Here’s a fireball induced drabble before I fall asleep. I’ll make edits in the morning as needed.
535 words
Not sure where this was/is going. I wrote it on the car ride home
“Hang on,” came Price’s voice from the side of the room he was on as the lights cut. “Probably blew a fuse,” he muttered as he shifted to stand.
“I think the whole street is out,” you reply as you gaze out your window. He had been logging information on his computer while you kept watch. It was a simple enough stakeout and the group you had been tailing had been inside all evening. The cold weather usually kept everyone inside, including criminals.
You hear him walk up behind you and his hand gently rests between your shoulder blades as he bends down to look. It’s a good thing it’s dark because the smell of his cologne, however faint after being applied days ago, makes your heart kick up a beat to flush your cheeks. Did he have to wear cologne on a mission? Mixed with his expensive cigars that left musky scent hours later, it sent your hormones in overdrive. It should be illegal to smell that good.
“Must be a brownout,” Price muses as he places his other hand on the windowsill to lean forward even more to look further down the street. His one hand doesn’t leave your back and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting any more.
“Yeah, must be that,” you answer looking up at him. His face is impossibly close and when he twists to look down at you, you know he knows what he’s doing. Your poker face is a disaster. There’s a reason the guys always fleece you when you play.
“You alright, dove?” Price asks, grinning because he knows the nickname flusters you. It had been a dance you two had been doing for weeks, months, now. “No need to be nervous, I’ll save you from the dark.”
“Not afraid of the dark, Sir,” you answer. You see his eyes flare a bit at the formality and his fingers clench on your back a bit. Two can play at this game
“Then why are you so tense?” He asks, lifting his hand from the windowsill to cup your chin. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip out from where you have been worrying it with your teeth. “Something is clearly bothering you,” he says, his eyes flicking down to your lip that he gently pushes to the side to smear the faint pink lipstick you had put on.
“Not bothered,” you state and dare to nip at the pad of his thumb with your teeth. If the cover of darkness made him bold, then you could match him. Based on the hiss he emits at that action you know you’re both willing to push the envelope. “Now who’s tense?” You ask with a smirk before he pushes his thumb into your mouth, prompting you to suck lightly.
Price doesn’t miss a beat as he hits the mic on his comms to tell Soap to take over the watch. His eyes never leave yours as he presses his thumb down on your tongue causing you to salivate a bit while waiting for the Sergeant to answer.
Soap responds with a ten-four, sounding slightly confused, before Price drags you into the dark of the room.
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Blue Eye Samurai (A Woman's Review)
I wasn't too sure about it at first, but the story caught my interest in spite of not being one of my usual picks for stories. I was even looking at reviews about this show today to see what other people thought of it. For some reason there were only men.
I watched the first season over the course of a week. It's gory. There's nudity and sex. It's not for children and not even remotely cute...well except for one of the characters...Rory if I remember correctly. He was cute. I tried to tell my mother about it and she said, I'm sure it's very cute. I said, no, not a bit.
I'm not usually into gore or explicit sex...I'm fine with it if it's part of the story and has a point. I don't go seeking it out though. I will never go out and see a slasher movie for example, I find them deeply unappealing.
As a whole, the visuals were fantastic. The story balanced and the characters had depth. This is the kind of story that never gets boring and even the larger than life characters in this story are shown to have human vulnerabilities.
The characters themselves are understandable and relatable. The main character, Mizu, is someone you both want to root for and question her motives. She is a grey character...or what people call an antihero. She's both a badass and spiritually broken.
The main plot is that Mizu is hell bent on revenge for her birth. In a certain time Japan...the Eddo period (I'm aware I likely misspelled that) they closed their borders to everyone, especially people from Europe and the U.K. Being a foreigner in Japan at that time was illegal and children of mixed race were considered worse than trash.
Mizu was of a mixed race, bullied a lot and orphaned at a young age. That prejudice against her and the loss of her mother, caused her to go on a path of revenge that she cannot be swayed from. She was almost turned away from it, but because of a betrayal of both her husband and her mother, she went back on the warpath.
