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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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Cats 1986 (and Others) vs. 2016

A post I made a few months ago comparing information gathered from interviews with different Cats casts has come up again recently and I’ve heard even more interviews since, so I want to add on to that a little and elaborate on the things I’ve already said.

CW: Some of the language regarding Demeter’s backstory is a bit darker than I’ve previously mentioned

So, I’ve now heard interviews from US Tours III, IV, and V, spanning from 1986 to 2012. They’re all Broadway-based, and the Broadway Revival went in a very different direction, but the three tours were all very similar to each other.

In both the tours and in 2016, the cast was sat down before rehearsals to hear the “story of Cats”. However, this meant two completely different things. The Tour casts were told the plot of the show, who their characters were and what they were meant to be doing. The 2016 was told the story of how the show Cats was created, how ALW had the idea and made a show out of it. No mention of the story and characters. This means that the Tour casts were given useful information for building their characters, while the 2016 cast got something that was interesting but did nothing to help them do their jobs in the present. More emphasis was put on the show’s legacy than on how to actually perform it. Trevor Nunn did the 2016 explaining, I believe, and it sounds like he was on an ego trip, talking about what he did instead of what the cast was supposed to do. Trevor Nunn is one of the few people who knows how the show works, so this is quite frustrating.

Though the Tour cast was given a whole story, most of them only remembered the perspectives of their own characters. The point of learning the plot was so that they knew what they were doing. It wasn’t supposed to matter to the audience. So, everyone mainly focused on their own jobs. But, everyone knew Demeter’s backstory, because it was the first thing they were told and it caught their attention. It almost became a meme that the first sentence of the plot was “Demeter was raped by Macavity”.

The story begins with Demeter having just escaped from Macavity. He kidnapped and raped her. Though she didn’t want it, she kind of enjoyed the sex, which messed with her head quite a bit. Bomba went through the exact same thing, but because she enjoyed it, she acts like the whole thing was nothing more than an annoyance. The two react to the same situation in different ways.

Jacob Brent was either given a toned down version of the story (he mentions kidnapping, but not rape), or he chose to give a toned down version to avoid the uncomfortable subject.

The 2016 knew that Macavity and Demeter had some sort of backstory, but they weren’t very clear on exactly what happened. They decided that they’d had an abusive relationship, but that the whole thing was consensual and there was no kidnapping, because the only element of this story that the audience can pick up without context is that there was some sort of sexual relationship between Macavity and Demeter, but she’s now afraid of him.

At least one cast member said that Macavity was a rapist, but she didn’t elaborate.

This messed with Demeter’s character far more than anyone expected. The rape element honestly isn’t necessary. Demeter and Macavity had some sort of sex, but it could’ve been consensual, with Demeter enjoying the sex but hating the man. That’s actually what Gillian Lynne seemed to have implied in interviews. However, the kidnapping part of the backstory is important, because it establishes the connection between Demeter and Grizabella. While hiding from Macavity, right before the story begins, Demeter sees Grizabella on the Bad Side of Town. Due to not being a Jellicle before this night, she doesn’t know who she is, and therefore has no bias against her. She just sees this woman living on the streets, humans wondering aloud why she isn’t dead, and felt sympathy for her.

So, when Grizabella appears at the ball and everyone hates her, Demeter wants to intervene, but she doesn’t want to upset her new friends. She came to the Jellicles for protection and is afraid of them rejecting her for siding with their enemy. Still, she tells the tribe what she knows about Griz, possibly trying to convince them to be nicer to her, but it doesn’t work and Demeter just starts following the crowd.

The lyrics Demeter sings, by themselves, are musical exposition that doesn’t imply sympathy. A line like “You’d really have thought she’d ought to be dead” sounds like it could be played as an insult. The words can either mean “I’m surprising the poor thing’s still alive in her condition” or “Why can’t the bitch fuck off and die already?”. Without the context of Demeter’s backstory, Kim Faure picked the latter, when with the context, it’s clearly meant to be the former. So, Demeter’s delivery of her lines in Glamour Cat in 2016 is venomous, almost sadistic.

Later on, towards the end of act one, 2016 Demeter reaches out to Grizabella like she does in most other versions, despite the earlier delivery. What made her change gears? I have no idea.

So, there was a lot of insight on Demeter. She’s the character with the most detailed backstory, making her the closest thing the show has to a protagonist.

Another character that gets a lot of attention, as he demands, is Tugger. Many Tugger actors were interviewed. I think he’s the favorite character of the host of the podcast. Different Tuggers from different eras responded to certain topics differently. Tuggers from the 1980s were unaware that Tugger was commonly interpreted as Not Straight and that Tuggoffelees is a thing. But, the more recent the show their from, the more they’re aware of and interested in the topic. The Tour V Tugger joined very late, during the last few years of the tour. He had access to the internet and could see what the fandom was up to. He played Tugger as ambiguously bi and, though he hadn’t thought of it at the time, liked the idea of the Tuggoffelees pairing. Tyler Hanes, 2016 Tugger, was the only one interviewed who played Tuggoffelees on purpose.

Tyler Hanes was very interesting. He watched the 1998 film while preparing for the role and didn’t seem to like it very much. He wanted his version of Tugger to be his own and avoided taking inspiration from any other version. John Partridge’s Tugger and Hanes’ Tugger being so different from each other might’ve been deliberate.

But, the choreography is what really messed with Tugger’s character. The host of the podcast mentioned Tugger’s pelvic thrusts and Hanes said that he wanted to do that sort of thing, but the new choreography removed all of it. He couldn’t make Tugger as horny or sexy as he wanted to. It was a key part of the character, but the choreography just wouldn’t let it happen. The result is that a bunch of queens fangirl over Tugger, but because Tugger’s defining trait in his number is being vain and obnoxious, the reason why he, of all toms, is considering the sexiest is completely lost. He’s just a dick to everyone (except Misto) and they love him anyway.

Other Tuggers do act like assholes during the number, but it’s not the focus. The lyrics are about Tugger being difficult, but the choreography, often to a comedic degree, isn’t about that. The message of Lynne’s choreography is that DESPITE Tugger being obnoxious, he’s a sex god and that’s what matters to his fans. Blankenbuehlers’s choreography mainly focuses on Tugger being obnoxious, which is a better match to the lyrics, but it makes the character less likable.

Also, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The two most sexualized numbers are Tugger’s and Macavity’s. Tugger’s number is about a man being sexy. Macavity’s number has two women being sexy. Blankenbuehler redid Tugger’s number, toning down the sexuality, but he left Macavity alone completely, so it’s as sexual as it always is. Male sexuality needs to be toned down, but female sexuality is fine. This is what happens when a woman is replaced with a straight dude. I doubt it was done on purpose, but there was definitely some subconscious bias going on there.

The way the casts talk about the two choreographers is also different. Both of them are treated as the experts on the show, more like how a director is normally treated. But, how well they filled that role varied. Lynne could explain what every single move meant. Those who worked with her knew exactly what they were doing. Nobody has ever described any of Blankenbuehler’s choreography with the same detail. In numbers in 2016 that Blankenbuehler left alone, even without Lynne present at all, everything was clearly explained. Skimble actors, since Skimble’s number wasn’t altered much, describe people who’d worked with Lynne talking them through the choreography. No one talked about Blankenbuehler’s work like that. Every move of Lynne’s Jellicle Ball apparently represented something. Blankenbuehler’s Jellicle Ball looks fine, but there isn’t that level of detail.

The rehearsals of the the choreography were paced differently as well. 2016 was apparently put together in something of a hurry. Most Cats rehearsals begin with several days of the cast studying cats and learning how to move like them. 2016 devoted only a few hours to this. Gillian Lynne reportedly visited a rehearsal and was upset the none of the dancers knew how to move like cats. Cats has unique choreography in a unique cat-like style, but the 2016 team had no time to practice it, so they often come across as a bit too human. They’re talented human dancers, but they’re not very cat-like. Blankenbuehler’s choreography is often in a different, more modern urban style, that doesn’t seem like it was done with cat-like movement in mind.

