#do people still make fics about Sam’s finale scene?

[golbrocklovely]

a witching hour // sam golbach

A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!

prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach

trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly

word count: 3381

I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.

It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.

I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.

My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.

I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.

I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.

Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?

I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.

I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.

Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.

Who the hell would dye their cat pink?

I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.

The place was completely trashed.

Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.

"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.

"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.

I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"

"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.

"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.

"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.

"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."

"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.

Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?

"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.

"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."

"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.

I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"

"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.

"Who are you?" Alice questioned.

"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."

"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.

"We have?" They replied.

I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."

"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.

"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.

"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.

My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."

"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.

"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"

"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.

"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"

"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.

"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.

"With swords." Alice said plainly.

"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.

"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.

"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.

Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."

Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.

I can only imagine how expense that wig was.

Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"

"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.

I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."

"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.

"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"

"Yes?" She asked.

I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.

Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.

"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.

"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.

I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.

Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.

I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.

A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.

"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.

I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.

"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.

"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.

He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."

"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.

"I guess so." Sam chuckled.

I questioned, "How long will this last?"

"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."

"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.

I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."

He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."

"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.

"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Probably." I teased.

Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."

“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.

"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"

He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"

"No, what?" I jeered slightly.

"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"

"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.

"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.

He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."

"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.

He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"

"What?" I turned and looked at him.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."

The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."

"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.

"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.

"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."

The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"

"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.

I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."

"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.

I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."

"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."

"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."

"Only if you want me to...." He teased.

"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."

"Get closer to me." He ordered.

My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.

"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"

"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.

"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."

I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."

I exhaled, "Wha-?"

Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.

Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."

"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.

He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.

"S-Sam." I choked.

My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.

I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.

And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"

My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.

"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.

"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.

"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.

I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"

He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"

"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."

"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.

I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."

"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.

"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.

Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."

I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.

So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.

I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!

I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.

"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.

A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"

I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"

"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.

I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"

"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.

"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.

I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."

"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"

"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."

I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.

#sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fic #sam golbach vampire #sam golbach angst #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot

[its-time-to-write]

Hiya! I would love to request a fic based on the scene in the last episode where the fans storm the field?? Like you’d be the first leading the crowd to get Jamie♥️

This one is a little short, but hopefully it’s what you’re looking for!

something to rely on

Honestly, you never cared about football more than when you started dating Jamie Tartt, and you don’t think you’ve ever cared as much as you do at the West Ham game. 

You’re fucking sweating.

You’re sandwiched in between Rebecca and Keeley and you are so goddamn stressed, especially because Jamie had been acting so weird and barely talked about it, to the point where pretty much your only interaction had been sitting on the couch or laying in bed, while he clung to you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

It was so, so weird and it’s giving you whiplash from the Jamie you met, the one who’s confident and cocky, and just a little bit of a prick but in a sexy way you like, not in a dickish way. At least not to you.

You knew it’s because of the fact that he was headed back to Manchester and the atmosphere toward him was… less than friendly, but you also knew that he had to be looking for his dad. Jamie’s always on edge if there’s the possibility of his dad showing up. 

He got it together though, with help from Ted, but you’re still nervous. West Ham is crushing Richmond at halftime, and you’re holding Rebecca’s arm like it’s a lifeline. It feels like everything they’ve worked for is slipping away until, from out of nowhere, the score is 2-2. You’re watching Jamie, completely surrounded, but Richmond gets a free kick and he grabs the ball to set it up. 

Keeley has a death grip on your knee and you’re fairly certain none of you are breathing. Jamie’s signaling for the ball, but Sam- Sam is completely open. He receives the ball, makes the goal, and you’re on your feet, going hoarse from screaming as the game is signaled to be at its end. 

Fans start to storm the pitch and you glance at Rebecca with a question on your face.

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Oh go on, then,” she says and then you’re clambering over her to zip down the stairs as fast as you possibly can. You hear Keeley ask, “Where the fuck’s she going?” but you honestly don’t even care.

You’re on the field frantically searching for Jamie and calling his name, when a couple fans move and you see him across the way. You’re sprinting toward each other and you launch yourself into his arms, spinning around till he puts you on the ground and dips you for a kiss.

It’s the best kiss of your life. 

You finally pull away, breathless and laughing. He presses his forehead to your and for a moment, you’re the only two on the pitch.

“Fucking knew you could do it,” you whisper. “Knew you were a great actor ever since Lust Conquers All.”

Jamie replies, “Oi, come off it,” but he’s staring at your lips with such a hungry look that you know he doesn’t mean it. 

You’re about to kiss him again when you hear a voice say, “I fucking knew it.”

You both jump to see Isaac two feet away.

“How the fuck?” Jamie asks. “We did so good at hiding it.”

“Body language, bruv,” Isaac responds. “You two act weird every time you’re in the same room.”

You shrug. Jamie’s hands are on your waist and your arms are still around his neck, but neither of you care. Screw secrecy; if there were ever a time to let people know you’re together, this is it. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[buckets-and-trees]

Congrats again on 300 my love ❤️❤️ so you may already know which AU I’m going to be requesting, because it’s my favourite story of yours (so far) and that is Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree!! This story made my heart ache and if you have the inspiration for it I’d love love love to see more!! I don’t want to restrict your imagination by being too specific, but literally anything with those two and I would die of happiness 💙💙

Em, I squealed when you dropped this into my box for the request fest! Partly because I adore you. Partly because you know I also really adore Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree. And partly I squealed out of terror because...I was worried I wouldn't be able to do any kind of follow up to this fic justice. But I took a deep breath and let that go and decided to just let whatever happen happen. I was also a little worried because when I wrote Cedar Tree, it felt very finished, so I didn't have any leftover thoughts to pick up and play around with, so I literally took that first week to just think about them and their story. And then... a lot of scenes started to emerge - stuff before and after Cedar Tree, stuff that was just them, stuff with the people around them.

This is where I landed for now. It's not the same as Cedar Tree - first thing being that it's told from Steve's perspective instead of the reader's - but I'm thinking it will make sense in their overall narrative.

This it the end of their honeymoon, a few weeks before Cedar Tree.

Fandom: MCU Title: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x female!Queen!Reader, brief Sam and Bucky Word Count: 1.2k Summary: The final night and morning of King Steven's royal honeymoon.

Content Warnings: brief sexual relations (p in v)

Additional Notes: The third offering to celebrate 300 followers with the request fest! While this depicts events before Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree, it does not stand alone and should be read AFTER reading the original piece. Song title inspiration from Better Love by Hozier, which is one of the songs on my original Cedar Tree writing playlist. A/N 2: This still is pretty arbitrary, but although I knew the original was a historical royal AU setting, I basically closed my eyes and pointed when I ended up saying it was medieval. I debated between medieval or Georgian/regency vibe, but NOW it's decidedly Georgian, which will be more relevant if/as I share more of their story in the future.

It’s as he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, that Steve realizes he’s already deciphered the difference between how it sounds when you’re asleep, when you’re awake, and when you’re somewhere in between. He didn’t expect that.

He expected a lot of things after taking you as his queen, but there were so many small things that make sense, but he simply hadn’t thought of, like this – knowing so quickly the sounds of your breathing.

Ten days and in some ways he knew so much more about you than he knew about anyone else but himself – more than he’d known about his parents, than Bucky whom he’d grown up with and trusted else as his closest friend and advisor, more than his general Sam who he trusted with the security of his kingdom and his own life.

The betrothal, the brief period of engagement, the wedding, and the wedding feast had all been very public and formal. The moment the two of you had entered the royal carriage to make the journey to his small palace in the lake country for the honeymoon, everything was suddenly private and intimate. It was the first time Steve had truly been alone with you, and the first moments alone would have been awkward – he certainly hadn’t thought about that moment until suddenly the two of you were there alone – but you had clearly thought of the circumstance in advance and had been prepared to make easy conversation. While the first few minutes had been an effort to make conversation, they swiftly did progress to easy conversation. The topics had been largely trivial and unimportant, but the words were not stilted.

After a late and quick supper upon arrival, the two of you had retired to the royal bedchamber. Steve had expected a dutiful consummation, and duty may have called for the deed, but the execution had unexpectedly run deeper, warmer, with the undertones of the fledgling familiarity built over the few hours alone earlier. Each day the familiarity grew, and though there could have perhaps been moments that could have allowed each of you two part naturally, you both drew each other into extending conversations, going on walks or rides or visiting a new area of the palace together, continuing formally in the first few days until it became merely natural and the two of you forgot altogether the idea of spending much of the time apart.

Now he understood the nostalgia with which many referred to the honeymoon. It was a pity it was coming to an end. Two weeks ago, you were little more than strangers to be wed and fulfill your royal duties. Here on this final night, he could not think of it ending. Tomorrow he would go back to being the king again.

He sighed and turned his head to look at you. He wanted to reach for you, pull you closer, touch you, but the touching wouldn’t be enough, and he’d said sensibly that the two of you should retire early specifically so he could sleep and be well rested for his early departure. He hadn’t thought you warming his bed would be torture. He thought that it would be soothing and help him sleep. But this was worse, and the longer he listened, the less it seemed sleep would ever come to him. But he would not leave or send you away, it was the last night he would have this kind of closeness afforded to him with ease. He also didn’t want to disturb you if you were perhaps close to dropping off to sleep. Nearness was enough, even if it meant no sleep.

Suddenly you shifted, rolling to lie on your back, and you let out a long sigh of your own.

“Sleep alluding you, my queen?”

“As it seems to be alluding you, my king. I know the time is only slipping away until you’re required to wake and depart. Is my restless state keeping you awake?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps, but not in the way you think.”

He rolled up on his elbow and places a hand on your hip, drawing circles there with his fingers.

“Perhaps I can beckon sleep for both of us in…other ways.”

His hand moved up to cup your breast. He gave a squeeze and brushed his thumb over your nipple, the thin fabric of your night shift barely there. You whimpered his name, arching slightly into his palm.

“Yes?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you pleaded.

While he reached down to pull up the hem of your nightdress, your hands went quickly to free his growing desire for you. Quickly he shifted his body over yours, nestling between your eagerly parting legs. He smiled as he guided his cock to your heated folds, happy to find you were already wet. He looked up to your face, and you bit your lip before reaching your hands up to his jaw and drawing him down to meet your lips. Steve devoured you with his kiss as he plunged into you, and you gave yourself up to him completely until you were both exhausted and sleep finally overtook you.

When one of his esquires woke him in the pre-dawn glow, he suppressed a groan of agitation. It is not the kind of king he has ever wanted to portray to his subjects. He will always be a dignified king. He was diligent in making sure you were tucked in with propriety before falling asleep himself, but he looks over to make sure your modesty is preserved this morning now with someone else in the room. He wants to kiss you goodbye, and while part of him wants nothing more than to wake you, see your eyes look up at him before he leaves, he refrains from doing anything more than brushing the hair off and away from your face with only the lightest caress. It would be silly to wake you for any more sentimentality. The honeymoon is truly over, and he only feels this consuming tie because of the unique circumstances of here and now. When you are both back in the capitol, it will be more normal and less sentimental. He will be himself again.

Downstairs in the hall there were simple foods ready for him to break his fast, and Lord Barnes and General Wilson were both waiting and ready to receive their king. Barnes would accompany him to Stark’s kingdom, but Wilson was there to escort the queen back to the castle.

“Guard her with your life,” Steve commanded.

Wilson gave a slight bow. “Yes, my king.”

Steve turns to look at Barnes only to find a smirk on the man’s face. “What is so amusing at this hour?”

“You gave that order as if he hasn’t been in your service for years.”

“She is the queen,” Steve reminded them.

“I will afford her the same safety and security that I have for your majesty since given the responsibility of this position.”

Steve shook his head, “You should afford her more than you do me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “It will be done.”

Steve strode out of the foyer and Barnes fell in just one step behind him. “We need not rush away from the palace so soon. The official royal business of Stark’s expo does not require you so immediately.”

