#if i see one more asshole refer to dean as an 'angry person'

[deaneverafter]

Supernatural fandom, understand the difference between being angry when you're entitled, when someone hurts, betrays and disappoints you, physically beats on you, versus being angry just for lols, being an inherently "angry man" challenge

[vngelicc]

·˚ ༘ 💌 IMAGINE┊jungkook as a boxer and your boyfriend. he’s your ride or die and you’re his too. a modern day Bonnie and Clyde.

TAGS — toxic!jk, possessive sex, angry sex, angst, glamourized toxic relationship, abusive due to jk’s aggression be warned, headcanons + some plot!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

+     Jeon Jungkook is an infamous underground boxer, he doesn't play by the rules and he doesn't like a clean fight. You can guess what type of person he's like out of the ring. He's your typical asshole: snarky, perverted, and only intelligent in what seems like the streets. He's got issues. Loads of them and he isn't one to shy away things often being blunt since he could care less what people think of him.

+     Jungkook has a horrible habit of being in and out of relationships, none making it past a day or two cause his attention is being caught by a new girl. He can sweet talk like he's your prince charming but fucks you like a common whore. He's cocky too, knows the ladies want him and it strokes his ego to know they're all dying for him.

+     He meets you at a family wedding he goes to, you're sitting so pretty in the center with your arm tucked into your daddy's. So you're a good girl, he muses, it's all the more reason to approach you. He's infatuated, he has to have you now as there's no way he can skip out on the opportunity of a lifetime as he considers it. You end up rejecting him many many times cause you know of his reputation.

+ In your relationship he's possessive and jealous. Jungkook fully trusts you, he doesn't trust anyone else and sees himself like your protector to which he is (to a certain extent) but he needs to understand not everyone is threat. Jungkook loves you more than life itself, he's downright obsessed with the idea of being with you until the end of time but overall he tries to be a good boyfriend to you. Even if your father doesn't approve of him, *cue the "daddy pass the salt" fiasco.

━ (음악)

; his playlist

1. todas mueren por mi - cartel de santa

2. first class - jack harlow

3. love n hennesy - a.chal

4. bonnie & clyde - dean

5. malibu - ph-1

"Y es que es asi, todas muren por mi, y es que es asi, todas muren por ti," - Cartel De Santa

"If I were you I wouldn't," some girl pipes up from beside you, "woman to woman, he's not good for you." You're not stupid, you know who she's referring to and you can feel a small amount of annoyance hit you.

"Well," you softly smile, it's in your nature to be polite even if she is meddling in what doesn't concern her, "good thing you aren't me."

She scoffs, mumbling something about it being your loss but you see it as a win. You're so used to all these girls pitying you and trying to "warn" you about Jungkook. You know perfectly the type of guy he was and is right now. It wasn't like you jumped in blindly you made sure to be very clear with him, one screw up and you were leaving.

Jungkook's infamous playboy behavior exceeds him, no one can believe the once eligible bachelor is now in a relationship. His little groupie is so disappointed their favorite fuck buddy was off the market. They wonder how you do it given his little reputation and stuff. Do you ever get tired of random girls telling you he used to text them? Or how about the ones who "tried" warning you of his fuckboy tendencies?

Though Jungkook isn't the only one who's questioned often times. You're his polar opposite, you're not made for the lifestyle he leads on. As far as the public knows you're the daughter of a rich businessman who's family friends with the Jeons. You study in a prestigious university majoring in literature and working a internship in a journal company. They perceive you as a socialite and total snob due to your rich girl status, how wrong they were..

You finish applying a small layer of strawberry gloss on your pouty lips and head back out into the arena. You sit front row next to Yoongi who's watching Namjoon motivate Jungkook before the next round begins. They're both his mentors and you've come to see both men as friends and older brothers. "He's doing great so far, if he keeps this up he'll win right..?" You softly say to Yoongi.

"Yes, Kook's doing great with his speed and catching the poor bastard off guard but he needs to slow down or else he'll slip up and the other will get a upper hand on him. We don't need Kook to come back with fractured ribs again." Yoongi replies with a sigh, offering some peanuts to you.

"No thank you," you hum, "you know how he is, always eager and overzealous."

Yoongi grunts as he slouches in his seat, "Well he needs to cut that shit out before he gets his ass knocked out one of these days. If it ain't his opponent, it's gonna be me." He smirks lazily.

The match goes back into motion as the referee is yelling something to the crowd. Your heart is beating quickly, you pray to the gods above they send you your man back in one piece with no broken bones (his case fractured ribs). You've never liked this because the blood and the violent punches scare you. Especially because this is Jungkook you're talking about.

You watch with close eyes, Jungkook looks angry and it's both hot and scary at the same time. He's got sweat building up on his forehead, hair sticking to his skin, and jaw clenched as he throws punches left and right. So far Jungkook has been in the lead all night as he chooses to surprise his opponents. You're feeling a little bit of adrenaline running through your veins as you watch the match.

"C'mon, you got this..." You whisper softly and clench your fists.

The poor dude doesn't stand a chance anymore, he's losing his momento and his technique is getting sloppy. Jungkook must have tired him out already.. You find yourself smiling and yelling with joy as Jungkook manages to corner him. He's so, so close and your breath hitches in anticipation as the final punch is thrown and the dude goes falling to the ground. Everyone cheers for Jungkook, chanting his name as Namjoon crowds Jungkook after he's announced winner.

You eagerly make your way up to the stage, watching as Jungkook walks towards you simultaneously with dark eyes. He licks his lips chest heaving from the aftermath of the match, he seems like he's running on pure adrenaline now. Before you can even reach the ropes he hauls you up effortlessly, grabbing the back of your hair with one hand and roughly squeezing your ass through your dress with his other.

He kisses you with his all groaning softly while his hand kneads your ass massaging it in a more comforting manner rather than sexual. You bring your small hands to cup his face as you kiss back. Everyone's still celebrating and some close friends that came are catcalling you two. Jungkook tightens his hold as he pulls back, forehead against yours as he pants hotly against your mouth.

"I fuckin' did it baby," he mutters to you, "did it just for you."

You smile softly, "I'm proud of you," you mumble back and kiss his lips very gently, contrast to earlier, "I knew you could."

Jungkook chuckles breathily, "Let's get the fuck outta here yea? I wanna fuck the shit out of you in the locker rooms." He grins slapping your ass.

You want to chastise him but he does end up fucking you in the showers. Your little fur coat is messily thrown on a bench and a trail of clothes leading to the shower cubicles lay strewn around. It's a little steamy in there and Jungkook's got his strong arms pinning you up against the tiles as he works his thick cock in and out of you.

Your moans are soft and whiny, your toes clench and your thighs shake every so often from his cock stroking your g-spot from this angle. His wet body presses up against yours, his chest is firmly pressed to yours and your nipples rub against his wet skin every time he bounces you up and down his cock. "Mmm.. yeah," you softly moan, "right there, 's so good," you whine quietly.

Jungkook grunts quietly as he adjusts his grip on your bubbly ass, fat spilling from between his fingers as he hoists you upward and begins to drive his cock into you faster. "Right there baby? Want me to fuck you harder with my fat cock? C'mon baby, tell me you love it, love how full it makes you feel and hard it makes you cum.." He whispers in your ear.

You moan loudly at the dirty talk, back arching a little, "I-I love it..! Fills me up so good Kook, only you can make me cum like this!" You whimper towards the end, arms sliding down from his shoulders to simply being wrapped around his back.

"Damn right I am," he growls, "you're fucking mine, this pussy belongs to me and I don't wanna see anyone near it. Only I'm allowed to fuck you like this," he says as he pistons his hips faster, "say it. Say you belong to me, let them hear it baby,"

You squeal at the change of pace, arms coming up behind you to grip the top of the half-wall as he rocks you back and forth on his cock. It's too much and you can feel your pussy clamping down on him, "I'm yours! My pussy belongs to you," you cry, ".. Jungkook..! Jungkook!" You call out over and over as he fucks you like a man on death row.

Jungkook smirks softly, "Damn right," he kisses you while he plows away at your sensitive pussy. He thoroughly marks you as his and makes sure the whole damn hallway could hear you that night. He walks you down the hall later that night feeling refreshed as ever with his arm around your waist holding your ass as you stay cuddled up to him with a sweet adorable smile.

"Dame un poco love with some Hennessy, you know I like it when you're mad at me," - A.Chal

You're bubbling with annoyance as you storm around your shared apartment trying to find something to do, something that doesn't involve seeing his face. Jungkook was following occasionally, muttering curses and shaking his head at your "childish behavior". He's getting riled up too even though he has nothing to be angry about, he also has no right either since he started this whole mess.

The "mess" you're referring to occurred moments before arriving at home together. You were both hungry so you both said "hey, fuck it why not try that new barbecue place down the street?" and then you both went to the damned restaurant.

Everything's chill you're both enjoying the scenery around you, the waitress is very friendly and helpful and you both get your order and drinks quickly because the place isn't busy. Everything's going so well. You're happy, Jungkook's happy, everyone is so where did it all go to shit?

Jungkook is to blame (partly because he didn't look for the fight) but it was those preppy assholes from your university. They're sons of your parent's friends and you have met them before. Yet it did not give them the right to comment about your boyfriend or relationship.

They came over saying shit like "does your dad know who you're with?" or "why don't you ditch this lowlife and come get some drinks with us?" You're beyond angry and open your mouth to give them a piece of your mind but Jungkook beats you to it.

"Her dad perfectly fucking knows who she's with and where she's staying at, I don't recall ever asking for your fucking opinion on my girlfriend." Jungkook lowly mutters as he glares, "If I were you I'd fucking leave before I get my ass beat for acting a fool."

The one who started it laughs, "I dare you to put your hands on me, if you do—" he's cut off by Jungkook punching him right across the face.

"Say that again? I couldn't quite hear you?" Jungkook smirks as he yanks his head back, "C'mon, what were you gonna do?"

You scramble to get up, "Jungkook please," you softly beg, "let's just go okay? Ignore them they're not important."

Jungkook doesn't let up, only delivering another sucker punch to the gut. "Say it," he growls.

"L-Let go of me! My father will hear about this and when he does you're in so much shit! y/n get your—" he's cut off once again by Jungkook who's fucking livid.

You can see the crowd forming and the waitress from earlier on the phone speaking frantically. You feel angry, and worried because Jungkook was going to be in huge trouble if things weren't stopped now. You shakily breathed and looked around unsure of what to do.

It's about to turn into a full on fight because Jungkook pushes the asshole to his limits and now he's going to fight back. But you'd be damned if anyone put their hands on your man like that. You lift a bottle of soju and smash it against the dude's head as he's disoriented, "We are going home." You seethe to Jeongguk and toss the broken bottle top to the floor.

You're angry as hell right now and the press can kiss your ass, hell you work for the damn press you'll write the damn story yourself. You mutter to yourself and get into the car, arms crossed and face fixed to a cold stare.

“Baby,” Jungkook breathes out, entering the vehicle and sitting there looking at you in disbelief, “baby..?”

“Home.” You glare, and the rest of the ride is driven in silence and the occasional comment that dies out on Jungkook’s tongue halfway as he lets you mope around.

That’s how you’re in this predicament, pacing around at home angrily and huffing because the day is ruined. Not by Jungkook (maybe), but by those preppy assholes who think you’re friends or something. You didn’t even like them, you tolerated them. There was a difference between being cordial and rude.

“y/n.” Jungkook calls out, you ignore him and he calls out to you a total of two more times until he himself grows impatient and bothered. “Fucking hell y/n what do you want me to do?! Apologize? Say sorry for fucking defending myself against those daddy’s boys?!” He erupts in your face, hands holding your arms so tight you know you’ll bruise.

“You attacked him in a restaurant Jungkook! That wasn’t the fucking ring in there and you know it! Don’t you ever just leave boxing back in the ring? You always do this when things don’t go your way or the slightest inconvenience hits you and I’m sick of it! One of these days Jungkook they’ll arrest you and so help me I won’t be there to help you.” You glare, shaking him off as you pound your little fists on his chest.

Jungkook scoffs, “Oh that’s what we’re doing now? Taking their side? You fucking slut,” he shoves you hard making your back hit the wall as you stumble a little, “given the opportunity you’d jump at any chance to get on their cocks wouldn’t you? You’re a good for nothing—”

You cut him off with a slap, “Who the hell do you think you are? Accusing me of this stupid crap get over yourself Jungkook! You’re so far up your own ass you don’t even know what you’re saying to me.” You snap as you storm past him, heading right to your bedroom to pack a overnight bag.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’m not done talking to you!” Jungkook yells as he follows you, “Oh classic y/n move, pack your shit and run from the problems yeah real classy move.” He sneers.

“Leave me alone,” you say as you shove random clothes into a bag, “I’m done talking with you, I’m not going to sit here and let you disrespect me or our relationship.”

Jungkook grabs the bag from your hands, “You aren’t going anywhere, you’re gonna unpack all this shit and we’re going to talk because isn’t that what you always want?! To talk?!”

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes as he crowds you, “Fuck. You.” You seethe angrily, you’re not one to cuss but when you do it’s because you’re absolutely losing it.

“What was that?” Jungkook suddenly growls, “Go on, repeat that shit to me.”

“I said: fuck you Jungkook. You’re a goddamn asshole and it’s a miracle I’ve stayed this fucking long with you!” You yell in his face as the both of you have a screaming match.

Things are thrown, picture frames shattered, and the room is in such disarray you’re not sure anyone can sleep in there. You take your anger out on him, letting all the pent up anger from before bubble up. This feels exhilarating but tiring at the same time, yelling took so much energy..

At one point he grabs you roughly, pressing you on the wall as he smothers you in a harsh kiss. The sexual tension had built and was at its’ boiling point. You found yourself kissing him back just as fierce and hungry. Your hands tangled in his hair and you harshly tugged on the soft strands.

“Fuck,” he moans against your mouth as he reaches down to unbuckle your jeans and push his hand inside your panties.

You arch into his touch, hands coming down to grip his forearm as you move your leg to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. A soft shaky sigh leaves your lips as his hand cups your soft pussy, his finger dipping between your folds to rub at your clit.

He presses on the bud and rubs back and forth as his head drops down to your neck. He leaves a series of hickeys on your skin as his free hand grips your hip tightly and holds you firmly against him. “You like that?” He murmurs hotly in your ear.

You pant and wiggle around in your place as your lower half is engulfed in pleasure. Your sensitive clit makes your hips jump in surprise every so often whenever he rubs in a particular way. The feeling is a little overwhelming but in a good way.

“Love it,” you whisper back and tangle a free hand in his hair as you grip it tightly, “but I want something else.”

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” Jungkook pulls back to stare down into your eyes as he slips his fingers past your tight slicked up hole as he fills you.

Your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut as you tighten your grip, “Mmm–you, want your cock in me,” you moan out, “want it to fill me up, make me cum over and over again..” You whisper seductively as you lick your lip.

Jungkook groans softly as he picks up the speed in your panties. He moves his fingers quicker, creating this squelching noise as your wetness dribbles down to his palm. His hand is cramping but the pain is worth it as he watches your face contort into pleasure. “Yeah..? What else baby? C’mon be a good girl and tell me.”

“Ohh..! Mm–want you to hold me down on the bed and make me take it. Don’t want it to stop until I’m crying and shaking, want you filling me up with your cum till it’s dripping–Jungkook,” you whine as you arch your back, “Call me your little slut, choke me, slap me, god just ruin me,” you whimper.

Jungkook moans at your words, he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. The anger and sexual tension from before left you excited, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long due to your overzealousness. You moan and cry out for him as your pussy is rapidly approaching its’ release. You clench on his fingers and shake as he sends you barreling into hot pleasure.

It’s utter bliss as you slump into his arms and sigh happily as you ride out your orgasm. He slows down and manages to hold you against him as he pants softly, “I’m sorry baby,” he breathes out.

You swallow thickly, staring up at him with a soft pout, “I’m sorry too..” You murmur and cradle his face, “You know I’d never mean those words right?” Not even you were sure if you meant those words..

Jungkook nods slowly as he presses his forehead to yours tenderly, “I didn’t meant shit either, you know how I get.. I promise I’ll try harder next time to not lose my temper in public.”

It’s a lie, he’ll be on his best behavior for a week max and then it’s back to normal. You’re used to this and you find yourself not caring as you hum in agreement, “Good.”

You love Jungkook. You’d do just about anything and he’d do the same. You’re a match made in heaven.

[ ☁️ ] : ps that lil collage, pics edited so don’t worry ;)

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

In the Company of Anne Sexton

PART THREE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: plentiful pop culture references, mentions of violence, a slow burn at its core

Word Count: 3K

Summary: After a fist-fight, Jess invites himself on a carriage ride with Ella during the Bracebridge Dinner.

Thumbing through one of her most beloved copies of Virginia Woolf, Ella sat on the steps of Stars Hollow High waiting anxiously for Lane to emerge. They walked out most every day, with Lane on her way home and Ella on her way to the diner, but Lane had informed her during lunch she would have to stop by the cheerleading coach’s room for some secret business. Ella didn’t bother asking any questions, having seen the rabid excitement in Lane’s eyes. She had a feeling she would get let in on whatever was going on soon enough. Maybe even that evening, as she, Rory, Lane, and Lorelai had their annual viewing of It’s A Wonderful Life planned. Then, possibly, Die Hard. Usually, though, they just ended up talking through Bruce Willis’ quest. Snow blanketed the ground, but had grayed in the two days since it had fallen. There had been no melt, and street sweepers had cast it off in large, rocky clumps. Ella wondered at how magical snow looked falling, and what a nuisance it became in its aftermath. Like the happiness of a new marriage and the pain of a divorce. She was just getting to one of her favorite passages in To the Lighthouse when she heard the roar of a crowd growing on the lawn before her.