I don’t hate Blankenbuehler. In behind the scenes stuff, he seems like a nice guy that the team liked working with. But, I don’t think he really understood what his role was. He was a choreographer and he did choreography. This would’ve been fine, even great for any other show, but not Cats.

Most modern musical theatre is based on opera. Characters sing about their feelings and that tells the story. The added element of dance takes the feelings of the song and amplifies them. The actors are emoting with their entire bodies in a larger-than-life way that creates an emotional intensity that audiences can empathize with. The music makes the audience feel what the characters are feeling in a way nothing else really can. Music is kind of magical. You hear a certain melody with certain instruments, and suddenly you’re happy, or sad, or angry.

This, by the way, is why going for realism in musicals is a terrible idea. Musicals don’t exist in physical reality. They exist on an emotional level that realism takes away from.

Cats rarely works like opera. The lyrics are mainly just adaptations of whimsical poems, so they don’t tell you much of anything. Memory, which features original lyrics and no dancing is an exception to this rule. In general, because they’re not dance roles, Grizabella and Old Deuteronomy have to use music and song lyrics to play their parts in the story. Jemima also does this whenever she does something connected to either one of them.

But, Cats is normally more of a ballet than an opera. Ballet tells a story purely through dance. Because the lyrics in Cats matter so rarely, it ends up working like a ballet, because the dance, unrelated to the poems, means something. It’s still a heightened reality where music invokes emotions and actors emote with their whole bodies, like in other musicals, but instead of the dance being an amplifier, it’s the storyteller.

ALW really liked a bunch of poems and wanted to put them to music. The result was a bunch of songs with a similar them but no real connection to each other. That works as a concept album, but Webber wanted a musical, an actual show where people danced to his concept album. He didn’t care about the story and didn’t expect anyone else to.

But, other people cared about the story. No one knew how to make a musical that’s not about something. Trevor Nunn added Memory and the storyline with Grizabella as an emotional centerpiece. There wasn’t a clear plot, but, on an emotional level, it now felt like something was actually happening. Gillian Lynne had no idea how to choreograph a musical about nothing, so she didn’t. She came up with her own interpretations of things and made the show about something. Several somethings, in fact. Victoria is going through puberty and discovering her sexuality. Demeter is recovering from an abusive sexual experience, with Bomba having a different attitude towards being in the same situation. The women in the story were given detailed story arcs that often revolved around their sexuality.

How sexuality is portrayed in Cats could be its own essay.

Anyway, Cats tells its story with a unique style of choreography. Because the choreographer is the story teller, Lynne had a lot of influence over the show. She was the one who knew all the details. Blankenbuehler was brought in to choreograph a show, like a normal job for him, not knowing what that would actually mean. He came in to have dance amplify the emotions in the song lyrics like in any other musical, not knowing that that’s impossible to do with Cats. The role of choreographer meant a level of knowledge and control that would normally belong to the director, composer, and lyricist. He didn’t realize that the show having any story at all depended on him.

So, he did stuff that looked cool, but didn’t tell the story, or that took the story in a direction that it wasn’t supposed to go. Tugger dancing in front of a giant mirror is funny in the moment, but that sort of narcissism, though funny, isn’t likable, and Tugger needs to be likable. He’s a major character and he helps save the day at the end by hyping up Misto. But, 2016 Tugger hypes up Misto because if feels like Misto is the only cat he truly respects. He has the same respect for Old Deuteronomy that the others have, but he doesn’t sound quite as sincere when he sings about him. He spends so much of his number antagonizing Munkustrap in particular that it’s hard to believe that he has any respect for him.

What can be learned from these interviews is that Blankenbuehler didn’t know what his job truly was and was there because someone important thought Cats would be more popular in 2016 if it was more like Hamilton and got the Hamilton guy to give it a make-over. Nunn was so proud of the show’s success that he neglected what made it successful in the first place, and the 2016 cast was rushed through rehearsals without proper instructions. Everyone tried their best, but they were all stuck.

For the most part, I blame whoever decided to have Blankenbuehler rechoreograph the show. Blankenbuehler did what he thought his job was and the cast did their jobs to the best of their ability. What really ruined Cats 2016 was an executive decision to fix something that wasn’t broken, believing if they made the Old Big Show more like the New Big Show, that would make people love it again. But Hamilton is no more like Cats than a cat is like a dog.

#cats 2016 #lots of cats tours #really long post #andy blankenbuehler is bad at cats #but it's not his fault #a cat is not a hamilton #gillian lynne #don't let her legacy die with her

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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Here’s another story from the universe of my novel What Hindered Love. That book was told completely from Chloe’s point of view, but I have several unpublished scenes from Micah’s point of view. Fittingly, this is Micah’s version of what happened on Valentine’s Day when Chloe thought he was hooking up with another woman.

Summary: Once an addict, always an addict. Especially when wires get crossed on Valentine’s Day. Luckily, all Micah has to do is use the code word “busted,” and his friends are there.

Tagging those who might be interested: @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @ilovemesomekillianjones @snowbellewells @kday426 @onceuponaprincessworld @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @bethacaciakay @branlovestowrite @xhookswenchx @thislassishooked @sherlockianwhovian @ultraluckycatnd @flicialy23 @harshini0

Anyone else who wants to be tagged for WHL content, please just let me know!

Spoilers for the novel, obviously, so it’s below the cut:

Micah Barrett should have known that his attempts to ignore the fact that today was Valentine’s Day were doomed to failure. Because if there was anyone he knew who would celebrate such a saccharine holiday with childlike enthusiasm it would be Amanda Swisher, the culinary arts student he was training to be his baking assistant. Oh, and he and Amanda had to report to work at 5 am to construct a cake. Shaped like a castle. With turrets. For a wedding proposal. So yeah, there was that.

He wasn’t surprised to hear Amanda crooning Carrie Underwood’s “Cowboy Casanova” as she whipped up batter, but he would have expected her to forgo the traditional Valentine’s colors. Since her hair was flaming red on its own. But no. Amanda had boldly donned a frothy pink dress topped off with a white cardigan covered in tiny pink and red hearts. Her hair was up in a ponytail, per Micah’s own code in his kitchen (he always shuddered to see all that hair dangling over bowls of batter on Cupcake Wars), but she had used a bit of red tulle to tie it back.

“You’re a walking Whitman’s sampler,” he muttered when he saw her, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Aw, don’t tell me my mentor, my Yoda of baking, is a Valentine’s Grinch,” Amanda teased back.

“Well, they’re both green, aren’t they?”

Amanda just chuckled good-naturedly and rolled her eyes as she slipped the first pan of batter into the oven. Part of the reason he had picked her for the internship, aside from her brilliant fondant work, was her demeanor. He could be charming, but perky he was not. Especially when stressed over an order, particularly the intricate kind they were constructing today. Amanda’s enthusiasm and positivity was a good balance for his intensity.

Micah looked over the sketches of the massive cake they had to construct. Multiple tiers, multiple levels, three different flavors of cake, four different fillings, not to mention it had to look like a castle, complete with turrets. Their client wanted his girlfriend’s engagement ring sitting on the balcony of one of the turrets. Looking over everything now, Micah thought he may have gotten carried away with his brainstorming.

“This girl better say yes,” Micah muttered as he got to work.

“Oh, she will,” Amanda sighed dreamily, “I mean, it’s a fairy tale proposal. They must really be in love.”

“Stop!” Micah yelped when he noticed the container in her hand.

Amanda startled and checked the label. “Baking soda? Oops! It was sitting right by the powdered sugar. Silly me!”

Micah narrowed his eyes at her. Amanda was a little airheaded perhaps, but she was always careful in her work. Something was up, and he had a feeling he knew what it was.

Hours flew by, and Micah had the main portion of the castle constructed and awaiting Amanda’s magic with icing and fondant. He had the first turret constructed as well but was having difficulty with the balcony meant to hold the ring. Cake was light, and he was worried about the narrow turret holding that kind of weight. Simultaneously, he had a batch of Italian meringue going. With his hands full constructing the turret, he called out to Amanda, who was whipping up raspberry filling.