“This was the plan,” Steve retorted, “why would we alter course?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to your queen,” he agreed.

“The sooner we can return to my kingdom, Lord Barnes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

read more of the CEDAR TREES COLLECTION

read the next part: A SHIFT IN THE MORNING ROUTINE

#steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #royal au #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader insert #reader insert #steve rogers au #steve rogers royal au #king!steve rogers #request fest #aspen wrote something #aspen's request fest #cedar trees au

[logicheartsoul]

This meta has been a few years coming, but recently inspired due to: 1) Sian (@siancore) mentioning and incorporating into her amazing fic End of the World the moment that this meta is about, and 2) talking to Mexi (@thatmexisaurusrex) about this and then when she made that "share your fave sambucky moments that are canon" post, I knew this needed to finally been written and have its own proper post.

(Also, to @elektraking who wanted to be pinged when I finally wrote this, I finally did it!)

This post is long and image heavy but I didn't want to put it all under a read more.

We all know this scene from Infinity War, it's been all over people's dashes and giffed and etc etc. We also know it's a pretty quick scene, not necessarily a blink and you miss it one, but because it moves pretty quickly. If you're not paying too much attention to everyone else in the background, things will slip by.

However, watching things in 4K can really make things interesting because 1) you can zoom in and 2) you can zoom in and see some pretty clear detail, like the fact Sam and Bucky are looking at each other during this entire scene.

You can see here that everyone present except Sam isn't really watching Steve and Bucky interact -- either they're blocked from of the camera (Rhodey, Ayo, Bruce) or they're not looking at them (Nat has her eyes closed, T'Challa is looking at the side).

Sam is clearly in Bucky's line of sight, even if Bucky is looking at Steve (because we know Steve is moving closer to him and is about to talk to him)

On zoom in, we can see Sam is not zoned out, this is a very focused look at what is happening in front of him.

The next moment is where Steve goes in for the hug, but during this hug, a couple of things happen: 1) Sam moves closer towards them a bit, 2) he and Bucky actually DO stare at each other over Steve's shoulder

And for more than a few moments. Sort of significant if you think about the fact that Sam and Bucky seem to communicate a lot with nonverbal looks between each other. (We see this a few times in Civil War, and then later in this movie, but that will be even more apparent as fact in Endgame and, of course, TFATWS.)

And perhaps this could be passed off as "looking at each other coz we're looking in the same direction" except for the fact that Bucky makes a deliberate look at Sam when we get the pan over to his face.

When Steve backs away from the hug, we see Sam is still looking at Bucky, so we can assume during the entire exchange when the camera goes towards Bucky, Sam is still doing that.

Which leads us to when the camera pans over to Bucky.

(Yeah, yeah the cropping on this is kinda weird for me, but I wanted to make sure you could see his face.)

Steve proceeds to ask Bucky how he's doing. And of course, Bucky gives some kind of cutesy quip that fills space and time before going to the next big plot thing.

It's very interesting that Bucky pauses right after saying "uh, not bad", but as indicated by the arrow I put in the gif, he's staring in the exact direction where Sam would be. Because if you notice in the screenshots before this moment, above, when Bucky and Steve break away from the hug, Sam is in Bucky's line of sight but somewhat to the side, the same direction as the glance in the gif.

Now, as we know, the others are barely watching Steve and Bucky's interaction except Sam, who's still watching with focused attention.

If you were standing where Sam is standing, watching all of this, hearing Steve asking Bucky, "how's it going" and he responds "uh, not bad," and pauses WHILE looking at a glance in your direction, most people would consider that a moment.

And why wouldn't it be a moment? No one else is paying attention to Bucky or Steve except Sam. Bucky and Sam have before this comment were looking at each other when Steve brings in Bucky to a hug. Hell, Bucky could have just said "for the end of the world" without looking sideways and the scene would've worked as intended.

Yet, he gives that glance, and has a smile as he says, "not bad". While looking at Sam. It's so quick, yet it says so much. And considering how we know it's canon for them to be able to speak volumes by just sharing glances at each other (hello Sam looking at Bucky during Endgame), why wouldn't that apply here too? Because the glance wasn't really needed if you think about it.

And of course, Bucky deflects with his "for the end of the world" coz 1) he doesn't want Steve to try to make more small talk and 2) world ending shit is happening, they do NOT have time to stand around, they need to coordinate and they're on a time table. Because we all know Steve, he would want to know the reason why Bucky is actually smiling probably one of the first genuine smiles he's given on screen since TWS.

Anyway, we all know the rest: the plot moves forward, Sam and Bucky end up standing close to each other to witness Thanos' forces trying to get through Wakanda's shields, and then they end up being blipped.

Still, while a short, quick moment, on closer inspection, a lot can be said. Another in a line of Sam and Bucky's "saying things with a look" moments, but an underappreciated one.

#mcu #sambucky #meta #gif #my gifs #my meta #long post #lmao photoshop died on me while making gifs for this post and i had to restart my laptop 😂 #anyways i hope y'all enjoyed this post i have been meaning to write it for FOREVER but it's here so lmao

[shallyne]

Daylight

This is my very first tog fic (that isn't a crackship) and my very first rowaelin fic and also my very first entry for @throneofglassmicrofics and for my dearest @timesconvert || I hope you'll like it!

This is a song fic based on Taylor Swift's song Daylight

Words: 818

TW: triggering canon scenes mentioned!

Aelin looked at Rowan, really looked at him as he talked to Fenrys and realised once again how lucky they were to be here. How much shit they went through to even get to this point at all and how far they’ve come since they first met, how fate hat fucked them up so thoroughly that they still healed and Aelin realized right then how lucky she was to be able to heal, right beside her mate. What an honour it was to not only be able to have him at her side but to be there for him, too, at his side. Yes she looked at Rowan because Rowan was what she could look at and what she wanted to look at. She saw him and he saw her, she never wanted anything to change about that.He loved her, saw through all her faults, the lines she had crossed in the past to survive, her saw her and he loved her,

She still felt guilt about how easily she had trusted Arobynn, how trusting Arobynn was her only chance at survival at only 8 years older but especially that she had harboured hope that he wasn’t the cruel man she had witnessed over and over again, how he had failed her last test in trust but Rowan...he still loved her throughout her misplaced hope in Arobynn and every fucked up thing she had to do to get them where they were now, to get to a peaceful life.After they went through so much darkness, through endless nights, he was the light at the end of the tunnel. Rowan was her daylight, the breaking of dawn. He had helped her leave the young assassin behind and step into the role of Queen of Terrasen.

Yes, Aelin finally was out of the dark, thanks to her beautiful mate and she finally had the peace to take the time to look at him and appreciate him and love him.

Although there were nights they took a long, long time to appreciate each other it was something different to look at him now. How his posture had become relaxed, how the darkness had left his eyes, less haunted than ever, and his sassy remarks, Aelin huffed a laugh that had both fae males looking over their shoulder. She waved for them to continue their conversation, a smile glued to her face. Yes, his sassy remarks definitely increased, but she couldn’t blame him, it was the very same for herself.

After what felt like twenty years full of darkness, he was her daylight and Aelin liked to believe he felt the same about her.

The darkness was finally over.

Fenrys sighed after Rowan clapped him on his shoulder, he turned around, mocking a bow and bid her goodbye. Aelin stuck out her tongue before Fenrys had fully turned, and saw a hint of a smirk as Rowan walked towards her, the sun shining behind him, making him look like there was a golden glow around him.

After Sam, she hadn’t believed she would ever find a love so all consuming that her whole body would react to everything, but here she was, her mouth drying up at the beauty of her mate.

“Are you done with your broody male conversations?” she asked, picking at her nails.

Rowan plopped down beside her, his familiar pine and snow scent enveloping them. “You can’t really call two people a club, can you?”

Aelin shrugged, turning her face and cherishing the sunlight. “No but you probably planned another broody fae male meeting where you talk about…well…broody fae male stuff.”

Rowan huffed amused and she felt how he leaned closer. “What have you laughed about earlier?” he asked, his voice quiet and deep,

Aelin hid her shudder at the pleasure that brought his voice and turned her head towards her mate, meeting his beautiful green eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, buzzard?” Rowan only raised a brow, waiting for her to continue. She sighed, “I was just...I’m happy.” she admitted. Happy that she now could live a life where she could choose what she wanted. That she could be defined by the things she loved, not the things she hated. She wouldn’t be defined by the things that she was afraid of or the things that still haunted her in the middle of the night. They would be defined by the things that they love, they would become the people that made them happy.

“Me too.” Rowan said and although he wasn’t a man of big words, she saw the emotions in his eyes.He knew what she thought and he agreed.

Rowan stretched his hand out, for Aelin to take, and she did. He pulled her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Then they began walking, into the bright future that awaited them. Full of laughter and life and light.

#throne of glass #tog #throne of glass microfics #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn galathynius #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver whitethorn galathynius #aelin and rowan #aelin fireheart #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #Throne of glass fanfic #Throne of glass fic #Throne of glass fan fiction #Tog fan fiction #Tog fanfiction #Tog fanfic #Tog fic

[zepskies]

Writer Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @venus-haze! As always, your responses on this were really interesting and got me thinking about my answers. (Here's the original post.)

So these first questions are geared toward Ao3 stories.

How many works do you have on AO3? 48 and counting.

What's your total AO3 word count? Aw geez. According to the statistics page, 1,022,400.

(But I have more fics listed in Tumblr thanks to headcanons and things not yet posted in Ao3.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Every Loyalty - (Jon Snow x OC)

And So It Goes - (Butcher x OC)

Never Say Goodbye - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Break Me Down - (OC Version | Soldier Boy x OC)

Checkerboard - (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Always. I love getting feedback and engaging with the people who take the time to read my work. 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ooh, it's gotta be this imagine in SPN fandom: "Sam crosses the line." In which he's in love with Dean's girlfriend.

(Sequel to "You are Dean's one exception.")

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Well, most of my stories have happy endings. But probably Never Say Goodbye (Dean W. x Reader). It's a soulmate AU, so very rom-com and fluffy, despite all the drama they went through.

Though I could also say the same of the last story in the Midnight Espresso-verse: In Bad Weather.

Do you write crossovers? No, I don't. I've enjoyed reading a few though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, unfortunately lol. It's inevitable for as long as I've been writing though.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yes lol. I'm a romantic though, so it's often a mix of fluff, straight up romance, occasionally dashed with angst and/or hurt/comfort.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. (I hope not!)

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but I've received solicitations lol.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah, when I was a teenager just starting out writing, I used to write with one of my best friends growing up. (We're still good friends to this day.)

What's your all-time favorite ship? That's pretty much impossible. 🤣 It depends on the fandom! Nowadays I tend to write for OCs or reader inserts though.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Ooof, nothing recent. But I finally finished And So It Goes, which took me 3 years for some reason. 🙃

Though I do have both a Jason Teague x OC series and a Smallville Clark Kent x OC series outlined that realistically, I probably won't get to. 💔

What are your writing strengths? I've been told I'm good at dialogue and keeping canon characters in character, which is always amazing to hear! I try my best.

What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes and smut scenes are my biggest writing challenges, though I've been told I do a decent job at them. I know I tend to use adverbs a lot lol (I'm trying to curb that).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? So I try to minimize use of this, but, I've gotten critiqued (putting it mildly) on this before for two reasons. Admittedly, I've had to revise myself in certain use cases, but also, there are slang words and phrases in certain Spanish cultures that wouldn't make sense to another Hispanic/Latino culture that doesn't use the word/phrase. So sometimes, it's not that it's wrong grammatically, but that it's slang.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Oh jeezus, probably Chronicles of Narnia fandom when I was like, 10 and brand new to writing. 😂

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Ooh a tough one. I feel like there are so many! I do have a story I had outline years ago now for Steve Rogers/Captain America back in the MCU fandom (which I've written in before). But that fandom is a bit intimidating. 😂

What's your favorite fic you've written? Also really tough for me. I think it's a tie between two series:

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Midnight Espresso (Dean W. x Plus-Sized Latina!Reader)

One totally took me by surprise by how much I enjoyed writing the series and the characters (and figuring out how to write Soldier Boy/Ben 😂).