The first episode of the series is long and Mizu disguises herself to look like a man for a couple of reasons. One of the main ones is because there are people hunting her and they are looking for a girl/woman so her mother made her dress like a boy. The other reason I think, is because women in that period of time were property and had no freedoms. Bartering chips, breeding stock or prostitutes, nothing more. In fact her true gender isn't revealed until the end of the first episode and it was an accident. Fortunately, it was Rory who found out about her, and he admired her and wanted to learn how to be a Samurai himself. A difficult thing for him, because he was born with no hands. He manages very well for himself in spite of his disability and goes on a quest to become great at something, anything and thinks Mizu can help him do that.
The story also contains real history and culture from Japan. There's an overall balance to the story telling. The music is good, though I generally don't pay attention to background music in movies and TV and wonder what they would be like without it sometimes.
Nobody has any complaints about this Netflix series and I'll have to agree with them. I have no complaints. This is one of those stories that might require to watch it again and to contemplate the plot. This is as story that requires some thought. Some people might not like that, but I do.
I wasn't expecting the gore. I was surprised the nudity and sex. But it did have a point. This is a layered plot. The motives of the characters not always pure. Especially Mizu's motives. They aren't completely sane, even though they are also understandable.
I'm keeping the spoilers down to a minimum. I recommend this story to anyone who's fully adult. I don't care how liberal you are with your kids, this is not a kid's story. It's on Netflix, the first episode is on YouTube. Overall, it's a good story. That's saying something since I'm not into gore. And it is very gory. The sex in the brothels is often weird. The plot pulls no punches.
I think I won't be the only woman who will appreciate this story. This is an antihero girl power plot with excellent supporting characters of both sexes. So, go check it out if you can.
(I know I contradicted myself about Mizu's mom being dead, then not, but that's part of the plot too.) I'd like to see some women give reviews for this series on YouTube and share their thoughts on it.
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Tides are turning
Masterlist
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!hunter, Sam winchester X Fem!hunter
Rating: R (violence, death, language, light smut)
Summary: When Sam died the first time, Dean brought him back to life. He didn't tell me about the deal he made with that demon until Sam forced him to tell me. We all knew that Dean only had one year left to live, and we all tried to prevent that from happening. The second time Sam was attacked by a demon close to Lilith and fought against it. he lost.
One year after Sam’s mysterious death weird things are happening and I realize things are not as they seem.
Authors Note: this story takes place post season 3(with the exceptional flashbacks to the past), difference being Sam died and Dean never went to hell. we experience the story through the eyes a female hunter who went to Stanford with Sam and joined Sam and Dean in their revenge quest after jess’s death. she is Deans girlfriend but there are things happening with Sam as well.
Introduction
My name is Diana Beck. You can call me Dee. I am 26 years old and currently live in Springfield, Philadelphia.
Maybe I'm better known as Dean Winchester's girlfriend.
Dean and I have been dating for over a year, and we live together in a two story house.
I really love Dean. He's my best friend, the best lover I've ever had, and we were meant to be together or whatever other nonsense you want to call it.
And Dean loves me more than I love him.
It's a little scary, because since his brother's death, Dean just doesn't love.
But when the yellow-eyed demon intervened, everything fell apart. Sam abandoned Stanford, abandoned me, and went to seek revenge with his brother.
Sam's death was not the only death of a loved one I experienced in my short life. My hunter father died when I was 18, and I cut ties with my mother when I left home and went to college.
I met Sam four years ago, at Stanford University.
We were the best of friends, two weirdo hunters in an academy of normals. We recognized the signs in each other, and connected immediately.
We always had deep feelings for each other, both when he had Jessica and when I became Dean's girlfriend. But it was complicated.
Things got better when he found Jessica, he really felt like he was happy and found his place.
When Sam died the first time, Dean brought him back to life.
I didn't give up on him, I followed him on his journey, and that's actually how I got to know Dean. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with him. And Sam watched from the sidelines, grieving, lost, yearning for revenge for the death of his lover, the death of his future.
It took a while but he finally accepted that I was hunting with them, and eventually understood that Dean and I were together.
But it doesn't matter now.
December 15th will be the anniversary of his death.
He didn't tell me about the deal he made with that demon until Sam forced him to tell me. We all knew that Dean only had one year left to live, and we all tried to prevent that from happening.
The second time Sam was attacked by a demon close to Lilith and fought against it. he lost.
In the first few months, I had to stop Dean all too often from trying to bring Sam back to life. He would run away from my watch, trying to make deals with demons, summoning witches, performing dark spells and what not. I knew that if he succeeded, it meant that he himself would die.
