#imagine little baby Jess stuck in a book or maybe watching

[pizzabookbuying]

sometimes I think it is the world’s teeniest tiniest tragedy that Jess Mariano does not have at least a LITTLE bit of a New York accent

#to be fair I’m not exactly an accent connoisseur. #but sometimes milo says something that is very california and sometimes my heart breaks a little bit for the accent that never was #and also I think it would have been really interesting to explore how Jess maybe intentionally changed the way he spoke. because Luke and #liz both have a little bit of what sounds like an east coast accent #(maybe I’m crazy about that one feel free to correct me) #and Jess doesn’t really have that accent. but I can also #imagine little baby Jess stuck in a book or maybe watching #movies etc etc and being like wow there are so many different ways to speak! (and then proceeding to have his first little rebellion against #Liz via taking on different speech patterns as a way to distinguish himself from her)

[jesse-eisenberg-interview]

Q&A With Jesse Eisenberg, Bloomingtonian

The Social Network star releases an audio drama on Audible this month called When You Finish Saving the World, which he’ll adapt as a film for 2021. We talked with him about the story’s Bloomington origins, cleaning floors at the women’s shelter there, and fatherhood.

I’m currently sitting in a park in Greencastle, watching a guy mow the softball field. Where are you?

I’m doing the exact same thing. Really. I’m looking at a baseball field in Bloomington.

For years, I read straight past your byline in The New Yorker. I always thought the writer Jesse Eisenberg was just someone who shared your name. But that was you! How common is your name in New York City?

It’s not so common there. Maybe in Israel, I don’t know. But there’s a very sweet kid who works with the public theater in New York who has the same name as me. He’s Chinese, but he was adopted by a Jewish family when he was born. He came to a play of mine, and he came up afterwards and met me. He said, “I’m you,” and he showed me his ID.

You’ve been living in Bloomington during the pandemic, which seems an unusual choice for a movie star. What do you do at 4:30 in the afternoon in Bloomington?

I think everybody’s life during the pandemic boils down to two or three activities and nothing else. We have a three-year-old child, so generally I’m either with my son talking about the different sounds that car horns make or trying to teach him how to trace squares or something. If not that, then I have a couple of professional things going on right now. I’m in a kind of pre-production phase for the movie When You Finish Saving the World, so I’m speaking to costume designers and meeting with the crew. And if not that, I’m at the women’s shelter volunteering. So that has been my cycle and it’s been great. It’s really quiet here in Bloomington.

I assume you’re referring to Middle Way House, the Bloomington-based domestic violence shelter. What’s your connection to that place?

For 35 years, my mother-in-law Toby Strout ran Middle Way, which is not just a domestic violence shelter—it provides transitional housing and legal counseling, and they work with victims of sex trafficking. It’s an incredible place, but due to COVID-19, they lost a lot of student volunteers. So my wife and I came here in March, and I’ve been volunteering there about four days a week. I’m doing painting, cleaning, and maintenance.

Sounds like important but menial work. Do you just grin and bear it?

Not at all. It’s been one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve had. Being involved in something with a direct benefit to people who are vulnerable has been really fulfilling. So I go there as much as possible. I was there until 1 a.m. the other night, waxing a floor for somebody who was moving in. This has been a very unusual period of my life. I think for a lot of people, the pandemic has kind of thrown off whatever their routine was. For me, that has been a good thing.

Does the volunteer work help you adapt to isolation? Is it easier to write?

It’s good for my psyche. It’s nice to just get out of the house and to have somewhere to go. When I’m writing, it can be stifling sitting at home all day. I was in New York when I wrote this audio book, and I’d go to the library everyday just to have somewhere to go. It breaks up the day. Being completely stuck at home would make me crazy.

Can you tell me a bit about creating the audio book? It’s structured as three long, recorded monologues set in different times in the lives of a family. You portray the first character. How autobiographical is this project?

It’s really not. Long before I got here, I knew a guy who told me that he had a newborn daughter and that he felt very little for his child, while his wife was immediately connected to the baby. And he was kind of embarrassed and felt guilty. And it just stayed with me because it’s such an honest thing to say, but it occurred to me that it might not be uncommon. If you’re not the one carrying the child, I imagine it might be difficult to have an immediate connection. It felt like that was an interesting character to write about. And my wife and I had just had a baby. So when I met the people from Audible and they told me that they were creating fiction exclusively for this medium, it occurred to me that this story would work really well there. Because you can get the internal struggle of this guy recording these diary entries for a therapist.

How did you do with your baby?

That’s not really what happened with me. I felt kind of bonded, so to speak, right away. I only have sympathy for people who don’t have that bond. They’re missing such a wonderful aspect of life.

And now you’re about to make the story into a movie. Did you always know you would adapt it for that medium as well?

Whenever I’m writing anything, I always try to think, What do I know, that most people don’t know about? And there’s not much. I really like basketball, so I know a lot about basketball. But that’s not a vital issue. But because of my mother-in-law and my wife’s work at a domestic violence shelter, I know some stories from that world. It’s one that I think not a lot of people know about. There’s a character who’s more of a tertiary character in the audiobook; we hear her start her story when she’s 18 years old on the campus of IU, but we never really hear from her as an adult. So the movie kind of focuses on her as a woman running this domestic violence shelter in Bloomington. She’s raising a kid who she resents because he’s a capitalist, and she’s a socialist. The movie is the story of a mother and a son. When I wrote it, it seemed like it could work as a film. And it didn’t seem impossible to make as a first film, which matters because I have not directed before.

I know you’ve directed plays. Does any of that translate?

No, I’m in over my head. Fortunately, the movie is pretty simple.

But you’re not filming it in Bloomington. Why?