While the other allowed me to be a little more indulgent with myself, writing from my personal experience and my culture.

The responses on both stories have been amazing and incredibly heartwarming. 💗

No pressure tags:

@thatonewriter15 @waywardxwords @impala-dreamer @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @kaleldobrev -- and whoever else wants to join! 💜

#writer tag game #Ao3 #Supernatural #spn #the boys #game of thrones #jon snow #billy butcher #soldier boy #dean winchester #jason teague #sam winchester #clark kent #dean winchester x reader #smallville #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x oc #butcher x oc #jon snow x oc #dean winchester x you #soldier boy x you #favorite fics #getting feedback #on writing #writers who tumblr #writers on ao3 #writing strengths and weaknesses

[michellemisfit]

Shameless Fandom Questionnaire

Thanks for the tag my love @darlingian 💚

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once?

What haven’t I read more than once? I have 350+ open tabs and yet, here I am, re-reading @loftec’s None The Wiser. AGAIN. Because it makes me happy, and what is fandom about, if not making you happy? Other things that make me happy: Two of Your Earth Minutes by @the-rat-wins, The Menagerie & Twenty Strangers & On Top by @crossmydna, Cooperative Gameplay & Like Real People Do by Gray, An Exception to the Rule by @gallawitchxx, Weaver of Fate by Ravenheart, Life or Something by @palepinkgoat, The Garden Song duology by @gardenerian, Ristretto by @howlinchickhowl, let the bodies do the talking by @captainjowl, basically anything that @sam-loves-seb has ever written!!! Also anything by @crestfallercanyon who has been completely blowing me away. And like, a million more!!!

I also still merrily re-read stuff from the Merlin fandom and the Shadowhunters fandom, so if that’s of interest to you, hit me up and I will link you to several excessively long rec lists on the @f-f-podcast website, complete with accompanying podcasts!

All I’m saying is: RE-READING IS LOVE!!!

(Also I formatted this on my phone so hopes and prayers that all of these links are correct!!)

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog?

‘Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out’ into Club Kiss. It is genuinely one of the cleverest things I’ve ever seen!!

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about?

Mickey going along to Ian’s therapy session, on Ian’s request, and eventually deciding that he’s going to give this therapy thing a go himself.

What’s a fanart you love looking at?

I am utterly in love with @deedala’s style and Smokey Mickey and Gardening Joy always make me smile. I also absolutely adore @gallawitchxx’s style and wish I could be that bold and succinct in my own art.

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration?

I’ve been thinking about Ian & Mickey shot gunning for like… a year now 🤦

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else?

Currently discussing every episode of Shameless over on @f-f-podcast so basically discovering new things every week! Check it out if podcasts are your jam <3

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of?

There can never be too many coffee shop AUs, right? Not an underrated trope, but surprisingly underrepresented in this fandom 😭

What’s your favourite season?

Autumn! haha

Honestly, I’ll tell you when we’re done with South Side Rules, as we’re rating every episode, but we’re also rating each season overall so… watch this space in 2025!

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved?

Urgh. Don’t. Yikes… Yevgeny. Mandy. Fiona. Everyone else on Shameless who disappeared and then was never spoken of again. Like… what the heck? You don’t need to get the actors back. Just get the other characters to mention them, so I don’t feel like the writers forgot they existed! Also don’t give me Dichen Lichman and then just take her away!!! 😭

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough?

Every time Mickey has to say the end of his sentence directly into Ian’s mouth because Ian can’t wait the extra 3 seconds to let him finish, he needs his lips on that boy’s mouth NOW! They’re so precious and horny and I love that for them!

What line/dialogue/description from something else do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship?

90% of Richard Siken’s poems

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale?

They’ll be deliriously happy forever and ever and nothing bad is ever going to happen to them. It’s terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and we always defeat them and save the day.

#tag game #shameless questionnaire #fandom #fanfic #shameless fic rec #shameless fox #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #tag you’re it

[jawritter]

Carry ON

Chapter 1

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3890

Warnings: Heavy, HEAVY TW: Dean’s final episode of SPN. (Season 15x20 spoilers). Graphic injury. Me botching medical jargon, A lot of pain, blood, and hospital type atmosphere. Injured Dean Winchester. Angst. 

A/N: 1   I decided to kind of graze over the ‘death scene’ as it where, rather than focus on it because a lot of people find it very triggering, and even though the whole point of this fic is to have him survive it, I don’t want to trigger someone with having to mentally relive it.

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: 2 This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67 Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

Y/N was always a firm believer in a feeling of admonition, or a forewarning of sorts. Those feelings way deep down that tell you that something, somewhere down the path you’re currently walking, will go very, VERY, wrong. She’d been a hunter too long, and she’d seen a lot, but a lot of times, those forewarning premonitions of sorts, well, they had saved her life on many occasions.

She had that very same feeling when Sam Winchester called her, and asked for her assistance on what they believed was a ring of vampires stealing kids to raise for blood slaves. Literally the vampire version of ‘growing your own food’. He claimed that it was going to be an easy hunt that he and Dean had stumbled on while at a pie festival, and that he simply wanted to make sure that he’d had the hunters needed so that they weren’t outmanned.  There was something deep down inside of her gut that screamed this hunt, this very hunt she was packing her bags for, would leave her rendered forever changed, and that something was going to go very wrong indeed, or that this thing would hit so damn close to the heart as it did. 

She’d known the Winchesters for a little over a decade, and from the moment she’d met them, she’d fallen head over heels for the green eyed Winchester that seemed to always be just out of her reach. Whether it be because he was with another woman, or the fact that she was quite invisible to him, she didn’t know. A lot of the time, it did feel like Dean never even saw her, no matter how much she worked with them, or what she did to gain his attention. What she did know was that every time Sam called her, she’d go, if for nothing else, to spend just a little time with the man that literally had her heart from ‘hello’.

Y/N had never believed in love at first sight before. Hell, as a hunter, she thought love itself was the one human lore that was utter bullshit, and it was something she shouldn’t think about. Boy, did Dean test that belief from the moment she’d met him. 

Still, she never thought she’d witness what she was going to witness, not from something as generic as a vampire hunt. Something they had all done time and time again, being seasoned hunters. Something that, until they walked through the doors of that Goddamn barn had gone so simply, so old school, that she wasn’t even really needed, and that the boys could have taken this very standard hunt on their own. If someone would have told her what was about to happen, and what was to come, she probably would have told them that they were lying. 

Now, there were some things that were vivid in her mind leading up to the series of unfortunate events; warning signs that her subconscious wouldn’t let her focus on. Just like there was, and will always be, a lot of unanswered questions in her mind, because again, she simply couldn’t remember everything that had happened before her eyes, it all happened so fucking fast.

What she could remember however, was the sickening thud as she and Sam fought a vamp not ten feet away from where Dean was jostled onto that post and piece of rebar that had been protruding out from it. What she did remember, was standing back in utter horror as she watched Sam and Dean say their final goodbyes; as Dean’s vision started to fail him, his breath became harder and harder to take, and his body started to tremble as he gave into his sheer state of shock. She remembered the pain in his voice increasing, and she remembered the fear that he did his damndest to keep under control so that his baby brother wouldn’t panic. That she remembers very clearly. She remembered every fucking word they’d said to one another, and more than that, she remembered feeling very, VERY, helpless, the most helpless she’d ever felt in her life.

All as she watched Dean start to succumb to what surely was the excruciating pain; the cough got worse, his breaths became more and more shallow, as his words became harder and harder to say, while his strength started to fail him. She also vividly remembered the flashing lights and sirens as Dean’s head dropped onto Sam’s shoulder, and his consciousness failed him. 

What she didn’t remember was calling the ambulance, even though she clearly had, because the phone was in her hand with the voice of the 911 operator playing in her head like a white noise of some kind, there, but not really there. 

She didn’t remember the police taking pictures of the bodies that littered the dirty barn floor, sporting the mask that they had in their sketches. Just like she didn’t remember telling them that Dean was her husband, and that they were working as undercover FBI agents when the fight escalated, and Dean was tossed onto the rebar that was impaling him, but she did it. 

Y/N did remember the sound of the saw as they cut through the post holding him up because his back was fused tight against the rod with the blow of sheer force he was shoved onto the object. She remembered helping Sam and others hold him up and support his weight as they laid him down on his side, a chunk of wood and rebar still in his back. 

She also remembered a lot of yelling, so much yelling. Sam was yelling at a cop. The EMT’s were yelling at one another debating over which hospital had a big enough trauma center to take him to so that he might even remotely have a chance to survive. She remembered the sound of the helicopter as it landed in the field just outside the barn as so many hands worked to stabilize him. She did hear words being yelled like pneumothorax, and someone saying they needed to relieve the chest cavity of blood. Then there was talk of a possible spinal injury, but they wouldn't let her get close enough to see what they were doing to him. 

What she will absolutely never forget is the horrors that were running through her head as they cut his shirt from his chest, and his lifeless looking face and slacked jaw while his head lulled sickeningly on the gurney while they worked frantically to save his life. Thoughts of him surely not surviving this. Thoughts of being wheel chair bound, and fuck knows what else, IF he lived at all. 

She will forever remember doing her damndest to run with the gurney, Sam running along the other side of it, as they rolled him to the helicopter, or the crushing feeling in her chest as she stood there next to Sam watching it take off with her heart in the damn thing, and only a slim chance, if there really was any at all, that he’d make it, or if he would take his last breath in the air. 

There it was again, that completely sickening, helpless feeling as her legs gave out from under her, and Sam caught her before her ass could hit the ground. She’d been through a lot. She’d seen a lot. She’d been hunting ever since she was sixteen years old, but she never, NEVER, thought she would see something as horrific as this. 

The last thing she doesn’t remember doing, is riding in the Impala while Sam drove them both to Akron General, but it was what the sign said as they climbed out of the car and ran inside the hospital, only to be directed to a waiting area with white walls and hard chairs. So, she assumed that was the name of the place. 

She vaguely remembered a nurse handing her a cup of water, and asking her questions about Dean, questions a wife would know, and honestly, she knew none of them, thankfully the nurse passed that off as shock while Sam answered and filled out questionnaire after questionnaire with trembling hands. If he was in as much shock as she was, he was holding it together well, because she felt like she was about to fall to pieces any second. 

After that, the nurses left, telling the pair that Dean had been taken into emergency surgery, and a doctor would be in as soon as it was over to talk to them. That’s where she found herself now. In a small, white room, with uncomfortable furniture, a sick stomach, and a chest that felt like it was about to cave in with every breath she took, and the most suffocating silence she’d ever heard in her life. 

Sam said nothing to her, he just sat across the room, picking at the blood on his hands while her mind tried to replay what happened in order to make sense of it all over and over again as the hours wore on, and she was pretty sure time stopped moving at all. It was maddening. 

“Shouldn’t they have come in and talked to us by now?” Y/N questioned after a while, the sound of her own voice making her jump. Honestly, it was barely above a whisper and she was so hoarse she didn’t even recognize her own self. How long had they been sitting there? 

“She said that they would come in and talk to us as soon as they were done,” Sam said, staring at her with a ghostly white look on his face. It made her wonder just what she looked like. Was she just as bad? Worse? 

“The damage was pretty extensive,” Sam continued, “they told me that his chances of even surviving the flight to the hospital were slim, so I can’t imagine what they saw when they got the rebar out of him. 

Y/N brought her hand up to her mouth to cover the sob that she could feel building in her chest, she’d cried so much that she was surprised that she was even able to cry anymore, but as the sheer shock started to wain and the exhaustion and stress took its place, it was honestly all she felt like she ever wanted to do again until she was able to see his face, cry. 

