongue flat on the outside, swiping up you collect her arousal on your tongue. Meg groaned and grinded her hips down on your face. You feel Castiel grab your hips before he put his mouth on your opening. You jolt in surprise before moaning, the vibrations causing Meg to throw her head back and release beautiful little noises.

Cass was copying the same thing you were doing to Meg; your head was light from the pleasure and lack of air. You pull back causing a whine to come from Meg. Turning to look at Cass you spoke, "Cass?" He brought his head up and looked at you. "Fuck me please~" You looked at him with hooded eyes and he couldn't say no to you."

You went back to making out with Megs lower lips and you feel the prod from his tip at your entrance. You brought a hand over and pushed one finger into Meg, her pussy fluttered around your finger. Your tongue circled her clit before you latched your lips to it.

Cass pushed into you fully bottoming out within seconds. Your moans cause Meg to roll her eyes back. "Yeah baby, that's it~ Keep going darling!" Her fingers laced through your hair, she tugged slightly at the root. You clenched around Cass, and he lean forwards bracing himself on your hips. He moved his lips to your ear, and you felt his hot breath as he spoke. "Keep doing that baby and I might not last much longer." He kissed down your neck stopping sometimes to focus on that one area.

Soon he started thrusting, your vision blurred, and you couldn't focus on what you were doing, he was hitting hard and deep with each thrust. Eventually you continued again this time adding another finger and curling it against her soft gummy walls. She grinded down at a fast pace and you matched it with your thrusts.

Without noticing you started to thrust back against Cass, he was hitting deeper inside you causing your eyes to roll back. "I'm gonna cum baby~" Meg gripped harder in your hair. "Yes! Just like that baby." Her encouragement made you want to please her better. She squeezed around your fingers and her thighs clenched around your head. She moaned loudly close to screaming. Your licked her clean as she squirmed overstimulated.

You pull back again, and Meg was asleep in seconds. Cass grabbed at your hair pulled you up, your back flesh against his chest. The free hand caressed up your side and slipped under your bra. He flicked your soft bud. Your nipple hardened against his finger. He pinched it and you bucked moaning loudly. His lips attacked the less marked side of your neck.

His lips did not leave a spot unnoticed, his thrust along with him constantly sucking and kissing along your neck brought you close to your high. His hand slipped back out from under your bra and caressed down the skin of your stomach before his rough fingertips meet your swollen clit. He pushes down on it, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder.

"Cass!" You bite your lip as he rubs figure eights on your clit. "Fuck~ I'm gonna cum." You grind down into his fingers and your walls fluttered around him. He grunted and bit down on your neck. The pain mixing in with the pleasure pushed you over your edge.

Cumming you squeezed him tight, moaning loudly. At that he twitched and cum inside your warm pussy. The only thing you can hear is the two of you panting. You both were in the same position, on your knee's chest to back, too tired to move. When your breathing calmed you brought Cass into a slow, passionate kiss. He pulled out and you grabbed Meg pulling her up to the top of the bed. The three of you fell asleep quickly legs tangled together.

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#meg masters #castiel #castiel x reader #meg masters x reader #smut #supernatural

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tfrinpin · 3 years

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I honestly...just wanted to draw sexy butts and this seemed like the perfect AU to do. No regrets. Absolutely none. @pastelpaperplanes this is ALL YOUR FAULT.

#yeah megs might faint at this point #or Ops suit might go first #whichever #Op gonna end up naked either way #tfrinpin #rinpin #pastelpaperplanes #transformers #transformers animated #cops and mobs creations #cops and mobs au #tfa optimus prime #optimus prime #tfa megatron #Megatron #butts #soft body

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percywinchester27 · 4 years

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A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-8)

Word count: 4.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: fluff, feels, cute stuff ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Aha! Here it is! The part a lot of you have been waiting for ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23 I love you, Athina <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Someone had an interesting night,” Meg commented salaciously as you entered the apartment, eyeing the grey coat you were clutching tightly against your body.

Why she was up at two-thirty in the morning was a question you had stopped asking. It was how things were. She camped out in the living room most nights.

It had been a long night consisting of overthinking and multiple efforts to not break-down in the middle of a library. Now, your head was hurting from it.

“That looks expensive,” she whistled, eager for your reply.

She did not get one.

Tonight, you did not have the strength to explain anything.

“Meg,” you said heavily. “Is it okay if I sleep on the couch, tonight? I- I don’t think I can fall asleep by myself.”

“Sure.” She got up to make space for you, dragging her books with her on the carpet.

You removed your shoes and fell onto the sofa, rolling on one side and hugging your knees.

The coat had mostly stopped smelling like him, except for those faint traces and you clung to those forcefully.

Meg had a habit of reading out loud when she was memorising text. You had once challenged her to read without moving her lips and she had failed miserably at it. Kevin still made it a point to bring it up every now and then to tease.

Her lulling voice, soft in the background was very comforting to you as you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would bring more questions than answers, you knew that. For now, you didn’t want to think about any of it.

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27th August 2008

There was a certain trepidation as you stood on the porch of his house, hand raised towards the bell. What were you even doing? So Sam and you had been out for a couple more dates, that didn’t obligate him to spend every other day with you. So what if Ellen wasn’t home and Jo had a date. You could be by yourself for one evening, right? Restlessness shouldn’t be a motivator to land you in front of Sam’s house at seven in the evening.

No, it was extremely impolite to barge into someone’s house without calling first. You fisted your raised, about to put it down, when the door opened. Dean Winchester stood on the other side, in his classic leather jacket, hands closed around the keys of his beloved car.

“Y/N!” He looked surprised at your unexpected appearance. Not that you blamed him.

You waved awkwardly. “I made muffins- remember, I promised I’d get you some on the day of the picnic?- and some apple pie. I was feeling keyed up and I thought I’d pay Sam a visit. I’m so sorry for showing up without notice, I know it’s not- “

“Y/N,” Dean cut you off. “Why’re you saying sorry? C’mon in!” He stepped aside to let you in, then grinned at you. “You had me at pie.”

The hallway was comfortably lit and paneled in dark wood, without any of those nonsense peony wallpapers that were a fad.”

“Aren’t you coming in as well?”

Dean shook his head. “I got a date with your cousin.”

Right. How stupid of you. You knew Jo was going out for a date… obviously it wouldn’t be by herself.

“Sam’s in the living room, straight and left,” he said. “He can have all the muffins, but don’t let him touch that pie.” He winked at you before leaving.

You stared at the closed door, then at the basket in your hand. How had you managed to get yourself alone with Sam Winchester? There was still time for you to turn around and make a run for it, but the butterflies in your stomach kept pulling you towards the living room.

Sam was sitting cross legged on the sofa, bare feet, in a grey t-shirt and old jeans. Books were splayed around him, a laptop balanced on his right knee, eyes intently focused on the screen. From where you stood, you could only see his side profile and boy did he look handsome. The opportunity was too good to let go. You walked around quietly, placing the basket lightly on the floor and softly treaded to the back of the sofa. Slowly, you placed your hand on his eyes from behind. Sam jumped, the laptop almost crashing to the floor. His hand shot out reflexively to catch it, the other coming to rest over yours.

“I’d recognise your hand anywhere,” he said.

“Dang it!”

He took hold of your wrist and pulled you around to the front, then tugged so you fell into his lap, the laptop lightly toppling on the sofa next to him.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” He whispered, one hand going around your waist, the other weaving into your cascading hair. You caught hold of his shoulders and dipped down to press your lips against his. The kiss was hot, passionate, as well as tender. Wherever his skin touched yours, the nerves were set on fire. Soon, you were gasping for breath.

“The pleasure-” you breathed out, breaking the kiss, “- is all mine.”

Sam pecked the side of your face again, lips wet still.

“I was literally just thinking about you,” he said, eyes staring at you in wonderment. “What’re you? A mind reader or something?”

You slid down slightly, so you were more comfortably seated in his lap. “Not a mind reader. I just missed you. I think I interrupted something important.”

He glanced at the ignored laptop. “Nevermind that. I was at wits end anyway.”

Normally, you would have jumped out of his lap. It felt so intimate to be sitting like this. However, Sam was snuggled so close to you, and so obviously unwilling to let go of you, that you didn’t make a move.

“What’re you up to?” You looked up at him.

“Remember when I told you I had to fly to New York, a few weeks back?”

“Yeah.”

“It was for an interview at this bigshot firm.”

You sat up. “Really? That’s great! How did it go?”

He frowned. “It went well enough. I heard from them yesterday. They are interested in hiring me as a junior associate.”

“But?” You could sense it was coming from the way his forehead furrowed.

“But, I don’t understand why they would wait for me to clear the bar and then join them. It’ll be a couple of months at least. It would have been easier to just reject me. I went for the interview because a senior from college set it up for me. I didn’t expect anything to come out of it.”

It was hard to believe that after everything he had achieved in life, he still had such self doubts. You attempting to tell him how exceptional he was would seem patronising, so you didn’t.

“Tell me something.” You snuggled closer and Sam automatically adjusted himself so accommodate you comfortably. “Do you want to work at this place?”

He looked at you and hesitated just for a second. In that moment you saw through him. It wasn’t the bar that was worrying him. He didn’t think that he couldn’t clear it. It wasn’t self doubt that was holding him back. It was reluctance.

“It would be a good thing for my career.”

You decided not to push him on it.

“Then that’s that.” Reluctantly, you got up from his lap and straightened the laptop. “I have something for you.”

Sam perked right up.

You pulled out the muffins from the basket and handed him one, eagerly waiting for his response.

Sam moaned after the first bite. “These are delicious!”

Your gran was amazing at this, and you had taken up baking in your spare time now. It relaxed you to be around that aroma.

“Where’s the kitchen? I can put this in and leave, so you can continue with studying.”

Sam looked horrified. “No, no, don’t leave. Please!”

His eyes were wide, eyebrows just a little scrunched and lips almost moulded in a pout. The expression held some surprising power. It could crumble hearts.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you… are you giving me puppy dog eyes?”

“Is it working?” He countered, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Like a frigging charm. You didn’t tell him that.

“Fine. I’ll stay, but you still gotta study, okay?”

Sam batted his eyelashes and you burst out laughing. “Now you’re just overdoing it. I’m just gonna put these in!”

You wandered in the direction which he had pointed towards, wondering about how somehow that tall and built like a runway model could pull such an innocent expression. You put the pie in the fridge and the muffins in a box over the oven. The kitchen like the rest of the house was cozy and comfortable.

On your way out you paid more attention to the rest of the room. At the far end there was a grand piano and behind it, a bookshelf in the same wood that panelled the hallway. You gravitated towards it. The piano looked polished, the keys slightly yellowed as if it was well played. The bookshelf was full of a crazy collection of books, from Kurt Vonnegut to Plato. Running your fingers over the spines, they stopped over a title. You pulled the book out.

“Sam?” You asked hopefully, returning to the sofa. “Can I borrow this book, please? My copy is still at Gran’s place and it’s my favourite. I swear I’ll treat it well.”

He flicked your wrist over to see which book it was, then shook his head indulgently. “Should have figured. Of course you can borrow it.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, flicking through the pages of the copy of To kill a mockingbird. “I was thirteen, I think, the first time I read it. Fell in love with Atticus.”

“I don’t think there’s a better fictional lawyer,” Sam mused. “It’s hard to live up to him.”

“Mhmm.”

Sam suddenly got up. “Where are my manners? Can I get you something? Coffee?”

You took hold of his hand and dragged him down again. “I’m having trouble sleeping lately. Caffeine won’t help.”

His brow furrowed, however, he didn’t press you for a reason.

“How about I read to you from the NY Civil Code. That is interesting enough to put you to sleep for at least a week straight.”

You laughed. “It does look plenty interesting. You mind if I take a look at your notes?”

Sam spread his arms. “Knock yourself out.”

It was like being a child in a candy store, as you flipped through his books and notes. The text was complicated and the legal language seemed bafflingly difficult. There were bundles of notes in Sam’s thin, pointy handwriting. They looked very systematic even though you didn’t understand much.

“It’s the basics of types of legal actions,” Sam supplied. “Difference between a plaint, suit, petition and a litigation.”

“What is it? What’s the difference?”

Sam eyed you with some amusement. “You really want to know?”

“Mhmm.” This was something you had always wanted to talk about, but never had anyone to talk to. Of course you wanted to know more.

Sam flipped the pages of his book, till he found the one he was looking for.

“Alright,” he said, eyes bright with interest. “The easiest and most basic of all is a litigation. It simply means the process of taking any legal action. So, everything else, your suits, petitions, plaints and complaints, invariably everything falls under a broadly classified litigation. Now, a petition is a litigation filed to seek remedy in respect of any infringement of a constitutional right of the individual. The one who files it is the petitioner and the one it is filed against is the respondent. You with me so far?”

You nodded quickly.

Sam smiled. “Next one- and this is the one that’s going to make me money- is a suit or a lawsuit. The affected person files a suit in order to seek justice in respect of any civil right or claim they are entitled to. Here, the person who files the suit is referred to as the plaintiff and the persons against whom it has been filed is the defendant or the defendants, depending on the number of parties,” he cleared with a tilt of his neck.

Sam went on to tell you about the general magnitude of impact that both of them had once filed.

“So, a petition can be filed only against a government body, right? Because… only they can harm your constitutional right, cause they’re the ones who execute it.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You’re kinda right. Petitions; specifically writ petitions are filed against public bodies, yeah. And suits against private parties. You’re really quick, aren’t you? I’m impressed.”

You bit your lip. “It’s not like that, you’re just a really good teacher.”

“Am I now?”

The way he said it and the way he was looking at you, reminded you once more that you were alone in the house with him.

“You should consider teaching,” you said, wiggling your hands in your lap. “You’d make an awesome professor.” God help the poor students who would have to concentrate on his words while looking at him. You surely would never be able to manage that.

Looking up, you saw that Sam blushing furiously.

He was so bad at taking compliments! It made you fall deeper in love with him.

You jerked back at that thought. Love? Did you love Sam Winchester?

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, There’s also Public Interest Litigations…”

The words were lost on you now, as you reeled in the realisation. Was this how it felt to be in love? To have those butterflies constantly assault your stomach, to have your breath taken away from you each time he so much as even looked at you? As intense as it all felt, it wasn’t a bad feeling. Not at all.

“... so no one really cares about them in the Supreme Court.”

“Uhh… yeah.”

“You’re sleepy, aren’t you?” Sam asked dubiously. “I did bore you with all the legal talk.”

“No… no,” you denied, but at the same time you yawned.

Sam laughed. “That’s alright. You can just lie down here and rest.”

You tried to protest but Sam cut you off. “When Dean comes back, I can drive you home.”

You were sleepy, sure. but it wasn’t because the subject was boring. It was because of how relaxed you felt around him.

Finally, you gave in, leaning into the sofa. Sam adjusted himself so that your head rested in his lap.

“Earlier when you asked about NY, I wasn’t being completely honest with you,” Sam said after a while. “I’m not sure about this job, Y/N. I thought it was what I wanted, but that was before.”

“What do you mean?”

His hand came to rest on your head, his fingers absently carding through your hair.

“I thought a good job would make me happy. Coming back to Lawrence… It was like a wake-up call. It made me realise that the job would mean moving away from Dean for good. I mean with the way things are going with Jo, I’ll have to get my own place sooner or later anyway.”

You giggled. They did seem nauseatingly in love. It was all very cute.

“... then there’s you.” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to lose what we have. I know you’ll be moving to a University soon, but you’ll return to Lawrence for your vacations, to your family, and I don’t want to lose out on that.”

You caught hold of his hand that was in your hair and brought it to your lips, kissing his palm. You noted with shyness that goosebumps erupted on his skin on the back of his hand..

“Sam, do you think I’ll want to visit Jo and aunt El, and not want to see you? I’ve been so winded all day today- because I hadn’t seen you for two days- that I had to barge into your house. We can make this work. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It sure is a novel feeling. I’ve never had the reason to trust anyone because I wasn’t afraid to lose them. I feel like I’ve opened myself up to you in pieces and now I can’t put them all back.”

Strange. He was rendering words to the exact emotion of your heart.

“It’s settled then. You prepare for the bar and who knows I just might land a college on the east coast. Maybe we’ll be closer than we think.”

He sighed wistfully. “Maybe.”

You let go of his hand. After lingering for a few seconds over your lips, then your cheek, his fingers went back to your hair.

It was a lovely feeling, the scrapping of his knuckles against the base of your hair.

“Read to me?”

“Civil procedure?” He chuckled.

“Sure,” you smiled snuggling against his side. When he started reading, it wasn’t the civil code.

“Chapter one,” Sam read. “When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem’s fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury....”

You smiled to yourself, listening to your favourite book being read out loud. Sam’s voice was deep, husky, and you closed your eyes, taking in the words till they lost their meaning, and only his voice remained, soft and comforting.

“Who plays the piano?” You remembered asking sleepily.

“I do,” he replied, after a pause, then went back to reading.

You were long removed from consciousness and the voices must have been part of your dream, or just part of your imagination.

“At least carry her upstairs,” Dean was saying.

“No, she might wake up,” Sam said. “I’ll just get my pillow and sleep on the floor here. Will you let Jo know that she’ll be staying over?”

“Sure.”

It could have been seconds later or maybe hours; you felt a soft pressure against your temple, and a whispered prayer. “I love you.”