Unfortunately, Indiana doesn’t offer tax incentives for filmmakers. And for an independent movie, it’s really hard to film here because when they finance these independent movies, they take into account the fact that they’re going to shoot in an area that’s going to provide some tax incentives. So Manitoba—which incidentally has a very low number of COVID-19 cases right now—offers this. I mean, this kind of thing can double the budget of small movies. I wish the Indiana legislature would create a tax incentive, because it would be great to film here.

Why? What makes Bloomington so special?

Bloomington is the most unusual place I’ve ever been. My wife grew up here, so I had heard about it for a long time. But living here, just on our block, you have the world’s best hammered dulcimer player. One of the most important lawyers for advocating against the use of the death penalty is a neighbor. There’s a pediatrician and a cellist. The most interesting people in the world go to these college towns. I grew up in the suburbs on the East coast, where we thought of the Midwest as pretty homogenous. That’s the impression I had before I came here. It was an amazing surprise to see such a community-minded city of interesting, diverse people. The fact that a place like Middle Way has the shelter here, it attracts so many people who want to volunteer, who want to help because the town is so community-minded. I just feel so fortunate to be here in Indiana.

SOURCE

#jesse eisenberg #2020 #when you finish saving the world

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #376

“when the wind bends the branch to softly touch me  /  when the band plays your song  /  i feel strong enough to keep dreaming”

If your s/o smoked pot/did drugs would you care? Yes, but for pot that's only because it's illegal here. I also find smoking to be a turn-off, but I'd be able to look past that if it was for actual health reasons. Do people ever call you by your last name? No. Has the last person you dated/fell in love with ever seen you cry? Yes. Where are you going on your next vacation (or where do you WANT to go)? I've got none planned, nor do I know where I'd want to prioritize. Like there's South Africa, but I first need to get healthier before I could handle the heat and trudging through sand. I want to go to Yellowstone National Park to spread Teddy's ashes there (seeking permission of course), but again, I need to be in better shape before I go on a venture of photographing there, as well. I need to be healthier to do a lot of the things I want to... Do you own anything bought in another country? No. Who do you text the most? Sara. Four things you wish you had? Better health (including mental), financial stability, a job, and motivation to indulge more in my artistic hobbies. What was the last thing you cried about? Stress regarding this dog we're stuck with. What is your favorite Elvis song? Probably "You're The Devil In Disguise." Do you think you could be the next American Idol? Ha, absolutely not. Do you prefer reading fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, by a long shot. Does anybody send you money in the mail for your birthday? No. My grampa used to, but he's been dead a couple years. Who is one person you met and automatically didn’t like? I was not a fan of a doctor I once saw for my tremors. She was very rude and just threw the idea of me having Parkinson's or something at what, 17 years old or whatever? My psychiatrist knows her as well and knows she's a whackjob. Heard her name and was essentially like "ew" lmao. What monster would you be most afraid to have in your closet? A male one with a knife, I guess. I really hate knives. And men scare me anyway. Which Adam Sandler movie do you like the most? I don't know, he's in too many to possibly think of one right off the top of my head. Who was one of your first celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney was my first true love, haha. Have you ever been hit on through text messages? Yes. Do you have to do any yard work? No. Have you ever mowed the lawn? No. Do you get an allowance? No. Did you ever know your great grandparents? I think I knew one? There was this woman from my childhood I knew as "GG" for "great grandma," but I have no recollection of who she was related to or even if she was directly related to me. I remember that I really really liked her, though. Do you like the taste of Tums? It's the texture I really don't like. The candy-like Tums though, y'know, not the chalky ones, I like more than someone should like medicine, haha. How about Pepto Bismol? Omfg no. Do you have a fast or slow metabolism? I have a slow metabolism, but thank Christ it's not as bad as when I was on Abilify. That stupid fucking medicine was the reason I gained so much weight that I haven't been able to lose. What’s your favorite onomatopoeia? (Crash, bang, zoom, meow) I dunno. Do you eat ramen? There's only one specific kind of ramen I've had that I like: Yakisoba's spicy chicken one. Sweet or regular pickles? Regular. I don't like sweet pickles. What kind of dreams do you have most often? Since my nightmares started, violent ones. I'm usually trying to defend myself or lashing out at someone myself. What do you do for personal growth? I try to be a deep thinker, for one. This can way too easily lead to overthinking, but I appreciate that I think it at least helps me learn from my mistakes and work towards making me a better person. I need to start challenging my anxiety more, as that would definitely be massive growth... If you could read anyone’s mind, who would be the first person you’d read? Jason's, only because all I want to know is if he thinks I was emotionally abusive after the breakup or not. But I also don't want to know. Do you have a makeup item or style trick that you feel improves your look significantly and that you feel like you couldn’t go without now that you have it? No. What’s your favourite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I like a lot of cereals. Do you prefer red wine or white wine? I don't like wine. Way too bitter. Do you read Reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? I don't, but I've thought about lurking on a reptile husbandry one or something like that. Might learn some stuff. But at the same time, there are so many conflicting and very strong opinions amongst hobbyists to the point of awful toxicity that I'd rather not read. Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? No. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? God no. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? Probably Scrabble back when Sara visited. Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? Cash, because I don't have a debit or credit card. Do you believe sex should be mandatory in an ongoing dating relationship? Um, no? Some people don't care for it, and that's completely fine. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you like deviled eggs? NO. FUCK that yolk shit. What career are you most interested in? I still think my first career goal, a paleontologist, would be most interesting and exciting. Like just IMAGINE discovering a new dinosaur. And it's such a job of passion - you have to be so, SO careful and invest so much time in slowly recovering it from millions of years of rock and sand and time. I can only imagine the feeling of accomplishment when an excavation is complete. Have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah? What do you think about religion? Honestly, I personally wish it had never been a thing. It's brought with it so much hatred and bigotry, but I do acknowledge at the same time it's brought great comfort and hope to some people, and that's wonderful. But just all things considered, I feel it's done more harm than good. What’s your favorite sweetheart name (baby, honey, angel, dumpling) Probably "lovely." Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yes, back when I babysat my neighbor's kid once. Have you ever thrown a grenade? Yikes, no. Have you ever talked face to face with someone famous before? No. Have you ever owned a rocking horse? I don't think so? If you could meet anyone in the world who would it be? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Have you ever wished you were dead? Yes. Is it awkward when people start talking all deep around you? No, I actually like deep convos. Have you ever played the old school Pac Man arcade game? Possibly? Ever played Mario Karts on Nintendo 64? No. Have you ever been scuba diving? No. Can you surf/boogie board? No. Do you like Chinese food, Mexican food, or American food better? American. What’s your favorite thing to order from Taco Bell? Cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatos. Sometimes I get the cinnabon delight thingies, but I avoid 'em with how unhealthy they are. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Pretty hot. Do you like to swing? I LOVED swinging as a kid. I haven't done it in a very long time now. How about jumping on a trampoline? I loved that as a kiddo, too. I haven't done that in years. What are you favorite color eyes? Sapphire blue or like an emerald green. Do you have long arm hair? Nah, at least I don't think so. What third generation console is your favorite? PS3, Xbox 360, or Wii? I loved my PS3. I'm still so bummed mine broke. How often do you like to have sex? I'm not sexually active, but even when I was, I didn't care. Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? Not really. I think I look stoic most of the time. Do you always listen to music when you’re online? No; I usually have a let's play or something like that on that I can split my screen and watch while doing something else. If so, what are you currently listening to? I'm listening to "Love Goes On And On" by Lindsey Stirling and Amy Lee right now. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? Yes, like how to control the laundry machine and other things like that. There's just so many options that I never, ever remember what to set it to, no matter how many times Mom shows me. That's how my memory is with most things these days, really... Were you born with naturally straight teeth? No; I needed braces. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? Uhhh maybe Severin. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? I love both, but sour wins. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? I also enjoy both, but the original are better. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? That's like... impossible to answer, lol. I just love everything. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Do you secretly still listen to Ace of Base? I have no idea who that is. Have you ever broken someone else’s bone? No, thank goodness. I'd feel awful. Is it stupid to think you can write a book at thirteen? No?????????? There are incredibly talented writers out there at young ages. Hell, I remember as a kid, I wanted to be the youngest published author way before that age. Are you ever embarrassed about what you dream about? There've been some I wouldn't share. Have you ever had sex with someone as a favor? No, and I never would. Does your mom let you date? I'm 25, my dude. She let me when I felt ready, though. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? She doesn't have one, but hypothetically, fuck no. Because that's none of my damn business, and it still wouldn't be even if we were still dating. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not have you ever come close? I've fainted once when I was a teen and have come close many other times. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in class, or how you used to before you took the class? Yeah; it was mandatory for I think one year in middle school. I type how I was taught in there. Do you find your best friend’s significant other/crush attractive? She doesn't have an s/o, and idk who her "real" crush is, as much as she'd love Frieza to be real, haha. What do you do with your clothes that don’t fit anymore or just don’t want? Donate them. Do you cut out coupons? My mom will keep some fast food ones she gets in the mail sometimes. Did you ever breathe in helium and talk funny afterwards? I think I did once at a birthday party, but I'm unsure. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? I want to be a freelance photographer so, so badly. I want to specialize in nature and wildlife, but having a boudoir studio would be great to help keep me afloat, plus I adore the art of boudoir. I've shot it once for an old friend, and by god, I loved how empowered it made her feel, especially as a plus-sized woman. She adored the pictures, and I'd just love to help other clients feel like they're gorgeous in their unique body, too. Last type of candy you ate? I had a donut from Starbuck's yesterday. Did you decorate your house for Halloween? If so, how many decorations? Did you go all out, or just put up a few things? Mom and I don't really decorate anymore. :/