Looking up with curious hazel eyes, she found a group circling two boys in the midst of a fist fight. She only needed a moment longer to identify Jess as the aggressor in the center of the swarm of teens, though the other boy was holding his own perfectly well. Without thinking, she shoved her book in her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and running over, careful not to slip on the icy patches in her black Doc Martens.

“Jess!” she called, pushing her way through the hoard of pubescent teens. Obviously, she got no response, but that wasn’t exactly the intent of the exclamation in the first place. Her feet carried her farther into the brawl before her mind could stop them, and soon enough she had Jess by the shoulders, pulling him away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

He squirmed in her grasp, wondering who’d had the nerve to touch him. Eventually she took him around the waist and pried him away from his opponent, who was panting and bleeding from one lip. The crowd began to dissipate almost instantly, victims of a short attention span, though a few stragglers remained. Ella’s heart pounded in her chest and she felt a little sick to her stomach at the sight of the violence. Her veins buzzed with adrenaline, though she had only been involved in a small fraction of the action.

“Get off me!” Jess yelled, still not entirely sure who had grabbed him, but able to deduce it was a girl from the height and the feminine quality of the voice. When he fought though, the rest of the world usually became nothing more than a blur but the person in front of him.

When they were far enough away from the other guy and she felt mostly confident the incident was over, she finally released him, though he was larger than her and she had been hanging on by a thread anyway.

“Jesus, Jess!” she shouted when he finally turned around to look at her.

“Eleanor?” he asked, shocked to find her there.

A startling anger raged in his eyes. What concerned her more, though, was the bruise already blooming on the apple of his cheek and his bloodied knuckles. The dichotomy before her had her stomach doing flips. She’d heard plenty about this side of Jess, but had never had the misfortune of seeing it before. His hair was mussed up, and his lips were pressed in a thin line. The smirk she always found was gone, as was the joking air in his voice.

She went against her better judgement and took a step forward, eyes on his injuries.

“Back off!” Jess snapped immediately, beginning to leave. She recoiled at his volume.

But, her voice followed him up the road as he made his way for Luke’s. He hoped to sneak past his uncle without having to endure an interrogation. “I’m trying to help you, jackass! What the hell was that?!”

“Peter Smith’s an asshole, that’s what that was! Now, I suggest you run along!”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, Jess, you don’t get to walk away from me! Rory just reamed you for that stunt you pulled at Doose’s! I thought you were gonna get it together for Luke!”

“Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint!” Jess roared, winded but maintaining his fury.

As she swallowed down her irritation, the redness began to drain from her face. She knew it was no use to argue with him when he was in such a fiery state. For a minute, she debated leaving, going back to find Lane as she planned. Instead, she grabbed his wrist and spoke again in a calm, resigned tone.

“Jess, stop.”

He whipped around to face her again, pulling his arm back from her grasp, hiding a wince at the throbbing pain in his raw knuckles. “Don’t touch me right now!”

Ella held her hands up in surrender instantly, though she stood firm. “Okay. I’m sorry. But you’re not gonna get past Luke like this, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re gonna need to at least cool off a little first.”

Sighing through his nose, he stayed silent. At that moment, it was as good as a verbal concession or agreement. He was just beginning to catch his breath, his pulse thumping loudly in his ears.

“You wanna go get some ice? I’m sure the nurse has some,” she offered, and Jess felt his confusion growing at her kindness.

He shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets despite the pain. “No.”

“Alright. Look, I’ll go clock in. I’ll tell Luke you had some test to make up or something. Go fix yourself up somewhere and you might be able to fool him,” she suggested, working out the kinks inside her head. Luke was a good guy, but he wasn’t the most observant person she knew. She suspected if Jess could get the bleeding to stop he might get by unscathed. Though she was more doubtful about the bruise on his cheek, she decided it was better for Jess to be placated before he returned to work anyway.

Jess nodded as Ella turned back to go find Lane. She felt slightly better, but still a little anxious about the possibility of a fight between Jess and Luke which still remained. It was one thing to work with them when they were at their usual level of bickering. She didn’t know if she could handle an entire shift of them screaming at each other.

“Thank you,” Jess muttered when she turned on her heel, only just loud enough for her to hear.

She sighed a little in relief, tossing a glance at him over her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

.   .   .

Ella licked the last bit of melted marshmallow from her thumb, having eaten more than a few of the s’mores they had prepared with skewers over the stove burner. Instead of Die Hard, they had elected for the 1950s version of A Christmas Carol. They were watching as the ghost of Christmas future showed Scrooge his own grave. Lorelai sat above her on the couch, french-braiding her hair, while Lane and Rory shared a bag of chips on the floor next to her. Ella loved the Gilmore house, with its homey decor and welcoming atmosphere. Many times, she envied Rory for the kind of mother she had. All times, Ella felt more love in the Gilmore house than in the Stevens house.

“What do you want written or your gravestone?” Lane asked, her eyes trained on the screen, the picture reflecting back on her glasses.

Humming thoughtfully, Ella went with the first idea that popped in her head: “Here lies Ella Stevens, soon to become the world’s best ghost.”

“An award-winning haunter,” Lorelai quipped.

“My biggest, most long-term ambition,” Ella agreed. Soon, her hair was done and Lorelai tied it off with a proud smile.

“Okay, Rapunzel, my work here is complete,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Well, now that that’s over with, let’s hear it,” Lane demanded, turning at a ninety degree angle to face Ella expectantly.

Ella furrowed her brows. “What?”

“What happened with Jess? You yelled at each other in the courtyard today, right?” Rory asked.

“Nothing happened,” she assured them. “I simply suggested he could wait for his knuckles to clot before he tried to fly under Luke’s radar. Unfortunately, it was an uphill battle. Once he saw his purple cheek, Luke dragged him up to the apartment by his collar. But, he was back down in one piece fifteen minutes later. Wasn’t too catastrophic.”

“That kid is bad news,” Lorelai groaned, shaking her head. “He’s got Sid Vicious written all over him.”

Scoffing, flopped down on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling. “Really? I see him more as a Richard Hell type.”

“Well, that makes me feel better,” Lorelai mocked. “I’m serious, Ella, that is a screwed-up, angry kid. The vandalism, the fighting. He touches a hair on your head, and I will personally organize a whole torches and pitchforks event.”

“We can make it like a parade,” Rory suggested cheerfully. “And then Dean can punch him as a big finale. They can’t stand each other.”

“You guys have gotta calm down. We work together, that’s all,” she reasoned. “I only helped him out to avoid a major migraine. The grunting I’ve gotten used to, but man when Luke gets going…”

“Tell me about it,” Lorelai grumbled. “Just promise me you won’t be wooed by that unwashed miscreant.”

Rolling her eyes at the dramatics, raising her right hand and holding down her pinky with her thumb. “Scout’s honor.”

.   .   .

Twirling her key ring around her finger once for good luck, Ella made her way up the path to the Independence Inn, Doc Martens crunching through the packed white snow. The storm had come and gone, but the damage was done all over New England. The fancy invitees for the annual Bracebridge Dinner were snowed in, so Ella had the pleasure of being invited in their place. She was almost excited, having the opportunity to dress up and her old junker out, since she usually walked everywhere. Opening the giant french doors, she was enveloped in the Inn’s warmth, and she could smell the extravagant dinner cooking already. It made her stomach growl. Her cheeks pinked up pleasantly, and she shed her peacoat almost immediately. She smoothed down the front of her simple black dress, stealthily looking at her patterned tights to make sure they hadn’t sustained any runs or rips since she’d donned them an hour earlier. So far, she’d been successful.

“Ella!” Rory greeted her cheerfully, her voice like a bell chiming in the busy noises around them.

“Ah, it’s been so long!” Ella joked, rushing up to Rory and Lorelai, giving them hugs.

“So, no plus ones I take it?” Lorelai asked, looking at the girl who stood with only the shoulder bag she used to carry school books and her jacket in one of her hands.

Ella smiled thinly, shaking her head. A bashful lilt came into her voice. “No, I invited them. My little brother actually was gonna come and then this afternoon...”

“Well, that just means no one will be hogging you tonight!” Lorelai cut in, sunshine in her voice. It made Ella’s smile grow wider and into one more genuine.

.   .   .

Descending the stairs after unpacking in her room, she caught sight of most everyone else arriving. She had the habit of being early to everything. Equipped with only her jacket in her arms, which included a volume of Anne Sexton poetry in one of the pockets, she felt a wave of anxiety. It wasn’t exactly shyness, only uneasiness. It seemed everyone in the room had a partner, but she’d come alone. There were two beds in her room, and one would remain entirely untouched. Not that bringing Adam along was the ideal situation anyway, her little brother had actually become kinda funny after entering middle school. He wouldn’t have been the worst possible company. In a crowd full of friends and family, she felt so utterly alone.

Lane arrived eventually, along with her mother. Mrs. Kim was not the biggest fan of Ella, what with her dark makeup and clothing, her unsavory homelife. Over the years, however, she’d earned a bit more credit with Lane’s mother due to her grades and time working at the diner. Ella marveled at the beautiful floral arrangements and mahogany adornments, wandering around mostly silent while Rory and Lorelai rushed around, finalizing things and greeting people. Her eyes roamed over the crowd, and she spotted Luke and Jess arriving at the door. Jess’s big brown eyes caught her own. He offered her a teasing wave, and she smirked in response, nodding a little. After a moment under his gaze, she let her eyes fall as her cheeks warmed, and she felt at the chain around her neck as a reflex.

.   .   .

Sniffing slightly in the frigid air, Ella bit her lip as she ran her eyes over the familiar words of Sexton’s poetry, waiting as the many carriages of horses peeled away. Watching Rory squish into a carriage with Dean and his little sister had been entertaining, but she had felt some shameful envy nonetheless. The seat next to her just looked so empty. But she only sighed, turning back to her reading after marveling at the beauty of the sparkly, frozen nature around her. In all honesty, she had no interest in going on a pathetic carriage ride alone, but Rory and Lorelai had gone to so much trouble, who was she to deny the opportunity? She barely noticed when the horses began trotting along, the winter wonderland of Stars Hollow passing her slowly.

“Eleanor!” she heard, jumping slightly but rolling her eyes. There was pretty much only one person in Stars Hollow who called her by her full name. Before she could even look to see his face, Jess hopped in the carriage from the side, nearly stumbling but ending up impossibly smooth.

“What the hell, Jess?!” she exclaimed, marking her place in her book with an old receipt from Doose’s.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he drawled, cracking his usual crooked smirk.

Sighing, Ella mirrored his smile in spite of herself, running a nervous hand through the ends of her hair. “No, actually, I don’t think that’s a requirement.”

“Exactly. It’s one of many perks of associating with me.” Jess put on thick gray gloves as they spoke.

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m so honored, Mariano.”

“You should be.”

Ella chuckled breathily, clearing her throat as a pause stood between the two of them. Her eyes lingered on the bruise on his cheek, nearly invisible, having yellowed over the three days since he’d sustained it.

“Pretty, aren’t I?” he asked.

She blushed, looking away as her face dropped. “Sorry.”

Jess furrowed his brows, losing his teasing air. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Nodding, she sat up straighter and trained her view on the scenery.

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you the other day,” he said, tilting his head to try to catch her eyes again.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t...you don’t scare me,” she assured him, forcing her tone to remain light. She felt as though they might be dancing around a forbidden subject, she just didn’t know what it was.

“Okay. Didn’t mean to be presumptuous,” he said, leaning back in the cushioned seat of the carriage. The clomping of the horses hooves offered a rhythmic undercurrent to their conversation, soft but constant.

Raising her eyebrows, she finally turned back to him. “Well, you didn’t mean to be presumptuous but you were still being presumptuous.”

“Alright, sorry,” he said, slightly huffy, eyes wide and gloved hands raised in surrender.

“Apology accepted.”

“I’m happy we sorted that out, then.” His tone was dejected but she didn’t let it rile her.

“Me too,” she breathed slowly, watching a white cloud form in the air with her words.

Regarding her as she turned away again, Jess tasted the crisp frost of the wind.  One side of her hair was pinned back, the rest cascading down her shoulder. She wore dark eye makeup and something shiny on her lips. But still, she was bundled in her old black peacoat. It reminded him of the beatniks. All she needed were big square glasses. He noticed how thin her stockings were, how she lacked gloves or a scarf or a hat. Just looking at her made him unconsciously.

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked. “Anne Sexton keeping you company?”

“I am. And she is. Did Luke drag you along?”

Jess shrugged. “Sort of. It’s better than a night of scraping greasy plates at the diner.”

“What high standards you have,” she said. “Are you scraping plates over winter break or are you going back to New York?”

“My mom didn’t want me up there,” he said nonchalantly.

“She said that to you?” she asked, eyebrows raised angrily.

They were passing the town square, decorated with snowmans for the town competition. At night, to Ella, they looked like the blue ghosts in a Charles Dickens story.

“Luke told me it was his idea that I should stay. It wasn’t his idea.”

Humming in irritated acknowledgement, she crossed her arms tighter around herself. Her ears were going numb in the icy winter breeze. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll be at work everyday the next two weeks, silently protesting everyone else’s holiday cheer. You’re welcome to join.”

Jess smiled. “Will there be complaints of all the noise, noise, noise?”

“Every year.” She nodded in commiseration, a sardonic twinkle in her eye.

“Looking forward to it.”

[terramythos]

uhhhh liveblog reactions of the newest october daye book, #14, a killing frost. don’t look @ me. don’t @ me. 

monumental spoilers for this book & the entire series 

-aw tybalt is taking toby's last name

-SUS AF looks at Patrick and Dianda. 👀 I knew there was a reason we established that Patrick very close to Simon before he went crazy and evil. I feel like that was in Once Broken Faith (#10)?

-LMAO I straight up forgot Rayseline exists.

-great to see sylvester's still a dick.

-still endlessly funny to me that Sylvester's Literal Evil Twin Simon replaced him as Toby's father figure and now sylvester's just like, some asshole who randomly shows up sometimes

-great to see Luna's still a bitch.

-great family

-well it's interesting from a purely academic perspective to see what happens to May when she's literally missing organs. Usually it's Toby!

-hi Simon

-Simon: *is evil*

Toby: you know what? This dude is way more trustworthy than Sylvester!

(She's... not wrong)

-Simon: *is evil*

Toby: come oooon simon you're a good guy cmoooon this is getting boring

-oh cool we're going on a road trip with evil!Simon, that cant possibly go wrong

-*shit goes super wrong like right away* ok

-toby calling may her sister constantly in this book awww

-walther shows up :D I love him

-yaaay the Luidaeg finally my absolute fave absolute queen

-toby: so I went on this big quest on my own and now Quentin is kidnapped and May got elf-shot. It seemed like a good idea at the time so me and/or simon wouldnt get caught in some weird magic contract with you

The Luidaeg: wow, you're a fucking idiot

Toby's narration: this hurt on a personal level because she can't lie so i knew she like REALLY meant it

-ok so theres this weird bit where we learn Stacy is ultra protective of her kids dating. There is some discussion about how that is super weird and doesn't make any sense to toby. Then some more discussion about how a lot of Stacy's past doesn't add up. Specifically, stacy's grandparents were purebloods (who hated her), which actually makes zero sense biologically considering how little fae blood Stacy has. Also worth considering, though not mentioned, TWO of stacy's children are powerful seers which makes no sense from what we know about thin blood in canon.

I think this *might* connect to my ongoing suspicions of Marcia as a character, who is a thinblooded changeling who consistently keeps showing up. Including in this book when she really didn't need to. At this point she has met multiple Firstborn and they initially seem alarmed/disturbed when they see her for no apparent reason. 14 books since her intro and we know nothing about her past or even her heritage, which is unheard of in this series. When that kind of info is obscured its always because there's a big twist associated with it. There is something going on there.

-speaking of. Um. Simon and Sylvester's bio mom was a human? Excuse me? What? Hello?

-sylvester refused to claim her as their legal mother so simon (angry about it) had to reject her too. A whole new layer to the "fuck Sylvester" cake and brings some interesting perspective to him stepping in as a paternal figure for toby, a homeless changeling? What the fuck, Sylvester?

-this is also one reason why not evil!Simon isn't a total asshole to Toby.

-anyway. Toby being turned into an otter and biting The Luidaeg was fucking funny

-wow, evening REALLY sucks.

-dang the tree thing is pretty creepy :( big fuckin yikes

-OK so toby's sacrificing her way home to keep Simon from doing more damage? I guess is the plan? Fuck?

-toby seems to know names of some Roane she's never met and I'm not sure if that's a mistake or not

-oh Quentin is big mad at Simon. Even if this all goes well a lot of people are gonna hate him. Also, he hurt Dean which is gonna piss Patrick and Dianda off

-though it was basically mind control so. SHRUG????

-god, fuck evening

-WAIT. Something was just implied that. wait... if that's where this is going I'm MAD.

- Toby: *takes on the curse*

Simon: *is suddenly not evil*

Simon: toby what the fuck no why did you do that :(((

-i like Simon 😬

-"apparently, the thought of Patrick being angry with him was even more distressing than I'd expected it to be. Interesting." UM. UMMMM. 👀👀👀👀👀

-seeing Toby briefly turn into her book 1 version was funny. Immediately pointing at tybalt, the literal love of her life, and screaming "you FUCKER". Ah, memories.

-ok. Ok yeah that's where this was going. Fuck me. Fuck.

-i am SO MAD. a fucking THROWAWAY LINE ...

-ok so officer Thornton is Oberon. That's cool. Ok.

I immediately went and skimmed the two books he was in and caught two instances of foreshadowing.

In Ashes of Honor (#6) when toby meets him she describes him as familiar in a generic way. Like, she recognizes his voice and face immediately but can't place it.. This is never brought up again. In the final chapter of this book he is described the same way, as generic yet strangely familiar. So. A closer reading might be in order to see how other fae behave around him. It's possible Toby has a stronger reaction since he's her grandfather (and is the perspective character.)