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

Your alarm woke you up at seven am sharp. Meg was nowhere to be seen in the living room and the door to her room was closed. However, a soft blanket- one that you didn’t recognise- was pulled over your body. You were touched by the gesture.

It might have been a dreamless sleep, but having spent the night on the sofa had sure taken a toll on your back, the stiff clothes leaving imprints on your body. You looked down at the coat you were still wearing. What were you going to do with it?

You were definitely more level headed now about what had happened last night; were able to look at it more objectively without your emotions wrecking you apart. This had to have happened just when you had somewhat accepted the fact that Sam didn’t care for you. It hurt; it hurt each time he averted his gaze from you, but you had learned to live with it, live around it.

Now you didn’t know how to live with even an ounce of affection he showed you. How pathetic was that? You had gone back and forth with yourself last night over whether you were mistaken about whose coat it could be. Each time you found yourself arriving at the same conclusion. It was definitely Sam. The color, the scent, it was all him.

The next question that arose was what to do with the coat. You couldn’t keep it after making sure that you had almost nothing left from that life. Hell, you’d never be able to concentrate on anything except the coat if it stayed with you. You couldn’t throw it away. Even the thought caused you pain. That left you with only one option- returning it to Sam, which was a whole new matter… and raised so many mind boggling questions of its own.

How were you going to return it? How were you going to bring yourself up to look him in the eye and talk to him after everything that had happened? And even if you managed to do all those things, what if he outright refused to acknowledge that the coat was his? You didn’t think you could live through that. To guess his harshness was one thing, but to be proven of it by facing him was another.

He had steadfastly refused to look at you all this while, and so far it had worked out for you. What if he looked at you with such hatred that it erased every memory of his loving eyes. Could you live through that?

You put your head in your hands, feeling a hollow in your stomach. One thing was clear to you, the coat had to go, and it had to go today.

It was with a subdued but determined face that you took a seat in Sam’s lecture. As was the norm, he ignored you completely. When the lecture ended you hurriedly got up, clutching your satchel to your chest. It was bulging full.

“Y/N,” Madison called. “The next lecture is cancelled, where are you going?”

“I… er… I had some work,” you said. It was good enough for Madison, but not so much for the girls behind her, particularly Rebecca.

“You’re coming for the party, right?” Rebecca asked, too sweetly. “You know, Maddy’s birthday party.”

Shit. It had completely slipped your mind that the party was this weekend. You had promised Madison you’d go. The idea didn’t appeal to you one bit, though. You’d rather just hang out with the apartment gang, especially since you weren’t working this weekend.

“Of course she’s coming,” Madison said confidently. “Aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Yeah.” No way you could get out of it without hurting Madison. She had been nothing but kind to you. You had to pay it back somehow.

Madison gave you a charming smile. “We’ll have so much fun.”

You doubted that to the highest degree, but now was not the time to dwell over that. You waved and left the room quickly, before anyone could ask you where you were headed.

With a trepidation that made you feel like you were existing outside your body, you walked towards where you knew Sam’s office was. You could feel your every heartbeat individually as if it was being hammered onto your ribcage. Something was painfully lodged in your throat. It hurt to swallow. At every step you wanted to turn around and run away. Too soon you were in front of his glazed glass door. In silver etched letters, it read:

Prof. Samuel Winchester, J.D.

You knocked on the glass panel. Three quick raps. The ball of nervousness in your stomach made you want to throw up, but you held still.

“Come in,” came his voice from inside.

With shaking fingers, you pushed the door and stepped inside. The door closed behind you. Sam was writing something, a hand held up apologetically, asking for a moment. With a flourish, he finished the sentence and looked up with expectant eyes. It lasted for a split second before they widened in shock. The exact expression from your first day at Stanford, the same one that had haunted you ever since. Pure shock.

What would you even call him? Professor Winchester? Sam? You weren’t sure if you still had that right on him.

He stood up, the chair scraping across the linoleum behind him. The sounds echoed even in the small room. The distance of a few feet felt like miles to conquer.

Mutely you pulled out the coat from your bag. It was unwashed and wrinkled. You walked up to his desk and offered it to him, eyes trained on the table.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

For a horrified moment you thought he wouldn’t take it, but then he reached for it, gripping the fabric tightly and you let go, still looking down.

You wanted to say something, anything because this silence, his silence was agonising. No words came to you, though. There was too much to be said, and no sentence seemed enough.

His desk was organised; books neatly stacked on one side, papers arranged along a single edge. Two frames stood on his desk with their backs to you, and you wondered if someone you recognised was in one of those frames, if they were the same ones that he used to keep on his bedside. A smiling picture of him and Dean. The pang returned at the thought of Dean, and everything that you had left behind.

Slowly, you turned your back to the desk and the man standing behind it, certain that he wanted nothing to do with you. The coat had been a lapse of judgement, a moment of pity for someone he used to know, but didn’t care for anymore. He was just a very kind person. That was all it had been. All your upheaval since, had been for nothing.

You grabbed the handle and twisted it.

“Y/N.”

You would have cried. You would have let go of that handle, slid to the ground and broken down in that moment.

For years you had beaten yourself down to accept that this would never happen. You would never hear Sam speak your name ever again. Now, it was happening. What was more? there was no anger in his voice, no hint of disgust.

You dropped your hand and turned, his voice, your name still reverberating in your ears.

Sam looked as taken aback by his words as you. As if they had left his lips without his conscious consent. His eyes were clear, brow slightly furrowed. There was no harshness in his expression and none of that sharpness or hate.

He bowed his head a bit, like he was acknowledging some kind of defeat. Then, he spoke, voice as comforting as the warmth of your favourite rug on a stormy evening. “How are you?”

Like I haven’t truly breathed before this moment. Like the last six years without you, were a special torture created just for me. Like the very sight of you is a miracle and you saying my name a talisman against every misery I’ve ever lived. Like I haven’t been okay up until this very moment.

All the words that couldn’t be said.

You merely shrugged, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from showing.

Sam dipped his chin and gave you a look that seemed to stare right into your soul, the side of his lips curving into a sad smile.

Impossible.

“H-how are you?” You whispered through a thick throat.

He shrugged, too, the smile still in place. It broke your heart to see a look of such profound sadness on his face.

You took a subconscious step ahead, wanting to run to him and throw your arms around him. What’s the worst that could happen? He would push you back? It still wouldn’t hurt as much as not being able to feel him right now.

You took a deep breath, almost taking a step-

The door to the office opened and you jumped, almost crashing into the stand.

Professor Mills looked at you in surprise, then at Sam.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were busy,” she said.

Sam shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts; still said dazedly, “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“I was just leaving,” you mumbled, catching your breath.

She looked at you curiously. “You’re from the first year, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the one who wrote the paper on semantics in legal writing. Y/L/N, was it?”

“Yes, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“She’s the one we were talking about, remember?” She asked Sam. “The one whose style reminded me of you.”

Sam nodded curtly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“That was a good paper,” she said. “Very impressive.”

“Thank you, professor,” you replied. “I’ll get going then.”

You gave Sam a nod, “Professor.” And hurried out of the room as fast as you could. The hot air outside cleared your head and you stumbled into one of cement seating in the spill out space outside the offices. Had you really been about to throw yourself at Sam?

Most of you wanted to pass out from the intensity of that interaction, but a small part of you wondered if it really would have been that awful if you had actually followed your insane instinct and done it anyway. You sat there till your breathing returned to normal and you could feel your legs again.

You took the first steps towards home.

Y/N.

How are you?

He had called out to you and looked at you with the absolute certainty that only came from knowing the depth of someone’s soul. He didn’t hate you. As you walked, you felt lighter than you had in years, like the weight of the world had been lifted off of your shoulders. You could pick your feet up and they wouldn’t touch the ground again. It felt like being set free.

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

A/N 2: So at least the ‘not talking’ and ignoring is out of the way ;) Once you start, it is difficult to stop talking, I suppose. Especially when there are clearly still feelings involved ;)

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who commented and reblogged. I love you guys!

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anathewierdo · 4 years

Text

Call of the Ocean Chapter 14: Gentlemen’s Duel

Pairing: CEO!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 6038

Chapter summary: The more time Dean and Thasman spend together, the more the tension grows until they finally snap. Turns out, humans are one big complicated matter; especially humans who think they’re in love. Y/N gets her first job ever and (if she may say so herself while quoting Dean) she kinda rocks at it.

Series summary: CEO of Winchester Auto Dean Winchester has had enough of the office life. With his father keeping him from what he wants to do, which is work on the plant floor, Dean decides to leave for a quiet life. In Matagorda, Texas, he finds something he never thought he would, a chance encounter with a mythical creature.

Call of the Ocean Masterlist

A/N: College is cool, but I am literally aching to get back to writing new stuff for y’all. In the meantime, enjoy this awesome series that @flamencodiva and I wrote together. Text dividers made by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Next chapter will be posted on Saturday, October 3rd

Benny and Cas stood in the kitchen the next morning. Both of them worried about Dean. He spent all day with the mysterious Y/N, and they were ready to talk to him about it. He seemed pissed and stormed off.

“Think he’ll talk about it?” Cas asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

“You know how Dean is brotha,” Benny sighed. “He is going to shut himself up tighter than a clam.”

“You’re right,” Cas said as he looked at his watch. “Bacon smell to wake him up?”

“Yeah, I think he needs it, Benny chuckled before walking to the fridge and grabbing a packet of bacon to cook.

Dean hadn’t slept the entire night. Every time he tried, he kept dreaming about a black cloud coming and taking Y/N into the ocean where she would be dragged under. His interpretation was that she was drowning and took it to mean she would be lost and trapped forever. His fingers grazed over the scale necklace. He felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, almost as if Y/N was with him. Looking at the clock, he let out a heavy sigh. He’d give anything to spend more time with her, but his shop is important. He had to prove to his father he could be a CEO and work with his hands.

Getting up, he got dressed in clothes that he wouldn’t mind getting dirty and opened the door. The smell of bacon reached his nose, but his heart wasn’t in it. Taking a deep breath he forced a smile on his face, and made his way towards the kitchen where he knew his friends were waiting.

“Who’s ready to renovate!” he exclaimed as he slapped Cas on his back, making him choke on his coffee.

“We are,” Benny chuckled before turning serious. “But, are you okay brother?”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” Dean brushed Benny off and made his way to the plate of cooked bacon.

Benny was about to say something when Cas shook his head. The Cajun glared at the other blue-eyed in the room and rolled his eyes. They both watched as Dean only took three pieces of bacon when Benny had made a good twenty.

“So,” Cas belted out. “We start the demo today! How are we going to do it without harming the wall Bobby wants to save and restore?”

“Might not know until we get there,” Dean sighed. “I’m thinking maybe he can let us repaint it if the integrity of the wall is compromised?” Dean wondered. “I don’t want him to lose a piece of himself and I hope the wall is sturdy for it.”

“We should get going then so we can assess the structure and see if we can do it ourselves or have to hire some guys,” Cas said as he looked at his watch. “I also need to make sure Bobby knows that I can work hard too.”

“Well with those soft hands,” Benny teased. “Who can deny that you work hard?”

“Fuck you, Benny,” Cas grumbled as he placed his dirty cup in the sink and grabbed his jacket. “Come on, the last thing we need is for the old man to get grumpy that we’re late.”

Dean had stayed quiet throughout Cas and Benny’s bickering. It didn’t go unnoticed by the two friends. Usually, Dean would jump in and rag on who was being teased. But something was off with him, and Cas and Benny were going to get it out of him even if they had to hogtie him to the Impala.

Meanwhile, at Ellen’s, the light that filtered through the bedroom window was what woke Y/N from her slumber. Y/N hadn’t been able to get Dean off her mind. The feel of his lips on her forehead still lingered. The sad look in his eyes haunted her. Did she make him sad? Maybe Thasman was right and this was a bad idea. She felt a dull ache in her chest at the thought of leaving Dean sad and alone.

Giving a small stretch, she got ready to start the day. She could hear the faint sounds of Ellen cooking in the kitchen and the smell of breakfast hitting her nose. A small smile played on her lips and she wondered if Ellen would help her with her idea. Dressing quickly, she made her way downstairs and grabbed a mug and what Ellen had called ‘coffee’.

Ever since Y/N was given a taste of it, she had loved drinking it. It was one of the things she was going to miss most about the human world. She hadn’t realized she was deep in thought until Ellen waved a hand in front of her face.

“You alright, Darlin?” Ellen questions as she looked at Y/N full of concern.

“What?” Y/N snapped out of her thoughts.

“Thinking about, Dean?” Ellen probed with a smirk.

“No,” Y/N denied with a scoff. “I mean, his green eyes are dreamy but, no I was just thinking about what we can do today?”

Ellen gave her a knowing smile, but let it go. “Well, I was thinking we could drop Thasman at Bobby’s so he could help Dean with the renovations of the place or continue with his driving lessons. I have to work today, and I can’t exactly sneak you in.”

“Where do you work Ellen? Maybe you can say that you have hired me?” Y/N said as she looked at Ellen with a hopeful gaze.

“I own a small bar and diner in town,” Ellen sighed. “I had my manager hold off the fort while I got you and Thasman settled.” Ellen bit her lip as she looked at the young mermaid. “I don’t know Y/N--”

“Please, Ellen,” Y/N begged. “I can learn! And It gives me a chance to experience another human thing.. Working.” she reached for Ellen’s hands and held it in hers. “Please?”

Ellen gave a defeated sigh. “If anything goes wrong, I won’t allow this again.”

“Yes!” Y/N cheered, giving the elder woman a hug. “You won’t regret it Ellen! Thank you!”

Y/N smiled brightly as she made her way to the room she’d been staying in, pulling out clothing and getting herself ready to go with Ellen.

She would see where Ellen worked. It didn’t take long for Ellen to finish up and they piled into Ellen’s car. Dropping off Thasman was quick as he raced out and into Bobby’s house. As Ellen and Y/N were leaving, Y/N saw the familiar Black Impala pulling up. She wished they had time to say hello, but she knew Ellen had to get to work.

The establishment was very nice. There were people walking around the place with big trays holding and offering food to what she assumed were the customers. At the back of the building, there was a wall covered in shelves that held bottles of different colors and sizes along with glass cups.

“Ellen!”

A man with short hair in the front but long hair in the back called out.

“Thank god you’re back!” He cried. “Meg has been a nightmare!”

“I’m here now, Ash,” Ellen laughed.

“Yes you are and I can breathe!” Ash smiled. “I can take my smoke breaks again!” Ash was about to go back to the kitchen when he noticed Y/N and walked up to her. “Well, hello.” he took her hand and kissed it. “Who is this lovely creature of the sea?”

“Her name’s Y/N, Ash. She’s gonna help around here today. You and Meg will show her what to do and how to do it and you’ll keep your hands to yourself, understood?”

“Y/N,” Ash drawled and smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet such a beautiful treasure such as yourself.” he flirted, much to Ellen’s dismay.

“Thank you,” Y/N pulled her hand away from Ash and moved closer to Ellen.

“Sugar,” Ellen draped her arm around Y/N. “Meg and I will show you how to take orders. Just keep in mind you might want to write down everything you can until you get the hang of it.”

“Alright.”

“You’ll do fine, hon,” Ellen assured once more before waving at another woman. “Meg! I need you here for a moment.”

“Coming Ellen,” A woman with black hair called out.

Y/N watched as she walked up and glared at Ash.

“I see we’re wasting time instead of making the orders needed to feed the customers,” Meg growled as she crossed her arms.

“Boss is here now, amiga, tone it down.” Ash rolled his eyes as he extended a hand. “Gimme that notepad. I’ll cover while you’re here.”

“Like hell you will,” Meg growled. “You get your ass back in the kitchen and cook for my customers!”

Ellen sighed and rubbed her forehead, “Ash kitchen, Meg you help Y/N learn the ropes. I’ll take some orders.” Ellen strategized.

“Yes ma’am,” the guy nodded. He glared once more at Meg, “See ya around, demon.”

“Going to kick you--” Meg started.

“Meg,” Ellen sighed. “Back to work come on.”

Y/N smiled at the woman. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Meg. It’s nice to meet you too. Have you ever worked as a waitress before?”

“Never.” she shook her head.

“You really are fresh meat then,” Meg pointed out. “C’mon. We’re gonna get the basics over with and then I’ll show you how to take an order.”

Back at the garage, renovations were going steady, with Cas and Benny tearing down a wall to give the garage more space, Dean sketching over the plans of the building to make sure that they weren’t screwing anything up.

Bobby had tried to resume Thasman’s driving lessons, but quickly decided that it would be better if the young man joined them in the renovations.

“You’ll learn more with them than you will with me right now,” he said. “I think they can use an extra pair of hands.”

“But Bobby,” Thasman sighed. “I-- I’m not really comfortable with that Dean guy.” he sent a small glare towards Dean’s back.

“Help him. If you still don’t like him by the end of the day, we’ll go back to driving and you’ll go back to avoiding him. Now, stop whining and go help, boy.”

Thasman growled, “Fine, but if he gives me a chance to punch him,” He crossed his arms. “I’m taking it.”

“You won’t. Now go help them.”

Thasman huffed and made his way towards Benny, Castiel, and Dean. With his hands in his pockets he kicked at the dirt and sighed. He had started to talk when he turned around and bumped into Bobby who glared at him. Letting out a frustrated grunt, Thasman turned around and stumbled when Bobby pushed him towards the three men.

“You okay there, Thasman?” Dean asked as he noticed the young merman.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you want me to help you with something?”