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''love goes on and on (feat. amy lee)'' by lindsey stirling

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Of Princess Bride Past

PART THIRTY-TWO OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Ella plays piano for the first time in a long while.

Rushing up the stairs to the apartment, Ella almost tripped more than once. The main floor of Truncheon was empty, books shut and the sign on the front door turned to Closed. Rain showered down hard, and all manner of umbrella patterns could be seen on the sidewalk outside. Her own umbrella, collapsed and dripping, sat next to the front door. She’d practically thrown it down in her hurry. Biting down on her cheek, she was nearly out of breath by the time she made it through the apartment door. Everyone was mingling in the living room, nursing beers and waiting for the last member of the group to arrive. They looked up at the sound of her huffy entrance and offered greetings.

She barely gave anyone a glance as she hung up her raincoat and began undoing her french braid on her walk to the bedroom. “Sorry, sorry. Just give me five minutes and I won’t look like a bank teller anymore.”

Seven o’clock had come and gone, and she had still been stuck in the lecture hall, while her advisor gave her notes on the presentation in art history. All in all, her advisor had been impressed. But she was not one for brevity, and Ella had taken several anxious peeks at her watch during the review. It was the last day of class before spring break, and Ella was eager for the week off. She’d been so busy with midterms, she hadn’t been able to make it to any of Leo’s recent gigs. But he was due on stage at Keeley’s between eight and eight-thirty. And there was no way she was going to the show dressed in her blazer and pencil skirt, gray and stiff. She’d worn it only because one of the oldest men on the entire faculty had been sitting in on her presentation, and Ella had heard about his penchant for professionalism.