“Hey, turn the mixer down on that meringue, would you?”

Simultaneously, Micah’s cell phone rang, and Amanda snatched it up, “Hello, Micah Barretts’ phone!”

Micah thought to himself that he needed to tell Amanda not to answer his phone like an over-exuberant sixteen year old, but for now, there was the meringue. Micah laughed, shook his head, and gestured towards the mixer. Amanda squealed as she saw the meringue whipping way too fast and giggled, reaching for the mixer’s switch as she continued her distracted conversation with whoever was on the phone.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

In her distraction, Amanda flipped the mixer’s switch to high. Meringue flew out of the bowl. Micah was surprised when laughter spilled out of his mouth. Must have been Amanda’s influence. Meringue splashed across his eyes as the turret on the cake-castle started to tilt.

“Amanda! Get over here!”

Micah couldn’t see with the meringue in his eyes, even though he was still laughing. He heard a plop and a muffled curse from Amanda, and then she was beside him.

“Quick, brace it with some pillars,” he instructed, relieved that she knew his kitchen as well as he did. He hated using pillars – they screamed 1980s – but what else could they do? Amanda rescued the turret before the cake could crack by slipping two plastic pillars under the balcony portion. She then wet a towel and began gently wiping the meringue from his eyes. Once he could actually see, he took in Amanda’s appearance. She was similarly covered in meringue, and they both dissolved into laughter. They’d been at this since five am, so it was no wonder they were punch drunk.

“It’s all in your hair,” Amanda gasped.

Micah groaned and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the meringue smear through it. It must have made him look quite the sight, because Amanda dissolved in a fresh fit of giggles. Micah stuck his head in the sink and turned on the tap. When he straightened, rubbing his wet hair with his fingers, Amanda was lifting his cell phone carefully by two fingers from the depths of the bowl of raspberry filling.

“Micah, I am so sorry.”

He took the phone from her carefully, futily attempting to wipe the sticky filling off with paper towels. “Josiah’s gonna kill me,” he groaned. “This is my third phone in six months.”

“You make a habit of dropping phones into your baking?”

Micah shrugged. “Or leaving them too close to a burner on the stove. Who was the call from anyway?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch anything they said.”

Even though the phone was still sticky, Micah pushed the on button. Nothing. He sighed. “It’s ok, Amanda. It wasn’t your fault.” He took the bowl of filling over to the cake layer he had waiting on a cake stand.

Amanda returned to rolling out her fondant and sighed, “I think it was my fault. I’m very distracted today.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the contractor who redid the barn, would it? What was his name again . . . “

He was teasing her, actually. He remembered the man’s name.

“Eric. His name’s Eric.” Amanda blushed enough to match her hair, which was answer enough. “Maybe. We’re going out again tonight.”

Micah paused in spreading raspberry filling and turned to look at Amanda with mock concern. “Third date? On Valentine’s Day? What are this guy’s intentions?”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled as if pleased with his concern. “Calm down, big brother. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s . . . sweet.”

“I’ve never seen him at church.” Five years ago, Micah never would have expected to be grilling someone about a potential suitor’s church attendance. But Amanda volunteered in the nursery at Community Fellowship and sang back up in the praise band on occasion. Her faith was important to her.

Amanda waved off his concern. “He goes to the Baptist church on the other side of town. But, he’s not exactly plugged in there, so he said he might visit Community Fellowship with me sometime.”

“Does he sing or play an instrument?”

Amanda laughed, “You and Hannah always trying to recruit people to the praise team. No, he isn’t musical at all. But he says he loves my voice.”

Amanda blushed again and a dreamy look came over her face. She hummed a little as they continued working, but inevitability she turned the romance talk towards Micah. He was surprised it had taken her this long, honestly.

“So, Micah, do you have any special plans tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s a hockey game on tonight,” he answered dryly.

Amanda stopped what she was doing to turn towards him, a hand on her hip. “Micah, I have never seen you date, and it’s not right.”

“Why? I have my business, my son,” my former addiction he silently added. Getting clean and staying clean was a long, difficult process, and it was something few could understand.

“Yes, you’re successful, you’re a good father, you’re a good guy. And well, you’re no Eric, but you’re still not bad on the eyes.” Amanda flicked flour teasingly at him to punctuate her point.

“Oh, I can’t disagree with any of your points,” Micah teased back with a quirk of an eyebrow, “but perhaps I simply haven’t found the right woman.” Chloe’s face floated before his consciousness, but he tamped it down.

“Tina would say yes if you asked her out. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Micah scoffed, “Not my type.”

“But Hannah and Kate told me you have a thing for blondes.”

Only one. Kate and Hannah knew that full well, too, but Amanda was too naïve not to read more into it. Micah straightened from his task carving the cake layers into the shape of the second turret and rolled his shoulders back. “Can we change the subject?”

Amanda may have been naïve, but she had also worked with Micah long enough to pick up on his moods. She made a comment about needing music to work and reached over to where her iPod was docked. When Carrie Underwood’s voice started crooning, he groaned.

“Amanda, what have I repeatedly said about country music?”

She chuckled, “Just teasing.” She switched it to the grunge station and Micah sighed happily as Pearl Jam thrummed through the speakers. “Although why depressing, angst-filled music makes you feel better, I’ll never know.”

Micah tilted his head to the side as Eddie Vedder sang She lies and says she’s in love with him, can’t find a better man, and thought Amanda had a point.

“Actually, you can turn it back. Carrie Underwood’s not so bad.”

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

Micah parallel parked his truck into a space outside The Daymark, spotting Chloe’s car a few spaces ahead. Good, she’s still here. He’d replaced the cell phone Amanda had ruined yesterday, and he was glad he didn’t wait until Monday. Chloe’s voicemail sent relief flooding through him, but her text message . . . that had left him equal parts baffled and confused. He pulled it up to read one more time.

I haven’t heard back from you. I’m surprised because this is – you know – important? I’m meeting with the lawyer at The Daymark tomorrow at noon, and I’m hoping it’s all good news. Not that you care. You know, since you’re ignoring me?

Micah could understand Chloe feeling ignored. She was right, it was important news. And she didn’t know his phone was ruined. But if he was reading between the lines correctly – and he usually was where Chloe was concerned – she was upset with him about far more than that.

But he was here now to fix that. As soon as he’d gotten both messages, he had frantically checked his watch and raced to the diner to try and catch Chloe before she left. It was already two, so he had fully prepared himself to miss her. The sight of her car was a beautiful one.

Micah headed down the sidewalk and into the diner, inwardly rehearsing his apology. His eyes found Chloe immediately, and the sight froze him in his tracks. Her head was down, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. The man across from her held her hands in his, thumbs brushing over Chloe’s knuckles in an intimate gesture. No wonder she was still here two hours later; this wasn’t a business meeting, this was a lunch date! Feeling foolish, Micah turned and headed straight back out the door. He thought he heard Chloe call out after him, but he wasn’t sure. And even if she was, he was too humiliated to face her.

Micah made his way quickly back to the truck, pulling out of his parking space blindly. He was lucky the street was empty. Adam Murray. How could he have been so stupid? The guy was exactly Chloe’s type, and a successful lawyer to boot. Not to mention they had been spending quite a bit of time together.

Micah’s leg started to throb like it hadn’t in years. He pulled over and took several deep breaths, kneading his leg hard with his left thumb. He tilted his head back and thought over all the ways he had learned to deal with the pain: exercise, meditation, prayer, his music. But he knew this pain was more mental – okay, emotional – than physical. So was the desperate desire to numb his pain the way he used to.

With trembling hands, he lifted his phone and hit Ryan Newton’s contact number. When his friend answered, he paused for a moment, and then with a shaky breath, said, “Busted.” He felt a little silly saying it – the code word was Ryan’s idea, though Micah wanted to call it something like “Screw-Up or “Family Disappointment” – but he had to admit he was glad he could convey his need without a lengthy explanation.