I looked after him twenty-four hours a day, we fought, shouted and cried, until he realized he had to give up.
Dean has lost everything he has. One after the other, and it just kept getting worse.
Even if I could, I would never want to fathom the amount of pain that Dean went through in his life. And what's more, I'll never be able to understand how he just got back on his feet and went on living. I think it was, mainly, thanks to his brother.
Sam's death, that was what broke him.
Dean cried. Oh yes, tough, strong, not emotional Dean cried, for days and weeks.
This was not the Dean that everyone knew, and they were afraid - no one knows how to comfort the inconsolable.
So they all just disappeared. Everyone except me.
I was the one who stood next to him at the funeral, following with my gaze at the tears that flowed from his gorgeous green eyes. He refused to burn Sam’s body so we buried him a beautiful green field next to Bobby’s house.
I was the one sleeping next to him in bed in the days that followed.
I remember that sometimes Dean would get up and go to the kitchen so that I wouldn't wake up as he tried to drink himself to death.
And when I woke up, I would follow him down the stairs after a few minutes, and he would soak my shoulders with tears and unnecessary questions of "what if?"
I just ran my fingers through his hair and kept quiet.
And then the nightmares began. A lot of nightmares. He would moan and call Sam's name every night, along with mumbling apologies and self-loathing. I never told him that. I didn't think it was necessary.
I would just cling to him long enough for him to wake up with heavy breathing. After a few seconds he would tighten his arms around me, and I would listen to the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat until he calmed down again and fell asleep.
Things have changed now. Dean no longer has nightmares, and he doesn't cry.
He didn't cry when Jo died, he didn't cry when Bella was dragged to Hell, where he was supposed to be.
He was too busy finding the same demon that killed Sam and killing it himself. He is still busy with it.
Dean also stopped loving. He stopped trusting people but himself. He shut himself up and only himself.
Like old Dean, only worse.
Chapter 1
That's why the fact that he loves me so much is a little scary.
I guess he's just afraid of losing me too.
It's 8:30 in the morning and Dean is driving me to work in his black Impala.
My part-time job, what I do besides hunting demons and spirits is taking and editing photos for the local newspaper. I'm pretty good at it, to be honest.
"Hey, Dee," Dean said as he drove.
"Yes?" I answered, flipping through the photos of the soccer player I took yesterday.
"Are you going to work late tonight?" He asked.
"No." I replied curtly and added, "Why?"
Dean didn't answer. The truth is I know exactly why. Today is the 14th of December.
“I'll be home by five thirty." I added softly as Dean parked the car. I leaned close to him and kissed him a little longer than the usual ‘bye’ kiss, just to show him I was here. I knew he would understand. That's what I love about us - we have our own ways of understanding each other. without words.
"Bye, baby." He said quietly and I got out of the car towards the building where my office is. My office was on the third floor out of seven, and it was small but comfortable. The walls were painted light purple and there was a picture of me, Dean and Sam on the desk, drinking beers and smiling. Happier days. I placed my things on the table and sat in my chair. Today I have to edit the photos I took yesterday.
I hardly had time to turn on the computer and the door was already opened.
"Good morning," said Ben. Ben is my co-worker, and a good friend of mine.
"Morning." I replied.
Ben leaned forward on my desk. "What do we have today?" he asked with a smile. I never understood how he could be happy in the morning.
"Some pictures of the soccer player, what's his name. And editing." I sighed. I didn't have much patience for work today. I wondered how Dean was.
"Great. Coffee?" He handed me a cup of coffee in addition to the one he had in his hand.
"Thanks, Ben." I smiled at him gratefully and took the cup, sipping it slowly. 2 coffee, half sugar. Just the way I like it. I took my camera and took a picture of Ben sipping his coffee, without him noticing. I like to take pictures like this - secret, completely random; of the people I love.
"So what are your plans for the weekend?" Ben asked with a mischievous grin, as if he had something to offer up his sleeve.
"Nothing." I answered. "And I'm not going to plan anything either." I said, canceling his offer before he even offered it.
His face fell a little flat and he raised his eyebrow. "Why?"
I took another sip of the coffee. "Tomorrow is the anniversary of Sam's death." I answered slowly.
"And that means that...?"
"That means me and Dean are going to sit at home all day and drink our feelings away."