Sam swallowed so thickly that she could hear it across the room, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer than it had been a few moments ago. Maybe she looked worse than what she thought she did?

“How long?” he questioned, and she ran her hand down her face and released the breath she was holding as she stared at him in confusion. 

“How long what?” 

“How long have you had feelings for my brother?” Sam asked, a ghost of a smile on his face, and all she could do was look down at her feet as a deep resounding wave of grief overtook her again. 

“How did you know?” she choked out, unable to look at him fully for a lot of reasons. The main one being that her feelings for Dean had been what she thought was her best kept secret in over a decade. She’d been with them on hunts countless times, she always made sure she was so careful to not let it show, and then he had to go and almost die on them tonight, and suddenly Sam was able to read her mail as if she left herself wide open and ready for the taking? It was almost cruel and unfair. 

“I was pretty sure I noticed it the night we all met up on that Skin Walker hunt for the first time,” Sam admitted, and she blushed furiously in spite of the turmoil inside of her.

“Dean asked to buy me a drink and I told him my girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that because I was mad at him for flirting with the bartender instead of me,” Y/N laughed at the memory. Dean had thought for years that she actually had a girlfriend until Sam told him she was just dragging him on to get under his skin. In truth, she was just afraid to let him know how she really was feeling, she was afraid; she still was. 

Sam laughed to himself and ran his hand down his own face as his gaze drifted off towards the closed door. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean so jaded as he was that night,” Sam chuckled, “he sulked for days after that.”

“He just wasn’t used to being told no,” Y/N corrected him with a half-hearted smirk, and Sam laughed with a nod of his head. 

“Maybe so,” he agreed as his eyes found hers again. “So, since night one huh?”

She could only nod. What was the use of hiding it from Sam now? When the likelihood that she’d never get to tell Dean just how she really felt about him was greater than the likelihood she’d get to see him smile again, and that fucking hurt, that hurt bad. 

“Hey,” Sam said, catching her attention as she leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. She could literally feel herself trembling as she tried to hold it together. The longer she sat not knowing, the harder that got. Each second felt more excruciating than the last, and honestly, she was about to go hunt down some nurses for some answers. She couldn’t accept that the last time she’d see him alive was as he looked over Sam’s shoulder to stare at her while he drew his last continuous breath, she just couldn’t.

“Dean cared about you too Y/N/N, a lot, and if he had time, I’m sure he would have told you that before… before this. He asked about you all the time. He was the one who wanted you to come on this hunt with us, and I think it was because he wanted to see you.”

Y/N swallowed the sudden lump in her throat; looked away as the grief gripped her again, and breathed deeply as she could to keep herself from falling apart. She was just about to argue that there was no way in hell he gave a damn about her, when there was a knock on the door, and a man in scrubs stepped inside, along with a nurse tailing closely behind him. Y/N and Sam stood to their feet, and waited with their hearts on the floors as the doctor closed the door behind him. 

“Mrs. Clearwater?” He questioned, and Y/N made a mental note to thank Sam for putting a name down that Dean might relate to enough if he woke up to play along at least until they could get him out of the hospital. 

“Yes, that’s me, and this is Dean’s brother Sam,” she introduced them and the doctor reached out his hand, shaking her own as well as Sam’s before pointing to the chairs for them all to take a seat. 

“My name is Dr. Martin, I was the attending surgeon for Dean tonight,” he informed, and Y/N was sure she was visibly shaking from head to toe as she waited. 

“Is he okay?” Sam asked, his own voice shaking. 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Martin informed them, “And stable. But he’s not out of the woods yet, Dean has a long, LONG, way to go.”

If Y/N wasn’t sitting down, even though she didn't remember sitting back down, she was sure her legs would have given out from under her form the sheer relief that he’d survived the surgery as well as the transport to the hospital. 

“Dean, is a very lucky man, had that rebar entered his body a little higher, well, we’d be having a completely different conversation, and still, it’s a miracle he’s still here at all. There was a lot of blood in his chest cavity by the time they got him here. The reason I didn’t come out and talk to you while they were stabilizing and preparing him for surgery was because as soon as the helicopter landed on the heliport, his left lung collapsed completely. Had he not been where he was by the time that happened– again, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

“So, what are we looking at doc?” Sam questioned, Y/N could only swallow thickly, her voice failed her completely, and the doctor took a deep breath before patting Y/N on the back of the hand. 

“Hey, we’re not giving up on him, okay?” he attempted to reassure her. “The fact that he made it this far proves he’s a fighter, and we’re gonna do all we can to keep him as stable as possible while he recovers.”

Y/N could only nod, and Sam reached his arm around her to stabilize her as she swayed slightly in her seat. 

“I think she will feel a little better once she can see him,” Sam stated, “I think she’s still in shock.”

“Well, let me give you a run down of just what we’re facing, and then I will take you into our critical care unit where you can see him.” Dr. Martin reassured the pair of them, and she did breathe a sigh of relief and the promise of possibly seeing him soon. It did make her feel somewhat better that the next time she saw Dean, it wasn't going to be as a wrapped body prepared for a hunter’s funeral. 

“The rod didn’t hit any of his ribs on his left side but the force of the blow that impaled him to the pole in the first place was so hard that it fractured three of his ribs, the rod itself punctured his lung, and three of his vertebrae were also fractured. Somehow, and none of us really understand how, but no other vital organs seemed to be damaged, and the rod came to a stop before it could reach his heart. However, there was a lot of nerve and muscle damage.” 

Dr. Martin paused to make sure that the pair of them were still following him before he continued, that or to make sure Y/N wasn’t going to pass out, she wasn’t really. 

“I’m gonna dull this down to make it easier to understand, because, again, it’s a lot. Dean’s lung collapsed because of the large puncture wound created by the rebar, his left lung to be exact. I was able to repair the wound in the surgery once we got the bleeding under control, and I’ve placed some drain tubes to control the amount of oxygen in the chest cavity, as well as drain any fluid or remaining blood while he recovers. We run several risks just in this recovery, especially infection and pneumonia. I’ve got him on heavy IV antibiotics to help prevent that as well. Unfortunately, some of the muscle and nerve damage is something he’s going to have bad days and struggle with long after the recovery, but again, we are running a high risk of infection right now, and our goal is to keep him from bleeding anymore, or gaining an infection in the wound, internally or externally.”

“What about the three vertebrae that were fractured?” Sam questioned, “is he paralyzed, will he walk again?” 

“There is an impressive amount of swelling around the spinal cord because of the sheer trauma his body experienced, but the cord itself was not severed. He’s most likely unable to feel much from the chest down right now, but we’re hopeful that when the swelling goes down in a few weeks, that he will regain feeling in his lower extremities, and with a lot of rehab, because not only are we dealing with spine injuries, but also muscle and nerve damage, he’s going to have to spend a lot of time in rehab.”

Y/N didn’t know if she was relieved, or if she was more worried, and why the hell did it seem like this just kept getting worse and worse?

“Is he awake?” Y/N questioned; the doctor shook his head sadly. 

“No, I’ve placed him in a medically induced coma for several reasons. First, to keep him from even trying to move, because that could cause more harm than good right now, and if he tried to pull himself up with his arms for any reason, then he might tear some of the internal stitching, and bleed out. Also, his body has gone through a great deal of trauma. He was in a deep state of shock, he lost a lot of blood, and his body needs to recover. This is a way to keep him still, and keep his pain levels as low as possible, because if he were awake, his pain levels would be extremely high. I can assure you, it’s kinder right now to just allow him to sleep.”

Y/N looked down at her lap, and tried to control the wave of emotions that hit her in the gut. 

“How long will you keep him under?” Sam questioned, and the doctor let out a long, slow breath. 

“That kind of depends on him. I’m hopeful for no more than a week, and we can start to slowly wean him off. But right now, I assure you, he needs the rest. His lung needs to heal, and having him on the vent will help take the strain off. Right now, our biggest worry is infection. We don’t need him struggling to breathe, or be in excessive pain.”

The doctor stood, and so did Sam. 

“I’m sorry, I wish I had better news for the pair of you, but honestly, I can’t stress this enough, the man is lucky to be alive. He’s probably going to be in the ICU for a few weeks. But once he’s stable enough to move to a private room, we can start monitoring his recovery and Y/N will be able to stay in the room with her husband. Personally, I think he’s gonna need support when he wakes up, because this isn’t gonna be easy. Once he’s recovered, and is able, we will have him transferred to a rehab center to start his recovery. Right now, let’s just focus on getting him to remain stable, and past this window of infection, okay?”

Y/N nodded, so did Sam. 

“Okay, Rayne will take you to see him,” Dr. Martin said before bowing out of the door. “I will talk to you again soon, so will some of his other doctors and attendings, but I will be in as well to monitor his progress.”

So here it was, day one of the rest of Dean’s life, and hers, because Y/N made her mind up as they all boarded the elevator in route to see Dean, there was no way in hell she was leaving him and going back home. She’d stay and see this through until the end. No matter how long it took. No matter how hard it was. She was going to be there for him, whether he wanted her to be when he woke up or not. 

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#Carry On #dean winchester #dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester series #dean series #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #jawritter #jensen ackles

[firstelevens]

hi zainab!!!! 2, 3, 6, and 29 for the fic writer ask???

Hi Mak! Thank you for sending these in!

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

Yes, because I am absolutely my own biggest fan!

On a much more practical note, sometimes I reread because it's part of a series and I'm checking a canonical detail (although if it's in the Bake Off AU I'm better off just asking @sesamestreep, who is the official lorekeeper and knows that universe's canon better than I do.) Other times, there's a fic where I just really like what I did with a character's voice or the general tone of a scene and I'll go back just to get a feel for what I did the last time.

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I mean, the Bake Off AU has my whole heart and there's so much of me in it that it will always be special to me BUT!!! I really love the Thunderbolts-era epistolary fic counted days, counted miles because I think it's an exercise in me managing to show writerly restraint, which is a skill I'm still working on. (And also I got to come up with so many fun spy tricks for hiding letters; it was great.)

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

How fortuitous that you picked this question when I have reread wish that i could wind (like a spiral stair through time) FIVE TIMES in the past month. That fic is a work of art. I am also never far from rereading and never ever watch the ten o'clock news, which is Emma's phenomenal Psych AU of Rogue One which is just so wonderful and funny and it continues to hold up. Oh also! There's don't read the last page, which is a Brooklyn Nine-Nine fic that is short and sweet and just so warm and cozy and I go back to that one a lot just for the mood of it.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

Okay so this question reminded me that there's a 1200 word scene from the Formula 1 AU that was originally going to be the epilogue but got canned which SUBSEQUENTLY reminded me that there's a whole scene that I wrote for the Bake Off AU that got cut from Chapter 6 because things ended up going another way!

The beginning will looks familiar if you remember anything from that chapter, but then there's a sharp left turn that involves the lost plot point of Becca Barnes creeping on Joaquín's thirst trap and restaurant review filled Instagram in order to figure out where Bucky could go for dinner. I was sad to lose it tbh but the restaurant still made it into the fic as the place where Sam and Bucky go out on their definitely-not-a-date in Chapter 10.

A peek at the alternate timeline under the cut!

Bucky is starfished on his bed, trying to muster the energy to get up when his phone rings. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he opens one to peer at the screen. He only answers because it’s Becca, but he’s too tired to do more than grunt into the phone when he picks up.

“Good day, huh?” she asks, laughing when he just groans in response.

“Hope yours was better than mine,” Bucky says, when he finally manages to talk. “How’s day shift treating you?”

“I’m discovering that there’s this thing in the sky called the sun, and it provides light? And makes people happy? Do you think other people know about it? Should I be telling them?”

He laughs tiredly. “You can use all this newfound energy to make a TikTok about it.”

“I’ll get on that,” Becca says. “What about you? You okay?”

“Yeah,” says Bucky, bringing his hand up to his face. “I just need to lie down for a while.”

Not that lying down for the past half hour has helped, but he’s got high hopes for that sixty minute mark.