“Okay,” Ryan said without hesitation, “I’ll gather the troops. My place is full of rugrats. What about Beau’s man cave?”

“Negative. They’ve renovated it into a kid’s room.”

“Oh right, the adoption thing.”

“My place is fine. I’ll order us a pizza. You just call everyone. Is six good?”

“Yeah, but Logan and I will be there by five. You gonna be ok until then?”

Micah rubbed his leg; the pain was a little more bearable, but more importantly, his urge for pills was gone. “Yeah, but about Logan –“

“Micah!”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Call Logan. See you at five.”

Micah hung up and slammed his palm hard against his steering wheel. Once an addict, always an addict. How many times had he heard that in rehab? He just really wished he was a stronger man. Maybe then Chloe wouldn’t be on a date with someone else.

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

Ryan showed up promptly at five with a six pack of sodas.

“The good thing about your two best friends being a pastor and a recovered alcoholic is they don’t mind swinging back a few Cokes instead of beer,” Ryan quipped as he headed to the kitchen.

“What else have you got there?” Micah asked, gesturing to the plate in Ryan’s hand.

“Homemade chocolate chip cookies via Maggie.”

Micah grinned and grabbed a cookie and a soda just as Logan let himself in. “I come bearing turtle brownies!” he announced, frowning when he saw the cookies. “You guys better eat these too, or Rose won’t let me back in the house.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Micah said, polishing off his cookie and reaching for a brownie. “The hockey game doesn’t start until 5:30, but the pre-game stuff should be on.”

Logan snatched the remote from Micah’s hand. “Not so fast. We need to talk about how you used the code word. Before Josiah and Beau get here.”

Micah groaned and fell back against the couch, running both hands through his hair. “Crisis averted, guys. Can we just leave it at that?”

“No, we can’t,” Logan said firmly. “That’s the whole point of me being your mentor, remember? Now what was your trigger? Emotional? Physical? Stress related?”

Emotional. He really didn’t want to get into this. But Ryan and Logan were both patient men, and the silence dragged on. “Chloe, okay. Are you happy?”

“Is this still the Scott thing?” Ryan asked across the kitchen island.

“No, he’s dropped that, thank God.”

“Well, that’s great news!” Logan enthused, slapping Micah on the knee. Micah thought about how Logan and Rose were the ones who introduced Chloe to Adam and suddenly had the irrational desire to punch his friend.

It fell quiet again as his friends waited for him to elaborate. “Chloe told me she was meeting with the lawyer today at The Daymark, so I thought I would stop by there. It wasn’t a meeting – it was a date.”

“And that bothers you?” Ryan asked.

Micah chuckled and craned his neck to look back into the kitchen where Ryan was leaning against the island. “Yes, it bothers me, Pastor Ryan. I’m a PK, remember? I know when you’re shifting into counseling mode.”

Ryan chuckled and made his way into the living area. “Sorry, then I’ll shift back to friend mode.” He plopped down into the recliner in the corner and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why don’t you just tell Chloe how you feel?”

Micah shook his head and looked down at his feet. He thought for a few minutes before looking back up at R

yan. “As much as I’ve hurt her, all I really want is for her to be happy. Adam is a good guy, so as much as it hurts . . . I can’t get in the way of that.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes, and Micah could tell the wheels in his head were turning. “Maggie and Chloe have gotten close, you know. I can’t say any-“

Micah held up one hand, “No need to explain. If anyone understands pastor confidentiality, it’s me.”

Ryan nodded once. “All I’ll say is, I still think you and Chloe need to have an honest talk.”

“When she has a shot at something better?”

“Wait a second,” Logan cut in, “who says Adam is better?”

“He’s never broken her heart, for one.” Micah sighed with relief when the doorbell rang. “That’ll be the pizza.”

He rose from the couch and addressed his two best friends as he walked backwards towards the door. “You’ve successfully talked me down off the ledge, so operation successful. Can we now drop the subject of my non-existent love life?”

Being men, they both shrugged and Ryan picked up the remote to turn to the game. Micah sighed with relief as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket and turned towards the door. His busted leg no longer throbbed with phantom pain. He had an arsenal of solutions at his disposal to deal with that kind of pain.

His busted heart was another story.

#what hindered love #my novel #my book #micah barrett #micah's stories #busted heart #shameless self promotion

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adobe-outdesign · 6 years

Text

Before the studio went to hell, it was rumored that Shawn Flynn and Wally Franks were an item.

(Note that I don’t speak Irish. I’m relying on Google Translate, and we all know how accurate that is, so apologies to anyone who actually speaks Irish if this makes no damn sense.)

Wally woke up on the couch to a headache and the smell of something cooking in the other room.

Blearily he stood up, motivated primarily by the delicious scent wafting towards him. Further investigation revealed Shawn, still wearing his ink-stained work clothes from last night, standing at his stove and stirring something in a frying pan. The other man looked over as he stumbled in, adjusting a dial on the stove face. “i was wonderin’ when you’d wake up. Almost was wonderin’ if you were dyin’ of alcohol poisonin’, given how much you were drinkin’ last night.“

Wally stared blankly at the clock on the wall, his half-asleep brain trying to decipher the time. He settled on it being about 11 in the morning. “Not that I’m gonna complain if you��re making breakfast, but why are you here?“

“Because you passed out in the alleyway last night and I had to drag your sorry ass back here.“ He dropped his voice slightly, noticing Wally wincing at the volume. “And I didn’t want to be leavin’ you alone during the night, so I camped out in your spare room.“

“Wait, you stayed here the entire night just for that?” Wally asked, pulling out a chair at what was passing for a dining room table and rubbing his eyes. “Well gee, thanks. Hey, I’ll do something in return as a favor. Seriously, just name it.“

“Put on some clean clothes,“ Shawn said bluntly, setting a plate full of eggs and sausage in front of him. “You smell like cheap alcohol and bodily... fluids“.

“No offense, but you don’t exactly smell like a spring daisy either,“ Wally pointed out, biting into a large forkful of eggs.

“And where do you be expectin’ me to be getting fresh clothes from?” Shawn asked, taking a sip from a cup of coffee he must have made earlier. “All of my clean clothes are back at my place.“

‘‘You can always borrow some of mine! I mean, you know, if you need to,” Wally added, realizing his tone might be a bit too excited. “They might be a bit on the big side, but you can always roll up the sleeves if you need to.“

“You sure you don’t mind?“

“Nah, not a problem! Anyone who makes food this good is a friend’a mine.“ He swallowed his lack forkful and waved the utensil in Shawn’s direction, grinning.”You plannin’ to go anywhere later tonight?“

“No offense or anythin’,“ Wally said, taking off his cap to rub some sweat off his forehead as he observed the floor in front of him, “but are you trying to make my job harder?“

“Your job’s a walk in the park compared to mine,” Shawn replied bluntly, setting down his brush. “We’ve got more stock than we know what to do with right now. We need to be focusin’ on selling what we got, not making more dolls no one wants, but Mr. Drew won’t be haivn’ any of that..” Shawn waved his hand towards the pounding assembly line behind him and the massive inventory of toys.

“Oh! But speakin’ of things no one is wanting...“ Shawn ducked down to rummage under the workbench, and Wally leaned into to try to catch a glimpse of what he was doing.

“Sounds promising.“

“Here we are!“ Shawn sat back up, holding a Boris plushie in his hand that wasn’t covered in ink. “The... what’s the English word for the súile-?” He motioned towards the head of the plushie.

“The... face?“

“No, the other whatchamacallit.“

“The snout?“

“That one! The snout’s a bit off on this one, but I still be thinking it looks nice. So here.“ He held out of the plushie and Wally took it eagerly, squeaking the middle.

“Well hey, thanks a bunch! Look at this guy!“ He held it up to the light, giving it another squeak. “Joey really wouldn’t like it?“

“Mr. Drew once redid an entire cartoon just because the animators weren’t drawin’ Bendy’s eyes quite to his likin’.”