Ella thought she heard Chris yell some crack at her outfit after her, but she had already slammed the bedroom door. She stripped out of her clothes, throwing them in the hamper with disdain. She hoped it would be some time before she would have to wear anything of the sort again. Opening up a dresser drawer, she ran her eyes over prospective outfits for the night.

Breathing a frustrated sigh, she pulled a grayish-purple babydoll dress over her head and went to sit down on the bed to tug on her fishnets. After having appraised herself in the mirror above the dresser, she decided her makeup was decent enough and touch-ups would be unnecessary. She was wearing far less than normal, anyway. She had a feeling the ancient history professor who sat in wouldn’t exactly smile upon thick eyeliner or dark lipstick. The need to change her look simply to please the man made her skin crawl, but she could see no other way out. He had once ordered a graduate student out from behind the podium because his shirt had a stain.

The next time she was in class, though, she would be back in her grungy attire. Just putting on the fishnets made her feel more comfortable than she had been all day. She reached under the bed, grabbed her Doc Martens, and laced them up faster than she previously thought was humanly possible.

She was about to go back out into the living room, prepared to return to the flooded streets at a moment’s notice. But then she passed the mirror again and, on second thought, decided she simply couldn’t stand not doing something interesting with her face. She swiped on some dark wine-colored lipstick and gave herself a tiny cateye with a trained, precise hand. Having done winged liner on and off since high school, she found practice had made her skilled enough to get it right on the first try about half the time. It was perhaps her greatest accomplishment in life.

Grabbing her secondhand leather jacket, she trudged back out into the living room. She ran her fingers through her hair a few more times, untangling the remnants of her braid and smoothing down the dark blonde waves.

“We wouldn’t have been late even if we left thirty minutes from now,” Matthew said, standing up with Mabel by his side.

“Well, on time is late, and early is on time,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chris rolled his eyes as he also rose, from his armchair, and made his way to the coat rack. “Were you the hall monitor or something in high school?”

Jess snorted a laugh, his nose still buried in a Hunter Thompson book where he sat on the couch. “Far from it.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, Mariano?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

Smirking, Jess shut his book and tossed it on the coffee table. He went to grab his black jacket, while everyone mingled by the door, ready to brave the weather on the short walk to Keeley’s. “You threatened to stab me the first time you met me.”

“With a butterknife,” Ella countered defensively.

The rest of the group snickered, exiting the apartment and filing down the stairs.

“Ah, young love,” Chris teased. His pale cheeks were rosy, his blue eyes wide with excitement. Despite how much of a pain in the ass he could be, Ella felt her heart warmed to see how proud he was of his boyfriend.

“I thought he was trying to rob the diner,” Ella continued, grabbing her umbrella again before they went out onto the grimy, damp streets.

The rain had lessened slightly, to a chilly drizzle, but was still wet against her face. Jess took the umbrella from her, then interlaced their fingers with his free hand. She glanced up at him in thanks, and he winked in response. She could feel the scar from where the knife had sliced him the night they planned for their first date.

“Quite the menace, was he?” Matthew asked over his shoulder. Mabel had her arm linked with his, following along with the conversation. They had known her for a few weeks, but Ella suspected she hadn’t quite become comfortable. She was more timid than Ella expected for an actress, but she was truly sweet. Wore her heart on her sleeve, a quality Ella also recognized in Matthew.

“Oh yeah. Dennis was his middle name,” Ella smiled nostalgically. “Think if Sid Vicious and Elvis had a baby. Whose big moves are stealing gnomes and doing close-up magic.”

Chris laughed out loud, nudging Jess in the ribs. Jess blushed, glaring at Ella.

“Aw, were you a little Criss Angel wannabe?” Chris crooned, mocking.

Jess rolled his eyes. “I was not. It seemed to charm Eleanor just fine, anyhow.”

“I was young and misguided,” she said wistfully.

“And you were tripping over your own feet at least once a week,” Jess chimed in. “Though, not much has changed on that front.”

Ella scoffed. “You worked at Walmart.”

“You bought a Train album!”

“That was one time!”

“Once is plenty!”

Staring at him for a long moment, she finally uttered a defeated sigh. “You’re right. Train sucks.”

“Sure does,” Chris chimed in with an amused grin, then shook his head at them fondly and linked up ahead with Mabel and Matthew.

“You’ve won the battle, Mariano,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “Not the war.”

“Believe me, I know,” he replied, squeezing her hand affectionately, a smirk on his face. “How’d your presentation go today?”

Ella’s face lost a bit of its mirth and she shrugged, dejected. “Okay, I think. My advisor said I was talking too fast, but otherwise I did well. We’ll see.”

“I bet they didn’t know what hit ‘em, honey. I mean, we practiced like fifty times. You had it word-for-word last night,” he said, growing more earnest. “I’m sure you were amazing.”

She averted her eyes from him. “Maybe. I felt like I was getting suffocated up there wearing those clothes, though.”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t the worst outfit,” Jess said. “It had a certain American Psycho thing going for it.”

“And that’s good?” she asked with a doubtful chuckle.

“Not good, per say, but definitely interesting,” he replied, nonchalant. “I can’t believe you can do things like that. Just get up there and speak. I would pass out on the spot.”

“Well, then I’m glad you’ve got a job where you can be all Phantom of the Opera and hide out in that tiny office all day,” she said with a grin.

Over the past few weeks, the guys had finally turned the back rooms of Truncheon, previously just storage space, into offices. Each one could barely hold a desk, but they were enough. Jess had already collected an impressive pile of books in one corner. The Hudson River sketch sat in a small frame next to his bulky, aged computer.