“No, what you need to do is eat something,” Becca says, sounding remarkably like their mother. “Tell me your head isn’t hurting right now.”

Bucky freezes, his fingers still pressed into his temples. “It’s creepy when you do that, you know.”

She laughs. “I know. Hey, why don’t you go to that place that you and Steve went to all the time, the one with the waffles?”

The last time Bucky had been there, four years ago, he’d spent the entire evening bickering companionably with Sam while Steve dealt with a work emergency. It had felt remarkably like flirting, and he’d even thought about asking Sam to get a drink sometime—and then Bucky had been eliminated after the next day’s Showstopper, and that put an end to that.

He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m tired, Bec, and they pick us up at like, six AM. I think I might just grab something from the convenience store.”

“Buck, I spend half my time listening to newborn babies cry and that is still the most pitiful thing I’ve heard this week. You are not eating yogurt for dinner alone in your hotel room.”

Bucky huffs. “Well, I’d grab a random stranger off the street to join me, but I’m not looking to get murdered today, Rebecca.”

He can hear the sound of Becca typing, doing the thing where she studiously ignores his asshole behavior until he comes around and starts acting a more like a person. It’s annoying how well it works. 

After a minute or two of typing and what he assumes is scrolling, she lets out a, “Huh.”

When he waits for her to elaborate and she doesn’t, Bucky sighs. “What is it?”

“Do you know a Joaquín Torres?”

It’s far from the question he was expecting but Bucky answers in the affirmative. “He’s a baking consultant on the show.”

More typing. “Does he have good taste?”

There’s a tiny, childish part of Bucky that wants to say no, because Torres is chirpy and bright-eyed and his unfailing enthusiasm is exhausting at times, but that would be a lie. “Yeah, he knows his stuff. Why?”

“He lives in Atlanta; he posts about a lot of local hidden gems. There’s a Tunisian restaurant a couple blocks from your hotel, apparently? Kind of looks like a hole in the wall but he says the food is amazing.”

“I don’t know, Bec. It’s late and eating out alone is depressing.” His limbs feel heavy, and his shoulder is starting to hurt from having the prosthetic on for so long, and he knows that food would make his headache go away, but he just can’t drag himself off the bed.

Like Becca knows what track his mind is on—and honestly, she probably does—, she chooses this moment to go for the knockout. “Come on, Buck; it’s my job to look out for you, and you’re too far away for me to drag you out to dinner and make sure you eat. Throw a girl a bone here.”

She’s too powerful for her own good.

Bucky drags a hand down his face, sighing again. “You know, I hear some people don’t let their baby sisters tell them what to do all the time.”

“Poor them,” says Becca.

“Poor them,” echoes Bucky, and asks her to text him the address.

When she does, he looks it up and realizes that it really is only two blocks away: completely walkable, even in Atlanta’s late spring heat, and only a little further than the convenience store where he’d planned to grab his apparently pathetic dinner.

It’s only when he gets to the door of the restaurant that he remembers it’s a Saturday night and he probably should have thought to make a reservation. The place only has a handful of tables to begin with, and they’ve all got people at them. The host already has an apologetic look on his face as Bucky walks in, but they both turn in surprise when they hear someone inside the restaurant call out to him.

“Bucky!” says Joaquín, as brightly as ever. “Come sit with us.”

Because the universe has a sense of humor, ‘us’ is of course Joaquín and Sam, who are having dinner together. Alone. On a Saturday night.

It can’t be a date, Bucky reasons. No one would invite a random acquaintance to third-wheel their date, right?

He realizes that he still hasn’t responded when the host assures him that of course they’ll be able to add another place setting to the table, and before he knows it, Bucky is being whisked over to their table.

Whatever mood had settled over Sam after the signature today seems to have dissipated, and he turns to Bucky with a grin on his face. “I hope you trust Torres over here, because he ordered way too much food for us and didn’t let me see the menu.”

Joaquín shrugs. “I come here a lot,” he says. “Not enough people know about it, but it’s amazing.”

“Which is why he’s on a mission to be their one-man marketing team,” says Sam. “We got here half an hour ago and he’s already posted on Instagram like, ten times.”

Bucky thinks of the sound of Becca on her computer as she’d talked to him earlier, how she’d pivoted from suggesting the diner he’d probably have ended up at to this specific restaurant, and suddenly, this coincidence feels markedly less like a coincidence.

He’d probably feel more annoyed about it if he didn’t spend the meal close enough to Sam for their shoulders to constantly be brushing. Torres is right; the food is great, but if anyone asks, Bucky’s pretty sure the only thing he’d be able to recount is how many times Sam touched his arm to ask him to pass things, or dished some more food onto his plate, or gently nudged him while telling Joaquín stories of their time filming season two.

When the check comes, Bucky insists on paying, to make up for crashing Sam and Joaquín’s dinner, and as they stand on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, Joaquín offers to drop them off at the hotel on his way home. He’s about to accept when Sam waves it off. 

“I think we’ll just walk back,” says Sam. “It’s so nice out, and the hotel’s probably closer than your car is.”

There’s a moment where all three of them silently commiserate over the trials of city parking, and then Joaquín says he’ll see them tomorrow and heads off.

Bucky glances sidelong at Sam, whose eyebrows are knitted together as he looks down the street towards their hotel. He can see the entrance from where they’re standing, but Sam gently touches his elbow and nods down the street to their left—the long way, Bucky realizes, a moment too late.

#bisamwilson #zainab does ask meme things #thank you for these Mak! #I had COMPLETELY forgotten that I had this little bit of the Bake Off AU lying around; I hope it's an entertaining what if

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Unfinished Sentences

A Ben Mendelsohn fic.

Summary: You’re a actor who’s known for your indie work, but when you get a job working for on Secret Invasion with Ben Mendelsohn as your partner in crime, things may get complicated.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 4

Ben was such a gentleman, he made sure you were happy and confident in yourself. He was far too good to you, but very good at making it seem innocent in front of the press. When you stood for the group photo, it made sense that you would be stood next to him, but what caught you off guard was his hand pressing very lightly into the base of your spine, just above your dress.

    You know he noticed your reaction, and you definitely noticed his. You could tell he was resisting stroking his thumb over your soft skin, because he would do it subtly, clear his throat and stop, repositioning himself.

    It felt like both an eternity and mere seconds before it was time for you all to move into the venue itself to finally watch the first episode together. Ben’s hand drifted down your arm as if to take your hand, but stopped. He was definitely about to hold your hand as you walked together, but you weren’t together, so he decided better of it.

    You both had a slightly disappointed look, but you needed to maintain yourselves for the time being, the press was still watching. You used both hands to hold your gold clutch in front of you, more to eliminate temptation than anything.

    Once you were inside, it again wasn’t unusual that you would be seated next to each other. So, that’s what you did, because everything needed to seem normal. Ben unbuttoned his jacket and waited for you to sit down before he did. His gentlemanly manner was shining through.

    You had Cobie on your other side, very much concerned with her husband, and Ben had Olivia with hers on the other side. You weren’t sure why you became aware of that, but something was telling you it was a dangerous thing to notice. You glanced around and saw Ben making the same observation.

    Another disappointed look between the both of you and the light began to dim. This would be a long hour.

    The show began and you were so proud of the work you’d created together, proud of Sam and Ben and Cobie for their performances. You were silently congratulating each other on a job well done. When Ben’s first scene came up, you couldn’t resist but look at him and smile. He had that bashful look half hating the attention, but you wanted him to know how proud you were.

    Something inside you told you it was a bad idea, but for some reason you decided to place your hand over his. You told yourself it was to make him feel the pride you had for him, but you didn’t take your hand away quick enough to convince either of you of that fact.

    You placed your hand back in your lap and heard him sigh next to you. You were warm and trying not to think about the fact that you were hidden in darkness and anything could happen, it was making you ache. You crossed your legs and tried to ignore the feeling that was building inside you.

    It was another mistake, because you managed to brush Ben’s hand that was draped over the arm of the seat. You cleared your throat, hopefully making it clear it was an accident, but secretly loving the feel of his hands on you.

    Another minute or so and you felt the tips of his fingers brushing your knee, you breathed deeply and slowly, trying so hard not to make yourself obvious to the people around you. Eventually his whole hand was on your knee, his thumb stroking you, his finger sliding under the hem of your dress, making clear what he really wanted to do. Your body was leaning more and more into his. That cologne he wore filled your senses and you turned your head slightly to inhale as subtly as you could.

    Suddenly the credits began rolling. Ben took his hand away and you felt like you’d been jolted awake. The haze of Ben had been lifted and you needed to pretend that you weren’t falling for your friend all over again.

    Everyone applauded and you both joined in, never once making eye contact with each other, it was too risky just yet.

    Soon, the theatre was emptying, and you were all heading to a party in some swanky hotel to celebrate a job well done. You stood and waited to leave the aisle behind Cobie. You could feel Ben behind you and if the contact had done to him what it did to you, then he would need a little cover to calm down.

    ‘You did a great job, Y/N.’ He said, quietly close to your ear. You tried not to stutter over your breath to no avail, he noticed.

    ‘You’ve seen nothing yet, Mendo.’ You whispered back, having no clue why you would shake the delicate ground you were both standing on.

    You heard him growl so quietly no one else would hear it, but it was him grabbing onto the back of the seat in front that had Olivia asking if he was okay.

    ‘Yeah, yeah, fine.’ He tried to laugh it off. ‘Think I was just sitting down for too long. Legs feeling a bit stiff, that’s all.’

    You couldn’t help but cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

    ‘Oh, you think that was funny?’ He once again growled close to you. ‘You’re swimming in dangerous waters, Y/N.’

    You knew his tone, he half loved the game you were playing, half hated it.

   Eventually you all made it to the party, and it was an unspoken decision made by the both of you to spend some time apart. The problem was that you could still feel his eyes on you, no matter where you were in the room.

    You danced with Kingsley, someone you hadn’t spent that much time with over filming, but enough that you knew you got on well. You laughed with Emilia who was so much funnier every time you talked. And you traded stories with Sam and Olivia. You noticed Ben was keeping out of the way, trying not to get too involved with you and it was probably a good thing.

    The hotel was beautiful and you felt like a real star, hanging out with the Marvel greats with a beautiful dress and drinking champagne on balconies.

    You took a moment to yourself outside and let the cool night air surround you. You hadn’t always been a champagne fan, but you’d been drinking enough of it to get used to the taste.

    ‘Well, well, well,’ Ben’s voice echoed from behind you, making you laugh and turn to see him sauntering out with his own glass of champagne. ‘What a pleasant surprise this is. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’

    God, this man could make you laugh. ‘I don’t know, where do you think you might have seen me?’ You folded your arms, turning to lean back against the railing.

    ‘I think it might have been in a dream once.’ His blue eyes attached themselves to yours, this really was a dangerous game you were playing.

    ‘A lot of that going around.’ You retorted, sipping your champagne, but never dropping your gaze.

    Ben breathed out a laugh and shook his head slightly. He took a few steps towards you and immediately that cool air was heated.

    ‘I thought we’d put all this behind us.’ He said, his tone was quiet though, not accusatory, just confused. ‘But I don’t know if I can. Especially when you look like that.’

    If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a hint of anger sitting in his chest, and from the way his jaw clenched, you knew you were right.

    ‘What’s going here?’ You frowned. ‘Just be honest, Ben, we’re both grown ups. Tell me the truth.’

    He sucked in a harsh breath and finally broke eye contact to look out at the dark city behind you. He looked back and clenched his jaw once again.

    ‘I thought I was over you,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘But I’m not.’ You felt your heart skip a couple of beats. ‘And I get the feeling you’re in the same boat.’

    You swallowed hard and let your eyes wander back to the party, sipping your champagne while you thought for a moment. He was right, all those moments, the looks you gave each other that didn’t go unnoticed and of course, the moment in the theatre where his hand drifted over your bare thigh.