“...I guess I can’t argue with that.“ He gave the plushie a final squeak and tucked it under his arm. “But I mean, his loss, right?“

“His loss, my gain. You’re owing me now, by the way.“

“C’mon, that’s not fair!“ Wally objected, but he was smiling. “Fine, fine. Whadda you want?“

‘I was thinkin’ we go to a bar and ‘hang out’”. Shawn pushed his foot against the desk, leaning back in his chair to survey the others in the toy shop, making sure no one found their thinly-veiled date as suspicious. “Friday after work soundin’ good?“

“Sounds swell! Now if you don’t mind, some sap spilled a bunch of ink on the floor that I gotta clean up,“ he teased, grabbing his mop.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.“

Shawn made sure to spill more buckets of ink after that.

“So how’d you play poker, anyway?“

“Use your cards to score points.“

“Thanks Shawny, really helps me out.“

“Not’a problem.“

“You have two cards in the middle, see,“ Grant extrapolated. “You want to take those cards and make a good hand out of them using the community group of cards. Whoever has the best hand gets the winnings.“

“Isn’t gambling like this kinda’, you know, illegal?“ Wally asked, picking up his hand and frowning at it.

“Don’t worry your little head about it. It’s allowed as long as we’re just using chips instead of actual scratch,“ Shawn pointed out.

“If you want to see actual gambling, you can always drop in on one of Grant’s casino games,“ Thomas said gruffly, lighting a cigar.

“Hey, hey, hold on. Now it’s not gambling as long as you know you’re going to win.“

“That’s because you’re countin’ the cards, you cheating bastard.“

“You can’t prove that, now can you?“

Shawn muttered something presumably explicit under his breath in Irish and grabbed another card. A few rounds passed in relative silence. Eventually Wally leaned over, flashing his deck at him. “Is this a good hand? I’m confused,“ he whispered.

“So are you two seeing each other or something?“ Thomas interrupted abruptly. Wally pulled away from Shawn and sputtered a few startled objections.

“Who wants to know?“ Shawn challenged, eyeing him. Thomas only shrugged, not looking up from his hand.

“I couldn’t care less. Just something I heard through the grapevine is all.“

“You should be careful now,” Grant offered, not taking his eyes off his cards. “You know how Mr. Drew will react if he catches wind of this.“

“He won’t be finding out,“ Shawn objected, looking over his own cards, then throwing them down on the table triumphantly. “Full house! Pot’s mine!”

“Nice try, but no.“ Grant swatted his hand away and tossed his own cards on the table, revealing a straight flush. Shawn swore again under his breath and threw down ten dollars, Wally looking on in confusion.

“I thought you said this wasn’t gambling?“

“I lied,” Shawn replied bluntly.

Wally opened the door, stumbled to his couch, and dropped Shawn onto it with considerable lack of grace.

“Hold on, lemme get you some ice or something.“ Shawn uttered a thank you as Wally disappeared into the tiny kitchen, returning with a bag of frozen carrots. “Okay, so I don’t exactly have any ice, but hey, they say carrots are good for your eyesight, right?“

“That was terrible.“ Shawn laughed, grabbing the bag and slapping it onto his left eye none too gently.

“Seriously, are you gonna be okay? That’s a nasty shiner.“

“Eh, it’s just a black eye, not’a big deal. The other fellow was in worse shape.”

“Yeah, but... look, I’m not normally the one tellin’ people to hold hands and sing kumbaya or anything, but you really gotta be more careful.“

“Aww, I’m touched. But you have’ta teach people like that not to be messing with you, or they won’t stop. Something I learned a while ago.” Shawn sat up a bit, flinching in pain. “If you’re that concerned, you could go an’ get me some more carrots for my back. The big bastard really did a number there.“

“On it! Take your shirt off, I’ll be back in a jiffy.“

Shawn obliged, throwing the slightly bloody button-down onto the back of the couch. Wally returned a moment later, eyes immediately focusing on Shawn’s exposed chest. “Uh, we didn’t have any- sorry, fresh outta carrots. Peas good?“

“I never cared for ‘em, but I suppose they’ll do,“ he teased, turning so Wally could slap the bag on the dark purple spot between his shoulder blades. He winced as the bag touched his skin. “Fuck a bastard, that’s cold.”

‘‘You want it be warm instead?”

“What I be wanting is my back to stop hurtin’, but I guess I we can’t have everything.” Silence filled the air for a moment. “I really do appreciate ‘ya helpin’ me out like this,“ he added.

“What, you think I was just gonna leave you to hobble back here on your own?” Wally flipped the now somewhat thawed bag over, pressing it over the bruise again. “I’d do that to Sammy, maybe, but not you.”

“Aww, ain’t you sweet? C’mere, you.” Shawn turned around and pulled Wally downward, firmly planting a kiss on his lips. Wally stumbled back immediately, nearly crashing into a nearby lamp. “I- I- What's the big idea!?“

“...I’m kissing you? What’s the problem here?“ Shawn asked in bewilderment, wincing as he tried to sit upright.

“I- you can’t just run around kissing fellows on the lips!“

“We’ve been datin’ each other for six damn months!“

“Yeah, but you’ve never-! Look, what if someone saw us?“

“Saw us-? We’re alone in your apartment! Who do you think’s gonna be seeing us, the pigeons?“

“No! I just think that we shouldn’t be doin’ this sort of thing yet!“

“And there, look! You’re doing it again!“

“Whatd’ya mean, “doing it again?”“

“That thing you do! You’re always perfectly happy to be together, but the second I so much as touch you you’re running away like a small frightened animal!“

“I am not!“

“Then kiss me!“

“No!“

Shawn let out an exasperated noise, rolling over onto his stomach. A few moments passed in silence, neither making eye contact.

“Listen,” Shawn finally spoke up. “If you don’t want to be together, you should just say so instead of draggin’ this out.“

“What? Hey hey, I never said that! I mean... look, I’ve been with a lot of girls.“

“Don’t I feel special.“

“But none of ‘em ever worked out, you know? I even hit it off with a few of ‘em, but it never really felt right. I even ended up in bed with this real cute dish, but I ended up gettin’ outta there just because it felt so weird. You’re the first person I actually feel somethin’ for, as sappy as that sounds.“

Shawn reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, popping one into his mouth and offering the rest of the box to Wally. He shook his head and Shawn switched the pack for a lighter. “I was just thinkin’ that you were havin’ second thoughts about this whole thing.“

“No, it’s more like... I guess I’m not comfortably messin’ around with a guy yet instead of a dame, and you surprised me.“

“I didn’t mean to. I was figurin’ you’d like a surprise. Guess not.“ Shawn took out the cigarette, blowing out a puff of smoke as he sat back up. “Maybe we should be startin’ smaller. You wanna lie on this couch for a while with me, seein’ as I’m in no shape to be moving?“

“....Yeah, okay. I can do that.“ Shawn scooched over and Wally sat down beside him, leaning against his torso.

“Ow, ow! Éirigh as! Back!“

“Right, right, sorry!“

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #ink machine #wally franks #shawn flynn #thomas connor #grant cohen #shally #outdesign posts things #outdesign attempts to write #watch as i try and fail to juggle two different accents at the same time

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rainygalaxynerd · 7 years

Text

Brave New World - FINAL CHAPTER

Warnings: If you’re still with me, nothing new.

Summary: Set app. a year after the chapter “Days”

Word count: App. 2.200

A/N: I did it!!! I finished it! I can’t believe it. *Ugly crying* Now what am I gonna do??? (Finish the follower inserts from my 300 follower celebration before I hit 400, maybe? Finish recording Force of Habit, one of @littlegreenplasticsoldier ‘s many masterpieces? Do the recording of Mirror Mirror, I’ve been wanting to do since I wrote it? How to choose, how to choose...)

This is part of a chapter story (in case the caption didn’t clue you in). Link to mobile friendly master list here.

Tagging: @winchesterprincessbride @jencharlan @twenty-onepages @kbrand0 @fangirling-instead-of-working @mrsjohnsmith @deandoesthingstome @vibou25 @jotink78

“You’re not hunting alone. It’s too dangerous. Call someone else, got it?”