And yeah, the fucking THROWAWAY "lady, let alone" line from The Brightest Fell (#11). At the time that just seemed awkward, or I guess a gratuitous Tam Lin reference. Fuck me. Also explains how he didnt implode or die from being trapped in Annwn.

-and it makes sense there isnt much more than that because it seems "officer thornton" doesnt know he's oberon. Like it's basically the situation Simon was in??? There's a throwaway "why in the world was Oberon disguised as a human and couldn't remember anything?" line but it isn't explored, so I assume its addressed in a future book.

-(oh my god Riordan kept him as like. Some sick pet. For a YEAR. she didn't know he was the literal King of Faerie. Fucking hell.)

-his fucking name. Thornton. THORNton. Perfectly human character here hahahaha fuck off.

-and this makes the whole fucking series setup of "toby will be the one to find oberon" way more funny because. Man, mission fucking accomplished. 8 books ago.

-thematically makes sense that he returns in The Brightest Fell, too. Fuck me. fuck me! Bitter irony that Simon is given the impossible task/curse to find Oberon in that book and he was literally like, zonked out two rooms away

-list of "minor/background" characters in this series who later reveal themselves to be Huge Lore Gamechangers: Evening, The Luidaeg, May, August, Janet, and now FUCKING Oberon.

-an entire chapter of Simon apologizing to everyone

- holy fuck? Canon ot3???? Simon/Patrick/Dianda??? OT3? HELLO?????

-the October daye series has a fucking canon ot3 and they're getting married. Alright. Ok. Thanks seanan for my life

-"simon, amandine is just the worst and doesn't deserve you. Come marry me and my wife" is not where I was expecting this to go but like okay I am on board

-so the divorce happens and toby unsurprisingly picks Simon as her legal parent. But August does too. Amandine is pissed... I'm sure that'll be a whole Thing.

-THIS BOOK LITERALLY ENDS WITH SIMON AND PATRICK AND DIANDA GETTING MARRIED I'M

-"I now declare you husbands and wife" asdfhdkskxj

-well that book was a fucking ride. Holy christ. Toby accidentally found Oberon. That was sort of the big overarching thing. Not sure where the story goes from here. Theres some loose ends I already discussed and Evening is still a threat but yeah!

-ok we still have the novella "Shine In Pearl" which seems to be about Simon and Patrick and Dianda pre-series

-this is mostly VERY angsty (but well written) but 👀 at this novella mentioning Dawn as a character who exists outside of like, an offhand mention in the first book. Also referring to Riordan like she's not a minor background character

-calling tybalt an asshole too lol

-christ. Poor simon. Even more context of literally everyone screwing him over. :(( I'm glad it's better now.

[spn-rewrites]

01x10 (part 2)

Season One Episode Ten: Asylum

Summary: exploring the asylum at night was already stressful enough, but add two teenagers just looking for a thrill into the mix and now you’ve got yourself a nightmare

Word Count: 2.8k

“Do you want to talk about what’s bugging you? Why you’re being such a dick?” You asked Dean as you waited outside the clinic where another Dr. Ellicott worked. Sanford Ellicott was dead, unfortunately, but luckily for you, he had a son who carried on his legacy in psychiatric work.

Sam volunteered to go inside and dig up any information on the South Wing and then the tension between you and Dean was building by the second. “I’m not being a dick but this clearly a job for us. I don’t know why you guys are so quick to leave and dismiss it,” Dean answered.

“We’re not trying to dismiss it but the point of coming here was to find John. I thought,” you said, trying to see his face but he kept turning away from you. “That’s what you said right? That he’d be here?”

“Y/n,” he snapped, finally looking at you, “I said at the Roosevelt that I didn’t want to talk about it and that applied to you just as much as it did to Sam.”

“We all have got the same goal, here. Did you forget that? Did you forget that Sam left school to help us? You don’t have to be an asshole because he just wants to find his dad,.” you said, shaking your head. Dean let out a sigh, like maybe he was letting out his anger. “You heard him a few weeks ago. He wants to make things right with John. Maybe that’s why he’s so eager to find him. Ever think of that? How do you think he’ll feel if you find him just a little too late.” You felt guilty for hitting Dean with something so hard but you really had no choice anymore. Dean was too hard headed to see the facts for himself.

He opened his mouth to say something but then the door swung open and Sam stormed out. “Whoa, you were in there for a long time. What’d you guys talk about?” Dean asked, shoving you to the side to catch up with his brother.

You scoffed but followed them anyway. Sam was walking like he was on a mission. “Just the hospital, ya know.”

“And?”

“And the south wing? It’s where they housed the real hard cases - the psychotics, the criminally insane,” Sam explained.

“Sounds cozy,” you commented from behind the brothers. Sam smirked at you and moved over an inch so you could squeeze in between them.

“Yeah, and one night in ‘64, they rioted - attacked the staff, attacked each other.”

“So what, the patients took over the asylum? Any deaths?” Dean asked as they reached the Impala.

“Some patients. Some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“What do you mean never recovered?” You asked.

“Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients much have stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden,” Sam said, cringing at his own words.

“Maybe they ate them,” you teased, raising your eyebrows at Sam. He chuckled and shook his head at you but Dean didn’t find it very funny.

“That’s grim,” he commented.

“Anyway, they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good,” Sam finished his story.

“So to sum it up, we’ve got a bunch of violent deaths and unrecovered bodies. Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits. Great,” you said, clapping your hands and opened the car door.

“Good times. Let’s check out this hospital when the sun goes down,” Dean said, tapping the trunk of the Impala and following your lead to get inside the car.

+

It was a lot darker in the asylum this time around because there was no sun out to shine through the cracked windows. You and Sam had flashlights while Dean ran the EMF reader. The halls in the South Wing were cold and freaky but you kept going. Sam even had a video camera running in hopes of catching a spirit on film.

“Getting any readings?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, big time,” Dean said over the buzzing of the EMF. You tried to look over Sam’s shoulders at the camera but he was too tall. He noticed you struggling, smirked and bent down a little so you could see.

“This place is orbing like crazy,” Sam said. It was. Tiny white dots that could almost be dust, zipping around the camera frame and off the walls. It was enough to spook you. Just the thought of having that many spirits around you at once.

Dean looked at the camera frame and sighed, “there’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

“And if these unrecovered bodies are causing the hauntings?” You asked, referring to the one and only way you knew of getting rid of a ghost - burning the bones.

“We gotta find them and burn them. But be careful though, the only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed-off spirit is a pissed-off spirit of a psycho killer,” Dean joked.

“Yeah and calling them a psycho killer won’t piss them off more,” you deadpanned, shifting on your feet. Who knew how long it would take to find the unrecovered bodies if it came to that and knowing your luck, it would come to that.

The three of you started moving again slowly when a cold blast of air came from behind you. A giant gust of wind. “What was that?” You whispered as the boys pivoted on their feet and turned in the direction that it came from and you were too scared to turn with them but then you did and there was nothing and you turned back around and kept going.

In the same room you were in before, the orbs on Sam’s camera were still going crazy as you explored the room further than you did the last time. The camera landing on the abandoned chairs and around the equipment that would have been used to torture the patients and maybe even the staff during the riot. The thought gave you chills.

Sam lingered behind you a little bit, filming every square inch of the place as you ran your finger over the dusty, old objects that were laid all around. Sam yelled from behind you, the camera slamming shut. Sam yelled for the shotgun and you turned around to see an old lady with dirty hair and ratty clothes coming for Sam and you ran towards the shotgun that was loaded with salt bullets and yelled for Sam to get down. When he was clear, you pulled the trigger and the lady disappeared.

Sam pushed himself off the ground just as Dean ran into the room, “what the hell was that?” He whispered, looking around but all he could see was Sam, breathing heavily and looking spooked and you, holding a shotgun that you had only ever shot maybe three times and it was all practice. Your adrenaline was rushing and you felt good.

“That was weird,” Sam observed.

“You’re telling me,” Dean said, shaking his head and walking away and further into the room.

“No. It was weird because she didn’t attack me,” Sam explained.

“Um, it looked pretty aggro from where I was standing,” you said, remembering her bloody face, her outstretched arms heading straight for Sam’s face.

“She didn’t hurt me. She didn’t even try. If she didn’t want to hurt me, then what did she want?” Sam questioned, looking at you. You were still holding the shotgun and you were ready to shoot again if you had to. The feeling was unlike anything you’d experienced before and you now understood why Dean had always pushed you to practice more. Dean looked back at you, looked at the gun and took it back.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he said, shaking his head but he was in awe more than anything. Shocked and proud.

“Me either,” you commented.

“Seriously, pay attention,” Sam ordered. You smiled at Dean as you guys passed another door, leading into another room but this time there was noise coming from it. Metal clashing and soft whimpers. You nudged Dean’s arm and he pulled up the gun as you and Sam held the flashlights back up so he could see.

The noise was coming from behind an old metal bed frame that was on its side, pushed up against the wall. You inched closer to it, careful to not make any noise. Dean nodded at Sam, who slowly moved the bed out of the way, the metal scratching across the floor and all you could see was blonde hair and a shaking body.

When the bed was fully moved, the girl gasped, turning her whole body around to face the three of you and pushed herself closer to the wall. She was breathing heavy, panicked and afraid. “Put the gun down,” you whispered, lowering Dean’s arm as he uncocked the gun.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna hurt you,” Dean said to her. Her chest was moving up and down so fast and her clothes were dirty with a rip in the fabric on her left arm. “It’s okay,” he said. “What’s your name?” He asked as she finally stood up.

“Katherine. Kat.”

“Okay. I’m Dean, this is Sam and Y/n,” Dean introduced.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked her, still pointing the flashlight at her even though you turned yours towards the ground.

“Um… My boyfriend, Gavin -”

“Is her here?” Dean cut her off. You could tell just by his voice how freaked out he was that she was here and that there could be another person here that we needed to save. You kept thinking about how if you three wouldn’t have showed up tonight that Kat and Gavin could be dead by the morning.

‘Somewhere. He thought it would be fun to try and see some ghosts,” she explained, her breathing slowing down a little bit. “I thought it was all just, ya know - pretend. I’ve seen things. I heard Gavin scream and I -”

“All right, Kat, come on. Sam’s gonna get you out of here,” Dean cut her off again, eager to get her out of there before something bad happened and he grabbed her hand, helping her over the bed frame. “I’m gonna go find your boyfriend,” he said as he pulled her out of the room. She stopped and ripped her hand out of his.

“No, I’m not gonna leave without Gavin. I’m coming with you,” she said.

“It’s no joke. It’s dangerous,” Dean warned. He was right but you also knew that you wouldn’t leave without either one of them if it had come down to it.

“That’s why I want to help find him,” she said.

“Let her come,” you defended her. “I’ll watch her,” you offered. Dean sucked in a breath, rolled his eyes and then let the breath out again.

“Fine. I guess we’re gonna split up, then.” Dean handed you his bag full of weapons, taking a few out for him and Sam. “You gonna be okay?” Dean asked you, putting the bag around your shoulder.

“I can shoot a gun now, remember?” You teased. Dean chuckled and put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently before he and Sam went off in one direction and you and Kat went off in the other to try and find Gavin.

Going off on your own wasn’t your first choice, you admit but a 3-1 advantage wouldn’t have been very fair so you split up evenly and you hoped for the best. Sam gave you a long lingering stare before he rounded the corner into another hall and disappeared.

Kat was trailing behind you as you shone the flashlight around and she screamed Gavin’s name and the only time she stopped was when she asked you, “are you sure you’re able to protect me from all this stuff? Your boyfriend didn’t seem to sure, either.”

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend. Second of all,” you stopped and looked at her, “of course I can protect you from all this stuff. This is my job.” Kat nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “Let me ask you a question.” She nodded. “You’ve seen horror movies, right?”

“Of course.”

“Next time you see one, pay attention. When someone says a place is haunted, don’t go in, yeah?” You said, giving her a fake smile and turning around to continue walking. Kat was quiet the rest of the time, only calling out Gavin’s name every once in a while and you looked in every room and down every hall but you couldn’t find him.

Your flashlight started to flicker, only a few times and then more and more frequently until it shut off completely. “Crap,” you mumbled, shoving it in the bag. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a lighter,” you said to Kat. You tried to spark it, but it was so damp in the hallway that it wasn’t lighting right away.

“Ow, you’re hurting my arm,” Kat mumbled.

“What?” You turned around to look at her, wondering what she was talking about. When she looked back at you and realized your hands weren’t on her, her eyes got wide and your eyes went to her arm which had a bloody, dirty, man hand on it and you went to grab her and pull you away but the man hand whisked her around and into an exam room, slamming the door behind them.

“KAT!” You screamed for her, banging on the door and trying to pull on the handle as hard as you could to open it but there was no use, it wouldn’t open but you had to try so you kicked it and pulled on it and took a metal pole out of your bag and banged that against the door, trying to pry it open but it wasn’t working. She was screaming for help and then it was quiet and then she was screaming again but you couldn’t get the door open.

“Y/N!” You could hear Sam yelling for you.

“SAM!” You yelled back and he followed your voice and him, Dean and Gavin rounded the corner and straight to you. “A spirit pulled her inside and I can’t get the door open!” You explained as grunt escaped your lips from trying to pull open the door. Dean pushed you to the side and tried his hand at opening the door as Sam pulled you into his arms.

Gavin called for Kat as she screamed again and Sam let go of you, putting his hands on the door. “Kat, it’s not going to hurt you. Listen to me, you have to calm down,” Sam said.

“She’s got to what?” You asked from behind him. Dean tried to pull one last time before he stopped and stepped away from the door. You thought he was going to try and kick it in, but he didn’t. “What are you doing?” You hissed at him. He held up one finger as Sam kept talking to Kat through the door.

“They’re not trying to hurt us! They’re trying to communicate. You’ve got to face it!” Sam yelled to her. “You gotta listen to it!”

“You face it!” She screamed from inside the room. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment even if it was inappropriate timing.

“It’s the only way you’re gonna get out of there!” Sam told her. “Look at it, that’s all!” Sam encouraged as she yelled out her reluctancy to do so. It was suddenly quiet, no screaming and no banging.

“I hope you’re right about this,” you mumbled to Sam who let out a sigh and looked at you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” It was quiet and then the door popped out and Dean ripped it open wider, revealing Kat who stood in the doorway. Dean grabbed her arm and moved her out of the way and to Gavin as the three of you entered the room, looking for the ghost but it was gone.

“137,” Kat whispered.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at her. She was shaking as Gavin held on to her.

‘It whispered in my ear 137.”

“Room number,” Sam suggested and bumped Dean’s arm. “Room number.” Dean nodded towards you and you threw the bag of weapons on the ground and he opened it, stuffing everything you guys had out back into it. Sam kneeled down on the ground next to his brother, bringing you with for a huddle. “So if these spirits aren’t trying to hurt us then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe that’s what they’re trying to tell us,” you said.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Dean suggested, throwing the bag over his own shoulder and stood up. “You guys ready to get out of here?” He asked Kat and Gavin, who nodded vigorously. “All right. You get them out of here, I’ll go find room 137,” Dean said, pointing to you Sam before he lit a flashlight and took off down the hall.

tagged:  @matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @jessewa26 @kaelyn-lobrutto24@liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo  rachael-mae

[thesffcorner]

Truly Devious

Truly Devious is the first book in a YA mystery/thriller series written by Maureen Johnson. It follows Steve, a high school junior, who gets accepted to Ellingham Academy, a free private high school founded by Mr Ellingham: a newspaper and steel magnate, who viewed learning as a form of play. She gets admitted to the school because of her peculiar interest in true crime and investigations, specifically because she wants to solve the famous Ellingham mystery: who kidnapped and killed his family. This book got rave reviews; people said it was atmospheric, creepy, clever and I went into it with high expectations, but also a lot of skepticism, mostly because me and YA thrillers don’t tend to always agree.