    ‘Yeah…’ There was no end to the sentence.

    Ben nodded, his jaw still clenching, he was holding something back. ‘What do you want to do about it?’

    ‘I don’t know what we can do.’ You confessed.

    ‘Well, we have two very clear options,’ he said, moving to stand next to you, facing the view. ‘Either we cut ties and never see each other again.’ You felt yourself getting visibly upset by the idea, knowing he didn’t really want that either. ‘Or…’

    ‘Or we…’ You nodded, knowing where the end of the sentence was going.

    You were both quiet for a moment, thinking on the two options.

    ‘Look, Y/N,’ Ben suddenly said. ‘I know why you think we can’t be together, I know you think it’ll be stressful and I can be an erratic arsehole.’ You shook your head, it wasn’t the reason you didn’t think it was a good idea. ‘But I know you can’t stop thinking about that kiss… same as me.’

    You looked up at him, watching his jaw clench once more as he looked away.

    ‘It’s not why I think we can’t be together. And you don’t know what I think about.’ You said, almost a whisper. Ben’s darkened blue eyes snapped back to yours.

    ‘Tell me.’ He coaxed, gently. You shook your head, turning away. ‘Y/N, if you tell me…’

    ‘What? It’ll happen?’ You almost said it accusingly.

    ‘It could.’ Ben wasn’t even angry that you snapped, he just wanted to make peace with you. ‘Y/N, we could make it happen, if you want to.’

    You made sure to hold his gaze, as if checking if this was real.

    ‘Why don’t you think we could be together?’ Ben asked, directly.

    You sighed, finishing your champagne and placing the empty glass on a nearby table. You turned back to face the view with him. ‘Because I don’t think we’d be good for each other, and I’d run away. And I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you like that.’

    Ben just watched you for a moment. ‘We could be happy.’ He offered.

    ‘You can be happy with things that aren’t good for you.’ You countered.

    ‘We could be good together.’ He tried, making you laugh. ‘Seriously, I don’t think that dream you had is so far-fetched, I think it could come true.’

    ‘Oh, you’ve got Jason Sudeikis’s number, have you?’ You chuckled.

    ‘I… I could.’ Ben laughed with you. ‘Can I tell you what I want?’

    ‘Sure.’ You shrugged, knowing I wouldn’t change your mind.

    ‘I wanna kiss you again.’ He said, simply, making you stutter over your breath. ‘I wanna hold your hand at events and not be afraid to touch you in darkened movie theatres.’ You chuckled, lifting your head to see him giving you a beautifully darkened stare. ‘Right now, tonight, what I want is to take you back to my hotel room, ask you about all the things you like, do them and make you feel as beautiful as you look to me.’

    ‘Is that all?’ You half laughed, knowing that you were almost sweating with how warm he was making you feel.

    ‘That’s it.’ He said, simply. ‘Of course, if you’d like to make good on your suggestion from earlier, I certainly wouldn’t object.’ You frowned and he smirked. ‘You did a great job, but you hinted at an A game I have yet to see.’

    You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Of course, this man could make any situation hilarious and relaxed. Of course, he would make you laugh at yourself. Ben’s cheeks were red; he finished his champagne, setting the empty glass next to yours and leaned back against the railing, shoving his hands in his pockets.

    ‘That’s where I am.’ Ben said, still smiling, but with a hint of seriousness to it. ‘I want you, plain and simple.’

    You took a breath and looked over at him. God, why did he disarm you so easily? You bit your lip gently, figuring what the hell?

    ‘On one condition.’ You said, starting to make your way back inside.

    ‘Anything.’ Ben stood up straight, ready for whatever you were about to say.

    You face dropped slightly. ‘Don’t fall in love with me.’

    He tired with everything he had not to give himself away and luckily, he didn’t. ‘Okay.’ He whispered. ‘I won’t.’

    ‘Good.’

    You sauntered away, heading for the exit, not looking back to see if Ben was following, but having a good feeling that he was making it look like he was going in another direction, before getting in the same car as you, taking you back to his hotel room, and making love to you for as long as you would allow.

 Sam, Cobie and Olivia were standing together, watching you both from the corner of their eyes. At first, they were confused, you’d spent the premiere sitting next to each other, but then ignored each other for nearly the whole of the party. One conversation later and you’d left saying goodbye to everyone with a strange look of disappointment on your face.

    ‘So, what do we think?’ Olivia asked, sipping some wine.

    ‘Definitely a break up.’ Sam said.

    ‘Oh yeah.’ Cobie agreed. ‘We still think they were fucking during filming?’

    ‘Oh, hell yeah.’ Sam laughed. ‘Couldn’t separate on shoot days.’

    ‘Mm, I’m not sure.’ Olivia interjected. ‘I think they might’ve had something after the wrap party, but she’s been away from six months, hasn’t she?’

    ‘That’s true.’ Cobie swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘Okay, re-review: they got together after the wrap party, like, what? A one night stand?’

    ‘Definitely.’ Olivia nodded.

    ‘One or both of them wanted more,’ she continued. ‘And now she’s left him?’

    ‘Ben probably wanted more, he went to her.’ Olivia agreed.

    ‘God, that’s heartbreaking.’ Cobie said, suddenly feeling the sadness of it all.

    ‘It is, they’d make such a lovely couple as well.’

    ‘Okay, that I agree with, but I’m not sure about the one-night stand.’ Sam offered his opinion.

    They eventually moved on to other things and the two of you were forgotten. It wasn’t that they spoke about you for any malicious reason, they just wanted you both to be happy and it seemed when you were together, you both laughed constantly.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!  

#ben mendelsohn x reader #ben medelsohn fic #Ben Mendelsohn #rp fic

[wrenwinchester]

I need a supernatural/Psych crossover fic in which rebellious 16/17 year old Shawn Spencer meets follows Daddy's word as law 14/15 year old Dean Winchester and tries to help him loosen up a bit and be reckless, but Dean is having none of that, and spills to Shawn about being left to care for 10/11 year old Sammy by himself, and Shawn immediately knows he's telling the truth, but doesn't understand why this kid doesn't resent his father, or why they don't just up and leave, and of course by this point Sam and Dean both know that no one believes them when they tell the truth about hunting, and Dean thinks Shawn knows too much already. (Also during this time, Dean and Sam get invited over for dinner at the Spencer's more, and sent back to the motel with containers of left overs. Dean definitely questions it, but never aloud and always makes sure the containers make it back to Shawn.

Cut to 16-17 years later (around supernatural season

5-6, psych season 4-5) maybe Lisa and Ben era, the three of them take a road trip to Santa Barbara, a little family vacation, during which, Dean runs into Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer and while he remembers the kindness he was shown, he is nervous about said psychic portion in Shawn's job description. He's not sure if he believes that Shawn is psychic, he didn't exhibit any signs when they were kids, but Sam didn't either. (He pushes thoughts of Sam away, trying to enjoy his vacation with his family, though it doesn't feel real without Sam.) But everything seems to point to Shawn being a true psychic, but Dean is out of the business, and Shawn seems to be doing good work. Eventually of course, a supernatural case hits Santa Barbara, and Lisa tells Dean to take care of it, knowing he would never forgive himself if he didn't. And of course the police require Shawn's help on said case, and shenanigans ensue before Dean finds out Shawn isn't psychic, and Shawn finds out monsters are real (he doesn't entirely believe Dean, but after being attacked, he starts to, but he doesn't want to know more.) and then Shawn asks how long Dean's been hunting etc. Then the entire vacation Shawn and Dean have been dancing around the where's Sam conversation, Dean not wanting to talk about it and all, and finally, Shawn asks straightforward, "Where's your kid brother?" And Dean just gets this look in his eyes, and Shawn knows. Not the extent, or circumstances, but he knows. And he just says, "he was a good kid, he's in a better place now." And Dean just shakes his head. "No. He isn't." Tearing up like that one scene in season 4.

End scene, and we cut to Lisa, Ben, and Dean in the car, probably not the Impala, because I don't see Dean driving it during that year without Sam. And it's late, Ben is asleep in the back seat, and Lisa is giving Dean his space, looking out the window as he drives.

And we see Dean practicing his smile for her and Ben, hiding just how much emotional pain he is in.

And cut to black.

Also, on another note, Shawn and Dean are why each other wears jewelry. Dean was wearing the samulet and older students were making fun of him for it behind his back and around Shawn and Gus, so Shawn started wearing his jewelry and people stopped teasing Dean, not that Dean ever knew about it, but still. And when Dean saw Shawn, he started wearing more (his bracelets, even other necklaces but he quickly loses those, being they're easy to grab onto by attackers/ monsters. and we get Shawn and Dean from their respective pilot episodes. (Shawn doesn't wear jewelry as much, at least not visibly, but still.)

#dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #spn #the winchesters #fanfiction #the winchester brothers #fiction #Shawn and Dean are the same person in different fonts #Shawn would so become Dean’s role model and big brother goddamn it all. #shawn spencer #burton guster #psych #lisa braeden #ben braeden #why am i like this #sorry not sorry #if i have to suffer so do you

[ytptennis]

How do you think Munch lived before? Where did he live? Where does he sleep? I wanted some details, because I'm trying to write some kind of fic and I'm not that good at it, what do you think? Where was he before Roy hired him? I wanted to write a fic without all the erotic stuff that part of the fandom does, I want something more serious, about his trajectory. So, I wanted some ideas: did he live by breaking into houses? Did he live on empty plots of land? What was he eating? What did he do on a daily basis? Where does he get cigarettes and so on? Sam said that the idea is that he doesn't carry things with him, because he's the kind of guy who when he needs to, grabs a gun, a cigarette and so on. Like the scene of him picking up the cigarette from the ground, what did he do before? What kind of jobs was he taking? Just kidnappings and murders? What do you imagine? Has he had other "Irma's"? Where did he break in and stay quietly in the person's house? Where did he sleep in the meantime? I would like some insights, I am grateful for your headcanons.

all great questions!! under the cut since my responses are kinda long:

so according to munch in the finale, he doesn't need to sleep. we can assume his curse has left him biologically frozen in time like a vampire. i think he was still able to rest & eat, but they dont actually serve any real purpose. he's not restored afterward nor would he suffer when deprived of those things. he closes his eyes, but he doesnt relax or dream. he eats, but it just disappears inside him. this makes it tricky to pinpoint why exactly he's a smoker, though. if i had to pull something out of my ass real quick, i'd say its an easy way to confirm his own existence, like how we can see our breath when its cold, or when we hold our hands close to fire. it becomes addicting to him in that sense, rather than his body needing nicotine itself. he wouldn't respond negatively to cigarettes at all, but because tobacco just generally stains anything it's in prolonged contact with, that explains why his teeth are so tarnished.

as for jobs, i genuinely think he was a drifter in every sense of the word. he has an innate need for creature comforts so i think his quests to find those things lead him to kill-or-be-killed situations. money is also a tricky topic bc idk what it'd mean to him apart from a sign that the completion of a job has been acknowledged & properly compensated. he didn't seem to care about roy's money once he acquired it. my guess is, in relation to your "irma" question as well, that he leaves money where it's most needed. he clearly gave some to her when she returned to the house with groceries.

munch might have acquired firearms by brazenly attacking organized crime circles or just stealing off of criminals. i think he'd be efficient & quick enough that the murders would just be reported as internal conflict.

i don't see him as a vigilante but i also don't think he'd just hurt people indiscriminately. he's had centuries for his hatred of the rich to fester, & he's very clearly disturbed by the deaths of innocents re: irma. i understand this is kind of a conundrum where dot is concerned, but again, it's represented through a cycle. munch maintains it by allowing himself to be employed by the powerful to secure that throwaway money. all he knows after being hired by the tillmans is that a rich man wants his wife back, whom he probably assumes is also rich, like bunny lebowski. it's only after he sees how hard dot fights back that he questions the nature of the job.