Sam grinned and slapped Dean’s shoulder. “Was planning to.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and put a hand to his chest in mock pain. “So that’s how it is, huh? Trying to give your poor, crippled big brother a freakin’ heart attack on top of everything else?”

Sam scrunched up his face, processing. “I didn’t catch that,” he finally lamented. “Unless you said something about a boar, nippled pig mother. And was there something about an art attic?”

Dean flipped him off, not quite managing to bend his index finger.

Sam grinned. “How very British.” He put an arm around Dean’s shoulders and steered him away from the wheelchair. “Come on, let’s get you home and put some real food in you. You can get back at me when you’ve had some of that pie Caitlin made for you before going to work.”

Moving On

“Dean!” Caitlin squeezed between two stacks of boxes, higher than herself.

She found him in the kitchen, staring at a metal circle between two handles.

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s a corn cob scraper.” She sighed.

“Why do we have a corn cob scraper?”

“To scrape kernels off the cobs. Can’t you just put it in the box?”

“But I’m gonna hafta carry the box to the truck and from the truck to the house. I’m not gonna pack stuff we don’t need.”

Caitlin crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “I used it three days ago for that cream corn you gushed over so hard, I thought you’d sleep with it and banish me to the couch.”

Dean’s eyes widened. He pursed his lips and scrutinized the scraper for all of two seconds before tossing it into the open box next to him. With a shrug, he picked another item from the drawer. He stared at it. “What the fuck is-”

“Just throw it out. I only ever use it when I make pies and I don’t think I’m gonna do that anymore.”

Faster than lightning, Dean put the thing in the box.

Caitlin smiled, shaking her head. “Dean, I just wanted to know if you and Sam agreed on when to pick up the appliances this weekend?”

Dean buried his hands, elbows deep, in the kitchen drawer, feeling for more stuff. “Yeah, um, sure.”

“So when are you picking them up?”

He glanced up, eyes wide. “Saturday, I guess. Or Sunday, maybe.”

Caitlin glared at him until she burst out laughing. “Jeez, you’re tired. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll text Eileen and figure it out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean sighed and threw himself on the couch. He ran a shaking hand across his face and let his eyes drift shut.

He woke up to Caitlin gently massaging his neck and shoulders. “Mwhah?”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I talked to the company and the houses are so close and the total order for all of us is big enough to warrant free delivery, so that’s taken care of.”

“Mmh.” Dean pulled her closer, overbalancing her. He made an ‘oof’ sound when her weight hit him. Then he wrapped his arms and legs around her and kept her there.

“Are you secretly an octopus?” Caitlin relaxed against him.

“No, I’m a homeowner. But if you’d asked me ten years ago if I thought I’d end up as an octopus or as a homeowner, I’d have gone with octopus.” He lifted his head a bit to look her in the eyes. “It’s weird how bizarre it feels to be normal.”

“You’ll never be normal. Doing normal stuff won’t change who we are. You’ll never be a civilian, Dean.”

He squashed her tight against him, chuckling at the way her breath whooshed out of her lungs. “You’re right. I just… Fuck, I…”

“I know. I get it. But, Dean, you would have had to stop someday no matter what. You could have ended up dead or far worse off than this. Anyone who didn’t know you before will barely notice that you’re a bit more clumsy than most. There’s still so much you can do.”

“But I can’t hunt. I can’t save lives. If something ever happens to you, or to Sam, Cas, Eileen… I can’t protect you.”

“I know. That’s life for most people. You can still do a lot of good.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Caitlin was silent for a while. “You could help Sam with research.”

“Or I could get a job at Biggerson’s, flipping burgers. No way, I’m gonna sit and read about monsters and lore and not get to kill ‘em myself.”

“I bet you’d be the employee of the month all through the year.” Caitlin’s grin broke free. “You’d look so dashing in their uniforms, with the cap and the stripes-”

She cut off, squealing, when Dean tickled her sides, showing no mercy.

Her phone buzzed and bought her a respite as she read the text, almost hiccuping from laughing too hard.

“Who’s writing? Did Charlie kill Garcia’s character off again? Has Cas been arrested again? Is it Eileen?”

“It’s from Brad.” Caitlin showed him the message, sad smile on her lips.

I JUST WANTED TO WISH YOU GOOD LUCK IN KANSAS CITY. YOU’LL BE A GREAT DOCTOR. I HOPE EVERYTHING IS GOING ACCORDING TO PLAN WITH THE BIG MOVE. ALL THE BEST, -BRAD

Dean read with a frown. “You gonna answer?”

Caitlin sighed. “I don’t know. I hate knowing his psychiatrist’s reading over his shoulder. My answer wouldn’t be just for him.”

“I know he hasn’t had it easy but I still don’t get how you can forgive him.”

“Well, you weren’t there for his trial. It’s his story to tell, but trust me; he already paid his dues and some.”

“You mean they… Nevermind. I don’t wanna know.” Dean shook his head, holding Caitlin tighter to him. “Will you have to go back here and testify every other week when Cody’s appeal starts?”

“I’m sure they’ll ask me to.” Caitlin shrugged. “I won’t.”

Dean opened his mouth.

She spoke first. “I know they might repeal his death penalty without my testimony but he’ll be behind bars for the rest of his life either way. Cody might deserve to die but I’m against capital punishment on principle.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, questioning.

“Sure, there are humans worse than any monster you and Sam ever hunted, but once they’ve been caught and locked up, they’re not doing any more harm. How do you distinguish between them and the people that might have been possessed or otherwise influenced by something that will never be acknowledged in a courtroom? How do you know the difference between a Brad and a Cody if you weren't smacked in the middle of it? I didn’t even know the difference when I was sixteen, would never have known if they hadn’t taken me last year.”

“But what if he ever gets out? Some bureaucratic mistake, a legal technicality, early parole due to good behavior. As long as he’s alive there’s always a risk.”

“He’s not the only threat out there. There are Djinns and Demons and Daevas and drunk drivers and diseases, just to mention a few beginning with the letter d. I spent ten years in hiding, playing it safe. I’m done living in fear.”

Dean let out a deep breath when she nuzzled close, her nose tickling his neck. For a while, they just lay there, enjoying the closeness. Then he spoke, his voice rougher than usual. “I’m surprised you don’t think Sam and I are killers, with that attitude.”

“Dean. You protected people. It’s not like there’s a court or a prison for human eating or killing, sentient creatures out there.”

“Always so rational.” Dean licked Caitlin’s cheek, laughing when she tried to get away, sputtering in mock outrage.

The licks turned to kisses and the kisses turned to nibbles. Caitlin gave in with a content little sigh, ending in a gasp when Dean used enough pressure to make her really feel his teeth around her earlobe.

Dean snuck a hand under her blouse and undid her bra.

The doorbell rang.

Dean huffed a half laugh, half sigh as Caitlin sat up and redid her bra clasp. He put his hands on her hips. “Can’t we just ignore it?”

Her eyes softened and her movements slowed. “What if it’s important?”

“They can leave a note.” Dean’s hand snaked up her back again, destination obvious.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a quick rapping rhythm, Dean knew all too well. He let his hand fall with a sigh of regret. “Or they might unlock the door since we were dumb enough to give ‘em a key.”

They scrambled to their feet and looked halfway respectable when their front door opened to reveal Sam and Eileen.

Looking at Dean and Caitlin’s still frazzled appearance, Sam grinned. “I’m sorry, are we interrupting something?”

Dean flipped him off. “I thought you guys were busy in Kansas, painting protective sigils in invisible ink?” He signed a few keywords out of habit, though Sam most likely understood just fine, interpreting the movements of Dean’s lips.

“Yeah, we just… something came up. I wanted to tell you in person.” Sam did that weird thing where it looked like he was looking up from under his lashes, all shy and uncertain.

Dean’s jaw clenched, wrinkles of worry creasing his forehead. “Sammy, what’s wrong?”

Sam sputtered. “No, no. It’s not like that, nothing bad. But… It’s just… I guess Eileen and I will have to stop hunting, too.”