“Yep. Counting my blessings,” he quipped flatly as they approached the bar.

.   .   .

For once, the St. Patrick’s Day decorations hung year-round at Keeley’s were semi-appropriate, with the holiday having been only a week past. They shone, green and tacky, in the yellow light of the main room. Leo sat on a stool on the small stage, doing his final number. An array of instruments were set out around him: guitars, tambourines, a keyboard, a bass. His closing song was played on a ruan, a Chinese lute he’d bought as a teen on a trip to visit his grandparents, when he was just beginning to write his own music. Ella thought it was perhaps his versatility that made Leo such an incredible musician. As only a half-decent piano player, she couldn’t imagine learning something with strings or sticks. She had no idea how he had picked up so many different skills.

Chris, Matthew and Mabel were all floating in the middle distance somewhere between buzzed and fully drunk, nursing local beers and watching Leo with thoughtful, glazed eyes. Both Jess and Ella sipped on club soda, sat in the booth across the table from their friends. No matter how much Ella insisted she didn’t care if Jess drank, he never really did. He thought it was a pretty good idea, considering his own mother’s history with addiction. And what was the point of being drunk if Ella wasn’t going to be drunk with him? It would be no fun if he couldn’t go on the ride with her, anyway.

The crowd had been lively when they first arrived, tables packed and customers chatty. But as the evening wore on, parties left, congestion dissipated. A few lonely individuals sat solemnly at the main bar. Leo had a moderately receptive audience, though the band performing before him had a bit more notoriety and a larger fan-base. By the final number, only the five of them remained at their half-table, half-booth, looking on with pride and intrigue. Ella thought she had never seen Chris smile so big as he did at Leo’s gigs. The starry gaze was a bit saccharine, but most of the time it was tolerable, and even cute.

“He’s really good,” Mabel said softly as Leo reached the instrumental.

“Isn’t he?” Ella whispered back across the table emphatically.

Mabel nodded, her bright brown eyes sparkling. “His voice kinda reminds me of The Smiths”

Ella’s smile widened. “I love them!”

“Oh, they were basically all I listened to in high school,” Mabel said, nodding in agreement.

“Not you too,” Jess chagrined from beside Ella, his arm around her shoulders.

“What?” Mabel asked, raising one of her thick eyebrows. Ella wished she could have Mabel’s eyebrows. They seemed to be shaped perfectly, and didn’t even need to be filled in.  

“Jess thinks he’s too good for indie,” Ella said.

“No, I just never find myself in the mood to listen to some guy whine into the microphone,” Jess said, scoffing slightly.

Ella shook her head in disappointment. “It’s poetry!”

“Even worse,” Jess retorted.

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t respond as Leo began singing again. Jess’s fingers ghosted over her shoulder up and down, making pleasant goosebumps rise on her freckled skin. As Leo’s voice rolled gently over the last few words of the song, Ella closed her eyes and felt the notes vibrate in her chest. Jess looked over and found her looking calm, far away inside her mind as she listened. He pressed a kiss to her hair and a tiny smile passed over her lips, though she didn’t open her eyes until the final chord finished its reverberation through the room. The five of them erupted in cheers and applause, which sounded scant in the nearly empty place. Leo smirked at them from the stage and gave a mocking bow.

“They say the underground following is the most devoted,” he muttered into the mic, stripping off his ruan. Then, he looked up at the large clock across the room. “But since we’ve still got ten minutes left, why don’t we get secret musical prodigy Ella Stevens up here?”

Ella’s brow crinkled with confusion, and her smile faltered. “What?”

“You never told me about the piano thing! C’mon, take advantage of this keyboard,” Leo called over the mic.

She glared over at Chris, who pretended not to feel her eyes on him. “What did you tell him?”

After a moment, Chris slowly craned his neck in her direction. “Who? Me?”

“Asshole,” she hissed under her breath, narrowing her eyes.

“Hey, I was simply relaying what little interesting information exists about you,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

Ella ran her finger horizontal across her neck, a teasing threat.

“We don’t have all night, Ella,” Leo continued into the mic.

“Yeah, let’s hear it, Ella. I’m sure you’re great,” Mabel said genuinely, leaning over the table, conspiratory and cheerful. The positivity would have been annoying if Mabel were not so down-to-earth.

“Agreed,” Matthew chimed in.

Ella laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “No one wants to subject their ears to that, I promise.”

“I don’t know, Stevens. I was pretty starstruck the one time I heard you play in all six years I’ve known you,” Jess smirked, eyebrows raised.

“Judas,” she spat at him, removing his arm from her shoulder.

“If you can get up in front of two hundred people to talk about the effect of the lost generation on modern art, you can do this, Daria,” he continued, unphased by her grouchiness.

Heaving an ambivalent sigh, she listened to their persistent encouragement. Then, with one final huff of obstinacy, she stood from the table and marched up to the stage. She flipped them off behind her head as they gave hoots of satisfaction and Leo set the keyboard up at the front of the stage, with the stool and microphone.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she whispered to Leo.

He gave a nod, humoring her. “Yes, I fear you.”

“Well,” she said sardonically, sitting down and watching as he descended the stairs. “In a minute, you’ll pity me. I did not inherit my mother’s talent!”

She felt her heart expand when she saw Chris give Leo a congratulatory kiss before they settled into their seats next to each other. Then, she rolled her eyes at herself for not sticking to her ill will, and dropped her eyes to the keys. They were shiny white and black, newer but less charming than the piano at Miss Patty’s. Her fingers were poised over the keys, and she swallowed dryly, remembering. She’d couldn’t quite place when the last time she’d played had been.