i think munch has had other "irma's", but not recently. i said this in a previous post, but i think every once in a while back in the day he'd stop by a rural family's home & offer to help them out for a bit in exchange for food & board, which he only took advantage of for a couple of days out of fear that his presence would somehow attract danger. again, this is less of a need to satisfy biological hunger & more about his hunger for companionship & family. losing that which he found in the indigenous tribes that invited him in left him very hesitant to seek it out anywhere else. fleeting moments are better than none at all. something else to dwell on is him assigning irma as his temporary "mama". from this we can infer 3 things:

he misses having a mom, & he wants someone to take care of him. obvious.

calling her his "mama" might be a way of apologizing for scaring her. awkward, yes. ineffective, yes. but the title suggests purity, hardship, and the respect owed to a mother who exhibits those things. another example of his innate connection to women.

he suggests it casually, showing he doesn't feel guilty for breaking in. this interested me for a bit since it makes him partly responsible for irma's death, but the more i thought about it, it makes sense because he is aware of his own power, power he wasn't employing to bully. in exchange for her charity, he promised to protect her. this made her death that much worse & undoubtedly stirred past trauma.

there's also the question of his sudden need for a mama. what about the dot job made him that lonely or scared? my theory is that the kin connection to dot was sparked during their "battle". he didn't know how to respond to it, especially considering this woman was briefly his victim. he figured he could seek an outlet somewhere else, but somewhere incedentally close to dot, in a house in the suburbs. his ability to "know people" must've told him that irma was not one of the suburbanites. she is ignored, her house is falling apart, etc. this is presumably why he didn't break into a more well-off house.

when he doesn't want to go through the trouble of bothering people, he'd most likely find uninhabited homes or buildings to squat in. the little hut in the beginning of episode 9 intrigued me, but nothing about it suggested it was owned by him. it might just be a shed used by ice fishers. it made me think of the one wrench & numbers used in s1 to keep warm.

as for what munch does in his spare time, there's nothing in the show to really drive me in one direction or another, so i like to think he reads. finding books without the use of a library is not uncommon (those little free libraries where ppl leave books for others to take). plus he can just steal & then leave them somewhere when he's done. i like to think reading is how he learned to speak english, even way back in his early years.

#💌 #fargo fx #ole munch

[necros-writing-stuff]

You have real talent in writing, so thank you! Okay so i was playing DoL, and there was this scene where Bailey showed up at Alex's door to demand payment. I thought maybe.. Just maybe we could have like a scene of where eden is so worried about you that he goes around asking numerous people and finally find out you're staying at alex. Which leads to him showing up at the door, jealous and demanding you to come home (you can make this fic however you want babe! If you want eden to drag you or not, it's all in your hands. I just thought it sounded kewl and i would love to see alex and eden interact, especially with how alex is aswell)

I absolutely hate cheating and implications of it, so I hope you don't mind if I write this as Alex and PC are friends and Eden's misjudging the situation? I also don't know Alex all that well, so sorry if they come off as OOC. I still want to state that my old rules still apply for these quick asks, no school LIs, no Leighton, Briar, Remy, Sirris, Sam and no focus on Wren or Alex. They can be side characters, sure, but I don't do them as mains.

Anywho, here's how I think it would go, warnings for Eden being a bit violent, past noncon, gn reader.

It had been weeks. Nearly two months since you'd up and disappeared from Eden's bed. He doesn't understand, doesn't see why you'd want to leave - much less without telling him. He's been worried sick, scouring the forest for scraps of your clothes or a broken collar. He found nothing. So he begrudgingly entered town, waving around a drawing of you at any who were brave enough to look his way. No one knew you.

It wasn't until he ran into Bailey that he got what he needed.

"They're out at some farm," the caretaker had said in between puffs of their cigarette. "Shacked up with some ginger kid, milking cows and all that shit. Still has to pay me, though, I won't let them off that easily."

Eden wasn't happy making the trip out there. Was not happy at all when people would pull their cars over and whistle at him like a dog to get his attention. No, he didn't need a ride, thank you very much. He really should have brought his gun.

It's late by the time he makes it there. Lights are on inside of the farmhouse, some more in the barn. He bids his time, watches and waits to see where you are. Eventually, your face pops up through the kitchen window.

You don't expect a knock at this time of night. The door isn't locked, Alex can just walk in. After dealing with all of the bullshit from Remy lately, you make your way to the front door slowly, taking a kitchen knife with you.

There's a peep hole in the door, one you glance through but can't see properly who it is. They're too tall, you're only getting a shoulder. They're stood way too close to the door. It's not payment day, either, so not Bailey.

Every instinct you have goes off. Something isn't right at all. You back away as quietly as you can, heading for the back door and hoping to run to the barn before they can tell you've gone. Your heart is frantic as you step outside, leaving the door open as you peak around. You can't see them from where you are, but it doesn't seem like you've been spotted.

Knife still in hand, you run to the barn as quickly as your legs will take you, blood rushing through your ears as you do.

"Alex!" You whisper-yell as you push on the barn door, only to find it locked. There's loud chatter going on inside, your friend yelling at someone on the phone. It sounded heated.

You try to yell louder, checking behind you to see if the new person has noticed you gone yet. The coast is still clear. But your voice isn't. Its almost like someone has their hand around your neck, pushing down and stopping any proper sound coming out.

There's a familiar unpleasant tingle running up your spine, one that tells you you're being watched. You still don't see another person around as you pathetically try the door again.

You don't know when he got so close. Didn't know he'd left the door at all. Not until a hand covers your mouth, dragging you away from the door and against a large body. You know the scent, it haunts your nightmares still even after the time you've spent away from that cabin.

"Running to your new husband, are you?" Eden snarls, venom spitting from each word.

You try to shake your head, try to deny what he's accusing you of but he holds on too tight. Would he be more or less upset if you told him that, thanks to him, you can't even kiss another person without wanting to cry?

Whatever kept your throat stuffed before seems to disappear as you scream beneath the hunter's hand. Your legs thrash, your arms trying to do the same but getting easily pinned by his arm as he lifts you and begins to drag you away. One kick hits just the right spot on his shin to make him hiss, Eden cursing and throwing your body to the ground.

Your lungs become a vacuum in space, no air to help you scream as you lie there in pain. In your dazed confusion, it takes a second to register the feeling of rope around your wrists. Just like the first time he took you.

But if you can just yell. If you can just get Alex's attention, you could escape. There's that chainsaw there, in the barn. Eden doesn't seem to have his gun.

Feeling nauseous, you gather your courage and scream louder than you ever have before. It's cut off short by the back of Eden's hand colliding with your cheek, the sting making your eyes water.

Alex's argument stops immediately. Wooden creaks ring through the night as the dogs start barking in the kennel.

Eden picks your tied body up with little care, hauling you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the forest once more. He makes promises to himself, promises to you that you'll never leave him again. Not after all of the care and time he put into showing you how much better life with him was.

"I know you were just confused," he insists, a firm hand stopping your legs from wriggling too much. "I know you're too stupid to know what you're doing half of the time. It'll be alright, you just need to be trained again."

He's making his way across the stone walls in front of the house when Alex rounds the cottage itself, yelling for him to stop, to let you go. He doesn't listen, because why would he? One look back tells him the kids unarmed. Besides, if those dogs get out he'll need the head start.

Eden hops the wall, breaking into a sprint as soon as he's over. He doesn't look back again, doesn't listen to any of your insults. He just runs, runs right back to the only place he feels safe. The only place you should feel safe.

(Now whether he makes it back? I'll leave that up to you dear reader).

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #alex the farmhand #'nw abduction' #'nw grapefruit' #'nw dv' #gn reader

[ksfoxwald]

Fire and Hemlock Readalong: Part 3 Chapter 4

There's a LOT of ground to cover here, so let's go!

Polly returns home to Granny, who calls Ivy out on her bullshit. Children don't have a lot of context for the way adults act, but we're seeing with the quartet and now with Granny that there are now adults saying that the way Ivy treats Polly is not okay, and that starts to make it more real.

Granny decides that she is going to get custody of Polly in a decidedly "warlike" manner - so we have another female hero in some ways, another way of women to be powerful besides imitating men (Hero) or using sex to control men (Laurel).

We also see the return of Seb, this time with a camera. Polly already has two significant photos from the House, and Seb's may or may not be considered a third. Laurel, it seems, prefers music but does like the arts in general, as several of her other conquests have been photographers, though whether Seb is aware of this is unknown.

Photography is an interesting motif because it's a way of capturing an image that is supposedly true, but as we've seen with the shifting nature of the Fire and Hemlock photo, that is not always the case. It's another blurring of real/unreal like Nowhere.

Granny, strangely, encourages Seb's crush on Polly, though Polly herself is dubious, at first not realizing what Seb wants and then feeling uncomfortable about it. Perhaps Granny is compensating for her earlier hostility toward Tom. Or perhaps she sees him as less threatening because he's closer in age to Polly, but he's like sixteen to Polly's twelve, which is still highly questionable. In fact, when Polly finally does manage to tell him off, that's exactly what she says. "Go away and don't come back for a year! I'm too young!"

At school Polly performs in Twelfth Night, another classic crossdressing story, and Nina is going through an activist phase like any good queerling. It's a bit heroic of her, honestly, and yet another way she parallels Polly. The girls also manage to meet Leslie at Town Hall as they had arranged earlier, and though we don't learn much, we do establish that he and Seb know each other and that he has a "broken home of some kind." I guess your dad pretending that your mom is actually his sister in order to hide from a Faerie Queen can be considered a broken home.

Meanwhile, Polly finally manages to compose her Epic Novel about Nowhere. Interestingly we do get a mention of a bit where "Hero herself became a king's daughter who had to run away from home because of the machinations of her beautiful but evil girl-cousin," a trope which I earlier noted seemed conspicuously absent but fits with her unconscious dismissal of women as heroes. The whole novel is very tropey, because she is fourteen. Tom's response is the iconic:

Sentimental drivel.

In a way this is also one of the pictures from the House coming true. One of the rejected pictures was of a knight praying at an altar; Polly suggests he might be a trainee-hero, and Tom says it's "soppy." In any case, we've known Tom has Opinions on this sort of thing since the beginning.

The scene we get as an example is of Tan Coul getting wounded in the shoulder, and Hero having to dress the wound, while admiring the "smooth, powerful muscles rippling under the silken skin of his back."

Polly's latent sexuality is emerging in this scene, though she's still only comfortable expressing it in her imagination and not in reality; Her reaction to Seb kissing her is "What a funny thing to do! What do people see in it?"

But every teenager knows that there is a huge difference between a hurt/comfort fic starring your self-insert OC and a clumsy teen boy who, as Granny puts it "When he's noticed there are other people in the world besides himself, there might be no harm in Master Sebastian."

Polly is furious at Tom, demanding an explanation, so he sends her a very vivid description of normal human backs by way of Sam. But it's not until Polly goes and talks with Ivy, who has a new lodger and blames Polly for all her problems, that she realizes "there were ways of thought that were quite unreal, and the same ways went on being unreal even in the hero business."

This is a very fundamental part of Diana's writing. In her essay "Two Kinds of Writing" she describes part of her process as being "Now what would really happen [to these real people] in this situation?" (the situation being crashing a spaceship in an alternate world in order to seduce ascetic monks, because of course it is. Go read A Sudden Wild Magic if you can get your hands on it, it's bonkers even by DWJ standards).

But this also reminds me of current Discourse in fantasy circles about "realism," because it usually comes down to "it's not realistic for people to be brown or queer in a medeivalesque setting" vs. "if you can accept dragons why not queer people or people of color?", I haven't seen much talk on defining what "realism" means for fantasy, and what purpose it serves. Because fantasy is about making up situations, but the people should still behave like people, and that means there will be queer people and people of color and people with a variety of backs that most definitely do not look like silk.

Tom, of course, has an agenda here, because the things they make up work better when they are rooted in reality. Their magic is in many ways a metaphor for the creative process (see also Diana's novel Hexwood, which is in many ways a metaphor for the editing process) as well.