Dean's eyes flitted between the two of them, mouth open and eyes wide.

Caitlin broke into a wide grin, something unspoken passing between her and Eileen. “Congratulations, you guys,” she exclaimed, hugging first Eileen and then Sam.

“Could someone tell me what’s going on?” Dean grumbled.

Caitlin bit her lip and watched Sam expectantly.

Sam smiled wide, dimples carved into his cheeks. “You’re going to be an uncle, Dee.”

Dean’s eyes went impossibly wider, his mouth agape. A blissful smile slowly spread before he froze, frowned, and narrowed his eyes. “If this is some stupid joke about that mutt you’re planning to adopt-”

“No joke. Though we do plan to get a dog, now that we won’t be traveling as much as expected.” Sam grinned. He sobered a little. “Dean, I know you don’t like talking about it but you practically raised me, man. You’ll be there, right? If I need help?”

Dean swallowed hard and engulfed Sam in a crushing hug. “Of course, little brother.”

They didn’t get any more stuff packed that day, leaving the chaos behind to eat out.

Over desert, Dean nudged Sam. “So what are you gonna do, college boy, if you’re not hunting?”

Sam chuckled. “Be a college boy, I guess. Charlie dug up my old scholarship and refurbished it. I guess I’m going back to law school. I won’t become a procedural lawyer as long as I’m deaf but I guess pushing pens isn’t so bad.”

Dean glowed with pride. “That’s… Holy fuck, Sam, that’s awesome.” He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.” Sam took another bite of his salad and chewed slowly. “So, what about you, Dean? Any idea what you’ll do with your time while Caitlin’s busy at the hospital?”

Dean made an awkward shrug and lowered his gaze to his plate. A sly smile appeared on his lips. “Maybe I should take some child rearing classes. At least one of us should know what we’re doing, this time.”

Eileen almost choked on her water.

Sam kicked Dean under the table, his expression grateful. “You didn’t do too bad the first time around, you know.”

Dean grinned and Sam knew he walked right into what was coming.

“Imagine what you could’ve achieved if I had known more, college boy.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

It was late, and they were both a little buzzed from toasting so many times when Caitlin turned to trace the handprint on Dean’s shoulder with a finger. “Did you mean it?”

Dean, almost asleep, grunted, opening one eye halfway. “Meanwha?”

“You, working with kids?”

Dean shrugged. “Dunno. Those ankle biters can be vicious.”

“But not as scary as monsters, right?” Caitlin chuckled.

“Way scarier.” Dean smiled. “I guess they’d be easier to handle than engine parts, these days.”

“I never told you, but when the Djinn had me, I dreamed of you. Us. Together.” Caitlin blushed.

“You did?” Dean pulled her closer. “What was it like?”

“You…” She smiled, her cheeks heating further. “You were a nurse at the pediatrics ward. You were amazing with the kids.”

Dean gaped at her. “A nurse?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

Dean pursed his lips and tilted his head, considering. “Don’t nurses usually end up marrying handsome doctors?”

“Shut up, Winchester.”

“Why? You could be Doctor Winchester, parading you trophy spouse, nurse Winchester around at fundraisers. Doc Winchester’s got a nice ring to it, don’t it?”

“Dean, seriously, can it.” Caitlin rolled away and lay on her back. “You’re such an ass.”

Laughing, Dean poked her side. “You’re the one who dreamt me as a nurse, Doc.”

Caitlin glared at him with narrowed eyes. “I did. I saw you put a glove over your head and down over your nose, making it look like a pig’s snout and blow air into the glove until it came off your head, whizzing across the room.”

Dean laughed harder. “That’s… that’s priceless. Next time I get my hands on a glove, I’ll try it.”

“Screw you.”

“Really? I thought you were mad at me?”

“Dean!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stop. Sleep tight, Caitie.”

Caitlin turned to kiss him goodnight. “You too, nurse Dean.”

“Whatever.” Dean drifted off, his smile lingering.

#brave new world #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester / ofc #sam winchester / eileen #epilogue #final chapter #the end #season 7 au #happy ending #I think so #at least

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fanficsj · 7 years

Text

Blind Disaster

Dean Thomas could not believe his luck. He couldn’t keep a boyfriend, his best friend is getting married in a week and his ex-girlfriend is now married to a wealthy athlete. Dean continued to look through his wardrobe for his navy and white jumper.

“Oy! Thomas hurry the feck up,” said with a huff from his best friend Seamus Finnigan. Dean rolled his eyes at him and sighed again for the 12th time in 30 minutes.

”Listen Seamus, I did not want to go on this stupid blind date in the first place,” Seamus huffed once again and threw the book he was reading on the bed.

”Okay listen mate, I know you don’t want to go on this date but trust me, the lass I have set up for you tells me she’s liked you since Hogwarts!. You have to give her a chance for me Deaney. I promise you will not regret it. Plus! I heard through Ron that she is still as hot as we remembered.” Seamus practically screamed as he jumped up onto Deans bed.

Finally happy with his appearance, Dean pulled his shoulder length locs back and danced in a circle to give Seamus a view of his outfit, ”Shay, you keep going on and on about this girl who is like in love with me since Hogwarts, but who the hell is she? Why does it have to be a blind date? And I’ve only liked 3 girls during Hogwarts Ginny, Ariel, and Macey. Besides you’re getting married in a week. I should be planning your bachelor party.”

Seamus laughed. He knows Dean left out one special girl on purpose. He paced back and forth trying to think of a way to calm Dean down. He’s been on the outs ever since Seamus married Pavarti a few months ago.

”First off, I got married two months ago. This is our official wedding and Dean listen to me we are only 30 and you are freaking out about this date for no reason. You know this person, you talk to this person all the time. Well not all the time mate but you know. You know her and she has confessed her sexual attraction to you many times over” Seamus was trying his best to drop hints but Dean was completely ignoring him as he put on his coat and boots and headed for the door.

”Shay I’m going to be late, it’s 7:45 now and I get what your doing but all of our friends are sexually attracted to me. See ya mate!” and with a pop Dean was gone. ”Well he does have a point,” Seamus said to himself as he picked up a muggle picture of him, Dean, Luna, Harry and Ron. “The man is sexy!” Following Dean’s lead Seamus apparated home to his wife to tell her how ridiculous Dean was being. Hell, Dean had forced him to go on a blind date with Parvati first.

Dean fidgeted with his pocket watch as the time turned 8:05pm. His date was late, probably stood him up or something. This was really starting to piss him off, until he saw her walk into the room. Is that who he thinks it is?

”Oh my god Dean?!” Luna Lovegood rushed to his side of the table to pull him into a hug. “I am so sorry I am late. Seamus gave me the wrong address and I ended up down the street and had to walk 15mins to get here. I am so going to slap that man.” Luna placed her purse on the chair and picked up a menu not waiting for a response.

Dean was honestly shocked. Here was a 29 year old Luna Lovegood, with a new short haircut and makeup on. Her eyes were still wide and wandering and still as crystal gray as ever. He watched as Luna played with her earrings, which were just live shrunken pygmy puffs. She looked so different with her hair cut in a bob, it fit her nicely. She encouraged him to loc his hair stating, ”If you ever got locs, you would look so good I would have to give myself to you” then apparting away like she hadn’t said something out of the norm to him.

”Uh Dean?” Luna asked staring at him as if she was trying to look into his soul. He hated when Luna looked at him like that. It meant she was trying to read his mind. Which she could do so he always kept his thoughts positive around her. He did not need her knowing about his sad love life and the fact that he was slightly and only slightly, in love with her.

”Hey yeah sorry! I was just shocked that it’s you and especially with all your long blonde hair being gone. What sparked the change?” He reached across the table to play with her hair a bit.

Luna giggled at him, “Well I remember someone saying his favorite haircut on any woman was an asymmetrical bob. So I the know-er of all spells, turned my hair into a bob for this date. I was going to turn it brown but then I would look regular. I mean how many black women or as my horrible muggle boss loves to say half white women, do you know with bleach blonde hair and gray eyes?’