I can happily say that this book delivers on most of the hype. It’s well written, both the case in the past and the case in the present are interesting, and the characters are well developed. However, I can’t fully recommend it, or even really explain how I feel about it because of the ending, or rather the lack thereof. I don’t mean this is an open ending, I mean there isn’t one. This is a part one to the mystery, and neither the past nor the present case are solved. I imagine we will get the answer in the sequel, but I am apprehensive, because I saw on Goodreads that there will be a third book. I just don’t see how this mystery can be stretched out into even just 2 books, let alone more; as such I might come off as a bit more negative than I probably intended, because half of a mystery is the ending, and without that how can you really be satisfied. Before we talk about that, let’s talk about the setting. The plot is set in Ellingham Academy, a private boarding school in Vermont. It was founded in the 30’s by Albert Ellingham, an incredibly wealthy man, who owns American steel, a newspaper and a production studio. He’s a true tycoon, a man clearly inspired by the likes of Howard Hughes, Joseph Pulitzer and Warren Buffet, self-made millionaires, hard core capitalists and people who as his friend Detective Marsh puts it “think they are invincible”. I like the idea of the Academy, this Montessori type establishment where learning is play, and the curriculum is very specifically tailored to the student’s interests. However, as always, I don’t see why it has to be a special high school, and can’t just be a private college or conservatory, and have the characters be 17-18, instead of 15-16. Ellingham Academy is already described as an old, classic style small, private, liberal arts college, down to being set in the middle of nowhere, on a hill, with a mostly inaccessible road and surrounded by woods. This makes for a possibly interesting atmosphere; this old isolated house, full of mystery and haunted by the past, surrounded by nature, full of an secret passages, tunnels, catacombs, etc. It should have made for an excellent backdrop to this murder mystery, but unfortunately I feel the setting just wasn’t fully utilized. Johnson does spend a great deal of time and effort into meticulously describing the Academy, the Minerva house and the grounds, but her descriptions are very sterile. There’s no sense of atmosphere or tension; a lot of the time it’s just paragraphs explaining what is on what wall, or what is what color and long tangents about the Ellinghams. This is also why I kind of shrug in confusion when I hear people say this book is creepy; nothing that happens and nothing that is said on the page is creepy; it lack proper atmosphere. If you want a book set in a small liberal arts mansion, surrounded by woods, that’s even set in Vermont, try If We Were Villains; even the Charlotte Holmes series did a better job with the setting and atmosphere. The plot really is where this book excels. It’s clear to me that Maureen Johnson is a fan of mystery novels and whodunnits; there are tons of references to Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, and even noir style detective books. The Ellingham mystery is even reminiscent of the case in Murder on the Orient Express; both set during the Prohibition, and both revolving around a cast of characters implicated in the disappearance and murder of a rich, self-made millionaire’s family. There’s talk of politics of the time, a prominent clash between Mr. Ellingham and the anarchists, and the person who confessed to the crime has clearly not committed it. The way the investigation is lead by Steve too was very old school; she makes deductions based on clues and reasoning that all make sense and we can also pick up on as readers, there are clues in the interview transcripts she reads, and in general the case itself was interesting to keep me invested. The main issue with the plot was actually how the present day mystery and the past mystery intersected, which wasn’t helped by the pacing. It takes a long time before the present day story catches up to the past, and especially at the start, I really didn’t care about Ellingham and his plight, because we quickly find out that his wife and daughter are dead, meaning he never found them. So it was just a slow trudge through the motions he took on the day, and then at one point we just top cutting back to the past, because we have to focus on the present day mystery. We only come back to Ellingham in the very, very last chapter. It’s not well balanced, and it doesn’t feel like the present day story and the past are connected at all, other than Steve being interested in solving both. The present day story is interesting, but even still, I’m not sure what Hayes filming his project had to do with the Ellinghams, other than tangentially being related because they are filming a short about the Ellingham mystery. There is a thematic connection, linking to Steve’s assignment about putting a human face on mystery (which was something that really warmed me to the dean of students as a character), but other than that, even the way Steve figures out what happened, has nothing to do with the past mystery. Speaking of Hayes, this book’s other strong suit are the characters. There are plenty of them so I won’t go over all of them, but they are all developed, and interesting enough to hold my attention. Ellingham and his posse were straight out of an Agatha Christie novel; I honestly wish that the book had maybe split it’s time more evenly, focusing on a core character in the past as well as the present, so I could get more easily invested. From the present day, we have a few of the larger parts: Elle, Janelle, Nathan, Hayes and David. Elle was fine; she was very much the type of person you would find in a private boarding school, and I enjoyed how open she was about her personality, body and sex life. It’s always nice to see female characters who are a bit off and are actually in tune with their confidence and body. Janelle was also fine; I liked she was openly out, gets a girlfriend pretty quickly, and though there’s a little jealousy on Steve’s part, they very quickly move past it, and have a healthy, supportive friendship. I really liked their little trio of Janelle, Nate and Steve. Hayes was the typical Youtube star, or at least the general stereotype of someone who is attractive and charming and uses other people to do the actual difficult work for him. I liked that even though he wasn’t the nicest person, the book didn’t demonize him, and acknowledged that he did indeed have talent and could do at least some of the things he claimed he could. Nate was a surprise to me, because I expected the book to take a different direction with him (which it still might in the sequel, but I’m really hoping it won’t). He’s a writer, so he’s mostly there to discuss how difficult and annoying, while at the same time exhilarating writing can be, and I really enjoyed his banter with the other characters. David was interesting; he was kind of abrasive and an asshole, though I almost think he wasn’t enough of an asshole to Steve after what she does to him, and her horrible, non-apology she gives him. The ending caught me off guard, though in hindsight it makes a lot of sense, so I give this book points for this. I won’t spoil it, but this book does have a romance, and I surprisingly didn’t mind it. I expected someone different to be the love interest, and I was pleasantly surprised at how it actually was. Even when the romance starts, the book doesn’t spend too much time using him as a red herring, which I appreciated; I don’t know if this is just a YA thing, or a genre thing left over from noir stories, but why is the love interest always a suspect, but never actually the perpetrator? Finally Steve, who was the best developed and most complete character. I liked that she had a set personality, while there still being room for her to grow. Even though she’s awkward, and shy, she was still funny, still had good banter with the boys and the rest of the school, and was confident and smart enough to solve the present day mystery. I liked her relationship with Larry, I liked her relationship with the other characters, and enjoyed watching her grow, even if I didn’t always agree with her decisions, and thought what she does to David was horrible (and her being angry at him on the bus for helping, instead of at her parents who are the real reason she had to even be in the situation in the first place, was dumb and never addressed). All in all, a decent start to a possibly interesting mystery, depending on the answers we get in the sequel. Not bad, but as an incomplete story, I can’t in good faith recommend it, or rate it any higher, though I still think that if you like classic style mysteries and detectives, you will probably enjoy it.

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 4x14: “Sex and Violence”

What a tiny foreshadowing moment there. with the meat tenderizer.

It makes me incredibly nervous to hear a person talk in that aggressive tone.

Jesus, dude. Just go to the birthday party.

I would leave the house after that.

RIP Vicki.

Sleeping Dean! It‘s nice to see that he’s under the sheets, sometimes he just sleeps on top of them.

Sam having secret phone calls with Ruby. Boy is he dumb, he could’ve easily taken that outside.

But also,, why not work with Dean to find Lilith??? (I know, I know: psychic powers, demon blood drinking, but also...wouldn’t it matter to Dean to find her? Wouldn’t he at least try to find a way to kill her? Would that be too repetitive of S3? Idek.)

He didn’t even close the door. Sam....

“Want me to paint you a picture?” Does the picture include lies and deceit?

Posing as general attorneys.

Huh, so he was aware that their relationship was a good one and that he loved his wife...(Jumping forward to the end of the episode, does that mean that had either Sam or Dean killed the other, they would have snapped out of it and realized what they had done?)

“Her name was Jasmine.”

“She was a stripper?”

“Dude, her name was Jasmine.” This was another instance of me and Dean saying the exact thing at the same time on my first viewing.

I really like the focus on the eyes.

Uh, it’s “muerto” Dean, but good effort.

Dr. Cara Roberts.

Agent Stiles.

(Cara is really pretty, and she’s got a pleasant voice.)

...did she get an ex-boyfriend’s name tattooed on her? Girl, why?

Agent Murdock, but “Agent” is too formal. Call him Dean.

r e j e c t e d.

OOOoooohhh look at that flirting.

(x)

Huh, so John used their college funds on ammo; one of the perps used their kids’ college fund for the strip bar.

How they described their sirens: “Perfect, and everything they wanted.”

Oh my god, Dean. Don’t get too excited.

“Jasmine, Aurora, and Ariel.” The Disney princess shout out. My childhood just took a bit of a blow.

Huh, Dean is doing his job.

“I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left.”

MOTE: siren

Special shout out to Dean who knows/has read “The Odyssey.”

(x)

“Let me guess, ‘Welcome to the Jungle.’ No, no. Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’”. I’m personally a “Pour Some Sugar On Me” kind of gal.

“Their song is more of a metaphor.”

“If you were a siren in ‘09 looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up shop?” A strip bar. Very clever.

“So whatever floats the guy’s boat, that’s what they look like?”

“Yeah, you see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves.” Oohh, you don’t freaking say.

The Siren was right freaking there.

“Hey, Belle.”

So for Lenny, he wanted someone who admired his love and dedication to his mother?

OH GOD THEIR TRUE FACES ARE HORRIBLE.

(x)

Well, she’s direct about her wanting to kill his mom.

RIP Lenny’s mom. That is truly terrible.

Dean just angrily staring at Sam’s phone, then decides to confirm his worst thought: Sam’s been talking to Ruby behind his back.

Dean shows a lot of restraint; he doesn’t even sound the tiniest bit angry when talking to Sam. I’m impressed.

Bobby, my man!

“A bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor under the spell of the song.”

That’s kinda obvious guys...

“Supernatural STD.”

Cara only addressed Sam, but not Dean. That’s rude.

Dean gets a taste of the “third wheel” game.

Convenient freaking timing, bud.

Nick Munroe.

Our first look into how Bobby handles phones. I love it, and I love how Dean has kept up this method.

(x)

The “lone wolves” excuse, shut up Dean.

I can’t believe Dean is reluctant to go to the strip bar.

Nick knows and compliments the Impala...

Welp, the blood’s gone.

Dean’s not even looking at the strippers.

So sirens don’t have specific “songs”, but Nick and Dean are bonding over Led Zeppelin.

Huh, the convenient flower...

Same ones in Cara’s office.

“Haven’t you ever been in a relationship where you really loved somebody and still kinda wanted to bash their head in?” Can’t tell if this alludes to Dean or Ruby.

Also, y i k e s. I’m pretty sure a good relationship isn’t supposed to be like that??? Am I wrong or what??

Drinking on the job! 

Huh, so they got divorced and then he died?

“So you two split up?”

“I suppose that’s a word for it.” “He died” is the better ‘word’ tho.

S A M. Your ONLY plan has a huge dent in it, and you can’t even bother telling Dean about it, goddamnit.

Ohhh, sexy fun times coming up.

(Aren’t there security cameras in that office? Cara probably, at least, got in trouble for this.)

It was really plausible that Cara was the siren.

Sam’s hunch was right.

That was the most unconvincing “no” I’ve heard.

“What’s it with you and banging monsters?” That’s a fair question (except Cara ain’t no monster.)

Ouch.

Control that anger, Sam.

Dean calls Bobby, leaves a message, then immediately calls Nick.

How can someone look so shady going into a bar?

Nick making his own pop culture references...then follows Dean’s lead with little hesitation. He also loved Led Zeppelin and admired the Impala. Perfect, and everything Dean wants.

OOHH THAT TINY FATAL MISTAKE.

(x)

O H THAT METAPHORICAL BASS DROP THOOO

(Plot twist. I meant to say “plot twist”, couldn’t find the words for it, and called it a “metaphorical bass drop” instead. Fuck it, I’m keeping it in.)

Surprise, Sam! Your brother wants to kill you!

(x)

“You’re one butt ugly stripper.”

Ok, but why go after Dean first? If Nick had gone after Sam, would he have still been a man? Or did he sense Sam’s attraction to Cara and decided to leave him alone?

“You poisoned him.”

“No, I gave him what he needed. And it wasn’t some bitch in a G-string. It was you. A little brother that looked up to him, that he could trust. And now he loves me.”

“I mean, watching someone kill for you? it’s the best feeling in the world.” Yikes.

Reading is fundamental; the library is open folks!

“You’re hiding things from me. What else aren’t you telling me?”

“We used to be in this together. We used to have each other’s backs.”

“You know why I didn’t tell you about Ruby, and how we’re hunting down Lilith? Because you’re too weak to go after her, Dean. You’re holding me back. I’m a better hunter than you are. Stronger, smarter.” 

“You’re too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in Hell. Boo hoo.”

Sam’s being a complete asshole, at least Dean’s complaints were legitimate.

They’re gonna have to pay for that door.

Couldn’t he just open the little door to get the ax?

BOBBY!

(Kinda loved how he stabbed Dean with no hesitation, lol.)

FUCK YEAH BOBBY!

RIP siren.

Yeah Sam, now you gotta acknowledge the fact that you just spilled your mean beans.

Bobby’s a responsible surrogate father. :’)

And like a father, he’s reprimanding them for not doing their jobs thoroughly.

The most unconvincing “we’re fine” ever.

And again, like the great surrogate dad he is, he reassures them.

“You gonna say goodbye to Cara?”

“Not interested.” Ouch.

O H You’re both liars.

[midtownsciences]

Bound to Lose

Part Two

Pairing: Peter x reader

Summary: Peter and (Y/N) have broken up, and (Y/N) wants nothing to do with her ex-boyfriend. Peter respects her wishes, until he stumbles across her one day — as Spider-Man.

Warnings: more angsttt, the reader is angry and says some things 

A/N: this fic is still inspired by Lose My Mind by Dean Lewis. Huge s/o to @thekillingquill for her expert advice for this chapter <3

Part One

“I only lose my mind when I ain’t got you

and how can I win when I’m always bound to lose”

Peter watched (Y/N) from across the cafeteria. She sat with Michelle, but her mind was somewhere else. She pushed her food around her plate with a fork, staring through the table, jolting when Michelle nudged her out of her stupor and placed a comforting hand on her arm. When (Y/N) wasn’t looking, Michelle shot Peter a glance so vicious he finally understood the phrase “if looks could kill”.

He knew the breakup was as difficult for (Y/N) as it was for him. There were times when she would show up to class with bloodshot eyes and a red nose, tears staining the sleeves of her sweatshirt. It broke his heart to know that she was hurting, but what could he do? He was the last person she wanted to be around. She hadn’t spoken to him since the breakup; she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

And Peter wanted to talk to her, beg for forgiveness and start over, but he had no right. Yes, she was hurting, but it was Peter that had caused it. He had lied to her for so long. Who could blame her for giving up on him? In truth, he didn’t deserve her in the first place. When you’re two people at once, you’re bound to lose some parts of yourself along the way. (Y/N) deserved someone who could give her every part of himself. But Peter couldn’t give up being Spider-Man—not when there were people who needed his help.

He thought about telling her. She wouldn’t take it well, he knew that for sure. She probably wouldn’t forgive him, either. He had used her. Every day, Peter saw humanity at its worst, foiling muggings and theft and assault, but he would forget it all when he climbed through her window at night. For months, she was his anchor. Being in her presence (even when she was asleep) was a relief that he couldn’t comprehend. When she wrapped her arms around him, he felt all the weight tumbling from his chest. He could breathe again. She was his sun; she cut through the dark and he basked in her light, but he gave her nothing in return.

Come morning, Peter would be fully recovered. He’d climb out of her window without a second thought. Some mornings he made it out without waking her, others he had to lie through his teeth about where he was going and what he was doing. He hadn’t realised it was hurting her, hadn’t known it would cost him their relationship.

He was sick with the guilt of what he had put her through, of the complete disregard he had had for her. Even as Spider-Man, the remorse ate through him, sloshing around in his stomach like molten lead. The weight of it was so great he feared his webs would no longer be able to support him when he swung from one building to the next.

(Y/N)’s gaze flicked up to meet his across the cafeteria, and his breath caught in the back of his throat. Her eyes widened, cheeks reddened. Peter’s brow creased and he drew on all his pain and heartbreak to plead with her from across the room. She looked away, but not before he saw the heartbreak reflected right back at him.

 “I know that I broke all your rules

Now you’re looking at me, and I’m looking at you like a fool”

Peter was not following his ex-girlfriend.

He had been sitting on a balcony, playing Tetris on his phone (it was a slow day for crime), when he happened to see (Y/N) appear from the subway. He watched her weave through a crowd lined up beside a hot-dog cart, eyes glued to her phone. She was chewing on her lip the way she would when she was nervous. A man in a suit dodged out of her way as she marched down the sidewalk, so transfixed by whoever she was texting that she barely glanced up to see where she was walking.

(Y/N) was a disaster waiting to happen. That’s why Peter followed her. Not because he was desperate to find out who had captivated her attention so successfully over text. Not because she looked beautiful in her little dress, and he wanted to see where she was going (and who she was seeing) in an outfit like that. Not even because it was a school night and they had homework, so where had she been and why wasn’t she at home studying for their physics test? No. It was because she was distracted and flustered and a danger to herself and others.

So he stuck to the rooftops, following her at a safe distance. Not that she would see him if he was on the ground; he could walk right beside her in his Spider-Man suit and she wouldn’t so much as give him a second glance.

She was becoming increasingly frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed at her phone, thumbs tapping furiously across the screen. She trudged across the sidewalk towards the road. Peter glanced up, catching sight of a yellow cab barrelling down the street. Surely she’ll see it, he thought. She’ll look before she crosses.

She did not.

Peter dived off the roof, slinging a web towards a building and swinging towards her. She hopped off the curb, took another step. The cab driver’s eyes widened. He was going so fast, he couldn’t stop in time. Breaks squealed as he blasted the horn and (Y/N) glanced up, the colour draining from her cheeks.

He caught her just in time, his grip tight around her waist as he dragged her through the air, dropping her back onto the sidewalk. A chorus of applause erupted from the diners outside a restaurant who had watched the whole thing. (Y/N) would have been mortified, if she hadn’t felt like she might collapse.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, barely masking the shake in his voice.

(Y/N) didn’t answer. She stared off after the cab, now long gone, eyes wide. Her breath came in short pants through her parted lips. If she had been any paler, Peter might have thought she was dead.

“Miss?”

She shook her head, dislodging the panic that gripped her thoughts and ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I-I’m okay,” she breathed. “I’m fine. Th-thank you.”

“Of course,” he answered. He cleared his throat, focused on disguising his voice. “Would you mind if I walked you home?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, it’s just that”—he gestured towards her trembling hands—“you’re a little shaken up. It doesn’t feel right, to leave you like this.”

(Y/N) shoved her hands in her pockets, staring at her feet. “Yeah. I guess that’d be nice. If you could.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s no problem.”

They walked in silence for a few blocks until (Y/N)’s phone rang. She ignored the call, slipping her phone into her pocket. “I don’t know if I said it earlier,” she began, “but thank you. I really owe you one.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” he shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s a huge deal. You saved my life!” she enthused, beginning to feel the effects of the adrenaline coursing through her. “I almost just got wiped out by a taxi. If you hadn’t been here—”

“Don’t,” he blurted. He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t imagine a world without (Y/N), and he didn’t want to. “Don’t say it.”

(Y/N) looked at him quizzically, opened her mouth to say something but her phone began to ring again.

“You should probably get that,” Peter remarked. “It could be important.”

She sighed, dragged her phone out of her pocket and answered the call.

“Michelle?” she answered. Peter’s ears pricked up. “I know, I’m a little busy right now... No, I know… I’ve told you already, you can’t just—yes, I know that. I already did, he doesn’t need to hear it from you, too… Can you just-can you just give it some time? Maybe he needs time… MJ, I have to go. Just promise me you won’t say anything, okay? Good… Okay, I’ll see you in school. Bye.”