"Charming."
"Yes."I didn't show my feelings surrounding Sam's death to Ben. Although my heart almost threatened to explode with grief. I just don't like showing emotions very much. But some people just read me. People like Ben, Dean, and Sam.Dean reads me best. Sam was right after him on the list. I glanced over to watch a frozen-in-time Sam smiling at me from the framed photo. I felt my eyes water and I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump at my throat. Ben leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. It was a good, comforting feeling. I smiled a little.
"So, what are your plans? Another wild dance party until morning?" I asked.
Ben shook his head. "No. Drake is a douchebag. He wants to stay at the office for the weekend. That's why I wanted you to come with me."
Ben is gay. a complete loss for women kind. Raven black hair, blue eyes and a body to die for. One sweet dimple on his left cheek. eye candy.
"Ow," I chuckled. "Looks like the party animal is going to stay home and watch gay porn all night."
"Ha-ha."
_
I opened the door to mine and Dean's house at a quarter to seven. Dean was on the couch, watching TV and eating pizza. I smiled.
"Thanks for waiting for my dinner, honey." I said sarcastically.
"Yeah, thanks for being late." He called out to me.
I walked towards the couch and sat next to him. He was watching some kind of drama series about a hospital. typical.
"Sorry Babe. I was hungry." He added softly. When I could clearly see his face, I noticed a large, swollen bruise under his left eye and another small wound under his lip. I wasn’t surprised. This happened often.
"Who did we fight today?" I asked.
"She was a ghost," he said, spitting out food as he did so. "A teen girl."
I laughed. "A little girl beat you up."
"She was 15!" He defended himself. "And she was taller than you."
I rested my head on his shoulder. He got the hint and raised his hand so I could lean on his chest and he wrapped his arm around me in a warm hug. I took a pizza slice from the two he left for me from the entire tray. He ate everything else.
"How do you manage to eat so much and stay so fit? You don't even go to the gym. Tell me the secret."
"It’s the constant fear and near death experiences, keeps me young.” we both laughed, light hearted but with a slight weird edge to it. “You don't need to lose weight. You're so hot the way you are." he said, running his fingers through my hair."
You meant to say 'beautiful'."
"Obviously."
We stayed like that in front of the TV for quite some time, talking about nothing. We didn't talk about Sam. We postponed it as much as possible. I gave up and went to bed before Dean. He said he would come soon. I lay on my back with my eyes open towards the ceiling. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until Dean came. Usually this wasn't a big problem. Tonight is yes.
I stayed like that for a while until Dean came in, drops of water dripping from his hair.He climbed onto his side of the bed and I turned to him, the white of his eyes standing out in the darkness. I saw everything in them, and I didn't like what I saw.
"Don't let it take you away again, Dean." I said in a whisper, touching his face lightly. He closed his eyes.
"I won't," he replied. It could not be put off any longer. "Even if I did, you'd be here to slap me in the face and tell me to pull myself together, wouldn't you?" He smiled but it was not a pleasant smile.
I remembered Sam's smile. He had a wonderful smile, the kind of smiles that light you up from the inside and melt you completely. That smile died along with Sam. I missed him so much. I nodded and leaned forward a little, kissing Dean’s soft lips. I could feel the wound on the side of his lip.
"Good night, Dee." he whispered.
"Good night." I replied, and we both fell asleep in this position, only a breath away from each other.
That night Dean called Sam's name in his sleep again.
-
(...I left my third film class and walked slowly down the Stanford halls, heading out onto the lawn.
It was my first week at university, my first attempt at living a normal life. I wasn't going to give up the hunting life, but I really liked taking pictures, and I wanted to feel what it was like to live like everyone else, and not like a freak of nature.
Although most of the time I felt out of place and stressed, I hoped it would get better.
I sat down on the grass and skimmed over the notes I had written in class, but I was in no mood for learning anymore.
I took my camera out of my bag and observed my surroundings. I took casual pictures; A student reading a book, girls who chattered and laughed, a bird looking for food crumbs in the grass.
I looked back at the student I had photographed. He was sitting a few feet away from me on the lawn reading a law textbook.
For some reason he seemed interesting to me. He had bright turquoise eyes and slightly messy brown hair. He seems disconnected from the environment, but it is evident that he feels comfortable where he is.