Glancing up nervously, biting the inside of her cheek, she caught Jess’s eye. He threw her another wink and she let out a scoff at him. The longer she sat up there, the more her heart slowed. She straightened her back, felt herself regaining the old position. Resisting the urge to tug anxiously at her earring, she flipped for a moment through her mental catalogue. Then, she cleared her throat and let a small, wicked grin cross her lips.

“Fine. But this is your funeral, everyone,” she quipped. “This song is dedicated to Chris, who is fucking wrong about Joni Mitchell.”

A final, slight shake of her head and she launched into “Blue.” Her fingers were rusty and creaky, but the song flowed out of her as though she had just learned it. She couldn’t sing nearly as high as was necessary for an exact recreation, but she was getting at more of a tuned down interpretation. Her voice was raspy, and Jess was never surprised how much she identified with Stevie Nicks. Though recently, there had been more Amy Winehouse spinning on the turntable. And Ella knew she could never sound remotely like Amy Winehouse.

The stage light was whitish and soft, and Jess could feel his heart do a skip at the sight of her. She wasn’t the greatest musical talent, but it wasn’t pure talent which made her breathtaking to him. It was the way her eyes shut and her voice lilted with emotion. How she lit up so wholly when she played. And how fearless she had always been, putting herself out there with not a care in the world for what others thought of her. No stage fright, only perfectionism holding her back. She was only ever completely herself, perhaps what he admired most about her. His intrepid artist, with dimples and green flecks in her eyes and messy hair and a fashion sense not quite like anyone else. Warmth filled his heart and his body and his mind, and he could only watch her with a tiny smirk on his face. And he had never felt so sure of anything before.

.   .   .

The cap of the red pen was clamped between her teeth, her back against the wall, Nietzche staring overhead. Suppressing a yawn, she placed brackets around a paragraph she liked particularly well. Her first read-through of the new book had taken almost no time at all, as she devoured Jess’s prose fervently. She’d suggested some revisions, added some comments, without being asked. Jess insisted she didn’t have to do that work for him, especially not for free, but she told him she simply enjoyed it. It reminded her of the days when they wrote notes to each other in borrowed texts, those which ended up sitting in a shared pile, all mixed together, in their bedroom. And he had only smiled in response. Once again, it had shocked him how invested she could be in art. Not that he would ever call his writing ‘art,’ especially how much he despised his first novel upon rereading. But Ella asked for the second draft once he had revised, offering her critical eye, if he wanted it. He did, of course. And she was nearly done. There were noticeable improvements, and several new sections. It was coming together before her eyes, and sometimes she wanted to tear up out of pride.

Breeze seeped in through the draughty window, and she tugged the blanket up over herself a little more. Her impromptu performance at the bar, which ended with her flustered in the wake of everyone’s compliments even though she was aware she was nothing compared to Leo, had left her jittery and awake. Even after the presentation at school. Not exactly anxious, but charged with pseudo energy. She was only riding it until the crash. Jess wasn’t snoring yet, and she knew he wasn’t asleep, but dozing. Midnight had already passed into the early morning, and the rain was picking up again, pounding on the roof above them. Every so often, Ella looked precariously up at the water spot near the bedroom door.

Sighing faintly, she turned the page, more semi-stream-of-consciousness insights after a perspective shift. She had to commend him on his recent experimentation. She hadn’t expected it. Her face softened as she read the next paragraph, a new addition to the draft. It was through the eyes of the main character as he watched a woman paint a mural on a nondescript city street.

Racing, racing, racing of his heart, beating against his ribs like footsteps at the sight of the woman. Eyes from bottom to top, from battered shoes to patterned skirt and button-up shirt, protected by a dirty, threadbare apron. Strangers, he thought, strangers everywhere with separate stories to tell, unaware of his thoughts or his feelings or his words or his face. She looked like she belonged, despite her complete uniquity. He couldn’t imagine looking so established in any place, so uniform in unconformity. He wondered who she was painting it for, the ghostly figure surrounded by dead flowers and trash, a vision of the post-industrial American wasteland. Not many people were likely to see it under the bridge, which looked like where teenagers would come to smash light bulbs and kiss each other with teeth clashing together and sweat out their last bit of rebellion. He wondered who had assigned her the location, if she had chosen it herself, if she was painting only for herself.

The intensity in her eyes told him she could have been, green pools of vigor and concentration as he approached, boots rhythmic on the cracked sidewalk. A tragedy, he thought suddenly, staring at her near-finished creation, she was painting a tragedy and she knew it. She could feel it. He saw it not so much in her form as in the eyes of the ghost in the painting, hollow and desolate, with a single jewel of color in the middle. The rest of the piece was only in shades of gray, a hopelessness exacerbated by more small, foolish hope. He almost laughed under his breath, instead allowing his eyes to fall back on her as he passed around her, leaving considerable space between them. He didn’t want to interfere, break her focus, not that she looked as though she could ever be shaken by anything. Their eyes locked for only a moment, as she stepped back to regard her work. She didn’t smile, she didn’t frown, she only saw. She saw, and then she was out of sight again. And another story was behind him.

Smirking slightly as she read, she capped the pen again once she had finished. And she placed the manuscript on the bedside table neatly next to her. She switched off the last lamp and settled down into the sheets. Jess breathed deeply, stirring at her movements. She turned over on one side to face him, their noses only inches apart.

“Jess?” she asked.

“Hm?” he hummed, eyes cracking open.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m getting there,” he shrugged, though they both knew it wasn’t exactly the truth.

Ella nodded. “Well, I got to the part where he sees the woman painting the mural. And I have to say, I think I recognize the influences.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Maybe James Joyce wasn’t completely incoherent. It wasn’t serious, though. It was meant to be making fun of his adolescent emotionality, like Stephen in Portrait.”