(Y/N) huffed in frustration as she put her phone away, hands shoved in her jacket pockets.

“Is Michelle the reason you almost walked out in front of a cab?” Peter asked quietly.

She huffed again as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Kind of. Yeah,” she nodded.

“What happened?”

She glanced up at him, seeming to consider whether or not she could tell him, before looking down at her feet as they trudged across the pavement. “My friend is… well, she’s opinionated. She can be a little argumentative. When she gets an idea in her head, it’s hard to talk her out of it.”

“So, what are you trying to talk her out of?”

“Confronting someone,” she shrugged, though there was a weight to it that told Peter she was anything but nonchalant about the issue. “A guy. My um… my ex-boyfriend.”

Peter’s heart folded in on itself. He used to revel in the word “boyfriend” when it was breathed through her lips: he had only ever heard her use it to refer to him. With one syllable, she had taken a broadsword to their relationship, and sliced it clean in half.

“Ex, huh?” he said, fighting hard to keep his voice level. “Why does your friend want to confront him?”

“She’s just looking out for me. He uh… he hurt me pretty bad.”

Peter glanced at her, and it was all he could do not to rip the mask off right then and tell her everything. She was so close, but they couldn’t have been further apart. “Sounds like an asshole,” he muttered, kicking the pavement as he walked.

She smiled softly, but her eyes were all sadness and unshed tears. “No. He isn’t. That’s why it hurt so much to lose him.”

Even though he wanted to change the subject, couldn’t stand to hear about all the different ways he hurt her, he had to know. This was his chance to finally understand how she felt. She had ignored all his calls and texts since the breakup. She couldn’t talk to Peter, but she could talk to Spider-Man. “Why did you guys break up?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I guess I couldn’t take it anymore. He lied. A lot. About things that he shouldn’t have had to lie about, you know? Like, he’d lie about where he was going, and who he was with. For months. It was driving me crazy. The only thing that made sense in the end is that he was seeing someone else.”

“He wasn’t cheating on you,” Peter blurted. She startled, glancing at him with her eyebrows raised. “I mean, probably. He probably wasn’t cheating on you. You know, he- he’d have to be an idiot to cheat on someone like you.”

“Even still,” she said, throwing him a suspicious glance. “He lied to me. And he couldn’t explain himself when I called him out on it. There was something going on and he kept it from me.”

Peter scoffed. They had reached (Y/N)’s apartment building, and stopped a few yards from the door. “He sounds like a real dumbass.”

“No,” (Y/N) laughed coldly. Her sadness had drained away, replaced with contempt written all over her face—in her narrowed eyes, the firm set of her jaw. “He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. That’s what pissed me off the most; this guy, who was a straight A student, is going to have his choice of any college he wants, thought I was dumb enough to believe all his bullshit lies. It was insulting.” She paused, taking a deep breath, before looking up at him from underneath a furrowed brow. “Do you want to know the worst part?”

He bit his lip under the mask, nodding despite not really wanting to know at all.

“The worst part, is that he wasn’t even hot.”

“He wasn’t.” Peter had intended the phrase as a question, but it fell from his gaping mouth as a flat statement.

“Nope,” (Y/N) replied shortly. Her eyebrows were raised, lips turned down at the corners. “He’s short, for one. And his hair was always combed back like he stepped straight out of a twelve-year-old’s school portrait from the eighties. Oh, and his voice! His voice still cracks like he’s struggling to get through puberty. I guess that’s why he couldn’t just man up and be honest with me.”

“I- I’m sure his voice wasn’t—”

“And to top it all off—the icing on the cake—he made me feel like crap,” she spat. “I thought he was betraying me. He lied to my face and let me believe he was seeing other girls behind my back, when in reality, he was running around the streets of Queens in red latex, calling himself a superhero!”

Peter stood in front of her, mouth hanging open, as she stared daggers into his mask. Her words manoeuvred, slotting themselves into place in his mind. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied pathetically.

“How dumb do you think I am, Peter?”

“P-Peter? Who’s Peter?”

She scoffed, her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she bit it to keep from screaming at him. “Well, you sure as hell sound like him. And you walked me home without any directions. You made every turn without hesitation. Then we arrived at my apartment building, and you stopped before I did. Either you’re Peter Parker, or your powers include reading minds.”

“I’m not Peter,” he insisted.

(Y/N) stared off into the distance, shaking her head in amazement. “I’m going inside,” she said resignedly, turning on her heel.

“(Y/N), wait!”

At this, she halted. “I never told you my name was (Y/N),” she called over her shoulder.

Peter slouched. It was over. He reached out to touch her arm lightly, and she turned to face him. He flinched at her expression: completely deadpan save for the accusation in her eyes. “No one is supposed to know,” he said quietly, reaching up to pull the mask from his head. “It’s supposed to be a secret. And the only reason Ned knows—”

“You told Ned?” she asked, and the anger was gone from her tone, but the way she swallowed thickly, as if she couldn’t stand the taste of the words, gave away how hurt she was.

“N-no! No, that’s not- look, I can explain, okay?”

“Don’t bother,” she muttered.

“It’s not- it’s not as bad as you think,” he insisted. “I never meant to hurt you!”

“But you lied to me,” she reminded him. “You kept it from me, and even when you knew it was bothering me, you knew I believed the worst, you still didn’t tell me. You chose to keep this secret, knowing that I would walk away. Did I really mean that little to you?”

Peter stared at her with wide eyes. His mouth hung open, but he couldn’t answer her. He didn’t know where to begin.

“And you would’ve let me go, too,” she said. “If you hadn’t walked me home today, we would’ve gone to school tomorrow and I still wouldn’t know about any of this. You would just let me go. God, you’re unbelievable.”

“Please, (Y/N),” Peter said, his voice cracking. His vision swam through tears, but he was determined not to let them fall. “I’ll explain everything. I’ll tell you everything, just- just—”

“It’s a little late for that, Peter,” (Y/N) told him. She turned her back on Peter and his tears did fall, her words playing on a loop through his mind. She sounded so tired, so done. She had given up on this fight. She had given up on him.

Part Three

tags: @jvghead-jones-iii

[lilyleely]

In-Law (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: She loved him and she watched him go. In a fit of sorrow, she threw herself in the arms of a stranger, not expecting to land herself in the current situation. 

Word Count: 2268

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you for your love thus far and thank you for taking your time to read this series! 

PART 1

The breakfast was awkward for the female as she watched her sister and Sam intimately conversing with each other. What distracted her even more was the fact that Dean, her new brother, was brushing his foot against hers constantly. It caused her cheeks to bleed red, to which she tried to hide with her palm.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” Her eyes trailed over to Sam who seemed concerned by her growing red cheeks.

“Your face is flushed. Are you feeling sick?”

The red on her cheeks grew darker, “No, no! I’m fine. Perfect. Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”

“Must be your imagination. It’s pretty cold in here,” Dean chuckled darkly.

“I hope you aren’t sick,” her sister worried, a frown apparent on her face. “Her colds last forever.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that.” Sam smiled at Y/N, “Since we’re all finished eating, I’ll go pay so you can go sleep off that cold.”

She nodded, glancing away from the man as her blush stained her whole face. Inwardly, she was celebrating the fact he remembered a minisicule detail about her that she told him during their rendezvous at the cafe. It meant that he hadn’t forgotten about their time spent together years ago.

The giddy smile that broke on her face didn’t go unnoticed by the older Winchester as he fiercely glared at her with a disgusted look. She didn’t pay attention to him, keeping her gaze on her empty plate, waiting for her blush to die down.

“You guys go on ahead. We’ll meet up by the entrance,” her sister stated as she shooed them off. The two nodded and traveled outside.

Standing ten feet apart from each other, there was an awkward tension between them, but for different reasons unbeknownst to the both of them. Y/N, hoewever, wanted to get to the bottom of things.

“What the hell are you plotting?”

Dean’s eyebrow quirked up, “Excuse me?”

“What are you trying to do? You think it’s funny to embarrass me in front of your brother?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re ruining yourself on your own accord.”

“I know my feelings are none of your concern. Frankly, I could care less about you too, but for the sake of our siblings, we should try to make this work.”

“You don’t care for your sister. This is about you pleasing my brother.”

“...What?” She was beyond stunned by his words, rendering her speechless.

“It’s written all over your face. The only thing you care about is being a Winchester and  getting down my brother’s pants, which is why you feel bitter by the fact your sister married my brother.”

“Well shit, you have me all figured out,” she snapped, sarcasm heavy in her words.

“I want to be a Winchester so bad, I’m pissing off the younger one!”

“You’re probably finding some excuse to whine to my brother to steal him away from your sister.”

The hand that connected with his cheek was as loud as a clap and everything around them fell silent. “You’re disgusting.”

His cold gaze locked with her hurt ones, causing his lips to press together in a tight line. He didn’t expect that reaction from her.

“Y/N, Sam wanted to ask you for a favor before you -Oh! What happened here?”

Her eyes averted away from her sister, “I’m leaving. Just drop me a text of what you need and I’ll do it.” Her voice wavered, and she quickly stalked away to the parking lot, leaving her sister in a confused state.

“Dean, your cheek is red. Did Y/N do something?”

Dean directed his attention to his sister-in-law and shrugged, “Don’t worry about it.”

Right on cue, Sam returned from paying the bill, his eyes instantly went straight to the hand-print mark on his brother’s cheek, “I suppose you finally got to know Y/N then.”

Dean exhaled loudly. He didn’t think he would meet such a troublesome girl, let alone, a messed up one like her. But the power behind her slap really peaked his interest.

“I don’t think I read the text right, but you want me to what?” Y/N asked her sister on the phone. She paced around the living room of her medium-sized apartment, dressed in an oversized shirt and elephant printed socks as part of her sleepwear.

“Please show Dean around the city, and where his office will be.”

Y/N grabbed and threw her purse several times onto the counter in anger, then stalking to her refrigerator to look at her calendar. She clicked her tongue at her availability, granted it was her day off from work. “Can’t Sam--”

“We’re family now, so we need the both of you to get along.”

We get along quite well in bed just so you know, she mentally said. Outside the bedroom? Not so much.

“Shouldn’t you take him? He is more of your brother-in-law than he is mine.”

“Y/N, it’s important to me that you get along with Dean. I’m happy you are friends with my husband, it really is great, but I need you to at least be on better terms with Dean.”

A sigh tore through her throat as she rubbed her temple with her free hand. There was still an ongoing debate in her head, but the gnawing feeling of hurt triumphed over her mind.

‘Her husband,’

Thos two words sliced her deeper than what the idiot older brother said.

“I understand Dean can be difficult. He’s just awfully protective of his younger brother, so having another person in their circle makes him more hostile,” her sister explained. “I’m not going to ask what happened between the both of you earlier today--”

“Okay, okay. Fine,” she groaned. “I’ll show him around.”

There was a sigh of relief from the other end. “Thank you, Y/N. I knew I can count on you!”

Glancing at her watch, she huffed in annoyance as the seconds ticked away. It was already past 10 in the morning and far too early for her to be up on her day off.

Unfortunately for her, Dean was still a no-show which further irritated the female. Being an event planner, it was all about promptness, molding this pet-peeve of tardiness in her.

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath as the hand landed on the 6. “10.30, and he--”

“Is here,” a familiar voice interrupted. Startled, she whipped her head to the side to see Dean smirking at her.

Wearing a black tshirt that clung onto his body nicely, a red plaid flannel over it, and dark blue jeans. This man was too handsome. He had the kind of face that stops you in your tracks. I guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way.

“I’m doing you a favor, and you’re late.”

The plastic bag he held onto was ushered into her hands, “I was told you like this.”

She sent him a suspicious glance, but the way he crossed his arms meant that he was unhappy about something. She pulled the bag open and peeked inside.

“I do like this type of snacks, but why are you giving me this”

He didn’t want to say anything, but her persistent silence refused to let it go.

“I was harsh on you last Monday.”

He wasn’t going to apologize, that much she was sure of. If she demanded an apology, she felt he would create another war between them both, which would undo the thoughtfulness of the present him. Plus, all she wanted to do was please her sister and Sam.

“Thanks for this,” she mumbled.

He shrugged, “Let’s get this over with.”

Shaking her head softly, Y/N guided Dean away from the plaza and into the subway. When they arrived at their destination, she pointed at one of the tallest buildings in the city, citing that this was his building. She refused to enter with him while he inspect his office and speak to the man he was taking over for.

It took less than an hour for him to return, all the while she waited patiently at a nearby fast food restaurant.

“Typical,” Dean muttered as he joined her in an isolated booth. He faced her with a scowl, arms crossed as he eased into the comfort of his seat.

“You didn’t enjoy your time with your boss?” the female hummed as she took a sip of her beverage. The remnants of her lunch were scattered around the table, evidence that she had eaten without him.

“You enjoyed your lonesome lunch?” he roterted.

Her eyebrows twitched, though she noticed his discomfort. “You must he angry that I ate a delicious burger while you had to endure with those business people.”

“For starters, that man is not my boss,” he corrected her, his hands reaching over to grab a fry, throwing it in his mouth. 

“Secondly, I think you make a bad tour guide. You failed to feed me. No wonder your event company is so low-leveled. It has incompetent employees bringing it down.”

“Oh sure, go ahead, make fun of my job too. There’s a lot about me that can’t match up to the Winchester’s name, that I agree, but at least I have the decency to shut my mouth when I’ve crossed the line,” she replied acidly as she referred to what happened last week.

He remained silent, analyzing her angered expression.

“So you’re a person who owns three cats and loves her job.”

“...Is that an insult?” She cracked a smile, “That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say.”

“You’re laughing now?” He scoffed.

She attempted to stifle her laughter, but his words replayed in her mind.

“Cats? Freaking Cats? Here you were, insulting my family and me, and then pull that lame insult out of your ass? It’s hilarious!”

Her laughing was contagious, even to Dean.  His narrowed eyes softened up as a small smile formed on his lips. “You’re weird. I bet you don’t have any friends.”

“And you’re very childish, also an asshole. You probably only have enemies,” she stated between giggles. “But at least I’m the best at my job.”

“Yeah right,” he chuckled as he glanced away. There was amoment of silence as Dean pondered over her statement.

“Hey, wanna test it out?”

“Test what?”

“How good you are at your job.”

Her eyebrows rose with interest. “Go on, I’m listenng.”

“The Winchester firm is celebrating the retirement of the man I’m taking over. I’ll recommend you to be the event planner. If you don’t fail, they’ll probably hire you as a permanent planner.”

“That sounds like the perfect challenge.”

“If you fail, which I’m 99% sure about, you’ll be left in the streets for sure and the Winchester family will ruin you.”

“...My brother is an asshole.”

“I’m not your brother.”

Their eyes met, and she could feel his heated state burning through her. The sexual tension proved they couldn’t consider each other as siblings even if their own siblings married each other. Not even that marriage could hold back the connection these two owned.

“It’s a deal then.”

His smirk grew, plagued with his permanent cockiness. However, she was ready to prove him wrong.

The next few days, Y/N anxiously waited any phone call from the Winchester company regarding her employment. She was completely wrapped up with the challenge that Dean proposed, she hadn’t noticed how large scale the party proved to be;  she hadn’t realized that Dean’s position was so far up in the company ladder that they could in fact ruin her.

She only found out an hour upon her return from the excursion, googling the name of the retiring man. Apparently, he was third in command, and for Dean’s young age of 25, it was a huge accomplishment for him to be presiding over that job.

He wasn’t lying when he warned her how the Winchester company would ruin her if she happened to fail.

“Y/N, can you come to my office?” her bass called, gaining the attention of all the employees on the floor. The middle-aged woman signaled her over with two fingers with a stern gaze.

“We need to talk.”

That’s never a good sign.

Her heart sped up as she fumbled out of her work space, her feet hastily traveling towards the grand office her boss occupied.

“Y-yes?” She quietly closed the door behind her and sat in the chair across her boss’ table.

“I don’t know what, why or how, but we are going to be the event planners for an event hosted by the Winchesters.” Her eyebrows rose, intuitively guessing it was she that arranged this.

The marriage between her sister and Sam was no secret in the business world as it caught quite the attention; a no-name engineer marrying the soon to be CEO of Winchester Enterprise? Yeah, that was an eye-catcher.

“That’s great!”

“You definitely had something to do with this since they asked for you to be the head planner.”

“W-what?” Now that came as a shock to her.

She had expected Dean to request a more experienced person to be in charge, but it was apparent that he was taking this challenge far too seriously.

“I know you are more than capable, but you have never done an event this large scaled. This is an important company we want to impress, so I expect no mistakes. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?”

“I won’t let you down!” Y/N replied determinedly.

Challenge accepted, Dean Winchester.

Tag beans: @bradygabrielle-blog @lilypalmer1987 @formulafun @ihavesympathyforthedevil @thebikiniinspector @spnwoman​

Dean/Jensen Beans: @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @tas898

Forever my mochis: @foreverrollpatrol @mogaruke​

[sunlightdances]

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: PG Warnings: Tiny bit of angst... hurt feelings? Is that a warning I need to have?  Summary: You and Dean kind of have this thing going on. He makes fun of you, you make fun of him, and it’s all in good fun. Usually. When you have your first serious fight ever, things come to a head. Author’s Note: Hey, hi. I’ve been a bit absent for awhile. Sorry! Also: I still have some requests to complete and I swear I will get them done. This just popped in my head, so I had to write it. Also I’m posting this late, as you can tell by the topical sports reference that isn’t so topical anymore. Oh well.

You bite back a grin as you hear Dean laugh on the other side of the war room. He doesn’t know you’re here yet, and you had texted him a half hour ago to let him know that you’re totally kicking his ass in the March Madness bracket that you, he, and Sam signed up for.

You and Sam come into view, and you watch his face turn delighted as he sees you, his eyes sparkling. 

“Well I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Miss Sass herself.” He says, sauntering towards you. His arms go tight around you as he lifts you up in a hug, and you smile, laughing lightly.