“Sure,” Dean smiled. “I think we can start by measuring out the space and seeing if we can just do it ourselves or need to get a company to help us out. Might need to lay a new foundation so we can work smoother.”

“Got it,” Thasman nodded. "The mermaid painting stays, right?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "That's going to be tough. But, I'm ready to bring in an artist if I need to to help restore her."

Thasman gave a grunt in affirmation, and put himself to work alongside Dean. Dean could feel the tension between them. He didn't want to come between Thasman and Y/N.

"Thasman," Dean began. "Can I be honest with you?"

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugged distractedly. “Go ahead.”

"Why do you hate me?" Dean breathed.

“I don’t hate you, Dean,” He recognized. “I don’t trust you. There’s a difference.”

"Okay," Dean said. "How do I get you to trust me? I like Y/N, Thasman. I would never hurt her."

“It’s not about what you would or wouldn’t do to her, you big jellyfish.” he rolled his eyes, reaching back and readjusting the bun at the nape of his neck. “Whatever I think or say, Y/N’s gonna do whatever she wants to do. If there’s one thing I have clear about her, it’s that there’s no stopping her when she’s set on something she wants. She’ll hit a limit sooner or later, but at least she’ll get close.”

“Then?” Dean prodded.

“It’s better for both of you if you just drop it.” he looked at Dean in the eyes.

He noticed Benny and Castiel working on moving more stuff out, and guided Dean towards the wall with the mermaid painting, keeping his voice low. “There’s no way around what’s coming for Y/N. We’re gonna go back home, we’ll get married hopefully, and come visit whenever we can, but it’s her destiny, Dean. It’s completely out of our control and we can’t do anything to stop it. You can’t do anything to stop it.” Thasman let out a sigh and closed his eyes in frustration. “If you want to be around her, fine. If you want to talk to her, fine. But the sad reality is, she will go back home.”

“You are planning on marrying her?!” Dean hissed. He glared at the young merman before him.

“I have met and fought my competitors, Dean. I know what her other options are, and we both agree I’m the best outcome of a terrible situation.” Thasman reasoned.

“How can you be fighting for her hand like she’s a goddamn prize?!” Dean growled as he got closer to Thasman. His jaw clenched and hands in fists.

“Have you heard nothing of what I have said?” Thasman exclaimed in exasperation, then took a breath to calm himself down and lower his voice once more. “I do not love her. Not in that way. But if she has to marry someone, I’d rather it be me than some stranger who only wants a crown to show off.”

“So if I can give her the freedom to love someone for a few days, I shouldn’t?” Dean asked, trying to clarify something.

“How can you give her love when you have only known her for a few days? You’re infatuated, not in love.” Thasman scoffed as he shook his head at the human.

Dean gave him a tight smile before shoving Thasman hard, “You don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t feel.”

Thasman’s jaw tensed as he gave Dean a threatening smile. “Are you sure you want to fight me, Dean?”

Thasman took a few steps towards Dean. The two men standing toe to toe. Dean felt disgusted at what he heard Thasman say. He was going to be the one to marry Y/N. Is that why Thasman hated him, because he was getting close? Y/N wasn’t a prize to be won, she was a person. She had thoughts, feelings, and dreams. How could this man call himself her friend, and want her to be a prisoner to an archaic system. Dean opened his mouth to accept Thasman’s challenge when the door opened.

“No he doesn’t! You two idjits better stop right now and go back to work!” Bobby growled stomping towards Dean and Thasman. He pulled the young Merman back, “What in the damn hell is wrong with you?”

“Bobby I--” Thasman began

“I think it’d be better if they worked out the tension, Bobby. To get it all over with.” Benny sighed as he walked in and crossed his arms. “If they don’t get it out know they’ll never be able to let it go.”

“Not going to happen in this garage if you want to keep the contract,” Bobby huffed glaring at the three men.

Dean ran a hand across his face and glared at Thasman. “You call yourself her friend. All you are is her prison guard.” With that Dean stomped out to cool off, with Benny following behind him.

Dean grabbed a crowbar along the way and looked for the oldest car that he could beat up. He found a beat up pontiac and held onto it like a bat before he began swinging. Everything in his life was messed up. First Cassie cheats on him, then his father is pushing him to work on things he doesn't want to, he is forced to go to the party with Lisa, and to top it off, the girl who he feels any kind of spark for is set to be given away like some damn prize. With every scream he let out a yell and a curse.

“Dean,” Benny called out.

Dean continued to hit the beat up old car. The window smashed, the body dented. Bobby watched from a few feet away. Dean reminded him of when he lost the love of his life. He could tell by the way Dean looked at Y/N that the boy was a goner.

Dean gave the car one last hit before falling to his knees and letting out a scream that echoed through the salvage yard.

“Dean,” Benny breathed. He didn’t like seeing his friend like this. Why was he reacting this way about some girl he didn’t even know?

“I want to punch his lights out,” Dean growled as he got up from his knees.

Benny placed his hands on Dean’s chest stopping him, “Woah! Brotha, calm down.” Benny got his blue eyes to stare into Dean’s. “Why are you all bent out of shape about a girl you don’t know?”

“I know that when she goes back,” Dean‘s voice quaked and he shook his head. “She will be treated as nothing but a prize. They have this archaic notion to fight to see who marries her.”

“Fuck,” Benny breathed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. And that jackass…” Dean growled. “That douche bag with a low bun jackass, has the balls to call himself her friend when he’s nothing but her prison guard.”

“You think I want this for her?” Dean heard from behind, finding Thasman with shaking fists and jaw set. “I want her to be happy. I want her to be with someone she loves. But the way things are back home, that can’t happen” Thasman said as he took in a shaky breath. “Marrying her is something I never planned until I found out what would happen when we grew up.”

“Yeah, because marrying someone you don’t love is great,” Dean argued. “And what are you going to do when she does find someone she loves? Keep her trapped? What if they want you to have kids?” Dean pointed out. “Would you put her through that? Would you force her?”

Thasman snapped at the accusations. He took Dean by the collar of his shirt and held tight. “I would never do something like that.” He glared at Dean. “I’d rather be thrown to depths of the ocean than hurt Y/N by my own hand. When she finds someone she loves, I’m not going to be the one to stop her.” Thasman shook his head and licked his lips. “You don’t get it. You think you’re so good, that you’re going to be the one to free her. I’ve been studying our law for years in search of an option and I never found anything.”

“I never said that,” Dean spat as he pushed back against Thasman, surprising the merman with his strength. Dean pinned Thasman against another car on the lot. “But I bet you never even been in love. I have. And trust me… It hurts when you’re betrayed. But it would have been worse If that love was never allowed to happen.” Dean pushed at Thasman again keeping the merman pinned. “I learned from being burned by love. But I can tell you this,” He licked his lips. “Y/N is special. Has this light inside her that…” Dean let out a huff. “It’s not something you keep locked up.”

“I’ve seen it.” Thasman responded.

He decided he was done playing games with this human.

Pushing back with more strength, Thasman got Dean stumbling back a few steps, and raised his hands in defeat.

He glared. “I’ll see you at the beach tonight. Then we’ll talk.”

“I’ll be there,” Dean spat. “I’m not going to let you intimidate me from being away from Y/N. But I’m not going to get in the way of your friendship.”

Thasman simply nodded, adjusted his bun, and walked back to the garage. Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He was sure when Y/N found out, she was going to hate him.

Back at the dinner, Y/N had proven she was a fast learner. She had followed Meg’s instructions perfectly and by the middle of the day was taking orders and the perfect waitress. Ellen smiled from behind the counter as she wiped it down for the next customer to sit at.

“She’s not bad,” she muttered to herself as she watched Y/N go around the restaurant taking orders and delivering the food to the tables.

“Where did you find her?” Meg asked as she leaned on the counter. “She’s good.”

Ellen shrugged. “Around. She’s leaving in a few days and wanted to see where I worked.”

“That is a damn shame,” Meg sighed. “Could always use a second pair of hands here. With Jo off at college it’s been tough.” Meg looked into the kitchen and growled. “Damn it, Ash!” she called. “Get back to cooking the orders and stop staring at the new girl’s ass!”

“Sorry!” the man exclaimed as he turned back to his stove.

Ellen almost joined in on the scolding, but was interrupted by the bell as another man entered the diner. She didn’t recognize him, so she assumed he was one of Dean’s friends.

The man headed to the counter, and gave her an awkward smile.

“Hi,” he did a little wave, “I uh, I would like to take five of today’s special, please.”

“Coming right up, hon,” Ellen nodded. “Here or to go?”

The man’s eyes widened, remembering something. “Yes! To go please! I uh– I take it you’re Ellen? Bobby says hi.”

“That would be me. Tell’im I say hi too.” Ellen chuckled.

“Will do,” the man nodded. His eyes wandered to the side, and Ellen saw his smile widened a little bit more as he gave another wave. “Hi, Meg.”

“Good to see you again, Clarence?” Meg said as she smiled at the man. “Good to see that you came back.”

“The food is really good,” he conceded. “I was starting to miss it.”

“You sure it was the food you missed?” Meg flirted as she walked behind the counter to grab the food for her other customers.

“Meg,” Ellen sighed. “Quit flirtin’ and get to workin’”

Y/N walked up to the counter and smiled as she put in her order for one of the tables. She didn’t know the man but figured it would be polite to introduce herself.

“Hello, I’m Y/N,” she said smiling at him. “Welcome!”

“Y/N?” the man tilted his head. “You’re the Y/N Thasman and Dean keep talking about?”

“You know Thasman and Dean?” Y/N asked as she tilted her head.

“I’m Castiel. I’m a friend of Dean’s. I’m helping him restore and open a garage?”

“Castiel? I thought your name was Clarence?” She asked glaring at him slightly. Did he give Meg a false name?

“Meg likes to call me that for some reason,” he chuckled, then turned to look around, trying to get a look of said woman, “I don’t get it, but I’m starting to like it.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, “I see. Are you ordering food for everyone back at Bobby’s?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking some food might improve everyone’s mood back there.” Cas gave a nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Did something happen?” Y/N wondered as she looked at Cas who seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

The man waved her off. “Just a little tension is all. Nothing a good meal can’t handle.”

“Okay,” Y/N said and smiled. “Will you tell them I said hi. And let Thasman know that I love working at Ellen’s Diner!”

“I will.” Cas agreed with a nod. He was going to tease Dean relentlessly about how adorable Y/N was.

“Here you go, Clarence,” Meg said as she brought out three containers and placed them on the counter in front of her. “The rest will be out in a minute. Come on, you’re not gonna get free food.”

“Y/N!” Ellen called. “You got more customers to attend to, hon. C’mon.”

“Coming, Ellen,” Y/N called back. She turned to Cas and smiled. “It was nice meeting you Castiel. I hope to see you again.”

“I hope so too, Y/N.” Cas agreed and waved at her as she began to service more tables.

Back at Bobby’s, tension was running thick between Thasman and Dean. One was helping Benny carry gallons of paint inside while the other was taking pictures of the wall with the mermaid.

“I think I have a friend who can restore the paint on this, Bobby.” Dean said as he took one last picture of the slightly faded mermaid.

“Yeah? Think they can bring her back to her glory days?” Bobby said as he began to examine the wall.

Dean let out a small chuckle. “I’m sure they can, even sharpen out the details and make her come to life.”

The old man gave a court nod, expressionless. “Good.”

“Everything okay, Bobby?” Dean asked as he noted the concerned look on the older man’s face.

“I might need to have someone come look at the structure of the wall,” He sighed sadly.”I haven’t really done a good job maintaining this garage.”

“The way things are looking, there’s a very small chance everything gets done by next week.” Dean admitted. “The place was starting to come down on you… I’m beginning to think a full renovation would be best. But that’s going to take longer. To get ourselves a crew and make sure everything is fine and dandy.”

“Balls!” Bobby exclaimed as he let out a huff. “I was hoping that wouldn’t happen. But I guess we have no other choice.” he grumbled. Walking up to the painting he let his fingers graze along the faded paint.

“She’ll be there, Bobby,” Dean promised. “Your mermaid will be the first thing customers will see when they get in… or maybe she’ll look over us while we’re working on the cars. You pick.”

“I--” Bobby wasn’t sure what to say.

He looked around and ran a hand across his face. He didn’t know if he could live with seeing the one thing that reminded him of his lost love being torn down.

“I need to think,” Bobby sighed as he turned and left the garage.

“Ok.” Dean said as he frowned. Looking at the painting he took a few more pictures, making sure to try and capture the faded detail for his friend to restore.

The look on Bobby’s face let him know that this was not just a painting to him. Looking to Benny he motioned for the blue-eyed Cajun to follow him.

“Think Garth is up for lending us a few guys for the renovation?” He asked Benny.

The Cajun shrugged. “I can ask.”

“Do it, then. The sooner we can start, the better. Hey, Thasman!” Dean called. “I know we’ve had you bringing heavy shit in here all day, but now we need to take it out.” He sighed as he gave the merman a sympathetic smile. “We’re going to have to build from the ground up.”

“Shaahii,” ( a term of frustration)Thasman cursed as he begrudgingly grabbed a few paint buckets and stomped out.

Dean turned to Benny once more, smiling sarcastically. “He so loves me.”

“I’m back, assbutts!” Castiel hollered. “And I have the food!”

“Thank god!” Dean exclaimed.

“Bless you, Cas! You are a saint!” Benny said as he playfully kissed Cas’s cheek.

“Yyt!” Thasman cried as he grabbed a container from Cas.

The man tilted his head, “Bless you?”

“It means food in my language,” Thasman clarified and turned to find a secluded place to eat.

Dean glared at Thasman as the merman walked out, “If it wasn't for Y/N,” he let out. “I’d punch his lights out.”

“Speaking of the famous Y/N… I met her. Benny, I have so much to tell you. She is adorable!”

Dean had his mouth open about to take a bite of his burger. “You what?”

“I met her! Turns out, Bobby’s friend, Ellen, owns a diner in town. Remember that place I mentioned the other night? Harvell’s?”

“Oh!” Benny exclaimed happily. “Cas! You have to tell me what she looked like. And did you say she is adorable?” Benny smiled ignoring Dean’s death glare.

“She is!” Cas said as he gave a teasing smile. “But why is she with Dean? I mean she could do so much better.”

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled.

“I think I might head over to this Dinner and ask for one of their desserts!” Benny said giving Cas a wink. “Gives me a chance to change Y/N’s mind about Dean.”

“Will you two give it a rest!” Dean growled. “It’s bad enough that the poor girl has to go back to some archaic ritual when she goes home to wherever they’re from. So can we just drop it!” Dean put down his burger and stormed off.

Benny held up a hand to Cas and sighed, “I got him. He’s been having a tough couple of days. This Y/N girl must be special if he’s acting like this.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah. I think so too...Go get’im, Benny.”

Benny gave Cas a pat on his shoulder before leaving the garage.

“Dean!” Benny called as he caught up with his friend. “Dean, man, come on. I have never seen you get this riled up over someone.”

“I just,” Dean huffed. “I feel this pull towards her Benny. I can’t explain it. I--” He ran a hand across his face. “When I first saw her at the grocery store my heart stopped.” he gave his friend a smile. “And I remember you told me that when you first met Andy, your heart raced and your palms got sweaty, right?”

“They did…” Benny trailed off.

“Benny, I swear,” Dean scoffed with a smile. “This girl is different. There is something about her and I--” he ran a hand across his face. “I want to do everything that I can to make sure she’s safe.”

“Ok, you know what, Brother? I’m happy for you, I am.” Benny emphasized as he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “ But you have enough on your plate already.” Benny reminded him.” We have the renovations going on, the issue with your father… the fact that she’s leaving in a few days really puts a damp in there. ”

“That’s the thing, Benny.” he sighed. “It doesn’t.”

“What?” Benny asked confused. “How could it not put a damper on things.”

“Because with the small amount of time I have spent with her,” Dean let out a slight laugh. “I’ve felt happy. I’m with her and everything with my dad just melts away.” Dean tapped his knuckles on one of the beat up cars. “She… she helps to distract me from all the bullshit. I-- I also think it’s because she’s being put through the same bullshit I am in. She is being forced to do something she doesn’t want to do.”

“That’s great, D, it really is, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s got the whole marriage thing going on when she goes back.”

“I know I can’t help her run away from her situation,” Dean ran a hand across his face, voice dripping with frustration. “But if I can give her just one small ounce of happiness. Just one memory that she can hold on to--” he took in a shaky breath. “Then damn it I want to try.”

Benny nodded in comprehension, smiling softly at him. “At least be careful, alright?”

“Let me call Garth and see how quickly he and Beth can get here to assess what needs to be done and restore the mermaid.” Dean sighed as he looked over at Bobby who seemed to be deep in thought. “Think naming the shop Singer Garage would be a good idea?”

The man shrugged. “‘S not a bad idea, but let’s think of other options while we can.”

Both men began making calls and trying to work as quickly as possible. Neither noticed Ellen’s car making it’s way in with a Y/N who smiled brightly. The way she bounced towards Thasman caught Dean’s attention. His jaw tightened at the thought that the shine in her eyes and her smile would be suppressed by what would happen when she went back home.

“Thasman!” she squealed. “I love working at Ellen’s diner! It was amazing and I made new friends! Oh and I brought you and Dean some pie!” she rambled. “Where is he?”

Thasman frowned at the way Y/N seemed to smile when she spoke the human’s name. “Lli Bi over there.” (He is) Thasman huffed as he took the container from Y/N and walked towards Bobby.