“Ah, I think I’ve officially converted you,” she said, her smile growing wider.

“I think you’re speaking too soon,” he replied.

“Agree to disagree.” Her tone was light and sincere as she continued, though her smile shrank. “Did you really love me when you first saw me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it, Chatty Kathy?” she asked, eyebrows raised in annoyance.

Jess sighed. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to understand it,” she said, studying his face with narrowed eyes. If he knew the section she had just read, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. Besides, she had been wondering for a while. How someone who had been bitten by the world so many times could still believe something so romantic. In a way, she was envious, and in another way, she was scared for him. “Why did you tell me it was that day in the gazebo?”

He paused for a long moment, running his hand over his mouth. She could see his grandfather’s necklace peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt and glinting in the moonlight, which streamed through the window. He barely ever took it off.

“Well, first of all, I knew there was no chance you’d run away with me if you thought I was crazy enough to believe in love at first sight,” he explained slowly, trying to ignore the embarrassed squirming in his stomach. “I was trying not to scare you off. Shocking, I know, considering what a Romeo and Juliet stunt I was pulling.”

“He could’ve just waited to drink the poison,” she agreed, earning her a chuckle.

“And, at the time,” he continued, growing a bit more confident in his articulation, “I wasn’t even sure. For a long time, I couldn’t figure out when I fell in love with you. Eventually, I realized the reason was because I had been in love with you the entire time.”

She hummed, her brows furrowing inquisitively. “I just can’t imagine it.”

“Which is why the amount of poetry you read will never make sense,” he said. Then, after a moment more of gathering his thoughts: “And it’s not the same kind of love. It’s still love, but it’s not the same as what I felt after I got to know you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Breathing out a long breath, Jess searched again for the right phrases.

“I don’t know, Stevens,” he admitted, biting down on his lip for a moment. “Maybe it’s more like I knew I would love you. I saw you, and I knew I loved you before I knew why I loved you. Now, I know why.”

She nodded earnestly against her pillow, damp hair smelling of lavender. “Curiouser and curiouser, Mariano.”

“Not to the Hemingway fans among us,” he said.

“Well, Hemingway fans are the biggest romantics. It’s a universal law,” she replied, voice growing heavier with fatigue. Finally, it seemed, the rush of the night was wearing off, replaced by a tranquil ease she hadn’t expected. Spring break was long overdue.

“So I’ve heard,” he replied fondly. “I told you the first time we met, y’know.”

“What?”

“That I loved you.”

She furrowed her brows suspiciously, a smirk tugging at one corner of her lips. “I think I would’ve remembered that.”

“Well, I didn’t say it in so many words.” Jess’s eyes twinkled with teasing, and she scoffed.

“You did not.”

“Yes, I certainly did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Daria.”

Her face lost its brevity as she saw he was, in fact, serious, despite how cocky he sounded. Playing the memory over in her mind, she was hit was nostalgia and confusion. Humming Stevie Nicks, spilling salt, empty threats, cleaning tables with Jess following behind her, never losing his wiseass remarks or his sarcastic grin. Then, after a moment, it hit her. As you wish. She had hardly noticed it at the time. Only a reference, leading to their first argument over movies versus books. The words Wesley had spoken to Buttercup in The Princess Bride as a way of saying 'I love you.' She never even considered its meaning.

She let out a breathy, surprised chuckle. Meeting his eyes again, she shoved his shoulder playfully and flipped onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, noticing the water spot again. The raindrops pattered a steady beat. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow and tilting his head at her in amused askance.

“Jesus. That is so...sweet and wonderful. And fucking cheesy. Makes me sick,” she said, though she grinned through her words. She sighed and shook her head slightly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she giggled again. “I don’t know whether to murder you or marry you.”

His breath caught in his throat for a second, but he regained his composure before she opened her eyes again and smiled up at him. “Well, maybe meet me in the middle and let’s get our own apartment?”

“Really?” she asked. So much information was flying at her, she didn’t know which thread to latch onto. And, unbeknownst to Jess, she was fighting the lump in her throat. She may have been a realist, but she wasn’t heartless. And she wondered how long she would be able to hold off the tears that threatened to spill over. A deep, aching love spread throughout her. It almost made her dizzy with joy. As you wish, he had said. It played over in her head suddenly, as though she had just heard it.

“Yeah,” he said, averting his gaze hesitantly. “It doesn’t have to be right away. There’ll probably be more leases in the summer once all the students go home. But I thought...maybe we’d have room for a keyboard or something. An easel, too. And we could stop hearing Chris and Matthew argue over which place has the best burritos at three in the morning. What do you think?”

“We could get an actual shelf for all your books,” she said, holding her smile.

“Yeah. You could organize them whatever way, if you want.” Jess tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke, then leaving his hand to rest on her cheek. “Or, I could do it. There is a method to my madness, y’know.”

“Okay, I’ll definitely need a couple months to decide whether to do color coordination or alphabetical order, then,” she said.

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll take some time. But...you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do, James Dean,” she whispered softly. She placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, and brought him in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled against her, nerves calming and body relaxing with her touch.

As they broke apart, he laid back down on his side, drawing her closer to him with an arm over her waist.

“I love you, Mariano,” she said, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you back, Stevens,” he replied, thinking he may not be able to handle the pleasant butterflies erupting in his middle.

She breathed in contentedly. “And your new book is the next Great American Novel.”

“I doubt the New York Times will think so.”

“Well, I do,” she said simply. “You’re the fucking best.”

“It’s been said,” he quipped, finally shutting his own eyes. Their words had turned to murmurs, cozy and soft beneath the sound of the rain.

“But, I especially love how humble you are,” she added, yawning against the back of her hand.