“I can’t help it that you suck at picking your teams.” 

“You totally sent that because you knew you’d be here to see my face.”

You shrug. “So?”

“You’re an asshole.” He tells you, but he’s still smiling. “Come on, let’s get you settled.” He swings his arm around your shoulders and walks with you to your room, taking your bag from your hands. “For the record, no one knew Kansas was going to lose.”

“I did.” You say, smug. “In fact, I’m pretty sure if you look at my bracket--”

“Alright, alright. I already owe you dinner if you win. Let’s save the bragging until after Sam gets eliminated.” 

“Rude.” Sam says, offended. 

You grin again. You missed them a lot. It’s not often you go off on your own, but you had some friends to check up on, and you have to admit it was nice to have Sam and Dean checking in on you while you were gone.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything that Dean was the one doing the checking, most days.

You and Dean have an interesting relationship. There’s a current running through it - one that you never talk about. You barely allow yourself to think about it. It’s a current filled with lingering touches and sexual tension, and you file those deep down away.

The rest of it-- well. You guys pick on each other like friends do. He makes fun of you and seems to enjoy you trying to one-up him. There’s always a bet going on, and he’s always ribbing you. 

Still, you can’t help but thinking that one day it’s all going to boil over. Again though, that’s one thing you never let yourself think too hard about.

“Kid?” Dean asks elbowing you. “Come on. Stop daydreaming about the steak dinner you’re going to demand I make you and let’s get you settled.”

“Shut up.” You say, but you follow him down the hall.

The guys leave you alone to get settled and changed, and you meet them in the kitchen after. Sam is at his laptop, and Dean is puttering around by the stove. 

“Sit.” He tells you, and you make a face. He must notice, because he rolls his eyes. “Sorry... please sit down and let me put some food in front of you?”

“You don’t have to--” you protest immediately.

“Yes he does,” Sam interrupts, “because you’re not fooling anyone. We know you haven’t been sleeping well, and you need to eat a real meal.”

“Are you a doctor?” 

“I can’t believe you’re objecting to my cooking. This hurts me, here.” Dean says, gesturing towards his heart.

“Oh, my god. Just give me a plate already.” 

Dean grins in triumph, and Sam smirks at you over his laptop, ignoring your glare. The three of you eat in relative silence, Dean having whipped up some kind of pasta and chicken dish. This is another thing you love about the guy - he can cook. 

“So.” Sam starts, looking at you, “Are you sticking around for awhile?”

You swallow, looking nervously at Dean and Sam. “Um, yeah. I think?” 

“You think.” Dean’s voice is flat.

“I just-- I have a few things I was researching that I want to finish.”

“We can help you.” Sam points out. “They’ll be finished faster that way.”

You nod, looking back at your plate, pushing your food around a little bit. “Maybe I was looking forward to not sharing a bathroom with you guys.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam smiles gently. A glance at Dean shows his jaw is still clenched and you have to admit you’re a little confused by his reaction. It’s not like you’re leaving today, after all. 

“It’s dangerous for you to be out on your own.” Dean says, not looking at you.

“I’ve been managing fine,” you point out, keeping your tone light. 

“The last time you went off by yourself I had to give you stitches when you came back.” He argues, and you make a face at him, because why is he bringing that up now? 

It’s-- you’re not against hunting with the Winchesters. They’re good to have on your side and more often than not, you need their help anyway. Sometimes, though, it’s nice to be alone for a little while. Helps keep you sharp, and keep you centered. You didn’t think you needed to explain that to anyone.

“I mean-- next time you can let me bleed to death, if you want.” 

Dean grinds his teeth. “That’s not funny.” 

Sam looks between both of you warily. “Okay. I’m going to go... somewhere else.” 

“Traitor.” You mumble under your breath, and take a deep breath before looking up at Dean. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay?”

Dean laughs bitterly. “Right. Where do your parents think you are right now?”

“Why does it matter--”

“Because it’s starting to look like you just come here when you need a bed to sleep in and some dinner!” Dean says, harsh, and you recoil.

“Wow.” You say, laughing even though you don’t find anything remotely funny about it.

He sighs, running a hand over his face. “Kid, I didn’t--”

“It’s fine, Dean. I’ll just go sleep in a bed so I can be out of your hair by morning.”

“Don’t--”

“Don’t what?” You ask, feeling helpless. You’re not sure why he’s suddenly so angry at you, but you hate the way he’s looking at you right now. 

“Nothing. Never mind.” He says, defeated.

“Right.”

You leave the room as quick as you can, heading for the bathroom. You decide to take a long hot shower and hope that the Bunker is big enough that you won’t have to see Dean again before you hit the road tomorrow. You were hoping that you could stay a few days before taking off again, but you’re not sure you want to if he thinks you’re just using them for the comforts of the bunker.

.

.

You spend longer than necessary in the bathroom. You manage to calm down, but you have to push back the hurt feeling blooming in your chest at the reminder of Dean’s face when he said those things to you in the kitchen.

You’re distracted, so your heart jolts when you come into the room you’ve claimed as yours and see Dean sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Oh.” He says, when he looks up and sees you, in just your pajamas, your hair in a towel. 

“You need something?” You ask, rifling through your bag for your hairbrush. “I was getting ready for bed.”

“We need to talk about this.” Dean says, sounding tired.

You look at him, confused. “I don’t think we really need to get into it again. I’m sorry if I’ve been overstaying my welcome.” You find your hairbrush, and then get angry again as you think back on your earlier words to each other. “Actually, you know what? No. I’m not sorry. You make no sense. First you act like you want me to stay, and then you’re telling me I’m using you. So which is it?” 

He looks up at you, pained. “That’s not what I meant.”

You roll your eyes, running the brush through your hair. “Okay. Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll be out of here before lunch tomorrow.” 

You turn your back to him, hoping that he’ll take the hint that you don’t want to talk anymore.

He doesn’t get the message, apparently, because the next thing you know, he’s behind you, grabbing your elbow to make you look at him. “You don’t have to leave.” His eyes are intense. He speaks again, barely a whisper. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

You quickly grow frustrated. “What are you talking abo-” 

He cuts you off by leaning down and kissing you, hard. You’re frozen for a few seconds, unable to comprehend what’s happening. Finally, your eyes slide closed and you lean into Dean, letting out a muffled moan against his lips.

He pulls away from you after a few seconds, his eyes dark and glazed over. You don’t know what to say, so you just stare at him, relishing in the way his eyes dance over your face like he can’t decide where to look. 

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I just-- we’re always joking with each other and I could never tell how you actually felt.” He swallows, shaking his head. “I just felt like you couldn’t wait to get out of here.” 

You frown. “I love being here. You know that.” 

He smiles a little sheepishly. “I hoped. I just feel like we have this line, you know? We tease and we flirt but we never cross it. But I’m tired of pretending.” 

“I am too.” You admit. 

“So you’ll hang out for awhile? Or at least let us come on this hunt with you?” He asks, his eyes hopeful. “Don’t make me beg, kid.” He teases.

“I’d pay money to see that.” 

“You can just give me back the money I owed you for our last bet.” His eyes are mirthful, and you’re grateful you’re back to the familiar banter that you love.

“I’ve got a better idea.” You say, pulling him back down to kiss you again, humming as his arms encircle you and press you backwards towards the wall gently but firmly. 

“You’re right.” He mumbles against your mouth. “This is a much better idea.”

[bansheemilktales]

Proof You Are A Dummy If You Think Jack Nicholson Is Overrated

          People make too big of a deal about actors, don't they? They call some geniuses on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong, some are amazingly talented. But actors are told where to stand, what to say and what to do. They're people who are paid to pretend, okay? They're like hookers faking an orgasm. So maybe we could calm down on the genius talk. Some are good at it and some are not. It's that simple. And yet, as simple as this concept is, I have noticed most people don't understand it at all. 

      I've heard dumb people of my generation say that Jack Nicholson is overrated a million times. Here is why you are dumb if you say this: MATH exists.

     With MATH, one can use the ancient art of counting the skills a person has at acting to determine whether or not an actor is good without having to rely on feelings which are an invalid way to form an opinion. I know we have a right to feel what we want, guys, but be reasonable. Feelings are for feeling, not for thinking. If you dropped acid this morning you might feel you are an orange. But you are not an orange. If you say, "I think ___ is a bad actor" you must back it up with evidence.

     The reason I hear dummies of my generation (Generation X) give when they say Jack is overrated is that "All he does is use a nasal voice and twitch his eyebrows...he is always the same." And then they give nothing but examples from 1980 and on. Movies like Batman, Wolf, The Shining, As Good As It Gets.

     Listen here, dumb folks. His career begins in 1958. That's when Eisenhower was President. If you only watch movies made when you were alive you are a fucking idiot. QUESTION: Why would Hollywood have waited until you were born to start making movies good? Answer: They didn't. They haven't even heard of you.

     You see, even if you do not like a movie, that doesn't mean it is bad. It simply must succeed at the majority of it's goals to be good. Because you hated "that one part" does not mean the whole movie stinks. There have been good movies being made for over 100 years. Good meaning it succeeded at it's goal. Meaning a comedy that makes people laugh, a thriller that made people feel excited...etc. 

Here is a list of the 5 things a great actor should be able to do:

1) Can they emote well? Do they convince you that they are feeling what their character is supposed to be feeling in the scene? Do they seem angry, happy etc.? Most actors who have been successful for more than a decade can do this at least competently whether we like them or not. People get tired of watching someone who cannot simply pretend they are feeling something. It is a useful skill and perhaps the most common among decent actors.

2) Chameleon Powers: Can they do accents, can they change their body language and physical tics, are they willing to change appearance drastically due to make-up, dieting, etc? This skill is a bit more rare. Good examples of this style of acting are Marlon Brando, Robert De Niro, Daniel Day Lewis, Robert Downey Jr, Al Pacino and Gary Oldman. In fact, Day Lewis and Oldman are probably the best chameleons currently working. De Niro, Nicholson & Pacino in the 70s and Brando in the 50s and 60s. (Yes, Nicholson has done it many times whether you saw the films or not).

3) Do they pick challenging scripts that will force them out of their comfort zone and into new territory as an actor? It is a good thing to do but sadly, dramatic actors and action stars are the worst at this meaning, once they are successful at a genre they tend to stick with it. Jason Statham does not appear to be interested in picking something out of his comfort zone. In the 70s, Stallone showed great range and was compared to Brando, James Dean & De Niro but then he mostly played guys who blew stuff up ever since. So with few exceptions like Copland and Oscar, picking challenging parts is not one of his best attributes. While many enjoy his action films, he desperately needs to do something challenging or his memory will always be as the guy who had a good relationship with the pyrotechnic crew. That gets boring. 

4) Do they ever pick something that is a crowd pleaser? This one is tricky. We want them to pick challenging work, yes, but if they never pick a "fun" movie or a "popcorn" movie, actors come off as self important. For all the money actors make they owe their audience a good time now and then and, let's face it, a movie about babies dying in the congo doesn't cut it for most people. So I am referring to comedy, action, horror, sci fi...some kind of a tentpole picture. Do they ever even try at these things? Daniel Day Lewis for example, will not do a movie unless it has a disturbing death scene, and/or a scene where he yells needlessly. (We heard you say "Now" the first time, Lincoln) Is he good at these things? Hell yes. He is perhaps the best "intensity" actor working today. But since acting is not necessarily always about being intense, Day Lewis needs to lighten the fuck up sometimes. Makes sense, right? If you knew a great chef would you tell him to just make one type of meal all the time? Perhaps you criticize an action guy like Stallone for doing the same "type" of movie repeatedly. Day Lewis, like Stallone, is an great actor who needs a new trick. Look at Gary Oldman. Every bit the chameleon Day Lewis is but he will throw in a Batman or Harry Potter role to mix things up. Gary Oldman delivers to both his "artsy fartsy" fans and his "I wanna see something blow up" fans. Demand more from actors who have shown great skill. Don't let the Daniel Day Lewis types off the hook of responsibility to their audience if you are quick to ridicule the Stallones. Be consistent or you are one of the dummies I'm referring to in this article.

5) Comedy. Virtually every actor says it is the hardest genre to perform in and many people do not understand why. Allow me to show you why this is absolutely true. When watching a really good drama, one can have many reactions, right? You can cry, you can think, you can even become disturbed to a point you have to leave the room. For a comedy to be good, it is forced to try to get one reaction: Laughter. If it does not make you laugh, it has failed. Since the target they are aiming for is smaller, they are taking a more difficult shot. This is why so many comedies suck balls. Serious films are shooting at a bullseye the size of a battleship. Hence, whoever the greatest actor on Earth is, he or she MUST be able to handle comedy. Without some funny, you are at best, in the second tier of great actors.

     So, all one has to do to form an opinion that matters is see how much of this criteria an actor fits. I won't tell you who the greatest actor on Earth is, but clearly they excel at all 5 things on this list. If it is 4, they are damn good, too. Just not the best. 

     Let's look at Jack Nicholson and see how he holds up: #1 is chameleon abilities and yes, if you have looked at his pictures as much as I have you will notice accents and characteristics changing (lesser so in the last 35 years which is why my generation fails to see this talent in him as they tend to only watch movies made after Star Wars. Seriously guys, it is a fact. He changes. Read up on it. He just became so famous after 1980 or so that audiences wanted to see a certain persona from him and won't accept another kind.).  #2- He emotes well. Even his detractors agree about this. The man convinces you he feels what his character feels. #3- He has done every single genre. Seriously. So while I don't know what his comfort zone is, he definitely left it since he has done every type of movie under the sun. #4- Does he ever do one for the audience-a "crowd pleaser"? Yes, he has. Again, he has acted in every genre except perhaps silent. #5- Comedy? He has won Oscars for his performances in BOTH comedies and dramas. Think about that. Whoever you think is the best, did they win in different genres?

You don't have to like him if you don't want to. But he fits the bill. This is a great actor and you are just dumb to say otherwise.

     Again, keeping emotion out of this, let's look at Daniel Day Lewis, who clearly holds up numbers 1 (chameleon) and 2 (emoting) quite well, perhaps better than anyone else alive. But if we are honest, he suffers in the other 3. This is the guy who everybody says is the greatest actor of his generation. Yet, he won't do anything outside of drama and he stays in his comfort zone of playing super intense dudes who make everyone else in the scene nervous. What's that? I forgot about that hilarious comedy he made? No, I didn't. Cuz he didn't make it. 

     But don't worry, Day Lewis fans. I will now go after someone else you probably love to hate. Let's look at Stallone. Yeah, Stallone may have proven he emotes well in films like Rocky, and he may have proven he has the ability to change up his mannerisms and voice in movies like First Blood and Copland, but, let's face it, he fails pretty miserably at #3 by making way too many action movies and he hasn't strayed from his comfort zone since 1997's Copland. What's that? 1997 is a real life date that happened? Wow, you're right. So while it has been too long, he has, in fact, strayed from his comfort zone. Maybe not enough but he has done it. What's that? He just made a comedy with De Niro and was lauded by many as being very funny? And did you just say that half of his lip and jaw and tongue are paralyzed from an accident at birth and this gives him the "snarl-like" smile and slurred speech that you so readily make fun of? So he has given ALL of his performances disabled and he never uses that to sell himself or ask you, the asshole public, to stop mocking his disability? Holy shit. You're right. Stallone is one of the greatest actors on Earth. Writing is a talent, as is acting, bodybuilding, doing stunts, painting and overcoming immense physical obstacles.

     See what I mean? You thought Jack Nicholson sucked because you've seen 5 of his 100 movies and were disappointed. Now you know that he is awesome. You thought Stallone sucked and now, unless you are close-minded and screaming "No, No, No, No" you see that he is a disabled guy who manages to be way more talented than you, a person who judges actors by a "gut feeling". No? You disagree? You think feelings are more real than facts? So you really are an orange when you drop acid? Just a quick FYI: Another great thing about some actors is when they have other talents outside of acting that can inform their performances. Nicholson can write & direct. Stallone is a successful painter, directed 5 of his most successful films, a gifted writer (he wrote Rocky in 3 days and it won Best Picture), a talented body builder who was willing to throw that away and get fat for Copland, and you still are going to say DD Lewis is more talented than him? Is this because he is good at pretending? I agree. He is awesome at pretending. I also used the art of counting and it turns out pretending is only one talent. Sorry. MATH wins again.

Jack Nicholson: 5 out of 5 required skills in acting.

Stallone: 4.5 out of 5. I am taking half a point off because while he has gone out of his comfort zone it has been far too infrequent.

Daniel Day Lewis: 2 out of 5. 

        Dumb people of the world, stop saying people suck when you haven't given it much thought. You might be mocking someone with a disability you didn't even know about. Plus, it isn't your opinion that Day Lewis is the best since his skills end at pretending and being intense. It is your feeling that he is the best. And yeah, he feels like the best to me, too. We hear it being said so much on TV that we tend to believe it. Or some of you feel like agreeing with the masses so you won't get mocked. I have OCD. I obsess about my opinions and analyze them. Then I destroy people who say stupid shit. Seriously, every actor picks a stupid script sometimes. People used to say "Not Johnny Depp". You still saying that lately? It's been like 5 bad movies in a row. Day Lewis did a movie called "9". That movie is a fart of a movie. I am convinced the director was just a butt. Dustin Hoffman did Ishtar. De Niro made 3 movies about the "Fockers", each one more Focking stupid than the last. So, yes. Jack Nicholson and Stallone have made some stupid movies. But so did your favorite actor. And did your favorite actor WRITE his or her Best movie? No? Then shut the fuck up with your hand me down thoughts while the rest of us invent our own. 

written by Michael Anthony (Tony) Santiago, painting by Michael Anthony (Tony) Santiago @BansheeMilk  

[hotwinchester-blog]

Naughty man- Part Three

Summary: after meeting with Dean you two will finally go on a date, what will happen? Will things get steamy (I’m using this adjective way too damn much) or will the date go all wrong? Read to find out! 