Y/N tilted her head in confusion at Thasmans tone. He seemed angry. Did something happen between them? She found Dean and another man wedged between a row of what looked like abandoned metal death traps. The way they looked reminded Y/N of the shipwrecks back home. Making her way towards them. Y/N bit her lip as she smiled shyly at Dean.

“Hi,” she greeted.

Dean smiled at seeing her in front of him, “Hey. I heard you’re working at Ellen’s diner? How was your first day?”

“It was amazing!” she squealed. “It was a rush of people and getting orders and putting food on customers tables!” she began to ramble about Meg and Ash and how Ellen would have to stop the bickering between them.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the light that shone in her eyes over her new job. Even if it was just for a small while, she looked happy. He wished he could keep her happy, wished he could keep her with him. As he was looking at her, he couldn’t help but notice Thasman glaring at them.

“Your prison guard isn’t too happy with you talking to me,” he sighed with a soft laugh.

Y/N laughed at what Dean said, “He can be like a prison guard sometimes.” She agreed but looked back to see that Dean was right about Thasman’s demeanor. “Did something happen between you two?”

“Guess you can say I found out he’s one of the guys who gets to fight to marry you,” Dean grumbled. “I wanted to try and be his friend. He said he didn’t trust me.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “And when I asked what I could do to earn his trust he called me a jellyfish and went on a tirade about how he’s tried to find was around your laws but -- I feel like he should try harder.” Dean scoffed. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not my place but… I am starting to care about you Y/N. There is something about you and I want to know you and be your friend and give you just a small bit of freedom.”

“I brought you pie,” was all Y/N said as what had transpired sunk in. “I need to go.”

“Y/N--”

Before he could stop her, she raced back to Ellen’s car where the older woman was waiting. Dean watched as she sent a look to Thasman, who in turn looked at Dean with a glare. He wasn’t sure what she said, but it looked like Thasman would be in trouble.

And that fellas, was chapter 14 :D Thank you so much to everyone who has liked, reblogged, commented and sent asks about the story. Every single one of you has made my day <3

Any and all types of feedback is greatly appreciated :D

My asks are open in case you wanna send feedback, have questions or wanna be added to the tag list :)

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@bi-danvers0

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andavs · 4 years

Note

Oh Leda! Another thing I've been thinking about lately is how fandom always makes stiles to be squeamish of blood, and this stems from that time Derek told him to cut his arm off. "Are you going to faint at the sight of blood? I might at the sight of a severed arm!" And then later he faints when Scott is getting a tattoo which is more about needles than blood? There are so many scenes where he interacts with blood without any discomfort and yet! LOL

The best part is that when Derek asks if he faints at the sight of blood, he says “No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!” He straight up says he’s not and yet...

Squeamish around blood, curly fries, popping the p.

Oh, and calling Derek “big guy” or sourwolf to the point where I’ve started to wince whenever I read them.

Like, have you seen You’ve Got Mail? And the scene where Tom Hanks is scraping all of the caviar off of a dish at a party, and Meg Ryan gets mad like “What are you doing? You’re taking all the caviar? That caviar is a garnish.”

That’s how I feel when fandom overuses those little things. They filled their dish with what was supposed to be a garnish and now it’s in every bite.

Also that gif is perfect because it’s fandom, so if you tell people not to do something, they look you dead in the eye and do it harder.

And yeah, I think it was the needles that got him during the tattoo scene. My favorite part of that scene is that he says he doesn’t like needles and then leans in to see more, and immediately passes out because of it. Is that Stiles in a nutshell or what?

“I’m fully aware this is going to go poorly for me, but I’m curious so I’m going to do it anyway.”

#hey look i'm alive!#theladypeartree

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swimmingnewsie · 4 years

Text

Of Coffee and Cookies- Chapter 17

Link to AO3

---

“Come on, slowpokes! We’re going to be late!”

Elsa couldn’t help but laugh as her little sister rushed ahead, running and tumbling through the streets. Though admittedly it still made Elsa nervous, parkour was an active part of Anna's life now- a part that made Anna happier than she had in months. The pure joy on Anna’s face as she swung around on dubiously strong light fixtures was worth the minor scrapes and bruises she helped fix up at the end of the day.

“Oh no you don’t!”

She shook her head as both Kristoff and Ryder ran ahead as well. They had gotten so competitive in the wake of Anna’s newfound strength, always wanting to race when given the opportunity. It left some sense of normalcy that had been gone for the longest while. But unlike her companions, she felt no reason to rush. Softball had nine innings after all; it was okay to take her time.The warm spring sun felt perfect on her face, a light breeze bringing her peace and clarity of mind.

As April turned to May, the weather wasn’t the only thing that was improving. After her night in the emergency room, things changed quickly for Elsa. Berkeley Behavioral Health had ordered a genetic test for her, one that tested the compatibility of antidepressants with her body. And after years of the wrong medication, Elsa finally had something that worked. Between that and exercise and the increased sessions with her therapist, the highs felt good again and the lows weren’t as scary. It was incredible what just a few small changes made.

She felt better than she had in years.

She could work again. Her responsibilities were still stressful; her students still emailed her at two in the morning over their exam results or advice for their papers; her dissertation was still a mess. But the mess was manageable now. Nights that might have otherwise been lost to crying and sleeplessness had turned into only an hour or two of distress. The chains on her mind had loosened, not broken, but there was space to breathe again. Space for fun. Space for life. And to her greatest joy, space for Honeymaren, who had been by her side the whole time, even when things were tiring or frustrating or upsetting.

Elsa could finally repay her for the previous months in gentle kisses and sweet love. She could be there for all the little moments they had missed before: rubbing soft circles in her back as she lamented the awful PTA meetings she was forced to attend; holding her as she told her about the awful phones calls she had to make that day; smiling as her love got excited over a lacrosse match. Or in this moment, getting to watch the middle school softball team she had heard so much about at night.

The sound of a ball clinking against a bat drew her attention from her thoughts. The faint sound of cheering followed, unconsciously quickening Elsa’s steps towards the small field.

The stands were relatively empty, not that Elsa truly expected much different. It was a sixth grade softball game in the middle of Thursday afternoon; parents were the target demographic. But even for the light crowd, the kids in the dugout certainly filled the field with energy and excitement.

Well at least the kids on the opposite team. Maren’s girls for the most part, bless their hearts, were terrified of the ball. And being a home game, it would take a while to get past the top of the inning.

“Come on, Janie! You can do it! Strike them out!” Maren cheered enthusiastically from the side. Elsa couldn’t help but blush; Maren looked good in her coaching uniform, highlighting more than her authoritative attitude. She couldn’t help but stare at her-

“Quit gawking at your girlfriend! There’s baseball happening here!” Anna shouted from above her.

Elsa laughed, racing up the bleachers to her sister. “You stinker!” she teased, tussling her sister’s hair. “I’ll get you back for that.”

Anna laughed in return. "I'm not the one eye-fucking my girlfriend at a children's sporting event."

"Anna, language!" she jabbed before any of the parents could do the same.

Anna rolled her eyes before looking at Kristoff and Ryder. "Am I wrong?"

Ryder shook his head laughing. "Sorry, sis. I'm asexual as they come and even I can tell that's what you were thinking."

"You've never been exactly subtle, Els," Kristoff chuckled, only causing Elsa to blush more heavily.

Elsa glared at him. It was good natured, but she would kill for the teasing to end."Hush up and watch the game."

"As you wish, your majesty."

---

"Eye on the ball doesn't mean it's gonna hit you! You can do it, Megs!" Ryder shouted from the stands.

Even he had to admit, this year's team wasn't the easiest to cheer for. The girls were quite timid and afraid, especially of the spherical object that ran the game. But, dutiful brother and occasional waterboy, he would cheer them on day in and day out. Even if they hadn't scored in four games.

"I'm sorry, Coach's Brother!" A dejected preteen shouted back after striking out.

"It's okay, kid! You'll get it next time!"

Ryder sat back down, resting between two bleachers. The innings were moving slowly, but at least they were moving. He looked to the field changing and then to his friends around him. Maren was high-fiving her students, making any attempt to bring their spirits up. Elsa on the other hand was still eyeing his sister, with Anna not so slyly taking embarrassing pictures. And then there was Kris.

Kris was engrossed in something, flustered by something on his phone. It was cute, the way that he bit his lip and scrunched his brow. "You know the baseball's up here," he teased, poking his ex-boyfriend on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” Kris sighed, putting his phone down. “Guess I’m a bit distracted is all.”

Ryder huffed, looking back at their friends. “Seems you aren’t the only one. But I think I’m better to help you than them, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” He stretched his back, smiling at the satisfying crack. “Just looking at jobs, but I- I feel conflicted.”

“What over, find something better than baristaing?” Ryder teased lightly. “You’ve been applying for weeks, did you get a hit somewhere?”

“Sort of.” Kris ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking around. “They’re offering me a promotion at Mermaid’s. They want me to be the assistant store manager. They want to train me to run the whole damn thing.”

Ryder couldn’t help but smile. The promotion would mean the world to Kris. He would be able to fix up his car properly and finally have a regular schedule and probably so many other things. “That’s amazing, dude! That’s so exciting! Why are you excited?”

“I- I don’t know,” he said, nervously picking at some grout in the bleacher. “I would have to take some more classes and certification. More food safety and even some management and marketing classes at the community college. But- I don’t know. Weeks ago I was so desperate to get out of there and now they’re offering this position and it feels almost like a betrayal to me? I don’t know it’s stupid,” he shrugged.

“It’s not stupid, man. It’s a big decision. And it’s not one you have to make right now.” He gave Kris a pat on the back, turning to get up. “You know what will make this better?”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” he asked, with that dumb little teasing sound to his voice.

“Nachos,” he said point blank. “I’ll be right back.”

He headed straight down to the small concession stand. He tried to be as fast as possible, but perhaps he was a little too fast when-

“Shit, not again! I’m so so sorry. Are you okay?” A young woman with bright multicolored hair ran into him, sending his food falling. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Let me get you a new one? Please?”

“Um, I’m okay. Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the last of his chips off of his shirt, a bit baffled by what happened. “You don’t have to, it’s not a big deal.” If he was being perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure who had run into who.

“No, no please I insist,” she said, helping to brush off a few crumbs. “I’m Gale,”

“Ryder,” he said, starting back to the stand. He was finally able to get a good look at her- no them. He noticed a pronoun button, pinned proudly on a t-shirt for the middle school. “One of your kids go here? I’ve been around for a while, but I can’t say I recognize you.”

“My nephew,” they said before turning and ordering. “I think he has a crush on one of the girls on the team. He certainly has a sudden interest in baseball, that’s for sure. But who am I to object? I’ve always wanted to share it with him. Glad I finally can.”

Ryder smiled. “That’s sweet. Some of my favorite memories were of my dad taking me and my little sister out to play. Definitely something worth passing-”

“Gale!”

Anna was shouting up from the bleachers. How the hell did Anna know them?

“Hey! How’s my favorite barista?” they laughed as Anna started to come down. “I was just going to text you! What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I get off at 10:30. Pre-closer, so hopefully I’ll be out on time. What’s up?” she said, dusting herself off. “Ryder, this is my friend Gale. I met them at my parkour class.”

Ryder nodded, grabbing the food that was set out. “So this is that Gale? Nice to finally meet you.”

Gale blushed. “Talking about me?” they teased. “Hopefully good things.”

“All good things,” Anna said rolling her eyes. “Like how badass you are, how you always manage to beat me in a race,all sorts of good things.”

They laughed. “Well I’m flattered. Well I was going to text you and ask if you would want to come out with me to Oaken’s tomorrow night? They’re doing a fundraiser for some high school’s GSA. Karaoke and drink profit goes to the school. What do you say?”

“How did a high school manage to run a fundraiser through a gay bar?” she asked with a small laugh. Ryder nodded; he was thinking the same thing.

“I think the owner’s kid goes there,” they shrugged. “Nevermind that, what do you think?”

Anna pondered it for a second. “What do you think, Ryder?”

HIs eyes widened. Was she trying to get them together? What was her goal here? “I mean it sounds like fun. You should go.”

“Think I would be fine bringing some others?” she asked.

Gale nodded enthusiastically. “More the merrier. It’s for a good cause.”

“Perfect! Ryder, you tell Kris and I’ll tell Elsa?” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before running off. “This’ll be fantastic.”

Ryder stood in shock for a second. “Um, sorry about that. Anna has a bit of a habit of-”

“Meddling?” they laughed. “I know. She kept trying to set me up on dates until I told her I was aroace.”

He didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. That’s why Anna was asking what he thought. “I- I’ve never- I’ve never,”

They tossed some of their hair back. “It’s okay. A lot of people don’t understand. Don’t worry.:

“No, no,” he said, putting a hand out as if to catch himself from stumbling over his words. “It’s just- I just realized it myself a couple of months ago. I haven’t met someone- not in real life at least- someone like me.”

Gale smiled. “Well Ryder, I will happily be your first triple-A friend: asexual, aromantic, agender.”

Ryder smiled back at them. “Thanks.”

“Come on, we’ve got some softball to watch.”

---

“Elsa, come on. You are not going to a gay bar in your professor clothes.”

Elsa tilted her head at Honeymaren. “What do you mean? I look good.”

“You look professional,” Maren said, wrapping her arms around her waist. She leaned her head into the crook of Elsa’s neck. “Besides, how am I going to dance with you if you wear that stiff shirt?”

Elsa laughed a little bit as Maren nibbled at her ear with a kiss. “You seem to be doing just fine right now.”

“Mmmmm,” she moaned softly. “Perhaps, but you’ll get hot so quick in that.”

“Oh, you’re worried about me being hot?” Elsa teased, reaching back to touch Maren’s hips. “Then what do you think I should wear, Oh Great Firemistress?”

“You are such a dork,” she said, sneaking one last kiss. Maren searched through her girlfriend’s closet, working past her usual work clothes. “What about this? I’ve never seen you wear it?”

“Never the occasion. A navy sundress isn’t exactly lab attire?”

“Hmmm, well good thing we aren’t going to the lab,” Maren smiled mischievously. “For me?”

“Well,” Elsa smiled, tapping on her chin. “Only if you help me take this off?” she teased.

“Oh, that I can absolutely do.”

---

Kristoff paced nervously in the living room. He hadn’t been out in a while, much less going out with his ex-boyfriend and their group of friends. But this would be fun right?

“How long does it take to get dressed to go out? Elsa is a stickler for time,” Anna sighed sitting down on the ground, her back against the couch.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed, but my sister is also in there with your sister. We could be waiting a while,” Ryder teased, handing her a controller. “Might as well play.”

“Uck-” Anna said, taking the offered controller. “Don’t make me think about the fact our sisters might be boning while we’re home.”

“Hey, I don’t like it either! Why do you think I put on Mario Kart?”

Kristoff smiled. Even after all this time, Ryder made his heart flutter. He shook his head and pushed it aside. He couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t right. “You know we could just go bug them to hurry up?”

“And risk burning my eyes out? Fat chance,” he laughed. “You want in next round, Kris?”

“Sure, I’ll play winner.”

Maybe going out wouldn’t be so bad. He could let loose of it all, be whoever he wanted for a night. It would be good. It had to be.

---

Anna didn’t know what to expect when they arrived, but it certainly wasn’t the dance club they arrived at. She hadn’t heard much about it other than seeing it on the news when it first opened, but Anna hadn’t been much for clubbing when she had first come to the city. It was everything the old Anna would have loved: loud music, a large dance floor, and plenty of people.

She fiddled nervously with the bands on her wrist. She had to admit, the club was pretty clever. There were a set of bands for the gender you identified as and a second set for what you were looking for. It had always been a passive thing, something she and Elsa had talked about, but she never brought it out in public. She had been too vulnerable after Hans to try and deal with it. But wearing the bisexual bracelet made it real, powerful. She could be her true self with no limits.

The music blared an old pop song she couldn’t but dance to. She smiled, letting herself move freely towards the bar where Kristoff was sitting alone. “What are you doing here by yourself?” she asked with a little more gusto than normal. “You’re at a dance club, and you aren’t dancing!”

“I don’t have that kinda rhythm,” he laughed, sipping on his whiskey. “Go, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Now,” she laughed, a bit giddy. “Come on, the song is called “Shut Up and Dance” not “Sit Down and Drink.””

Kristoff shook his head, downing the last of his drink. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe...” she slurred. Her mind did feel a bit foggy, but it was a good fog. A happy fog. A fog she wanted to share with Kristoff. “Come on, please?”

Much to her delight, he joined her in dancing. Neither were particularly good, but they didn’t have to be. She danced against him, her back to his chest and breathing in his scent. Normally the musk of sweat and alcohol would have turned her away, but she found herself wanting to draw closer.

“Having fun?” he asked as her movements slowed. Her limbs were tired, and she just wanted to hold onto his warm embrace.

“The best,” she said, breathless. “The best because you’re here and it’s fun and it’s really really nice.”

She felt his chest shudder, but decided to ignore it. “Best because I’m here?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “I know you’re sad about Ryder still, but you came and are having fun.” Her eyes opened wildly, gaze unfocused. “You are having fun aren’t you? I’m sorry. I’m so awkward. I’ll shut up and-”

“No, no,” he gave a small laugh that made her whole chest feel like it was about ready to burst. “Just not what I thought you would say.”

Her body relaxed again against him. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” she said, her eyes getting tired.