Perhaps seeing Polly with the quartet also reframed Tom's concept of their relationship, because he's pulling away again. He does not come to Twelfth Night - which is ultimately a romance - but he does come to Sports Day, which is part of Polly's hero training and thus puts her back in the safely nonsexual category of "boy/child assistant." Still, he does not stay and talk, leaving only a postcard with a drawing of himself as a kangaroo before the quartet sets off on a tour of Australia.

"He thinks I'm just a child!" Polly said angrily. "Well you are," said Granny.

Polly seems to have forgotten her "I'm too young!" to Seb; or perhaps does not see any connection to her relationship with Tom; or perhaps is simply experiencing the Nowhere state of being a teenager as constantly too-young and too-old all at the same time.

#fh readalong #fire and hemlock #dwj

[reinarandraw]

"Why do you cut your hair?"

OFMD Rare Pair Week 2023 @ofmdrarepairweek

Day 07:   Free Day [Art + Fic 700 words]

The reason why I draw my old Sam Bellamy with short hair instead of long hair. It can be seen as a missing scene for The Last Voyage.

Ao3 link [HERE]

You can click read more and read it here!

Izzy had been working as Sam's first mate for a while now. He really enjoyed working for the man because he was always clear with his direction and goal. He valued Izzy's input and never dismissed his concern. He never played guessing games or played tricks on him. Izzy liked how Sam could separate business from pleasure. Sex didn't have any real effect on their professional relationship. Izzy really appreciated how structured Sam was so ready to do anything to help Sam.

One thing that he was required to do was cut Sam's hair. Sam had thick straight hair that would be a hassle if he kept it long. Well, Sam used to have his hair long. Edward also had long hair and beard, but he was an outlier. Izzy respected Sam's decision to keep his hair short even though deep down he thought long hair really suited Sam. He remembered seeing young Sam - pre Whydah - and his glorious long black hair. That was how he got his nickname Black Sam. Sam Bellamy and his long black hair.

He wondered how Sam would look now with longer hair. The man had a peculiar gray hair pattern that was concentrated on his bangs. Sam's hair was also strangely healthy and soft despite the fact they were on a pirate ship. Izzy really enjoyed running his fingers through Sam's hair during sex. It felt like silk.

Would Sam be even hotter with his long hair framing his face? He tried to imagine Sam leaning to the bulwark as he pushed some loose hair strand away from his face. Izzy found himself hot and bothered by his own imagination.

So one day, when Sam asked him to cut his hair, Izzy dared himself to ask him a question.

"Why do you cut your hair?" 

The question caught Sam off guard. "For practical reasons. It's hot here and I don't really want people to know that I'm still alive."

Fair enough. "Long hair didn't bother you much when you were young."

Sam took a moment to think about how to answer that. Sam tried not to keep any secret from Izzy. He seemed reluctant to do it. There must be a good reason for the hairstyle change. 

"Three things," Sam suddenly said. "First, to make me less recognizable. Second, hair loss. Long hair is making me lose more hair.  It became gradually worse over time. I don't think I can pull a bald look like Paul. Would you still like me if I'm bald?"

"Shut up," Izzy snorted, smiling.

"And third," Sam continued, "I can't tell you. It's between me and the sea."

Although he was still smiling, there was something melancholic in Sam's eyes. The palpable sadness tugged something in Izzy's chest, making him want to protect this man from any harm that would come his way. 

“It’s not like I don’t trust you,” Sam continued. “It’s just…”

“Yeah, ok,” Izzy cut him. If Sam wanted to keep it a secret then it was his choice. He could take care of his captain without knowing all his secrets. The fact that Sam allowed him to cut his hair was enough to prove that he trusted him. “When do you want me to cut your hair?”

It wasn't until that time Sam told him about the dark days he had after Whydah that Izzy finally learned Sam cut his hair during one of his breakdowns. His long hair reminded him of his failure. His once pride and joy now brought him terror to his heart. He blamed himself. The guilt tormented him. Sam cut his hair to help him get through the guilt of being the only survivor.

"Do you like me better with long hair?" Sam asked one day when Izzy was cutting his hair.

Izzy's put the scissors away. "Would you like to grow it back?"

Sam didn't say anything at first. "I don't know."

Izzy put a hand on Sam's shoulder and leaned down to kiss Sam on the top of his head. "Do what you want with your hair. I don't care."

Sam snorted. "Even when I go bald?"

Izzy chuckled. "Yeah. I bet you're still hot with a bald head."

Sam reached out to touch Izzy's hand. "Thank you, Israel."

Sam probably wouldn't grow his hair back anytime soon, but who knew? Maybe one day, when the wound had healed completely, Black Sam would have his long beautiful hair once more.

#ofmdrarepair23 #bellhands #sam bellamy #izzy hands #and that's a wrap! #i won't stop my Bellhands agenda until we got Sam Bellamy in canon #or maybe I'll just continue day dreaming about this dreamy man I created for Izzy lol #thank you for omfdrarepairweek mod your tag made me smile

[chrisodonline]

Finale Spec/Wishes, pt. 1

Not sure what else to call this. Also, this is mainly G related because, well, duh. It’s me. There would be other stuff for other characters, though some of that IS mentioned.

I just need to get some of this typed out so I stop thinking about it and risk just adding on. (Lolz. Me? Going on too long? LOLZ.) 

It’s a mix of “What I could see happening and either like/don’t mind and have accepted” with the occasional “This would be a DREAM come true.”

I have no idea who all would even be able to come back, either, but well. It’s early yet. 

Also, not formatted in any special way because there’s a lot of dialogue that’s not official dialogue so I’m not about to make this so many more paragraphs longer than it should be. 

Again, not a fic. Just rambling. 

Also, I am breaking it up because it is clearly going to be ridiculously long. Even for me. So this is just part 1. (For the two people who might read all of it.)

Stuff that would have to happen in the third to last episode:

There’s a case, sure, but who cares or pays attention to that.

The episode begins with Callen having set a date for the wedding and letting everyone know. Kensi gently points out most people send Save the Dates. So Callen starts writing the information on a post-it note, and Sam stops him. Tells him he needs to get some real invitations printed. G: “I think this is more personal, though.” Deeks: “I think those are actually Kensi’s post-its that made their way onto your desk.”

Callen promises to get something more professionally printed.

Penultimate episode:

More formal invites have been printed and people are starting to get them. Case stuff case stuff case stuff. Villain of the week is pretty icky and sociopathic, which makes Kensi and Deeks reflect on all the “monsters” they’ve had to deal with. Kensi says it’s hard, but she also is glad she gets to be one of the people to help get those monsters put away. Even if they don’t always stay put away. Deeks knows she’s talking about Kessler. He mentions the body stitchers and how being in the field makes you have to face the worst of it. Kensi agrees that’s definitely a drawback. She looks at him, again, and he’s clearly been thinking about something. She asks him what. He doesn’t want to share just yet, but she tells him there’s nothing he can say right now that’s worse than what they had to deal with today.

Deeks admits he’s been looking at opportunities at the base in San Diego. There has been some turnover since people are starting to retire, and, unlike people who retire from OSP, they actually will stay retired. Kensi, “Opportunities? Like what?” Deeks: “Well, keep in mind we’d be limited to really dealing with base matters or more behind-the-scenes analytical matters.” Kensi asks if he wants to leave LA and OSP. Deeks says he just wants them to look at it and consider it. Kensi could get a job instruction/training if something more up her alley is available right away. It would be steadier, even if in another town, but still a day trip from LA. Kensi says they’ll talk about it more later. Deeks, “I just don’t want to keep facing psychos and risk collecting more enemies that can hurt us. Our family.” Kensi reiterates they’ll talk about it.

Callen is arriving home, he greets Anna. Anna hands him a card that came for him in the mail. He opens it, and it’s a “Congratulations” card. Anna, “Someone must’ve gotten their invite. Who is it?” Callen’s confused, “Not sure.” He opens to the card to read it: “My dearest Callen, Imagine my surprise to learn that you’re getting married. Looking forward to the wedding and seeing you again. - Janiver”

Callen drops the card, and Anna asks what’s wrong. He just looks at her, freaked out. Episode ends.

Finale:

Kensi’s in the shooting range. Deeks comes in, asks how long she plans to stay in there. She’s gone through dozens of rounds already. And this was after she woke up early and did intense cardio. Kensi says she’s just doing what’s needed to stay good at her job. Deeks offers, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Janvier’s card, would it?” Kensi keeps shooting. Deeks, “Or with what we talked about. Or with how that first thing I mentioned is making that second thing seem like something we should really be talking more about.” Kensi stops shooting.

Kensi says it’s just a reminder that Kessler is still out there, and if Janvier is a threat again, it would be a lot. The latter killed coworkers and was involved with getting Deeks tortured, and vowed to come back and hurt them all. She understands where he’s coming from. Deeks, “Well, that’s good.” Kensi, “No, it’s not good.” Deeks, “What’s the problem.” Kensi, “It’s bad because  you’re right.” Deeks, “I’m not sure how to take that.” Kensi, “I mean, I know you’re right. It makes sense. San Diego. I just wish you weren’t right.” Deeks, “Again, I love you, but I am not sure how I’m supposed to be taking this.” Kensi just looks at him, almost near tears, “I wish leaving OSP wasn’t the right thing to do. Because I don’t want to do it.” Deeks, “We don’t have to. We’re not even guaranteed spots. They might be iffier about spouses working together, so we may have to be--” Kensi, “No, that’s the thing, Deeks. We do have to.”

Sam is pacing near the door. Rountree and Fatima are at their desks. Fatima, “How long has he been pacing? Should we worry?” Rountree, “I don’t know. He’s not usually a pacer. He’s usually a ‘punching bag is my fidget toy’ guy.” Fatima nods. “Maybe you should go check on him.” Rountree just eyes her. Fatima, “Better you than me. Go.”

Rountree approaches Sam. He asks Sam if he’s okay. Sam just shakes his head. “It’s not okay. My partner is an idiot. And  he called when he was about half an hour out, so he should be here soon.” Rountree, “Are you worried something’s going to happen to him before he gets here, like with the Katya thing?” Sam just stops. He looks over at Rountree and stares. “Well now I am.” Rountree apologizes. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Sam just nods. “He better be fine. It’s gonna be a lot harder to yell at him if he’s injured or doesn’t make it here.” Rountree’s eyes widen, things just got awkward, and he slinks away. He looks at Fatima, “Tag, you’re it next time.” 

Callen walks through the door. Sam stares at him. Callen cracks, “Hi, honey. I’m home.” Sam just glares more. Callen sighs and starts walking. Sam doesn’t let him get far. “You shouldn’t have gone alone. It could’ve been a trap.” Callen shakes his head. “That’s exactly why I had to go alone. He always threatened to go after all of you first. If it was a trap, you would’ve been in more danger than I was.” Sam, “Then why not take someone he might not know, like the rookies over there.” Callen, “You really want to put them on his radar? No. It made sense I went alone. You’ll be happy to know, he is still very much locked up.”

Sam nods. “That’s good. Any idea how he found out?” Callen shakes his head, “None. He did claim that he just felt it in his heart. So maybe he just wanted to screw with my head.” Sam, “Right. It’s just mind games, G. He’s locked up. He’s not a threat. I told you this.” Callen notes that he probably still has connections, so we don’t really know that. “I’m not chancing it. I’ve already talked to Anna. We’re changing the wedding date.” Sam looks shocked, “You’re what?” Callen explains that they’re going to push it up and just have a smaller ceremony than planned, which he has no complaints about. He’s hoping sooner rather than later gives anyone who might have something planned less time to even find out when and where it’s moved to.  Sam asks when the wedding is. Callen explains they’re not sharing the exact date, time, and location until it’s much closer. Sam is super annoyed with this. Callen says, “Look, just keep the first full week next month really open. All I’m saying.” Sam, “That’s just weeks away.” Callen nods. 

#z rambles on #ncisla spec #part one