Suddenly he looked up and looked at me, as if he felt that I was staring at him. I looked away almost immediately; I didn't want to look weird already in my first week.
After a few seconds I looked at him again, just to make sure he wasn't too weirded-out. He was already back reading the book, smiling to himself as he did.
He had that smile. Really bright, like it could light up a room. If there is something I liked about people, especially men, it was their smiles.
I smiled to myself and went back to reviewing my notes, not really concentrating on them anymore.)
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Everywhere you go i hope you know you're never alone.
Summary:
A female perspective on dealing with love, losing people, growing up and the effects one person can have in the space of a year while navigating complicated families, mental health, and education.
A teen girls admittance of bottled up emotions in the form of a one sided conversation addressed to a boy who will never know her feelings. Her feelings for him is the start of a realisation and year long journey of growth, anger and feminine frustration.
TW - underage drinking, talks of abuse, depression, anxiety, mature topics
Chapter 1: Unexplained explanation
I hate you so much but I can’t stop thinking about you. At first you were only a name I heard from my friend, well my best friend at the time, Flossie. She would talk about you non-stop and I think it’s because she liked you a lot. Most the stuff she said about you was kinda negative. I read somewhere that when people constantly bring up someone in a way to put them down, when the person hasn’t done anything, it’s usually because they like them and are trying to find ways to talk about that person without raising suspicion. I’m not entirely sure on the validity of that, but I’m half convinced there’s some truth behind that idea. Anyways, I heard about you before I even met you. You and my friend had some sort of thing going on between You two, if it was romantic I cannot say for sure but I have a strong inclination it was. I don’t think you would have ever been right for each other, you were both too different. I remember her talking about the arguments you’d have, it’s a good thing you were never together. Perhaps I say that selfishly, but I remember thinking that before I ever met you. Although nothing happened and you two moved on,I don’t think she ever did, and maybe you didn’t either. That’s not something I’ll ever know. Well, either way the truth is there’s something about you that entices people in but you’re too noncommittal to ever let people satisfy their curiosity.
You’re a Handsome man and you know you are and you receive plenty of attention, you know how to play up your allure, annoyingly. Your demeanour and your looks match each other well, but your personality is one that surprised me at first. All I knew of you before I met you was a second hand impression attached with pictures I’d seen on social media. From what I’d been told you were some sort of player, with this aloof arty in a writer type of way, with some angsty attitude somewhere in the mix. The trouble is knowing things about you from someone else meant I knew things you never told me and maybe for personal reasons. I feel bad about it now, although at the time I was only listening to a new story my friend had, what could be wrong with that? The more I got to know you on my own I felt like we had more and more in common. In fact I found you to be a really diligent and smart person, with a secret soft side. My friend told me about your past and about how your sister made false allegations of abuse against you and your dad, causing your family to drift apart. You made it very clear that you didn’t like your sister, which, to be honest came off slightly weird as you never disclosed this to anyone else. Knowing the deeper reason I can sympathise, especially as a similar situation happened with me. I never told you this but my brother was physically abusive to me, my sisters and mum. On multiple occasions the police had to get involved. This is something I’ve never really told anyone and I know you’ll never know this but I just wanted you to know I get it. I’m sorry I know about it.
In reality it’s silly how much of an impact you’ve had on me, I keep talking about how before I met you but I’ve only ever actually met you in person a handful of time. Most of the time we spoke it was via text or message embarrassingly on Snapchat, oh and there was lots of calls on Facetime. I can remember every time I met you and all the thoughts I had and my feelings around those times. I’ve known you for just over a year; you’ve changed my life greatly in that time, but for you? It’s like I entered and left yours without any evidence I was ever there. I have so many things I wanna say to you or admit to you but I can’t and never will. I’ve never met someone who has made me so upset, happy, confused, and frustrated all at once. My situation that adds a secondary layer to my friendship to you is confusing but makes a little bit of sense of all that went on, what I felt and maybe still feel. This is a layer I need to explore in words for myself as I write this. I speak addressing you in this, but I hope you understand this is more an exercise for me. I need to make sense of who I’ve been over the last year or so, and let myself move on emotionally from a part of my life that I can’t figure out. A map of the times we met, our calls, you, what everything meant to me. A route to understanding my place as a woman, and the helplessness I feel.
It’s not all your fault, but I’d like to at least hear you say “I’m sorry”, Benji.
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