“You wanna sit down for a bit? Have some water?” He was holding onto her hand, leading her off the floor. She nodded slowly, letting him lead her to a chair. “There we go. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Kris. Love you.”

She didn’t watch as he walked away, didn’t notice or care how he reacted. She was happy and warm and a little drunk. Everything else could be taken care of in the morning. But for now, she would live in this one perfect moment.

#frozen #frohana #elsamaren #kristanna #frozen fanfic #my fic #adorable babies are adorable

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period-dramallama · 3 years

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A skim read of jean plaidy’s St Thomas Eve

For @thalassodromid bc this is our Niche

General thoughts on quality (TLDR)

-First off, I should give this book something of a pass because it was written 60+ years ago. Historical research, like science, Marches On.

-I skimmed it because i was not loving the style. There’s very little description, the pacing feels like This Happened And Then This Happened. With this story, you should have a sense of the stakes, the tension. It lacks atmosphere.

-This book really didn’t spark much emotion in me. I was heartwarmed and amused, but never frightened, horrified, fascinated or upset. I felt no panic when Meg got the sweat.

-Honestly i was so bored I started wondering if maybe this is too difficult a story to tell, because i came in loving these historical figures and wanting content. How bored must the unobsessed reader be?

-Show don’t tell, Jean! Don’t tell me everyone’s very upset, show me them upset. Don’t tell me Meg loves Thomas, show their bond. Don’t tell me everyone loves Thomas for his honesty, show me him helping his neighbours.

-To be fair, there’s a lot to get through in 260 pages.

-I just love how historical fiction pulp novels have Book Club questions at the back. It just feels rather cocky, imo. Like you think your book is Deep enough for me to sit and ponder the characters. Like there was a question that was something like: “do you prefer Katherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn” which was kind of hilarious because the whole book it was Poor Loyal Old Ugly Katherine and Six Fingered Anne Boleyn Is A Minx And Wants Thomas More Dead

Pet peeves

-at the beginning of the book, it says “Secretly Henry VII was unbothered by his wife’s death” or something along those lines. Given that Henry VII locked himself away after Elizabeth died and his mum had to step in and rule because he stopped functioning, this left a bitter taste in my mouth. Henry VII in this book is a Mean Evil Miser so of course he can’t love or be loved by a Good Woman.

-John More jnr being described as the family dunce. To be fair, maybe the book came out before we knew he was a translator too, but STILL. Don’t put John down to raise the girls up. He is valid too.

-the language is what my old tutor would call ‘mock Tudor’. I think it was expected at the time that you had to try and make the language authentic- The Blanket of the Dark and the Man on a Donkey both use Tudor language. It really made the dialogue annoying. Lots of ‘tis and ‘twas and it was this close to beshrew me verily and hey fucking nonny nonny. Every time Alice said fuckign ‘Tilly valley’ I went AAAARGGGH. JUST HAVE HER SAY THE WORD ‘NONSENSE’. There’s a happy middle, imo, between too Tudor and too modern, and it’s quite a broad middle, you can move around a lot in it, but there are limits.

-SPEAKING OF ALICE. Her character introduction was so good- first described as ‘an authoritative feminine voice’ *chef’s kiss* she stops a fainting Jane from being trampled at Henry’s coronation, accompanies her home and cares for her while simultaneously lowkey roasting her interior decoration. But then she becomes a bit of a caricature. When Meg gets the sweat she nags her for going near anyone who might have the sweat. The book club questions say ‘there’s more to her than meets the eye’ THEN SHOW ME MORE THAN ONE SIDE OF HER. Also Thomas loves her even though she’s ‘rude and stupid’ but Meg doesn’t understand why. Grr.

-”mistress middleton will hear you [2 year old John] crying and box your ears” NO NO NO NO NO!

-also i get a 1950s Spanking Children Is Good Parenting vibe because Alice hits the Morelings with a slipper if they don’t study, and Tm’s described as too much of “a coward” (literally the word coward is used) to hit his children other than with peacock feathers.

-Utopia being described as an ideal state...it’s really more than that. I don’t like the idea that Meg and Thomas were okay with religious toleration but then Thomas became Consumed With Hate and he says “well religious toleration would be great in an IDEAL state...”

-Meg being horrified by heretic burning. Maybe the evidence of her views wasn’t yet available and so social mores of the 50s meant that writers and historians assumed that Of Course Being a Delicate Woman She Would Have A Natural Desire For Peace And Mercy. Grr.

-Too romancey. To be fair, Jean Plaidy wrote a lot of historical romances so maybe that’s just what she’s comfortable with (and these are historical figures that never get a chance to shine) but between Meg and Will, Clement and Mercy, Joan and Thomas, Giles and Cecily... it’s a bit like Pearl Harbour in that it’s hard to care about the cute romance when men are getting burned alive in the background. A good historical romance is more like Titanic: the lovers are directly connected with the Big Historical Events ongoing. Skip!

-in this book, Mercy thinks to herself that Meg would have Tm sign the oath, but Mercy would prefer tm to do as his conscience dictates...that feels like the wrong way round.

-Erasmus and Thomas More speaking in English...Doubt.jpeg.

-Thomas More muses on how Complex men are because there’s Proud Cold Thomas Howard who is Soft for Simple Launderess Bess Holland...yeah given the multiple colossal power imbalances in that real-life affair, I’d be very surprised if it never strayed into abuse.

-baby Meg is a lil too precocious.

-dying Joan tells Meg to look after her father, no Joan stop I love you but don’t give a six year old responsibility, I don’t care if she’s six but acts eleven, looking after TM is Alice’s job not Meg’s.

-Tm using the phrase ‘our little secret’ with Meg. The context is not abusive, but the phrase is so weighted, it’s like referring to something as “a final solution”: the famous meaning is too horrifying to feel comfortable with that combination of words in any context at all.

-Joan’s younger sister being described as beautiful and flirtatious, and the whole bit about More fancying the younger sister but going for the older out of honour. The book says that More’s fascination with joan’s sister is the reason he realised he couldn’t be a priest. Given Joan’s 16, her sister’s 15 at the oldest, possibly 14. So a 26 year old can’t be a priest because he’s lusting after a 14-15 year old girl who is attractive and who has been flirting with him. Squick.

-also no mention of erasmus at the end of tm’s life. Boo. I think a dude in the tower would think about his BFF of 30+ years who he hasn’t seen for 10+ years

Good bits

-It’s obviously unintentional, but given how the word ‘gay’ has changed, i gave a little cheer every time a character was described as gay. Cecily and John are both gay, Thomas More is very gay, and later in the book wishes he could go back to being gay again. Loving the accidental representation

-”a boy who is not worth the tossing” i have a dirty mind ok

-Joan getting something of a personality! She even feels insecure because she’s a normal person stuck in a family of geniuses.

-George Boleyn is described as being ‘a bright boy’ and later the girls joke that if they meet him they’ll probably fall in love THIS SO REFRESHING. Otoh, Mary Boleyn is slutshamed and Anne is a scheming minx so the double standard does spoil it a little.

-Thomas More makes puns! At one point Alice says “more’s the pity” and then immediately says “don’t you dare make a pun out of that. i know u will. DON’T I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR PUNS” Granted, Plaidy stresses that his wit is never cruel or mocking (Doubt.jpeg) but i think this is maybe the funniest More.

-It acknowledges the heretic burning! Not bad for 1950-something. At the end there’s a sort of Hm Thomas More Is A Complex Dude How Do We Approach Him page from H8′s POV.

-More’s father getting all misty-eyed when his son becomes Chancellor

-Henry VIII kissing tm’s forehead

-the flogging of the mentally ill upskirter being depicted

-Wolsey not being a caricature but a worldly and practical man. He’s explicitly described as “not a bad man”

-”He [TM] was no Erasmus, who, having thrown the stone that shattered the glass of orthodox thought, must run and hide himself lest he should be hurt by the splinters” not a very fair way to depict Erasmus (as he spent a lot of the last decades of his life arguing against Luther and trying to mediate between religious factions, esp in Basel) However, I like the metaphor

-Meg talking about how she and her sisters will always compare men unfavourably to their father... understandable.

-More explaining why Heretic Burning is Good Actually is done well

-Meg pointing out that More and Erasmus both criticised the Church, only it’s a bit half-baked because More never experiences any doubt or crisis over it.

-Meg being torn between the Lutheran and the Catholic men she loves is at least some conflict and stakes when it finally shows up.

-Alice standing trial for dogknapping on page 195. A Big Lipped Alligator Moment, and I’ve no idea the source (i doubt Plaidy would make it up completely, it’s so out of nowhere) but it’s fun. It feels like one of More’s ‘merry tales’

“[Erasmus] read aloud to Thomas when he came home; and sometimes Thomas would sit by his friend’s bed with Margaret on one side of him and Mercy on the other; he would put an arm about them both, and when he laughed and complimented Erasmus so that Erasmus’ pale face was flushed with pleasure, then Margaret believed that there was all the happiness in the world in that room.” my emotions! my emotions! my ship is sailing, i repeat, the ship is sailing!

-”Meg, this is one of the happiest days of my life. it is a day I shall remember on the day i die. i shall say to myself when i find death near me: ‘the great erasmus said that of my daughter, my meg.’”

-”So the King likes verses!” said mistress middleton, her voice softening a little.

“Ah, madam,” said Thomas. “What the King likes today, may we hope Mistress Middleton will like tomorrow?” Do I smell... flirtation...

-”His face was pleasant and kindly, [Alice] concluded....She would like to feed him some of her possets, put a layer of fat on his bones with her butter.” Does this version of Alice have a feeding kink I definitely think, in this ‘verse, Tm and Alice are 100% having sex.

-John Colet’s in it, though described as tm’s confessor (who i think was actually grocyn or linacre)

-Alice clearing a path for a fainting Jane with “Stand aside, you oafs.” alexa, play X gon give it to you.

#historical fiction #warning: very very long post

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 4 years

Text

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 36

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 36

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1329

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 36

“A month away?” Your eyes dart around to meet those of the remaining contestants, before returning to Lady Amara. For confirmation. Because there is no way she actually said what you thought you just heard. “That is...away, away?”

Normally, your modernisms and teen cadence, even faint as they have become over the years, would bring a hint of distaste to Lady Amara’s face. Now, though, she smiles, almost… fondly? “Yes, Lady (Y/N), away away. His Majesty has come to the conclusion that he was ill-advised in disallowing you from leaving the premises, vast as they may be. Balls are excellent practice for socializing in a formal context, but he and I agreed that you would benefit from a chance to practice your royale training outside of the..the…”

“Bubble?” Rosa mutters. You can’t help but snort, in spite of yourself. Lady Amara shoots you both a gently chastising look.

“Protection of the palace. You will be accompanied by guards, of course—”

“Of course.”

This time, the look she gives you is a bit more severe. “However, this will offer you an opportunity to interact with the general public and world leaders, alike.”

There seems to be a general sense of speechlessness among the four of you as the full weight of this news sinks in. You’re leaving the palace. As Lady Amara pointed out, the palace grounds are wicked large, but still, you’re leaving. That being said…

Rhea speaks up, as though she had read your mind. “Where exactly will we be going?”

Lady Amara smiles again. “Home.”

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

You have less than three hours until your transportation leaves for New York, and your suitcase is still empty.

It’s not that you haven’t packed—you did, last night. Six times, to be exact. And every time, without fail, you found yourself dumping the contents of your suitcase back on your bed, on the chaise-lounge, on the ground. Gotta clean that up before I leave, too, or Meg is going to murder me when I get back. Knowing Meg, she probably wouldn’t even mention it, but you’d still feel bad if you left her an entire floor of heavy dresses in need of putting away.

The dresses. They’re part of the problem. You’re expected to pack for several weeks: two at home, one spent visiting the hometowns of the other girls, and one attending various conferences elsewhere around the globe. You’ve grown accustomed to the feel and look of a full corset-and-petticoat getup, but since the announcement was made of your impending departure, you’ve become acutely aware of how out-of-place all of your current clothing would be in your small-ish, very modern, normal town.

Normal. Not that you fit that label, anymore. You pray that you’re wrong, that you’ll be able to slide seamlessly into your former place for two weeks, but you can’t escape what you know in your gut to be true. After two years away, two weeks home seems both heartbreakingly short and impossibly long. You’re going to see Carlie’s growth spurt and new teeth in person, hear Mom and Dad’s voices, see some old friends—the new semester is about to start, but you’re sure you’ll get to at least see Steven after the school day ends. Truth be told, you’re not sure what you’re going to do at home, with your whole family in school (in Erik’s case, away at school) or at work. Lady Amara clearly wants all four of you to practice some diplomacy skills, but there isn’t much conflict in need of resolving in the ultra-suburban landscape of home.

Thinking of suburbia brings you back to the issue at hand: clothes. Should you just wear your least ostentatious clothes, pack nothing, and just raid your old closet when you get home until you have a chance to go shopping for clothes that fit? That seems silly, though. You can’t go with suitcases full of presents and food and no clothes—completely impractical.

And, if you’re being honest, you would almost miss the corset and underskirts.

Almost.

Three taps at the open door. “You do realize it is three in the morning?”

“Shit.” By the time you’ve whirled around, you’re expecting to see him there, but your heart is still pounding from the initial surprise. “Sorry. I’ve been up a while.”

“Clearly.” He nods at the heaps of velvet and lace strewn across your floor. “Any particular reason why you felt the need to eviscerate your wardrobe?”

You sigh. “Sorry.” He isn’t wrong in pointing it out. If anything, you’re grateful for the reminder—at your current pace, you might as well start cleaning up the mess now. You pick up the closest gown, fluff out the skirt, and cross to hang it up to the closet. You notice him following suite, and while half of you is wondering, a bit grumpily, why he can’t just snap his fingers and whoosh them back to your closet in an instant, the other half is relieved. After all, more hands makes the work move more quickly. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

You work silently for a while, hanging things side-by-side, in your best approximation of the color-coding system Meg seems to use when she cleans. When the task is finally finished, you trudge back into the main room and climb up into your bed, but instead of lying down, you remain perched on the edge, head hanging.

“I cannot tell if you’re simply exhausted, or if you’re truly that reluctant to go home.”

When you don’t answer, he walks over and, with a tilt of his head, seems to ask if he can sit down next to you. You nod, and he does.

“Going home can be difficult, especially after what must feel like a rather long time.”

“Yeah.” You wish you had a less lackluster answer, but the one word feels like all you can muster, in spite of the emotions that are threatening to overflow. You don’t want him to leave, though. The thought of going to sleep, of every second closer you’re getting to your departure time, seems near unbearable.

You voice none of this, but he seems to understand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“I’m terrified.” It escapes in a whisper, spoken into the dim, candlelit air in front of you, not to him. In your peripheral vision, though, you see that he is looking directly at you.

This is dangerous. Middle-of-the-night conversations are different than talking during the day, different than evening strolls and other quasi-dates, even different than teaming up to defeat a small squadron of murderous, shapeshifting intruders. More intimate. The lack of sleep has left you loose-lipped and overemotional, and there’s no telling what hidden secrets you may spontaneously confess—to Loki or to yourself. Either option is scary.

But he’s here. And he’s listening. And he cares.

On impulse, you spin yourself around and arrange yourself in a cross-legged position, facing him straight on. “I don’t know how to do this. How to go home after so long.” After having them circle your head for hours, it is such a relief to speak the words out loud. “I’m not the same person I was when I left, and I don’t...I just…”

He doesn’t interrupt, he just nods gently, prompting. Encouraging. The gesture, however tiny, gives you the courage you need to say what comes next:

“It feels like there are days where I don’t even recognize the person I used to be. If I don’t even know myself anymore, how is my family going to seem? How will I recognize them?” ” And then, even more quietly, “What if they can’t recognize me?”

“I hardly think your physical appearance has changed that drastically.”

It’s exactly the kind of smart-ass comment you would have expected from him, even this late/early, and it’s exactly the kind of thing you needed to hear. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

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

From then until the sun has risen, he never leaves your side.

#loki #loki/reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 5 years

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Little Talks and Mishaps [Epilogue]

Plot: AU Your neighbor summoned a demon as a dare, except he somehow overshot things and landed in your apartment. (Despite the lack of a pentagram.) He keeps showing up and oddly, he makes it a point to stop by after he’s done with her.

Rating: R (Language, implied sex, flirting, innuendos, incubus mythology)

Characters: Incubus!RM x Female Reader, Meg OC, plus mention of other members.

Notes: I am not an expert on demonology. This was based off a comical dream I had about someone accidentally ending up in my apartment when in reality they were looking for someone else. (The figure in the dream wasn’t a demon per se but a rookie individual that wasn’t human who appeared in places without using the front door.) This a different universe from the one with Incubus!Jungkook – different complex, neighbor, and scenario. Some of the rules from the mythology I wrote in JJK’s series will appear here.

"I’m so sorry for double booking!”

“Just go, you’re making the poor guy wait!” you insisted, cradling the phone between your ear and shoulder.

You strained your ears and heard hangers shuffling around in the closet, then drawers being opened.

“Tie or no tie?” Taehyung asked.

“No tie – unless it’s a formal place you’re wining and dining him,” you advised.

“He said it’s nicer than a quick service, but it’s not super bougie,” the young man replied.

“Okay, nix the tie,” you concluded. “Enjoy and be safe.”

“I owe you one,” Taehyung promised before hanging up.