Dean laughed a real genuine laugh at Luna’s story. She didn’t smile though. At all, she looked more like the girl from Hogwarts who got picked on. She had this dreamy look on her first like she was about to say something so out of this world, but she didn’t.

”Hey Luna, I like the way you look no matter what. I mean lets be honest here you and I both know how hot you are. The bob does turn me on a bit but you’ve always been hot and beautiful to me” Dean felt his cheeks heat up as Luna’s wide eyed expression stayed on her face as he spoke. Luna looked away from after his little speech. She couldn’t believe Seamus didn’t tell Dean she was his date. She knew they were coming on this date but he didn’t, and she was fuming and crumbling all at once.

”Sorry to intrude on your thoughts this way Dean but, I was not aware this was a blind date for you. I asked Seamus if you had said yes yet to finally going out with me and he told me yes. I feel stupid and tricked and lied to. It’s obvious you’re shocked that it’s me and while I can be very unknowing, I am no fool Dean Thomas and your horribly cruel best friend Seamus “Fecking” Finnigan will pay for this.” Luna then got up and walked right out the same door she came through.

Dean left a $50 bill on the table and ran after her. He saw Luna duck into the apparition check point behind the small green rubbish bin in the alley next to his favorite bar. He was too late, he heard her disappear with a pop followed by a gust of blue air. God she was amazing. The only witch he knew who could apparate with a show of color to follow. He knew she was going to Seamus’ and he apparated into the apartment to open the door before they did. Dean landed right on top of Seamus screaming out a rushed sorry as he pushed Seamus back down and opening the door to met Luna. Who by they way looked furious but what concerned him more was that she also crying.

”Seamus Finnigan how dare you lie to me about- oh Dean? I’m sorry I’m hear to yell at Seamus as you well know. Now move Dean Thomas or you shall be moved.” Luna proceeded to push Dean out of her way as if he weighed nothing. ”Luna wait!” Dean tried to stop her but it was too late. Luna entered Seamus and Parvati’s home with her wand pointed at him and her eyes trained on Parvati. She was never a fan of her to begin with. ”Mrs.Finnigan your husband lied to me and made me believe that Dean knew he was going out on a date with me. I showed up excited to finally go on a date with me and guess the hell what? Dean did not know!” Luna’s eyes never left Pavarti and her mouth never spoke any other words but Seamus’ right pants leg started to smoke. ”Bloody hell Luna! That was not appropriate. You do not try to jinx my husband!” Pavarti stepped forward and Dean stepped in front of Luna. ”Pav look, Seamus lied to her and it was wrong. Luna just feels tricked that’s all!” Dean grabbed Luna’s hand and led her to the door.

Seamus ran into the hallway. “Luna wait! It wasn’t a trick I swear. I wanted to tell Dean but I thought it would be best if he didn’t know it was you. He would have backed out, he thinks you’re to good for him!” Seamus shouted down the hall. Dean froze and Luna’s tears continue to roll down her brown skin. “Seamus! I told you that in private!” Seamus snorted at Dean’s embarrassment ”What? Dean you told me that at a karaoke bar as we sung Mariah Carey”

”Seamus this was cruel! Very very cruel of you. This reminds me of Hogwarts. You know how much I like Dean. You knew back then in Hogwarts too. Even tried to convince me to ask him out as we redid our 7th and 6th years. I’ve had enough of being bullied as a child, teenager and even as an adult. But I never never thought you would do something like this to me too. It happened once at Hogwarts with Jason Tiller and I will not be the butt of anyone’s joke any damn more” Luna shoved Dean off of her arm and apparated away.

Six months had passed since his blind date with Luna and no one has seen or heard from here since. Dean went by her father’s place and even by her mother’s burial plot. He went by her job the next day but her boss said she quit. No one answered her door and she changed her wards. Seamus felt guilty as well. He tried to send apology letters to her but they just ended up at Dean’s place. Which worried him even more. This was not like Luna at all. She told him everything, especially when she went on one of her disappearing acts. Pavarti is still livid, but Seamus informed Dean that she’s actually mad at him and not Luna, which Dean is grateful for.

Luna is his best friend. Well, obviously Seamus is his best friend, but Luna is completely even with him. Traumatic events bring people closer together. Being trapped in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, really solidified the ever growing bond he had with Luna. If he had known that Luna liked him so much he would have went on that date no convincing necessary. He wrote to Luna, and none of his letters were returned, but none were responded to either. He had just sent his last letter off 30mins ago but Bailey also never returned. Luna lived two blocks away. Bailey should have returned by now. Dean started to a write to Luna asking if she is keeping Bailey as punishment to him, since she was a gift from Seamus but He heard Seamus swearing outside of his door.

”Dean open up now,” Seamus rapped on his door as he screamed in gaelic. Bemused,Dean swung open his front door to see Seamus being pulled by his ear by Hermoine. ”Hello Dean, I haven’t seen you in 2 days. Glad you invited us over. I received a letter from Luna Lovegood informing me of everything that has taken place between the 3 of you and something about Pavarti being a mean old hippogriff” Hermoine looked around Dean’s apartment as if she wasn’t just over last week for dinner. As she spoke, Seamus rubbed his ears with a hiss, but more importantly Hermoine walked right over to Dean’s mirror and refused to face it or even stand poised with her legs closed.

Dean cocked his eyebrow and studied her some more before walking over to where she stood, ”Hey Moine, listen just tell me where she is so I can go to her” ”Well I can’t really do that Dean.” Hermoine looked Dean over. “ I promised her that I would keep her location a secret. Besides I came here to find out a bit of information from the two of you” ”Well what is it you want to know Mrs.Weasley?” Hermoine circled Dean’s ottoman before she sat down bending her legs to the side before she spoke up, “Seamus here tells me you’re secretly in love with Luna but he had to lie to get you to go on a date with her because and I quote, ‘she’s too perfect for me’.”

Dean smiled as Hermoine’s smoldering face turned into one of curiosity. ”You tell me, are you who you say you are? Or are you the same 5th year who fell in love with me and told me Ginny Weasley would not be great for me? Or are you the 6th year girl in the dungeons encouraging me to keep it together and to not be afraid, while also holding on to me for dear life? Or are you the scared 21 year old who came over in the middle of the night because she was afraid that she would stay a virgin forever and never birth any children, due to her first ever heartbreak. Or are you the 25 year old woman who kissed me so passionately on new years night she had to disappear for 1 month to study the mating rituals of the new species of gnomes she found in her backyard. Or are you the 29 year old woman who tried to set my real best friend on fire?,” Dean walked over to Hermoine and pulled her in close.

”Because unlike Hermoine, Luna I know your stance and more importantly the way you sit from anywhere. Also I know that’s you Ginny, Seamus is actually already here. He’s in my bedroom taking a nap before he has to go into work tonight. Please turn yourselves back into who you are so I can kiss my hopefully future wife.”

Ginny folded her arms and huffed as she started to turn back into herself, “Fine whatever you say Dean, but Luna we will talk about what he said later.” Ginny stalked off to wake Seamus up, leaving Luna and Dean alone. ”Are you not going to turn back into the sweetest, bravest and most bad ass woman I know?” Dean asked as Luna kept up her Hermoine appearance. ”I don’t know, are you going to stop being a coward and ask me out? Or should I turn into the sexy muggle mail man from you’re mother’s street?”She asked clearly amused by Dean’s new found ego. ”I mean I do love me that mail man.” ”Well I guess I better hurry up then and turn back into myself so I can see if those lips still got it.” ”Oh they do baby trust me” Luna giggled and broke free from Dean grip running for the door. ”Hey where are you going?” ”If you catch me I promise I won’t tell anyone about your crush on the mail man and I will probably kiss you and I will most likely marry you. But only in the veeerryyy far future.” and with that Luna apparated out of his apartment, leaving Dean to follow her red colored magic to their favorite place. Shell cottage.

#dean thomas #luna lovegood #harry potter #hermione granger #ginny weasley #seamus finnigan #pavarti patil #hogwarts #fanfic #fan fiction #masterlist

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