Characters: Dean, Reader, Claire (OFC), Stephy (OFC), Gadreel.

Words count: 3605 sorry-not-sorry.

Warnings: none, just a little bit of sexual tension, not much though.

A/N: I’m so damn sorry it took me so much guys! School sucks really, and I had to study ‘cause this is an important semester, but anyway, I hope you enjoy the fanfiction! It got a little bit out of hand ‘cause I wrote a lot (more than usual) but here it is :)

Catch up: PART 1  &  PART 2

         If you wanna get tagged, just ask me HERE !

7:30 AM.

Damn it why am I up?

Actually, you did know why, you were going to have a date with Mr. Handsome that night, and you were nervous.

So fucking nervous.

You decided to sleep a little bit more, being too early, you pulled the covers up until they reached your chin and closed your eyes. Trying to think about everything but the date with Dean.

But nothing, all you could think was what you were going to do with Dean, how he was gonna dress, what place he would’ve taken you, everything related to this goddamn date.

You and Dean have been texting a lot in the past days; he would always text first, because as he said, he needed to “make it up to you” but also because you liked all the attention he was giving you… Maybe he could be the right person after your unforgettable relationships.

7:40 AM.

“Alright I can’t sleep, Imma have a cold shower and get ready for the day,” you mumbled to yourself.

While you were headed to the shower, your phone lit up.

It was Dean. Just by reading the name, you swore you felt your heart flutter

‘Morning sweetheart… couldn’t get any sleep, I’m sorry if I woke you up’

‘Hey Dean, actually I woke up earlier than usual today, no worries… How you doin’ ?’

‘I’m good thanks… ready for tonight?’

‘Sure I am… a lil’ bit anxious though, but we’ll talk later, I’m having a shower Dean-o’

‘Alright, make sure you pick the right dress, I want you to wear a sexy one ;)’

And with that, Dean left you chuckling and blushing… a lot.

Time skip…

A few hours later, you went out to have shopping meeting with your friend Stephy.

“Hey girl!” you heard someone shout behind your back.

“Stephy!” you hugged her, it’s been a while since the last time the two of you have seen each other, so you decided to bring your friend with you, also because you needed advice on the sexy dres you were supposed to wear to impress Dean.

“Ahw, I’ve been missing you, where have you been lately?” you asked Stephy.

“Well y’know, my new work is a pain in the ass, I’m there 24/7 so I’m always busy” she explained.

“Oh I see… so today’s finally your day off huh? Let’s have some fun!” you said excitedly.

“Hahaha alright kiddo… what’d ya need helo with?”

“Well uhm… I’m going on a date with Dean tonight so I was wondering if-“

“OH ARE YOU SERIOUS?! WE GOTTA BUY THE SEXIEST DRESS IN TOWN GIRL, C’MON!” she shouted clapping her hands for the excitement.

Stephy took you to an all too girly place, there were dresses everywhere, until your eyes landed on a long but elegant dress.

“S-Stephy, look at that one!” you exclaimed.

“What which- Oh that one!” she pointed to the dress you were talking about.

The dress was black, with an open back, floor length, and a v-neckline. It was beautiful, just as you liked, it was a little bit tight on the curves but you didn’t mind.

“Wow” you said, eyeing your dress because that sure as hell would be yours in not even a second “Shall I take it Steph? What do you think?”

“Well first of all chill, you gotta try it on first then we can talk about it” she chuckled softly.

“Yeah… I’ll be right back”

Heading to the changing rooms, you stripped fastl off your clothes, throwing them everywhere without caring on where they fell. Once you tried the dress, you heard Stephy calling you.

“Hey Y/N, you’re done there? I wanna see ya girl!”

“Yep, I’m coming!” you shouted.

You got out of the changing room barefoot, forgetting about your shoes and walked directly in front of your best friend.

“So? How do I look?” you asked impatiently.

“You look gorgeous hun! Turn your back towards the mirror and see it yourself! It suits you perfectly!” she winked.

You did as she asked, turning on your back and looking at yourself in the mirror, she wasn’t lying, the dress was awesome, it hugged your curves and it showed your cleavage a little bit, not too much. However, your favorite part of it was the back. As you were looking at yourself, you realized something that completely changed your mind.

“Stephy, I can’t buy this dress…” you said sadly, eyes on the ground.

“What? Why not?! Are you nuts? You look great honey, trust me!” she tried to convince you. “What’s wrong Y/N?” she furrowed her eyebrows looking at you.

“Well… the dress it too long and I’m fucking short, I look so bad in it” you replied with an angry voice.

Stephy started to laugh aloud, you didn’t get why she was laughing like an idiot, but it made you furious.

“What’s so funny now?” you asked, annoyance in your voice this time.

“Oh God I can’t help it!” she laughed even more “Y/N, ever heard of heels?”

“Yeah sure, but they won’t work on me, I’d look still short” you sighed.

“Okay first of all you’re not that short, I’ve seen thousands of girls that didn’t even reach 4 ft and you’re way taller than that, second of all we’ll buy higher heels if you think you still look short… You don’t need to worry honey,” she said smiling and hugging you.

“Sorry for yelling at you Steph, it’s just that this date is making me nervous and I wanna look beautiful for Dean… That’s it” you apologized.

“No worries, that means that you care about him huh?” she said elbowing you.

“Oh shut up!” you slapped her arm lightly ì, chuckling.

After you bought the dress and the heels, you all went to Claire’s, deciding she was gonna doll you up with make-up.

“HEY GIRLS! COME IN AND Y/N WE GOTTA HURRY!” Claire screamed as she dragged you in her room, along with Steph.

Claire made you sit in a chair, in front of what looked like a make-up station, and started to “make you beautiful” with her magical hands.

“So tell me Y/N” Claire started “Where are you and Dean going to eat?” she asked with curiosity.

“Uh actually I don’t know… we haven’t planned on that yet” you admitted.

“Maybe he knows where to bring ya but it’s a surprise so he’s not telling you” Steph stated shrugging.

“How romantic!!!” Claire shouted. “He’s so cute… I’ve known him since a while and I’ve never thought he was a romantic type of guy”

“He’s not” you stated. “He’s all flirty, kind, funny, handsome… those green eyes, I could stare at them all day long, his freckled  and-“

“Y/N, we get it you like him, a lot” Steph said laughing and winking at you.

“You got it bad for him huh?” Claire added.

You looked at your best friends, blushing. They were right, you really liked Dean, like, really really like him.

“Girls” you cleared your throat “Can we please focus on my make-up and hairstyle?” you tried to change topic.

“’Aight, Ma’am” they both said in unison.

They quickly got to work, you missed staying with the girls, you used to have a sleepover every once or even twice a week if you were lucky. Y’all talked about boys, painted your nails (actually, they forced you to) and eventually watched a movie until late night, when you all would be fallen asleep.

After one long ass hour, your make-up and hairstyle were done.

“Okay, you can go wear your dress” Claire stated.

You nodded and took your dress to change, not wanting to be seen by your besties, you hid in the bathroom.

Once you were ready, you opened the bathroom door and looked at the girls.

“What do you think?” you asked, adjusting your dress.

“Oh Gosh Y/N” Claire tried to speak, when you noticed that she had tears in her eyes.

“Claire?” you tried to get your friend’s attention “Wait, are you… Are you crying or something?”

“Yeah I’m sorry… it’s just that you- I can’t remember seeing you like this, happy and stuff” she sniffed.

You quickly got what she meant, she was referring to your last relationship with Steven, one of the worst you ever had. You did not want to remember him but now that Claire was crying, you blacked out for a few seconds before you felt someone shaking you.

“Y/N” it was Steph “Y/N please focus darling, don’t think about it okay? Forget that asshole”

“I-I’m so sorry honey, I didn’t mean to bring that topic up” Claire apologized, but you shook your head squeezing her hand to reassure her everything was okay.

“No worries, you’re just happy for me…both of you are and I appreciate that, seriously. I love you girls,” you told them, opening your arms for a “group hug”.

Suddenly, Steph released both of you from your embrace and looked at the time.

“Uh Hun, at what time should you be home for Dean to come and get you?”

“Oh we still have time I have to be there in-“ you looked at your phone.

9:45 PM.

“HOLY SHIT I’M LATE!” you shouted, starting to panic.

“Hey, hey, hey! Chill” Claire tried to calm you down. “Stephy is gonna drive you there, you know that she drives fast so you’ll be there in a blink of an eye”

“Okay” you sighed, wiping a few droplets of sweat that formed on your forehead.

Not even five minutes later and you were home.

For once, lucky was on your side. Dean wasn’t there yet.

“Alright Y/N” Stephy started “Y’know I ain’t good at this, but I hope you’ll have a great night, Dean honestly looks like a good guy, he won’t disappoint you”

“I bet Sam told you to tell me this huh?” you smirked, knowing too well the two of them wanted you and Dean to get together.

“Guilty.” She said laughing. “We just hope you two’ll get along… and bang” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Steph!” You scolded her, punching her on the shoulder sarcastically.

“What? You will have to someday, besides, if Sam is good at that, I can’t imagine how Dean is” she smirked.

“Really Stephy?” you rolled your eyes. “You got Sam in your pants already?”

“Yes” she said proudly. “We were a little drunk, but I do remember his big, thick-“

“ENOUGH!” you shouted, a look of disgust on your face. “You’ll tell me what exactly happen later… not really the details of the sex part though”.

“I should get going,” she stated out of nowhere “Sam just texted me saying that Dean’s arriving here so… Have fun” Steph hugged you tightly and then climbed in her car.

A few minutes later, you heard the engine of the Impala outside. You were so nervous.

Okay Y/N, you can do this and everything is gonna be fine, it’s just a date after all. You thought.

You heard Dean knocking on the door, opening it your jaw dropped.

“Hi Sweetheart” he greeted you, and then eyed you up and down.

What you did not notice is that your beauty stunned Dean.

“Uhm- hey… r-ready to go?” you stuttered, the first time a man made you feel like that.

Dean moved his eyes from your body to look in your eyes.

“Uh… yeah” he was at a loss for words, he couldn’t get his eyes off you, nor could you off him.

After climbing in the Impala, Dean decided to break the silence between the both of you.

“You look very beautiful tonight” he complimented you.

You felt yourself blush at the comment “You don’t look bad yourself” you winked. The tension between the both of you longer gone.

“So, where are we eating?” you asked, having no clue.

“I wanted to ask you first, ‘cause I don’t know your likes so… I have a few options”

“Shoot” you smiled.

“Alright so, we could go to an Italian restaurant or…”

“Or?”

“Well, looks like there wasn’t another one” he chuckled looking at you for a split moment.

“That’s fine to me,” you laughed.

Once you arrived at the restaurant, Dean asked you to hold your hand and you gladly accepted, loving the simple gesture.

“Can I help you?” the waitress asked you two smiling.

“Yep, I booked a table for two,” he said. “Winchester”

“Alright I’ll bring you to your table,” she said, gesturing to follow her.

“There you go, here are the menus, when you’re ready, just call me,” she announced.

“Will do, thanks in advance,” you told her smiling.

“Mmmh, there are a lot of yummy things to eat” Dean mumbled to himself, but you heard him clearly.

“Yup, I agree” you told him giggling.

“Alright, so how about we get a plate of spaghetti for two and eat it together as a lovely and super romantic couple?” he suggested.

You thought he was being serious, but when he saw the panicked look on your face, he laughed.

“Y/N I’m kidding,” he said, “Besides, it’ll get messy”

“Thanks God, I’m sorry I panicked for a few seconds… I guess I’m being too exaggerated about this date thing” you explained him.

“Don’t need to worry, I don’t bite” he chuckled.

The waitress came and scribbled down your orders.

Once everything was set she told the two of you ‘enjoy your meal’, you muttered a silent “thanks” before getting to eat.

You and Dean finished quickly, probably you both were hungry, and began to talk.

“So Y/N… You promised me you were gonna talk about yourself tonight, shoot” he winked.

“What do you wanna know specifically?” you asked smiling.

“I dunno… for starters, what do you do?”

“I work in a bar at the moment, until I find something better than that, I’m stuck here,” you told him. “What about you, Dean?”

“I uh-…” he started to think, as he didn’t want to tell you what his real work was, you could sense that, but you didn’t say anything, maybe he was uncomfortable with that.

“I work as a mechanic” he started “I also uh-… hunt sometimes when I can”

“My dad use to hunt too… but he didn’t really want to talk about it, saying it was too dangerous for me and my family,” you remembered those times your dad wouldn’t get home for a week, or even more. “He was usually out for a lot of time… until one day, he was gone,” you whispered the last part, your eyes starting to well up with tears.

You felt a thumb stroking your cheek to wipe the few tears that dared to fall, you looked up and saw Dean a few inches from you, smiling at you.

“Hey,” he said, his forefinger lifting up your chin to look at him “You do not need to talk about it anymore okay?”

“No it’s okay Dean, I needed to open up anyway...” you told him, grabbing a napkin to dry your tears and trying not to ruin your make-up.

“My dad taught me how to hunt… he died a lot of years ago, so Sammy and I decided to uh-kind of replace his job and hunt as the old times” he told you, eyes locked on the ground.

“What was your father’s name?” you asked suddenly, maybe your dad and his knew each other.

“John” he stated. “What was yours?”

“Christian… Christian Y/L/N”

Realization hit Dean, he heard that name, maybe Bobby knew that man but if he remembered this, it meant that your father was involved in the same shit as he was.

“I-I think our dads knew each other” he stuttered, not believing that could be possible.

“Yeah? I don’t know… I barely spoke to my dad, he was a man of few words,” you said. “Anyway let’s change topic, shall we?” you asked, squeezing his hand.

“Sure” he smiled. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked jokingly.

“Of course I have” you affirmed seriously, wanting to scare Dean.

“W-what? Really?” he had a sad face and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Of course not, dumbass” you laughed, throwing your head back.

“You scared the hell out of me, y’know?” he asked you, laughing.

“Sorry not sorry” you shrugged.

“But seriously though, do you?”

“I wouldn’t have accepted this date if I did…I had a boyfriend but that’s an old story I don’t wanna talk about… we had too much drama going on” you joked, trying to enlighten the mood.

“Alright, you tell me when you’re ready” he winked.

“Next question?” you asked, changing the topic.

“That’s your turn,” he stated.

“Wasn’t I supposed to be the one answering tonight?” you crossed your arms on your chest.

“Well… guess I changed my mind,” he said shrugging.

“Okay then… tell me, what a Winchester does to make a woman fall for him?” you smirked, crossing your legs and closing the distance between the both of you.

“Mmmh we’re getting dirty here” he smirked too.

“You said so,” you looked at him from the corner of your eye, sipping from your glass of wine.

“First of all, I make sure she’s interested” he started to explain “Eye contact is fundamental”

“Yeah? Then what happens?” you asked, still in the same position, showing your cleavage a little bit more this time, the alcohol was starting to have a great effect on you.

“Then I buy hear a drink, see what happens, and if she turns to me and smile, she’s mine and nobody’ll have a chance on her” he licked his lips.

“Possessive” you looked at his lips, taking your glass again.

“You bet I am” he took the glass from your hand, filled it with other wine and then filled his, gulping down the alcohol. “After that, I approach her, and start to have some physical contact with her”

“Give me an example of that,” you whispered, rubbing your legs together.

He moved to sit with his chair beside yours, his eyes locked with yours, his hand making his way up your thigh, caressing it gently and then squeezing it.

“This is what I do, for starters,” he explained, his hand now moving in the inside of your thigh, his touch making you shiver. “After that, I watch her reaction, if she likes it, I keep going. But if she doesn’t, I stop right there”.

“Such a gentleman, huh?” you replied, looking at his hand.

“Yeah, well… I wouldn’t call that gentleness, I just respect the girl I am with. Don’t wanna force her into something she’s not comfortable with, y’know?”

“Y-yeah I uh, get it” you stuttered when his hand was close to your core, you could swear you felt yourself blushing, and that’s what made Dean think he was moving too fast.

Dean gently removed his hand from your thigh, you felt coldness on that spot, it’s like you missed the feeling of his hand on your thigh, but you didn’t complain.

You both didn’t speak for a while, the awkwardness from the “hot moment” now embarrassing you.

It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, it’s just that, it felt weird… not really weird but it’s because you haven’t had any kind of physical contact since your ex- douchebag- boyfriend, the only thought making you flinch.

Damn it, stupid guy, he even ruined your date and got you look weak in front of Dean.

Dean noticed the way you were staring a spot, for a long time, for the second time that night, you were gonna cry, so he decided to speak and break the tension.

“Y/N? Hey, look at me, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, worried, he was starting to think it was his fault, maybe he shouldn’t have touched your thigh that way, maybe it was too early.

Maybe.

“It’s-it’s nothing, really…,” you answered, a tear scrolling down your face.

“If it was nothing, than why are you crying?” he questioned again, wiping a tear with his thumb.

“I-… it’s about my ex-boyfriend… I cannot erase the bad memories and years I shared with him, it was like hell, and… It was like I couldn’t get “rid” of him and just thinking about hanging out with you, or guys in general, reminds me of the past… I’m so sorry Dean,”

He shook his head, a sympathetic smile on his face; he took your hand, both of them, and squeezed them, trying to reassure you that it was fine.

“It’s okay, I just thought it was my fault, that’s it…,” he said, “I think I should take you home now, you might need some time alone”

“Thanks Dean, I appreciate it, really” you smiled.

Dean paid the bill and then drove you home.

Arriving home, Dean walked you to the front door of your house, making sure everything was okay.

“Sweetheart, you feelin’ better?”

“Kind of” you answered sincerely “but it’ll pass, it always happens” you replied shrugging. “I’m sorry if I fucked this up”

“No need to apologize, I’m not angry, besides… we have another date” he winked.

“You’re right,” you said chuckling.

“So… goodnight Y/N”

Dean was almost going away, but you took his wrist, approached him slowly, tiptoed and kissed him.