You plugged your phone to your charger once the call ended and you stretched your arms. It had been a long, taxing day at work with non-stop meetings, sending several e-mails, and a handful of calls to outside partners. Taehyung accidentally double booking you with his new beau was saving grace for you. As much as you enjoyed his company, tonight you needed time for yourself.

You opened up your app for a food service delivery and scrolled through your options, trying to decide what to eat tonight. Your eyes lingered on the section containing weekly specials and you clicked to see it was Korean food this week. A small smile crossed your lips as you recalled the first Korean meal the tall, handsome incubus brought you after a long day at work.

Your finger scrolled through the restaurants and located the exact one he brought you bulgogi and pork belly from. Making up your mind, you added both meats, plus a side of japchae, to your cart and submitted the request.

Thirty minutes passed before you heard a knock at the door. You looked up from checking the TV Guide for shows and movies to watch and walked to the door.

You did a double take when you saw a familiar face outside the door, holding bags of food and a rolled rug under one arm.

For a moment you stepped away from the peephole, shaking your head. No, it was just your imagination. Namjoon wasn’t really outside your door at this hour with food and a rug, right?

The knock came again and you took a deep breath before unlocking the door and slowly opening it.

“You called for delivery?” Namjoon said as he hoisted the bags. “That also comes with a very overdue, complimentary rug.”

You snickered at the last part and beckoned him inside. “You delivering food on the side now?”

Namjoon shook his head and carried the bags to the counter. He shifted the rug to his other arm and prompted you to tell him where it needed to go. You took it and placed it in your room, propping it against the wall.

“I’ll deal with it later – thank you,” you told him. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“One of my colleagues does food delivery, but he has a commitment tonight,” Namjoon explained.

“Why did he take it? I mean, someone else could have said they’d do it,” you murmured.

Namjoon shook his head as he unpacked the food from the bags, lining the boxes up neatly on the counter. “He likes to take as many deliveries as possible because it means more money and more chances he might get lucky. He looks cute at first, but he’s capable of switching to sexy in seconds. I think he thought he could squeeze this one in before his commitment, but he forgot that he booked it too close. So I told him I’d do it, since I already know you. I don’t get to keep any of the money though.”

“Not even a bit of the tip?”

“I’m pretty sure he’d be upset if I took a cent,” Namjoon sighed. “Well, whatever – it’s his fault for trying to do too much at once.”

You walked over to the kitchen and took a seat at the counter, gesturing to the boxes holding bulgogi, pork belly, and japchae. “Well I tipped in the app already, but as a consolation, please hang out and eat with me? I do have some of that honey sesame cheesecake you tried when we first met.”

Namjoon paused, meeting your eyes. “You sure?”

You nodded and encouraged him to serve himself some food, pointing to the cabinet where the plates were kept. He retrieved two and passed a plate over to you, prompting you to serve yourself first.

“I don’t know what you did, but I’m really glad Meg’s gone,” you said as you wiped your mouth.

“I’m glad things are going better here for everyone,” he said. He pushed around a small piece of bulgogi with his chopsticks before picking it up. “Still single, huh?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I don’t smell another male or female on you,” he commented. “Although you look tired. Everything going well at work?”

“Just busy,” you confessed. “I needed a night to myself, so I’m glad my friend accidentally double booked.”

“Good, glad you’re taking time for yourself,” he replied. He held out the piece of beef with a smile and you snorted.

“Still have that feeding kink I see.”

“It’s...hey! It’s not a kink!” he protested, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I like taking care of people!”

“Sure,” you teased. You took your plate to the sink and rinsed it, before adding it to the dishwasher.

Namjoon ate the bulgogi and brought his plate over, while you retrieved the cheesecake from the fridge.

“You want a slice?” you asked as you glanced over your shoulder.

“Only if I can share it with you.”

“How’s your real world experience going?” you asked.

Namjoon cut a piece off the slice and shared that he was doing well. He hadn’t done too much hooking up with humans since dealing with Meg, partly due to the fact that he had to file paperwork on the incident with the council.

“I didn’t get in trouble,” he reassured you. He stabbed the piece onto his fork, placing it in his mouth. He swallowed slowly and explained that Meg’s repeat requests were a rare case, which meant the council had to have records on file, especially since she was revealed to be a problematic case.

“We don’t get a lot of humans asking for the same demon,” he explained. “It was kind of nice to get a break from your world, but I don’t miss the paperwork. It took forever.” He stabbed another piece and held it to your lips.

“Did you feed Meg too or is it just me that gets fed?” you joked.

Namjoon shot you a look and you parted your lips to let the fork enter. The taste of honey, sesame, and soft cream cheese hit your tongue and you chewed slowly before swallowing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon’s thumb coming toward your lips, then swipe at the corner to remove a small bit of the cheesecake.

You watched as his tongue flicked out to eat the bit of cheesecake off his thumb, eyes widening when you noticed how long it was. Honestly, you didn’t know much about incubi and their physical traits, other than they fed off sexual activity and whatnot. But after seeing his tongue, you couldn’t help but wonder how useful it probably was for oral.

“Y/N, you’re thinking about something naughty,” he teased when he studied your face. “Care to share?”

You coughed, trying to look away. He laughed warmly, amused by your sudden shyness.

“The tongue always catches humans off guard,” he noted with a faint smirk.

You nodded and rubbed the back of your neck, muttering that you didn’t expect him to have that.

“Maybe a big dick but – oh shit, I said that out loud!” you blurted out, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The incubus blushed slightly at the comment and he tilted his head, trying to get you to look at him. After a few moments, he slowly reached a hand out, resting it on top of yours.

Your eyes fell on the long fingers, a few adorned with heavy looking rings. Maybe it had been too long since you got laid – normally you could keep yourself in control, but tonight, it seemed hard to ignore them when you were being fed by a handsome demon.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I promise I’m not this thirsty.”

“It’s been a while, huh?”

"Yeah...actually I can’t remember the last time I took care of myself,” you confessed. You bit your tongue, trying to stop yourself from saying more.

Namjoon’s hand slowly massaged yours, his thumb circling your skin. “Well...if you would like help, I’m happy to assist in any way. We don’t have to go all the way and I’m not accepting a deal for this.”

You looked up at him as a thought crossed your mind. “Wait, when was the last time you fed?”

Namjoon sank his teeth into his bottom lip and thought about it for a moment. “Honestly? I think a couple of months – Meg might have been the last. I’ve been consuming a substitute food to hold myself over. It’s not great, but I wanted to get the damn paperwork completed right away.”

You turned to face him in your seat and met his eyes. “Would I taste any better than the fake stuff?”

His eyes widened and he blinked. His tongue poked out between his lips and his eyes flashed a brighter color of amber.

“Oh definitely.”

#BTS RM #BTS AU #BTS RM AU #BTS incubus AU #incubus AU #tw: incubus #tw: innuedos #tw: implied sex #18+#yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2703

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kotolocke · 5 years

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Entry #03: Violet City.

Get ready boys, this is where the serious battling starts. And it starts with a big tower dedicated to a living vine. I love Pokemon. We’re gonna cover Lyra’s adventures in Sprout Tower, Route 32 and Violet Gym. But first—

—apparently Falkner gets some guy to stop people who haven’t beaten the monks at Sprout Tower? Violet City seems hella interconnected so expect a world-building post on that soon. Regardless, on with the show!

Sprout Tower.

Okay, first off, this place is so interesting? I always forget about it but seeing as this is a place Lyra visits early on in her journey it’s pretty significant in shaping her ideas of what being a trainer is all about.

She’s taking part in an ancient tradition, and she needs to honour it by making sure she trains her Pokemon in such a way that is respectful to them and the Pokemon handlers of the past. She also kicks these monks asses very hard. Who’s the training master now?

Of course, we’re in a new area so we’ve got a chance to get a new friend, so meet Plum!

I really need to stop forgetting to take snaps of Pokemon in battle smh. I may have cheated a little and waited until night to go into the tower so I had a shot at getting Lyra something other than a Rattata and as you can see it payed off! Back to Plum though, he’s a pretty dower Pokemon. Ghost-types tend to come in two flavours; extremely silly and playful, messing about with other Pokemon and people for their own amusement or serious and weary of others, sometimes even vengeful—people tend to be scared of them and this sometimes leaves them feeling bitter and lonely. Plum’s a mild version of the second variety, he’s sombre and baleful, preferring to wear opponents down with status moves rather than go on a full out offensive. He’s a little weary of Lyra and her party when he’s first captured but he also appreciates the fact he’s finally in company that’s obliged to be nice to him. Small mercies.

I’m not gonna cover the rest of the randos in the tower because they and their dialogue belong in a world-building post, so let’s climb on up to the top...

...Where Lyra has her second encounter with Silver. Or half encounter? Can it really be considered an encounter if it’s not clear if they saw each-other? They did in blog canon anyway, Lyra insisted he must have cheated because there’s no way a mean, useless trainer like him could have defeated a great sage, Silver told her to shut up because weak trainers and their puny Pokemon have no business judging others. Which causes the Elder to level this choice criticism @ Silver:

Which, ofc, pisses Silv right off.

So just to reiterate, early-game Silver’s an asshole, but this whole exchange kinda makes me wonder how uncommon Silver’s attitude towards Pokemon is? I’ll probably write a more in-depth world-building post about it later but as much as the games try to emphasise this ‘you should love your Pokemon!’ attitude, I don’t think many trainers really love their Pokemon with the same intensity I see Lyra loving hers? I mean HGSS in particular have a plot-line about how it’s actually not good to make Pokemon evolve before they’re ready but plenty of Gym Leaders and E4 members have Pokemon that are too low of a level to be at the evolutionary stage they are. I think Silver’s a very extreme trainer and very few people are as callous as he is towards his Pokemon, but. The Elder is absolutely in the minority of people who don’t think of Pokemon as “tools of war”—most treat their Pokemon decently, with respect, but they are primarily seen as living weapons that require a firm hand. Pokemon were once seen as enemies of man in feudal times and most people still don’t feel as friendly towards them as they would other humans.

Anyway, enough world-building, let’s talk about Lyra’s battle with the Elder.

If you couldn’t tell, this Hoothoot was legitimately the first Pokemon that gave me any trouble and I actually got kinda scared Nutmeg was gonna faint but ultimately it didn’t take too long to defeat him. In blog cannon this fight probably makes Lyra realise that she’s gonna have to get a little more serious about battling if she wants to make it as a trainer. She’s good at training Pokemon to unleash cool little tricks and strategies in battle but I think at this point in her journey she sometimes keeps Pokemon out for longer than she should ‘cause she wants to show off a cool trick she came up with. And, well,

seems to have worked on the Elder; he clearly likes her stuff!

Route 32.

Before Lyra goes ahead and does battle Falkner, she’s gotta get a little extra training in. Though the message still hasn’t quite sunk in, the battle with the Elder makes her realise she should probably try to toughen her Pokemon up a little should they get stuck in a tight spot again.

Now behold our potential new teammate from this area, a Bellsprout!

Unfortunately, Cabbage hit her with a crit Razor Leaf and she fainted in game. In blog canon she just ran off into the treeline and Lyra decided it would just be kinda cruel to pursue her. Hopefully she can just synthesise the damage off.

Now, it’s time for a t-t-t-t-training montage! A couple of cool things happen whilst Lyra’s training in this area. First up and probably most important—

—Pod evolves! At this point Lyra’s been on the road for around a week and a half so his pupation time is up and he’s finally a beautiful Butterfree! He’s very eager to try out some of the techniques Lyra, Cabbage & Nutmeg have practised; he can fly but he’s not got claws like Meg has so he relies on a combination of spores and powders (like Cabb) and special moves. Lyra earns Pod’s eternal love by basically letting him go ham on a bunch of wild Bellsprouts and scaring them off with a Confusion he lets loose while flying around in high-speed circles. Lyra did feel bad about that later but in the moment she was just happy to see her little man so excited.

Best!! Friends!!

Another member of the team starts to grow closer to Lyra at this point too; the newly caught Plum!

As previously mentioned, he starts off pretty gloomy and he kinda struggles to keep eye-contact with Lyra because he’s a little shy. He’s also not used to being out in sunlight; it doesn’t hurt him or anything but it takes a while for his eyes to adjust to it. But as soon as he realises Lyra’s highkey fascinated by him—Ghost-types are amongst the most poorly understood Pokemon and thus she hasn’t been able to read up on them much—and genuinely wants to work out how to put his weird ghostly powers to best use, he gets attached to her really quickly. He’s just never had anyone be so vocally supportive of him before! And all the rest of her Pokemon are so nice to him too??

Plum loves his new trainer so much!!

Violet Gym.

It’s time baby.

Hell.

Yeah.

There’s not too much to say about the trainers leading up to Falkner. They were pretty easy and one of them comments on the fact that Lyra’s mad strong. My headcanon that the protags are prodigies isn’t a headcanon lads, it’s just Facts.

See? Anyway the dojo-esque vibes in this Gym kinda made me wonder; are Gym’s called gyms because the trainers under the leader train their Pokemon there? Are they kinda like advanced Pokemon schools? Obviously the trainers have to be at least decent to be able to act as a leader’s gatekeeper but they’re probably there primarily to train under them. It’s definitely a topic for a worldbuilding post. Anyway that’s not important right now, what’s important right now is—

—Falkner.

Lyra had no trouble dealing with his first Pokemon, a level 9 Pidgey didn’t face up well against Lyra’s team of level 11s. Blog-wise, Scritches dealt with it very quickly by using a Quick Attack aimed at the ground to knock it out of the air.

But the level 13 (under-leveled!) Pidgeotto that followed was an absolute menace. It was absolutely the bulkiest Pokemon Lyra had battled against so far and that combined with it’s Roost move made it incredibly difficult for her Pokemon to get any damage on it.

completely

rased

her

team.

As the fight progressed, Lyra began to cotton on to the fact that there was something not quite right about this Pidgeotto. After a Pokedex scan revealed it’s odd level, she began to suspect that this wasn’t a Pokemon that Falkner trained himself. It took a highly skilled trainer to get a Pokemon to evolve and unorthodox (and sometimes cruel) methods to get a Pokemon to evolve before it’s reached a level of power that it normally would need to do so. And Gym leader Falkner might be, but highly experienced trainer he is not.

By the time her last Pokemon went down, Lyra was fuming mad and extremely anxious. She rushed back to the Pokecentre and spent the next six hours flying between panic attacks as she hoped and prayed her Pokemon would pull through and utter rage at the fact that a league official would use a Pokemon that they had not only not trained themselves but also potentially abused. When her Pokemon were finally stabilised and returned to her she was still pacing around the Pokecentre for an hour after, trying to work out how best to tackle Falkner in a rematch.

Eventually she decided that she had focused too intensely on raw attack power. If she was going to deal with a trainer who made use of some underhanded training techniques then it was only logical that she would have to get him back with some nasty tricks of her own. She and Plum were going to need to spend a little extra time training together, and I’ll be going into the details of it in the next entry.

#kotolocke.

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unrefinedtales · 6 years

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tomione // madness

part 1, part 2, and part 3

Isn’t it fun when an idea takes over your life?

THE NIGHT WATCHMAN ~ PART FOUR

“Baby, I wanna touch you I wanna breathe into your will See, I gotta hunt you I gotta to bring you to my hell Honey, I wanna break you I wanna throw you to the hounds Yeah, I gotta hurt you I gotta hear it from your mouth” -Desire, Meg Myers

There was no secret garden in my room this time. My bed was warm, and slumber found me quickly. In the morning I lay awake for some time, letting the sunlight creep in on my bare skin from the half-shuttered window. For the first time in over a year, I tamed my hair into a braid and hunted up a washing basin to clean my clothes.

“I’m here forever,” I said agreeably to the room at large as I let soap run down my body. “I don’t forget it. No, indeed not.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed them to fight off the sting of the soap. When I opened them, I could have sworn I saw a shadow dart past my doorway. I ran for the corridor, snatching a towel on the way, and bent over the banister overlooking the entrance hall. There was no one in sight. If this was a trick of Tom’s, it was rather a lame one.

Dressed and feeling refreshed, I wandered down to the kitchen. The smell of rising bread had me salivating halfway down the stairs. I had never really appreciated simple pleasures when I was alive. A cup of coffee and a slice of fresh bread. A beam of sunlight peeking through the clouds.

Tom was in the kitchen. His eyes slid over my new attire, narrowed.

“Good morning,” he said formally. I had to admit that, for him, this was probably a grandiose effort.

“Eggs?” I asked, hunting through the pantry for a skillet.

He disregarded me. “How did you die?”

“Oh, Tom. I told you. There is no way out of here. I wish you’d leave me out of it.”

He took the skillet from my hand and cracked an egg against the edge.

“Sit,” he said.

I sat.

“Jean. I haven’t had to ask for something twice very often. I’d like to know, please, if you would. How did you die?”

“I died alone in a ravine, of a silly accident. Nothing to get excited about.”

He frowned. “But you said you were like me. You were special. How could you let that happen?”

My egg hissed in the skillet. I thought about an answer that would satisfy him, but discarded it.

“I had good friends who I would have died for, and who would have died for me. My parents loved me, I’m sure. I wasn’t walking around, day after day, on my guard in case death was around the corner. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Were you married?”

“Engaged. Not married yet.”

“You were engaged, yet it didn’t come up when you described your life just now. You spoke about your friends, your family, foremost.”

“I was engaged to my best friend,” I said, annoyed.

“Curiously lukewarm endorsements. You’re sure your parents must have loved you. Your fiancé was a good friend.” He scooped the egg up and deposited it on my plate. “We’re here because we’re something alike. I see that now.”

“I strongly doubt we were ever anything alike,” I said, not caring if I insulted him.

“Did you love him?” Tom asked, unaffected.

“Of course, I loved him. Very much.” This, I knew, was absolutely true. It had been a sandbox love, growing and blossoming over a period of many years. By the time I was grown I could not remember a version of myself that did not love him in some way.

Tom frowned. “Well, how was that?”

“How was it to love someone?” I said, incredulous. He nodded. “It was… very nice.”

I wanted to kick myself as soon as I said it. I had started the day so optimistic about my progress towards equanimity, sure nothing Tom did could ruffle me. It had taken him all of five minutes to undo my sense of calm. Why couldn’t I have summoned an eloquent treatise on the transformative power of love?

I thought of my mother’s smile, her hand on mine. The only thing worse than being ignorant or unkind is being dishonest.

“Very nice,” Tom repeated, as if trying the words out on his tongue. Then he smiled. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, how did you die?” I asked, crossing over from annoyance to outright anger.

“We are on the subject of you, Jean,” he replied. “And there’s a great deal more I want to know.”

He followed me throughout most of the day. Even more irritating was the way he made himself more a help than a nuisance. When I read, he watched quietly and placed at my side books that I found a source of fascination once I opened them. When I tidied, he made himself scarce or handed me items before I could ask for them. When I ate, he ate at my side in companionable silence. The questions he volleyed at me at long intervals were, if invasive, certainly insightful.

“Had you lived longer, what would have been your life’s purpose?” he asked me in the late afternoon. We were back in the library. The torches illuminating the entranceway had been lit, but the fire was down to embers. Everything within had a bloody hue, including the leather-bound books lining the tall shelves. I felt as though I was at the bottom of a womb-like elevator shaft. I felt calm again, as I had when first waking up that morning.

I had to pause again to think through my answer. I saw no harm in engaging. It was perhaps enabling his delusion to humor all these questions, but it was also better than solitude. Always better than solitude.

“To raise a happy family,” I said. “To be kind to those around me. To learn as much as I could. To make a difference.”

“Do you rehearse those answers before going to sleep at night?”

“I’m being honest. Why would I bother to lie to you? You never even knew me.”

“What sort of difference did you hope to make?”

“I hoped to make life better for others who didn’t have the advantages I had.”

“And this made you happy? Give me an example, Jean. One example.”

“Well, a career in government, or in civil defense, would have suited me. I was just starting out, but those would have been my top choices.”

We had both moved forward to the edge of our armchairs as we spoke. Our knees were almost, but not quite touching. I thought suddenly of the night I had first put on my engagement ring. The proposal had taken place outdoors, on the beach outside the family cottage. I had looked at the man in front of me, his face glowing with anticipation, and felt… what had I felt? Happiness? Affection? A sense that this was the appropriate step at that stage of my life?

I had felt the waves lapping at my feet. The thing I remembered most clearly from that moment was the cold kiss of ocean water against my bare feet as I slid the ring on my finger.

Was this place erasing my memories, or was it allowing me to see what I had been unwilling to see at the time?

“I don’t understand,” Tom said, bringing me back to the present.

“Neither do I. What are these questions meant to accomplish? Nothing about my life will help you unlock those doors out there.”

“I’m trying to zero in more closely on the commonality between us. The thing we have to either harness or conquer in order to get out. Death likes games, and above all, an impossible wager.”

I felt a faint stirring of something in the back of my mind, something I had not felt since throwing myself down the grand staircase. It was hope. There was something not entirely ridiculous about Tom’s plan. I had stuffed hope forcefully into the bottommost drawer of my consciousness long ago, never to be needed again. I shoved it away again now, panicked.

“The point of an impossible wager,” I said harshly, “is that it’s impossible. You can’t win.”

Tom sat back in his armchair, crossing his arms behind his head. The sicker I felt, the more at ease he looked.

“Well, you see,” he said, “I never lose.”

The last of the embers broke, flickering for a moment and plunging the room into shadows. And Tom’s face changed. It was almost too quick to be sure. But I saw it vividly: the face of an old man, sunken in age lines and mad with power. A face impossibly changed by evil deeds. I pulled back as if burned.

“I tried to find your room full of television screens,” he told me, oblivious to my horror. Already his face had gone back to normal. It might never have changed at all. “I searched all night. It simply wasn’t there when I walked through the door where it had been before. I imagine that room is meant only for you, and you’re its keeper.”

“If you want another glimpse of the outside world, you can just ask,” I said. My voice was not quite level. I thought that maybe he was so accustomed to inspiring fear that he had not noticed the change.

“Your corner of the world has little appeal for me. You look pale, Jean. You should rest.”

I did not need telling twice. Tom stayed behind, gazing into the fading embers. I ran for the stairs, but once I had reached the landing above I didn’t return to my bedroom. Instead I darted into my watching room, into the comfort of the cool blue light. I closed the door and rested my back against the wood, sliding down to the floor. He could not find me in here. He had said so himself.

The screen directly opposite me caught my eye. There he was, the man I’d pledged my life to. With one change. He had taken off his ring. I had not seen him without it since the room had first appeared, even when he was with someone new. Now his hand was bare. Two years after my death. Who could blame him?

I heard Tom’s voice in my head.

You have nightmares too.

#tomione

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bamby0304 · 6 years

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The Hart II: Highway

Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best… hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?

Bamby’s Masterlist The Hart Masterlist The Hart II: Highway Masterlist

Part One: Two Weeks

Warnings: Nothing much

So, I know in the show it's only been five days since the end of the last season and the beginning of this one, but I made it two weeks instead. Just to add a little more time since Liz left the guys. Thought I'd let you know :):)

Bamby

SPOV

I sat in the front seat of the Impala, going through yet another book on lore centred around deals with demons and such. As tiresome as it was becoming, I was determined not to give up. I would save Dean, if it was the last thing I did.

Loud music turned on from inside the hotel room the Impala was parked in front of. You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet by Bachman Turner Overdrive.

Looking up, I found myself staring at Dean in the open window as he lifted both hands to give me two thumbs up, and an excited grin. With a nod and a smile from me, he closed the curtains to the window. But I could still see his shadow, which was now accompanied by the shadow of one of the two women he had in the room with him.

Chuckling, I shook my head and turned back to the book a moment before my phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Bobby."

"What are you doing?"

"You know, same old, same old."

"You buried in that book again? Sam, you wanna break Dean free of that demon deal you ain't gonna find the answer in no book."

"Then where, Bobby?"

"Kid, I wish I knew," he sighed. "So, where's your brother?"

Right on cue, I could hear Dean laughing inside the hotel room, just as his shadow disappeared.

"Polling the electorate."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"You boys better pack it up. I think I finally found something."

I knocked on the door to the hotel room, knowing perfectly well what I might be walking in to. But after talking to Bobby, and getting all the details from him, I waited a little while longer before coming to get Dean. I'd hoped the wait would give him and the women time to finish what they were doing so I wouldn't be walking into anything I didn't want to see.

"Dean?" I slowly and carefully began to open the door when there'd been no answer. "Dean, you conscious? Bobby called and he things that maybe we-" I poked my head into the room and made the mistake of looking towards the bed. There, in a tangle of limbs, was my brother and the two women, still very busy. "Oh, God!" I ducked out of the room as fast as possible, now scarred for life.

DPOV

I couldn't wipe the grin of my face. Time may be coming to an end for me, but I was enjoying the ride down.

"Let me see your knife," Sam spoke from beside me in Baby.

I looked to him for a moment before turning back to the road as I drove. "What for?"

"So I can gouge my eyes out," he answered.

I laughed. "It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam."

"It's a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean," he countered.

"I appreciate you giving me quality time with the Double Mint Twins."

Two weeks had passed since the gates of hell had opened. Two weeks since we'd been trying to find any signs of demonic possession seeing as we let out an army that night. But it had been two weeks of nothing.

So, I'd decided to let loose a little and enjoy the time I had left. Hence the twins.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, no problem."

"Really?" I was a little surprised. "I gotta say, I was expecting a weary sigh or an eye roll. Something."

"No, not at all. You deserve to have a little fun."

"Well, I'm in violent agreement with you there." I laughed again, feeling pretty good. "What's Bobby got?"

"Not much. Crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Now, it could be demonic omens-"

"Or it could just be a bad crop and bug problem," I finished.

"Yeah, but it's our only lead."

"Any freaky deaths?"

"Nothing Bobby could find. Not yet anyway."

"It's weird, man." I shook my head, not feeling right about the situation. "I mean, the night the Devil's Gate opened, storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen." I nodded. "You'd think it'd be Apocalypse Now. It's been two weeks and bupkes. What are the demons waiting for?"

"Beats me."

"It's driving me crazy. I tell you, if there's gonna be a war, I wish it'd just start already."

"I don't know, man. Careful what you wish for."

The place Bobby wanted to meet at was a farm just outside of Nebraska. Driving up the dirt road, we could see him already waiting, leaning against his car outside of the farm house, hands in his pockets.

As I stopped the car and we got out, Sam spoke, "You hear those cicadas?" They were everywhere…

"Well, that can't be a good sign," I noted, closing my door.

"No," he agreed as we started to walk. "No, it can't."

Bobby pushed off his car, looking to me. "So, we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?"

"Well, sold my soul." I shrugged, mouth full of food. "Got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol."

"So, Bobby, what do you think?" Sam started, getting to business. "We got a biblical plague here or what?"

Before Bobby could answer, the sound of a car had us all turn. We watched as the vehicle headed our way, a little faster than necessary, a cloud of dust behind it. When it came to a stop, it left marks on the road at the sudden brake. Once the dust and dirt settled we could see the car. It was a dark cherry red 1969 Chevy Camaro, and it was beautiful.

The door opened. The first thing we saw was a black boot landing on the ground, followed by tight dark jeans on long legs. A thin, loose white tank, deep red leather jacket, dark glasses and long golden hair that was pulled back and up.

Elizabeth Rose Hart.

She looked no different since the last time we saw her, yet she seemed more gorgeous than ever before, and equally as dangerous.

Neither Sam or I hadn't seen her during the two weeks that had passed. Sure, we'd been separated a lot longer than that when she wasn't well, but we'd still talked. We still knew where she was. We could have gone and checked up on her back then. Now? Now things were different.

Sam had called Bobby one day to see how she was doing. It was about two days after everything that had happened at the Devil's Gate. Both of us knew she was going to need some time, she'd been pretty upset that night. I wasn't a hundred percent sure why, but I got the message anyway. What Bobby told him hadn't sat right with either of us. Liz had left his place the day after everything. She'd borrowed one of the cars from his yard, and just left.

Before joining Sam and me, she used to come and go as she pleased. But she would still check in. Whether it be with Bobby, Jo, Ellen or Ash, someone knew where she was and what she was doing. This time, though, no one had seen or heard from her in two weeks, and we were all a little worried.

"'Bout time you got here." Bobby gave her a pointed look.

"Bobby. Winchesters." She nodded to each of us as she headed up the stairs of the porch. "I came by earlier, checked the place out-"

"By yourself?" I didn't like the sound of that. I didn't like her hunting on her own. Especially with all the demons out there, and the fact that she was like Sam.

After we'd all separated that night, Sam had explained a few things. He told me the truth about Liz. How when Meg possessed him she forced Liz to drink her blood, which triggered her abilities that had been dormant. He didn't tell me why her abilities hadn't shown up like everyone else's, though. But he did tell me how she saved him from Madison, the werewolf, and how she'd kept Jake back to try and save her and Sam.

If you had told me a couple of years ago that my brother and one of my closest friends had special powers... I would have freaked out. But that wasn't the case anymore. They were two of the most important people in my life.

"Yes," she answered coldly. Lifting her hand, she opened the front door to the house without touching it. "I'm perfectly capable on my own."

We stepped into the house, and I almost doubled over the moment I was hit with a smell like nothing I'd ever experienced before. "That can't be a good sign," I noted, pulling out my gun as Bobby and Sam did the same thing.

"It's not." Liz didn't even look at us as she walked through the house.

We were right behind her, looking around, making sure everything was safe and secure. But she didn't seem to care. She just walked through like it was her own home. As if she were certain nothing had changed or come here since the last time she was here.

The door in front of her opened on its own. Well, we all knew it didn't open on its own. She opened it. Just like she had with the front door. Only, she hadn't lifted her hand this time. She'd just looked at the door and it did as she wanted.

She's getting stronger, better at control. I wasn't too sure if that was a good or bad thing.

It seemed Bobby had the same reservations as I did. "Lizzie, do you think you should be doing that?" he asked her.

"You mean should I be using the ability I was given by a demon?" She shrugged. "If I start murdering people and worshipping Satan, then I give you permission to shoot me."

The smell was worse in this room, more intense. If I hadn't been so preoccupied thinking about Liz, I would have heard the faint screaming before coming from the TV.

We were in a small living room, three people seated on the couch. At least they used to be people. They were quite clearly dead. By the looks of them, they would have been dead for some time.

"Oh, my God," Sam groaned, his face turned up in disgust at the smell. "What the hell happened here?"

"I don't know. I just found them like this." Liz shrugged. "I've checked for sulphur, there's nothing. Bedrooms are in order, kitchen is stocked, there aren't any signs of a break in or attack. I've got nothing." Her tone made it seem as if she were both impressed, confused and annoyed by the anomaly.

The sound of the something wooden creaking outside had all of us tense and shut up.

I gestured to Bobby and Sam, telling them to go one way, while Liz and I would go the other. She didn't look very happy about that, but we didn't have time to argue. Pulling her gun out of the back of her pants, she gave me a nod before we started for the back door, heading out, while Sam and Bobby headed around to the front door.

Stepping out first, I was careful and quiet. Walking on to the porch, I moved to the railing and looked out to see if I could spot anyone or anything. When I found nothing, I turned and began to move further down the porch.

Before I knew what was happening I was hit in the back with something, and then pushed to the ground.

Looking up, I found a man and a woman glaring down at me, the man aiming his shotgun at my face. But they both froze at the sound of a gun cocking as Liz stood behind them.

"Tammy, tell your husband to lower his gun."

The woman stiffly turned to Liz, surprise on her face. "Elizabeth?" She has a heavy British accent.

"Issac? Tamara?" Bobby spoke as he and Sam finally came around the corner.

"Bobby?" Tamara looked from Liz to Bobby. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Bobby countered, smiling at her.

The couple relaxed as the man- Issac- lowered his gun from my face, turning to Bobby. "How are you?" he asked, giving the older man a pat on the shoulder. "You too, Lizzie. It's been awhile."

"Hello?" I lifted my hand and gave a wave to get their attention. "Bleeding here."

Rolling her eyes, Liz ignored me and smiled at Tamara. "Please tell me you have a place you're holed up in? I am so not in the mood to stay at a sleazy motel."

"Of course." Tamara smiled, nodding to Liz as the two women started to walk off. "So, what's with the extra baggage?"

"Winchesters," was all Liz said as they continued to walk off.

Winchesters? That's all she's got to say? And in that tone? What the hell did we do to her? And when did we become 'extra baggage'? What the hell?

EPOV

It was dark outside now. Bobby, Sam, Dean and I had followed Issac and Tamara, they'd brought us to a run down, abandoned house, just outside of town. All their things were here, everything anyone could ever need to kill monsters and whatnot. Their collection of items had always amazed me.

The first time I met Issac and Tamara had been in my early hunting years.

Bobby had saved me from my first hunt, which had been about revenge. I was naive, and had no idea what was doing, the hunt turned wrong, fast. That's how Bobby and I first met. He'd taken me in, began to teach me everything how to become a hunter- we both knew I wasn't going to quit- and then we'd gone off to hunt together. We were dealing with a witch situation when we found out Issac and Tamara were on the same case.

Tamara had taken an instant liking to me, treating me as if I were her sister or daughter. She was protective and cautious, but also fun and excited. She ended up showing me a few things that even Bobby hadn't known. Issac had been just as nice and supportive of my decision to hunt

It had only been a few months since their wedding, but with how they acted around each other, you'd think they were new lovers. At the same time, it was like they'd been together forever, like they were made for each other. They were so in love and so in sync. It amazed me.

I remember thinking that what they had was something I wanted. Back then I hadn't even kissed a guy yet. Just under a year into being a hunter and I was more innocent than most people would have realised. Holding a guy's hand would have been a big step for me. So the idea of finding a guy who loved to hunt as well, and getting married and having a family with him, it was the ultimate dream.

"So, Jenny, is it? That's a beautiful name." Dean was in the background, talking on the phone. "That's my sister's name. Yeah."

Ignoring him, I watched as Tamara and Issac moved about.

"Honey... where's the Palo Santo?" Issac asked. I'd always loved their British accents.

Tamara gave him a pointed look. "Well, where'd you leave it?"

He sighed, "I don't know, dear, that's why I'm asking."

"Palo Santo?" Sam asked from where he stood by a counter, looking at the many things Tamara and Issac had.

"It's holy wood," I explained. "Found in Peru." When he gave me a question look, I shrugged, "I'm not just a pretty face, Sam. I know a lot more than you realise." Grinning, I went on, "Palo Santo is toxic to demons, like holy water."

Tamara came to stand beside me, looking through the bag that sat on the bench next to me. "Keeps the bastards nailed down while you're exorcising them," she told him as she pulled out the Palo Santo stake before handing it to her husband.