Your hands on his chest, his on your waist, caressing your back.

After a few minutes, he gave you a last peck on the lips and then smiled at you.

“G’night… awesome kisser by the way” he mumbled the last part.

“Good night, handsome.” You giggled, and winked.

Despite the awful memories, you enjoyed your date with Dean… maybe next time, things will get steamier, who knows.

Tagging: @dreamingintheimpalawithdean, @extreme-damaged-girl and @fairytailrocker ‘cause I like your blog hahaha

[gamelyplanet-blog]

Cuphead, “casual” modes and hypocrites

I don’t want to spend too much time on this, so I’ll just rant a bit about the recent nontroversy around the indie title “Cuphead”. This is off-the-cuff, blog post stuff, with minimal editing. You’ve been warned.

So, Cuphead, the charming 2D shooter that impressed everyone with its retro-cartoon presentation during E3 2017, has somehow become the center of discussion regarding difficulty in games and the value of design vs accessibility.

Or so games media claim, because make no mistake, before I write down anything else; the only reason the usual suspects opened their mouths to shit out the usual pseudo-intellectual, arrogant drivel is because this entire thing started when the Internet got wind of one journalist, Dean Takahashi of GamesBeat, having trouble with the tutorial of Cuphead during the last Tokyo Game Show.

Let’s also get this out of the way: Dean, dude, I don’t know you. I dislike what passes for games journalism these days, but I’ve never read your stuff or heard of you before. The mockery towards you for that Cuphead footage was, as far as I’m concerned, unwarranted. I don’t have the context to support or condemn you for it; it was during a con, it was an earlier build of the game, the footage looked a little pathetic, but I really don’t know. So, I didn’t say anything against you, but I’m sorry for the shit flung at you.

The problem is that the primary reason this shit even became an issue is that the representatives of games media and their indie hipster buddies started this years ago; and in the last few days, they seem hell-bent on widening the gap between media and gamers in the worst way possible. Blame GamerGate or whatever, but we all know the mocking of journalists’ gaming skills became popular when Polygon posted that pathetic footage of their playing 2016′s DOOM and failing spectacularly at what’s a very basic shooter.

It wasn’t on a whim, either; we’re talking about an entire part of the industry that for years pretended to be an authority on video games; they talked *over* their audience, they talked *down* to their audience, they mocked, they demeaned, they insulted their audience; because they thought they “knew better”. Nobody would’ve really paid any attention to Polygon’s DOOM footage and all that it represented, if Polygon wasn’t a publication that gave “Tropico 5″ a 6.5 by first prefacing the score with the claim a city-builder game should’ve included commentary on dictators and banana republics and authoritative regimes. Nobody would’ve care about Polygon’s DOOM footage (nobody would’ve even seen it, really), if a few years back Arthur Gies hadn’t literally body-shamed 2.5 points off of “Bayonetta 2″, fucking Platinum Games out of their bonus. Polygon are representative of the state of games media right now and they’re not the only ones.

No better proof of all this than how suddenly there are “editorials” on Rock Paper Shotgun and Polygon and Twitter threads by indie game devs that spend most of their time pretending they’re the bastions of intellectuality in game design, whenever they don’t spew shit at their annual circle-jerk that we refer to as the “Game Developers Conference”. John Walker of RPS, when commenting on “Assassins Creed: Origins” new “no-combat” mode, was quick to point out that gamers are hell-bent on maintaining the challenge of harder games, because they are exclusionary. Then, RPS published another article about Cuphead’s “Simple” mode (which prohibits the player from getting the true ending); oh, they were quick to note that it was “satire” toward sites like Kotaku, but any knowledge of RPS or Walker, a senior editor, raises questions to the validity of that claim. Then, Walker himself decided to challenge the term “gameplay” on Twitter because it’s a vague term, apparently never occurring to him that his criticism is pretty fucking vague in itself. Typical overcompensating with which games journalism is rife at the moment.

Rami Ismail, an indie developer who has yet to say a single thing that could be deemed correct or valuable to anyone outside his industry bubble, was quick to link that piece of shit editorial and argue for providing players with the freedom to play a game how they want. I must’ve missed that memo when the market was being flooded with third-rate crappy-looking pixel-art platformers and walking simulators. Suddenly “freedom” and “choice” matter.

Unless it’s the “Mass Effect 3″ ending; if you want choice to matter then, you’re just “entitled”.

Here’s the rub; there’s no discussion to be had. This isn’t an interesting topic or a new discovery for games development. This is as old as gaming itself. Player freedom exists within the developer’s freedom. Player agency is a component of game design, not a handicap. When someone makes a game, they don’t feed data into a generator and then the machine farts out a complete project. Every weapon, tool, and slope or bottomless pit in a level have been designed to complement each other. Difficulty options aren’t bad; quite the contrary. But they’re limited and they can harm the game’s artistic vision irreparably. Do you have any idea how many games I played and found boring on easy mode years ago, only to return and really appreciate them now that I’ve improved? That’s why Walker got shat on for his challenging the term gameplay; his criticism was off-base. The art in games is in the mechanics. Gut the mechanics and the art is degraded to popcorn shit.

Difficulty isn’t just challenge and it’s not just a means to frustrate the player; it’s a tool and it’s a component a lot of the time. The better developers know how to use it to the game’s benefit. It’s also something that’s an umbrella term; what’s difficult for one person and what’s acceptable in terms of challenge differs for someone else. Yes, I’m kind of bumped out I cannot play the Souls series; it seems like it has very interesting combat mechanics, but sparse checkpoints are a no-no for me. I’ll take any challenge you throw at me, but don’t make me retry the same thirty minutes of game all the time. Should I send an angry letter at FromSoftware for not neutering their game for my benefit? I wager those checkpoints are integral to the Souls experience; so, they can stay and I can fuck off to Twitch to watch a stream about it.

Accessibility, for that is the right word and not “inclusion”, is a moot point in this day and age. There are many games to choose from, in different genres, from different developers. There are countless people talking about them and about as many streaming them. The consumer is instantly and easily informed about the specifics and they can make an informed purchase. The notion of being “owed” game progression because you bought the game is ridiculous. Am I owed my money back for not liking that new cocktail I decided to order? Am I owed to see my team win the Champions League (google it Yanks), because I paid for a season pass?

Going back to Walker, after the butthurt for being challenged on his idiotic remarks regarding gameplay, he tweeted that he’s only trying to make gaming accessible. The problem is that gaming, as a whole, is extremely accessible; more now than ever before. All you need to do is download a free game on your phone and lo and behold; access. If you want something more serious, have a look at the simplified, free-to-play MMOs, some even published by AAA companies. The point is, there is not even an admission price to gaming anymore. One niche game for one niche audience isn’t going to turn people away from gaming. What the fuck are you even talking about, John? Nobody in the history of gaming has suggested all games should be Cuphead or Dark Souls. All they suggest is that we make whatever we want and choose what suits us best. You keep raving like a lunatic about “gaming culture” and “toxicity” and “gate keeping” and you’re the only assholes out there to consistently shout, pull rank and cause problems. You are professional trouble-makers, John!

What is fitting is that Ubisoft did indeed announce they intend to add a “skip combat” option in the upcoming “Assassins Creed: Origins”. Is that a good option? I honestly can’t tell, because I’m not familiar with the AC games. I’ve never played one, so I lack the context. If the Assassins Creed games provide a semblance of engaging gameplay by skipping combat, i.e. if exploration is as integral to the AssCreed experience as combat is, then it’s an acceptable compromise. After all, even Minecraft has a casual mode, because hiding from Creepers isn’t the point of that game; mining resources and building shit is.

When the indie portion of the industry started making its mark, we were all delighted; more choice, more games, more space for original ideas and variety, away from the boundaries of AAA publishers. But now, no; now we have a social issue in our hands, now we’re talking about how making the game you want is a matter of “culture” and it’s a discussion that we surprisingly never had before, not even when shitty Twine text apps somehow made it to Steam. Curious that.

“Inclusion” has been the industry standard since at least the days of the original Playstation, when gaming went truly mainstream and turned into a ridiculously profitable industry. The alternative is bad business. There is a reason we now have context-sensitive UIs for everything and why there are more tutorial messages than there are lines of dialogue in so many AAA titles; they want their games sold to and played by as wide an audience as possible. The indies can do something different.

What’s really getting on my nerves in all of this is the hypocrisy; Souls? Fine. Super Meatboy? Fine. Megaman 9? Fine. Bloodborne? Fine. So many hard games, but no, now it’s a “discussion” because a bunch of self-involved writers decided to shit-talk gamers and developers alike for clicks. Again. Fuck, even these very outlets reviewed Cuphead well; but then they found the chance to latch on to a bunch of innocuous tweet and demean their audience again, because presumably their traffic went down. Again. Alas, playing video games isn’t a social issue. The bullshit presentations at GDC that tell you you have a social responsibility when designing video games are lying to you. If you’re a journalist, nobody owes you shit. Do your market research before you buy and let people create and enjoy whatever the hell they want.

Walker’s “Skip Button” word vomit on AssCreed

RPS’ “satire” article on Cuphead

Ben Kuchera’s desperate effort to publish something without saying anything, but only citing what others said, on Polygon

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 5x18: “Point of No Return”

Quite the interesting song choice. “The Man Upstairs” by Kay Starr.

Bummed out Zachariah at a bar.

“That’s all they care about upstairs, ain’t it? Results, results, results. They don’t know. They’re not down on the ground, in the mud, nose to nose with all you pig-filthy humans, am I right?”

“Absolute—filthy what?”

lmao, poor guy catching what Zachariah said.

Another gif I’d seen often without knowing what the context was.

RIP Stuart and the bartender. Killed by Zachariah’s “boss”...whoever that is.

Dean-o.

Preparing to leave.

I”m trying to pause the screen to read this letter Dean is writing. I can make out the words “you’ll look after her” which is probably referring to Baby (tho I did initially think it was about Lisa, as he had told her last episode that “they” won’t get what they want from him without agreeing to something first...aka protection for her and Ben.) Also before that statement, it looks like Dean made a Back to the Future reference (which, of course he would) “Where we’re going, we don’t need  no roads”

He also mentions someone (or something?) being an “honorary Winchester in my book” and I hope he means Cas.

[After episode edit: Supernatural Wiki is awesome and provides a transcript to a good chunk of the letter. It confirms most of my guesses except the “honorary Winchester” is Bobby; I ain’t even mad about that.]

It was about to be sent to Bobby.

“It’s not too hard to figure out the stops on the Farewell Tour.” Well thank god Sam knows Dean so well.

“How could you do that?”

“How could I? All you’ve ever done is walk away.”

“And I was wrong. Every single time I did.” 

“You know I have to stop you.”

“Yeah, well, you can try. Just remember: You’re not all hopped up on demon blood this time.”

Dean delivering some low blows here...and he’s just getting started.

Cas! 

Who is phenomenally pissed and staring daggers at Dean.

“But if Lucifer burns this mother down, and I coulda done something about it, guess what? That’s on me.” Huh, that’s still part of the reason Dean says yes to Michael in S13.

“You’re not my father. And you ain’t in my shoes.”

DEAN WINCHESTER, YOU TAKE THAT BACK IMMEDIATELY.

It would’ve been kinda hilarious if Bobby had shot Dean for that alone.

“That’s the round I mean to put through my skull. Every morning, I look at it. I think, ‘Maybe today’s the day I flip the lights out.’ But I don’t do it. I never do it. You know why? Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!”

:(

RIP 2 angels. Killed by Cas.

Will the real Adam Milligan please rise?

Cas wards Adam.

My god, Adam sounds so much like Dean.

Whoomp, there it is. Adm was brought back to replace Dean as Michael's vessel.

Cas shading Dean, lol.

“Why would they do this?”

“Maybe they’re desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them.”

“Alright, you know what? Blow me, Cas.”   

Adam even acts like Dean, whereas Ghoul!Adam was more like Sam...

“Please, just trust me. Give me some time.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because we’re blood.”

Yeah, that ain’t gonna cut it.

“No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I don't have a dad. So we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family. And if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she's the one I give a rat's ass about, not you.”

Dude, it’s not their fault they never found out about you.

Jeez, what a dick.

Not that easy to escape, pal.

“The one thing worse than seeing dad once a year was seeing him all year.”

“Do you know how full of crap you are?”

“What?”

“Really. You see, it was me and it was my mom. That's it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed. So you can say whatever you want about our dad, but the truth is, I would have taken anything.”

SERIOUSLY WHAT A MEDIUM BAG OF DICKS

 Does Adam ever stop with the smartass remarks?

DEAN WHAT THE FUCK.

“I mean, think about how many people we've gotten killed, Sam. Mom, Dad, Jess, Jo, Ellen. Should I keep going?” None of those deaths were your own fault, you’re reaching for straws here pal.

“I just…I—I don’t believe.” 

“In what?”

“In you.”

I hate Dean’s campaign of driving people away so they’ll let him go, I h a t e t h i s.

“You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer's gonna wear you to the prom, man. It's just a matter of time.” 

“Don’t say that to me. Not you...of all people.”

Omg, an almost direct parallel from “When the Levee Breaks”.

You made Sam cry, you asshole.

I love Bobby checking in on his sons :’)

How did Dean know Cas was gonna come down to check in on him? That crash was well timed.

And Cas actually showed concern for him!!

Dean, you fucking asshole.

“Cuff him to your chair.” lmao

Adam, meet Zachariah.

The other time where I can’t even argue against Zachariah...except for the “erotically” bit.

“Trust me, kid, when the heat gets hot, they're not gonna give a flying crap about you. Hell, they'd rather save each other's sweet bacon than save the planet.” Oh wait, there’s another time he’s just...kinda right. Tho I’d kinda argue that they’ve come a long way from that.

OOOHHH HERE IT COMES. ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES IN THE SERIES...and the reason I started shipping Destiel full time.

El Sol!

OOOOHHH IT’S DEAN BEATDOWN TIME!!!

It is so satisfying to see Cas beat the shit out of Dean after everything he’s said and done in this episode.

Also, how are NONE of the passing civilians noticing this fight???

I just...get a huge kick out of that scene. 

And now, I attempt to explain why this scene (of all scenes) was the reason I started shipping Destiel:

To me, there were two stages of Destiel; 1. Dean’s in love with Cas and 2. Cas is in love with Dean. For whatever reason, this was the moment I realized Cas had very deep feelings for Dean. 

The level of betrayal he was feeling from Dean seemed much more personal than just ‘I went to bat for the guy and he struck out, wah wah”. 

Also, the fact that he emphasized that he did/gave EVERYTHING for solely Dean definitely came off more than platonic to me. 

(Not to mention how close their faces were to each other; almost every time I watch this scene, I half expect them to start making out with each other.)

All I know is that from there on out, I looked forward to their interactions--well, even more than I already did-- and that I was looking at them in a different light.

“Bobby, what do you mean ‘Adam is gone’?”

“Should I say it in Spanish?”

lmaoo. Knowing Bobby, he probably could.

“What the hell happened to him?”

“Me.”

ayyyy

Unceremoniously dumped on the couch, lmao.

And I also kinda love that they asked about what happened to Dean only once, then proceeded to talk more about Adam. It may be because he’s the bigger fish to fry, but it kinda reads to me that Bobby and Sam are in silent agreement that Dean had that beating coming, so they won’t even ask more about it.

The Green Room.

Oh, Persephone move there bro.

“So you lied...about everything.”

“We didn’t lie. We just avoided certain truths to manipulate you.”

Adam, you poor fool.

i wonder who carried Dean down to the panic room.

“Word to the wise: don’t piss off the nerd angels.”

“Either it’s a trap to get me there to make me say yes, or it’s not a trap and I’m gonna say yes anyway. And I will. I’ll do it. Fair warning.” No, you won’t.

“When push shoves, you’ll make the right call.” Sam’s right.

“I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?“

“Because… you’re still my big brother.”

I am like, Sam’s #1 fan when it comes to this episode. I am rooting like hell for him.

Van Nuys, California.

I love Dean’s reaction as Cas takes off his tie; he even looks over to Sam like “you seeing this?”

“Whoa, wait. You’re gonna take on five angels?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that suicide?”

“Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail.”

RIP Dean, torn a new one by Cas.

Dean looked at Cas like he thought the box-cutter was for him.

RIP angel. Killed by Cas.

One down, four to go.

What a badass move.

“You came for me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re family.”

Awww.

Crap.

Zachariah’s just twisting the knife.

“Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please. I’ll do it.”

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Okay, yes. The answer is yes.”

:(

You can literally pinpoint the moment Dean changes his mind.

“I said…before Michael gets one piece of this sweet ass…he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal.” There’s the Dean I love.

“Michael’s not gonna kill me.” Zachariah’s last words.

RIP Zachariah. Killed by Dean. Still such a satisfying death!

Whoa, just realized Dean watched Zachariah die...and he still has eyeballs.

Dean lets go of Adam to help Sam. That one little decision with such huge consequences...

“Dean! Help! Deean!” 

Poor Adam. I really do feel sorry that he got caught up in all this. I’m kinda hoping they’ll address him a bit in S14.

“You think Adam’s okay?”

“Doubt it. Cas either. But we’ll get ‘em.” aww.

“So, what changed your mind?”

“Honestly? The damnedest thing. I mean, the world’s ending. The walls are coming down on us, and I look over to you and all I can think about is, ‘This stupid son of a bitch brought me here.’ I just didn’t want to let you down.” 

ACCEPT THE APOLOGY SAM.

“Just...let me say this. I don't know if it's being a big brother or what, but to me, you've always been this snot-nosed kid that I've had to keep on the straight and narrow. I think we both know that that's not you anymore. I mean, hell, if you're grown-up enough to find faith in me…the least I can do is return the favor. So screw destiny, right in the face. I say we take the fight to them, and do it our way.”

That meant the universe to Sam.

HELL FUCKING YES DEAN. You are forgiven for the bull you pulled this episode.