"Thank you, dear."

She shook her head, chuckling at him. "You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me."

Sam watched the couple, amused. "So how long have you two been married?"

"Eight years this past June," Tamara answered.

Issac leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead before speaking to Sam. "The family that slays together..."

"Right, I'm with you there." Sam nodded. "So, how'd you get started?"

My head snapped in his direction. "Dude, seriously?"

He instantly realised his mistake. Smile now gone, he looked so guilty as he tried to apologise. "Oh, you're not... I'm sorry. It's not... it's none of my business."

"No, no, it's... it's all right," Tamara assured him.

Dean walked back into the room then, distracting everyone from the awkwardness. "Well, Jenny, if you, uh, look as pretty as you sound then I'd love to have an appletini." He looked to Sam, the idea of having an appletini clearly not sitting right with him. "Yeah. Call you." He smiled before hanging up. "That was the coroner's tech," he told us.

"And?" Sam pressed.

"Get this. That whole family, cause of death, dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint. No violence. They just sat down and never got up."

That made no sense...

"But there was a fully-stocked kitchen just yards away," Bobby noted.

"Right." Sam looked just as confused as I felt. "What is this, a demon attack?"

Bobby shrugged. "If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw and I've seen plenty."

"Well, what now? What should we do?" Dean asked.

But it was Issac who spoke up, his answer not what either Sam, Bobby, Dean or I wanted to hear. "Uh, we're not gonna do anything."

I turned to look at him, not liking the sound of that. "What are you talking about?"

"You guys seem nice enough," he looked from Sam to Dean, "but this ain't Scooby-Doo and we don't play well with others."

"Well, I think we'd cover more ground if we all worked together," Sam suggested.

But it was clear Issac wasn't changing his mind. "No offence. But we're not teaming with the damned fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place."

Dean pushed off the bench turning to Issac. "No offence?"

Before anyone else could speak, Tamara turned to her husband. "Issac. Like you've never made a mistake."

"Oh, yeah. Locked my keys in the car." Issac nodded. "Turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world though."

Dean gave a short unamused laugh. "All right. That's enough."

Sam looked exhausted already, and nothing had even happened yet. "Guys, this isn't helping. Dean."

"Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now," Issac started. "We don't know where they are. When they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On all of us."

He was right though. Well, partially at least. We did play a part in the opening of the gate. But if we're being honest here, it would have opened anyway. I mean, if Dean hadn't of made the deal, if Sam and I had stayed dead, Jake would have opened the gate anyway.

That didn't make me feel any less guilty though, and as I looked around the room, I realised I wasn't the only one feeling bad about the situation.

Shaking her head, Tamara grabbed her husband's arm. "Okay. That's quite enough testosterone for now," she said before dragging him out of the room.

"All right..." I sighed, looking to the three men left with me. "Maybe we should go find a hotel."

I sat on my bed, in my room, on my own.

The two weeks that had gone by since I'd left the brothers, I had done a lot of thinking, and a bit of hunting as well. I'd finished a couple of haunting jobs on my own, and used the rest of my spare time to just drive around and think.

Sam and Dean were friends, family. I cared about them. That was a problem.

Ash was dead. I'd lost yet another person I cared about. Dean was going to die in eleven months. All I'd have left would be Bobby, Ellen, Jo and Sam. Before long, I'd lose them too, and I couldn't go through with that. Dealing with the loss of loved ones, and the pain… it was going to kill me.

Which is why I'd told the brothers and Bobby to get their own rooms and do whatever they want, while I stuck to my room and did a little more research on the town.

It was getting close to midnight when there was a knock on my door.

Unfolding my legs, I got up and headed over. Peeking through the peephole I sighed before unlocking the door and opening it. "What do you want?" I asked, turning away and walking over to my bed again.

"Nice to see you, too." Dean followed me in and closed the door.

"I repeat, what do you want?" Taking a seat on my bed as I focused on my computer, I refused to look at him. "Thought you and Sam would have made good use of the local bar by now. Found a girl or two to have some fun with. Not like you've got a lot of time left."

He scoffed, shaking his head before storming over and closing my computer. "What's your problem?"

Finally looking at him, I glared. "What's my problem?" Shaking my head, I once again unfolded my legs and moved to stand, not caring as I got in his personal space. "My problem is that for years I'd done a fantastic job at keeping people at arm's length and then I do one job, one job with you and your brother, and my life is turned upside down."

"What the hell happened? What did Sam and I do to piss you off so much?" He almost sounded offended.

"Sam?" I gave a harsh laugh. "Sam did nothing."

He looked hurt, confused and clearly angry at my answer. "Me? What the hell did I do to you?"

"It doesn't matter. I've learnt my lesson." Shoving past him- harshly bumping his shoulder on the way- I moved to my bag. "Now, I work alone."

"Then why are you here?" He followed me. "Why are you at this job?"

"Bobby asked me to come," I mumbled, hating that I loved the old man enough to go against everything I wanted and needed to do for myself.

Grabbing my shoulder, he turned me around to face him. "That's bull." He looked into my eyes, searching them. "Why are you really here? Is it... did you come to see me? To see Sam and me?"

Stepping even closer to him until our chests were pressed together, I looked from his eyes, to his lips as I neared them with my own. My voice low as I spoke, my hands gripping his jacket tightly.

"I'm here to find something to kill."

Whatever we'd shared before was gone. At least for me it was. The sex had been great, the guy had been great, everything had been great. He was sweet, caring, smart, funny, and the perfect amount of badass and bad-boy.

But none of that mattered to me anymore.

Letting him go, I grabbed my purse, phone and keys off the table and started for the door. "Lock up when you leave."

"Where the hell are you going?" he called after me.

"Out!"

SPOV

Standing outside on the path I watched as a forensics team went over a crime scene. I wasn't a hundred percent sure what had happened, but it didn't feel right. Women don't just attack and kill other women for shoes... did they?

Walking into the store where the shoes were bought, I walked up to Dean, catching the end of his conversation with one of the store's staff members.

"What happened outside makes you realise how fragile life really is," he told her, though I noticed how he was only putting half his normal effort in. "You gotta make every second count."

I cleared my throat, getting both his and the woman's attention.

He offered a kind smile. "Excuse me a minute, would you?"

"Sure." She nodded with a small smile of her own before walking off.

Once she was gone, I sighed at my brother. "Dean, what are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Comforting the bereaved. What are you doing?"

"Working," I answered simply. "Dead body. Possible demon attack, that kind of stuff."

We'd heard about the incident while we were out getting breakfast. Once we had our food- Dean insisted we finished eating first- we went back to the hotel to find Lizzie. But apparently, she already knew about the case, because when we got to her room there was no answer.

Bobby had called her and found out she was posing as an agent at the police station, asking the attacker questions. Not liking her working by herself, Bobby had then left Dean and I to go join her.

It surprised me at how protective and fatherly he was when it came to her, and yet through the years he'd taken care of us we'd never seen or heard of her.

"Besides..." I chose my words carefully as I went on. "What about Lizzie?"

"What about her?"

"Well, you two did have a thing," I noted.

"Exactly. We had a thing. Past tense, Sammy. It's over."

"So, what? Now you're just friends?"

He gave a sharp nod. "Exactly."

I knew they liked each other. I knew they were both good for each other. The only problem I'd had was the fact that they were only casual. If Dean was going to settle down with anyone, it would be Lizzie.

"And you know," he turned to look at the woman he'd just been talking to, "I don't have much time left. You gotta make every second count."

"Yeah. Right." I rolled my eyes, wondering how many more times he was going to play that card. Yet it still worked every time. "I'm sorry."

His smile returned. "Apology accepted."

Bobby and Lizzie walked up to us then, Bobby dressed in his suit while Lizzie had ditched her usual pants suit. Instead she wore a tight black pencil skirt that fell mid-thigh and a white button up top with black heels, her hair twisted into a neat bun and some make up on. During the whole time she'd been with Dean and I, she'd never put so much effort into how she looked. Even I couldn't resist looking her up and down…

"Looking spiffy, Bobby." Dean completely ignored Lizzie. "What were you, a G-man?"

"Suspect wasn't possessed." Lizzie got straight to the point. "But there is clearly something wrong with her if she's willing to mercilessly kill someone over a pair of ugly-ass green heels."

Bobby nodded, agreeing with her- about the possession, of course. "There's none of the usual signs. No blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid. Just think she really wanted those shoes-"

"Those ugly-ass green shoes," Lizzie slipped in as Bobby went on.

"I spilled a glass of holy water on her, just to be sure. Nothing."

"Maybe she's just some random whack job," Dean suggested.

Bobby didn't seem too convinced. "If it had been an isolate incident, maybe. But first the family, now this? I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of them. Did you boys find anything around here?"

I shook my head. "No sulphur. Nothing."

"Well, maybe something." Dean turned and nodded to a security camera up in the corner before he turned back to me. "See? I'm working."

EPOV

I sat on the desk by the computers where Sam and Bobby were watching the security footage of the store. With one foot over the other, my legs stretched out in front of me, I was well aware of the fact that Dean couldn't stop glancing at them.

"Anything interesting?" I asked, turning a little so I could see the screens as well.

"I don't know, yet." Sam shrugged, just as a man walked into the store on the screen. "Might just be a guy. Or it might be our guy."

I watched the guy, seeing him rest a hand on the attacker's shoulder before the two of them looked over to the victim as she stood by the shoe stand.

"That's him." There was no doubt in my mind. The look on his face, the way he touched her. "That's our guy." Pushing off the desk I started for the door.

But Dean was right there to stop me, stepping in my way. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to go find the son of a bitch, and I'm going to send his ass back to hell," I answered as if to say 'duh'.

"No." He shook his head. "We're doing this together."

"Dean's right," Bobby spoke from behind me. "Lizzie, I don't want you going off on you own. Not when we don't know who this guy is."

Sighing, I didn't bother putting up a fight as I turned to Bobby. "Fine. But just so everyone is clear, once this job is over I'm gone again. I don't need babysitting anymore."

Bamby

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lasselantanariel · 6 years

Photo

The story fades around you, dropping you gently but firmly into reality once again. You stare at the faded out “next page” arrows, with a familiar feeling of sadness, frustration, and anticipation. Knowing you’ll have to wait for the next update, you scroll down the page to check in with your fellow fans. As your scroll lower across the gifs and puns you feel a tugging sensation from within, suddenly you’re not staring at a screen but standing on a tall grassy hill, the sky above is dark enough to see stars, but there is a slight purple glow about the edges. There’s a faintly salty taste to the air, and you can hear waves nearby, but below you. Before you stands a large fort, its walls made of multi-colored pillows, large blankets drape over top of it to serve as a roof, brightly painted miniature airships hover above it all, their tiny anchors holding parts of the blankets to keep them from sagging. There are several openings ahead, the most prominent marked by a sign that reads “Namesake Pillow Fort” over which someone has taped a paper reading “Pillow Fort O’ Feels” in large friendly lettering. Below these is a third that says simply “All are welcome.” You hear laughter within and step inside curiously.

The first thing you notice is the utter vastness of it all...it’s so much bigger on the inside, pillow walls divide its many rooms, but there’s an odd distortion around the edges, as though your eye cannot quite gauge the distance. There’s a large bonfire ahead, near the center of the tent, with a laughing crowd around it who seem to be roasting marshmallows, although several stand a little way off from them muttering about safety hazards, as they eye the fire dubiously. Not far from them a group talks excitedly, theorizing where the story will go next, you notice a few knowing glances shared between a few of their number, but those who know what’s next keep to the “No Spoilers” rule. Their debate is interrupted by an ominous pronouncement of doom from one of the occupants of a nearby cushioned bench. The people sitting on it look slightly uncomfortable, in spite of its plush softness, one figure kneels in front of it, tapping its sturdy wooden base and muttering something about supports.

You bump distractedly into something soft and look down. Next to the door is a large stack of extra pillows and blankets, a familiar pair of blue eyes appear in the air above them, joined by a toothy white smile as one of the Cheshire cats settles in. You stare for a moment. “It’s a bit overwhelming isn’t it?” asks a voice. You turn to see a familiar yet unfamiliar woman pulling an ice cream cart, which she seems to be using as a tea trolley. “Things got a bit out of hand, but it’s wonderful here. You get used to the size eventually...sort of. Would you like a map? I’m afraid they’re not very helpful for distances, but they serve as a general guide.” she turns back to her cart. On it sits a teapot, several mismatched cups and plates, an inviting plate of warm cookies, and some kind of cake with cream cheese frosting. “Butter pecan,” she says as if reading your mind. “My favorite. There are other desserts too, we all carry something different.” “We?” you ask. “Oh, I’m with the C.I.C.” she says, pointing to her cart. “Cakes and Ice Cream. This is one of the emergency mobile units. Our main office is over there.” She points to your right, where several more carts sit by tables full of desserts, the scents of coffee and apple cider waft slightly above the rest. A woman with wings wearing a beanie, and a man serving tea pause to wave. “That’s Kitzel and Rob.” She says, waving back. “We’ve got pretty much everything in there. We even recently installed a slushie machine.” She seems oddly proud of this. “Anyway, your map.” she unfolds it, turning it to face you, and points to the bottom. “You’re here. If you go left you-” She was cut off by a loud noise like a tea kettle. “Oh dear, that sounded like Wolph. Selva must be helping with costumes again. Excuse me.” She grabs her cart and dashes off through an opening in the pillow wall to the left. Did she say Selva?? You run after her, stumbling into the largest backstage dressing room you’ve ever seen. There are costumes and mirrors everywhere, and you nearly bump into a dress form as you stare at Selva, surrounded by a cloud of falling glitter.

“I’m so sorry! I offered to help and she exploded!” Selva said worriedly.

“It’s ok Selva, she’ll reform in a few minutes, she’s pretty experienced at it by now. Just don’t hug her or she’ll explode again.”

You could swear you heard the glitter whisper “Too perfect!” as it fell.

“Is she okay?” Another woman with a C.I.C. cart rushes up, wearing an Eeyore onesie.

“Hey, Denise. Yeah, Selva offered to help with her costume, and she exploded.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “I’ll wait here with her until she gets herself back together. I made scones again, try some!”

Before you can ask, another woman runs up. “Autumn! Look at my wings!! Selva and Trypt helped me with them!” She does an expert twirl, showing off her beautiful winged ball gown. “I look like a fairy!”

“Oh wow Madness, that looks amazing!”

“Thanks! I’m going to go try out my new routine in it!” She dances off excitedly, and you can’t help but stare after her. The ball gown is just so pink. You blink dazedly, following her as she dances into the next room through a cloud of glitter. Music plays from a stage at the other end of a long long room lined with gauzy drapes in dusty pinks and purples, and glitter seems to hover in the air like sparkling clouds over the dancers.

“What is this place?” you wonder aloud.

“The Grand Ballroom. Beautiful isn’t it?” The woman you spoke to before stands next to you, smiling at the room with obvious fondness. “Careful of the glitter in there, you’ll never get it off. It seeps into your soul.” It was impossible to tell from her smile whether this was a joke.

You glance down at your map to see what lies beyond it. “What’s the wailing room?”

“It’s like a wailing wall, only I tried to soundproof it a bit, by putting them in the corner. It’s not all shouting though, lots of people just cry and write letters and stick them between the pillows. It seems to help. Next to that we have-” She broke off suddenly, staring into the crowd ahead and sniffing slightly. You catch the faint scent of peaches from somewhere inside the ballroom, and following her gaze, see a tall figure with a white feather cloak and owl mask drifting through the glittery haze, between dancers. You both watch until he disappears into the crowd. She shakes her head as if to clear it. “What was I saying? Right, then you’ll find my favorite spot the Archive. You’ll probably bump into Elaine and Warrick there too.”

“Are all the characters in here?” You ask her.

“Of course. Well, all the safer ones I mean. Most of them wander, but Ben makes the most amazing pancakes over at the buffet, and Nandita runs the therapy circle. You can usually spot a few by Storyteller Central. That’s where you can usually find Isa and her notebook and Meg with her knitting too. Although you might find them in other places as well, like the Archive. Everyone’s bound to be in the Archive sooner or later.”

“What’s this Pile O’ Plushies? And Lurker Lounge?” You ask, pointing at the map.”

She laughs, “A giant pile of stuffed animals that some of our fellow fans disappear into and only seem to come out for snacks, and a dark and quiet area for fans who don’t feel up to socializing right now. I used to live there myself, and still have to visit. Never feel bad if you need to go in there, it’s there for a reason. You’ll still have coloring books, and snacks, and blankets, just no socializing. A few of the cats like to hang out in there too. And there’s a handy exit if you need it. I wish all places had a lurker lounge.”

“What’s in the bunker?”

“Everything. I’m frankly afraid to try mapping it, people keep adding to it. The upside and the downside of a group project fueled by imagination. It’s taken on a life of its own now. We also have a Shipping Harbor down that way. You can reach it by the path outside, or a tunnel in the bunker below.”

“Thank you.” You say.

“Hey, no problem.” She responds holding out a hand, “The name’s Lasselanta, but you can call me Lanta if you want. Or Nariel”

“Didn’t that other woman call you Autumn?”

She laughs, and as her head tips back you notice a faint point at the tips of her ears.“It’s the same thing really. Lasselanta Nariel is just my name in Quenya, Autumn Blaze is its English translation. Anyway, welcome to the Namesake Fandom. You’re going to love it here.”

#namesake fan art #namesake

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