“Right back at ya,” he deadpanned.

Snorting a laugh, Ella shifted so she was flush against him, warm in the cold room. And, by the time the sun rose through the breaking clouds, the rain had stopped completely.

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano x oc fanfiction #jess mariano x original character fanfiction #oc #jess x original character #jess x oc #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #jess mariano au #gilmore girls imagines #jess mariano imagines #gilmore girls xoc fanfiction #original character #original character fanfiction

[jesslivesau]

jess au @iloveeverythingwaytoomuch

pre show jess: doesn't know anything except that sam told her some fucked up shit and she didn't really believe him much like amelia didn't believe jimmy but what's clear to her is that sam's upbringing was deeply fucked up in what might've been some kind of apocalypse doomsday cult and she can say "sam, it wasn't real" as much as she can til she's blue in the face but it isn't going to change the fact that sam is Deeply Fucked Up by Shit. and it upsets her and confuses her but he does a good job of setting it aside or knowing when to give in and he's such a sweet and Loving Dude otherwise so she just files it away in her bf trauma bank and keeps cheering him on

s1 jess: your bf's CRAZY brother shows up says he needs help finding your bf's CRAZY dad who may or may not have been part of a doomsday cult and you say, bitch i watched the heaven's gate documentary there is NO WAY i'm letting you leave with him, but he's not gonna Stay cuz he insists it's just for one night (and his brother DOES seem relatively stable, like, as a person), so jess insists she'll go too. while she's in the back seat sam tells dean he told her everything dean's like lol. sure. you believe in ghosts, sweetheart? and jess is like no but i do believe that i'll kick your ass if we don't get home in time for sam's interview tomorrow morning. and then the whole white woman thing happens and she's like oh fuck it's REAL but they DO GO HOME and instead of jess dying on the ceiling there's like idk ghost mary on the ceiling or some shit and they NARROWLY escape the fire together andddd idk they can't go back to stanford cuz it's not safe and their apartment complex literally went up in flames. there’s a more complex reason here but idk what it is. maybe it was brady (demon brady) who died or something IDK LISTEN ITS JUST AN AU

anyway all of season 1 when they’re trying to track down john jess is the voice of reason asking why do they need john in the first place? And eventually sam is like listen we don’t need HIM but if he’s got research on where yellow eyes is, that’s what we need. and dean is mad about that and he’s mad at jess and they bicker like crazy. and sam sleeps on the floor because dean is like dude cmon. don’t make me sleep in the same room as you and your gf together. maybe meg gets replaced by meg possessing jess, and she doesn’t get thrown out the window so when they exorcise her she just needs a hospital and then she’ll be ok. and that would explain why she’s in the hospital and not there for the finale, but can meet up with sam & john & dean in the hospital after

s2 jess: sam is so consumed by grief and fear that jess is actually the first one to notice that dean’s spirit might still be still Around. i’m imagining a scene where sam is asleep next to dean’s bed and jess is awake, and she slowly looks around towards dean and you see ghost!dean Connecting with her for the first time

obviously, all the grief episodes keep happening. maybe jess got seriously hurt as well tbh so she goes back to her parents house to recover; there’s an episode where the boys go meet her parents and dean and sam’s Daddy Issues come out in full force. eventually jess is back and kicking ass and slowly getting along more with dean, partially perhaps because of dean’s Grief Response to john’s death, which is that all the anger and hate comes bubbling up, and jess is like i don’t fucking know this dude, but from what sam’s told me, i hate him, which is not something that sam is in a position to Deal With right now. things proceed pretty much along the course

i am considering now if jess could also be a special child. she also has some kind of psychic abilities but i’d have to choose something cool for her. anyway if she IS then that gets her in the town with sam in all hell breaks loose which i think is the best place for her during that arc? i know all the other special children supposedly had to die but maybe her psychic power was to go inviisble or something lmfao i don’t fucking know. anyway dean has his sad monologue but jess either (a) fully shuts down or (b) just goes STRAIGHT to hunt down whatever the fuck his name is. jake? leverage man? that would be dope actually. and then actually dean, sam, bobby, and ellen actually meet her at the hell’s gate

s3 jess: truly does not understand why they’re hunting. gets into arguments with the boys all the time about how this is pointless, if you’re not gonna try and save yourself then why can’t you just put it down and let yourself have this year?? and dean’s a little bit like you know what jessica that makes a lot of damn sense. but it makes sam mad and they argue a lot about it and jess probably takes off halfway through the season. maybe after malleus maleficarum? partly cuz that’s the ep where ruby more or less becomes part of the team and also when she confirms that she can’t save dean from hell. and i just feel like jess would be like i cannot.... Sit Here.... and watch you both drive yourself into the ground. dean, if you’re gonna die, sam’s coming after you. you knew that. you just didn’t want him to go first.

maybe dean hits her lmfao and sam screams at him for it and jess just Walks Away, tearfully

s4 jess: so jess bailed midway through s3, but when dean wakes up and starts making calls in that phonebooth, he calls bobby and bobby hangs up, so he calls jess. and she comes and gets him.

jess and sam are obviously not together anymore, but jess is totally civil with sam and even with ruby. she’s like we can work together, it’s fine, whatever. and this is the season where dean and jess really bond and become a good Team. and cas is just usually confused why jess is Around but eventually gets used to her. i’ve toyed with jess being jewish which would lend a good and also funny perspective to all the heaven and hell stuff

jess heard about hell first from dean, but not the specifics of the stuff that dean told sam, not until after on the head of a pin. she’s their Lore Expert on seals and is trying to identify as many of them as possible so they can put in place safeguards, and maybe that bumps her up against angel priorities for an episode. maybe we get an episode where cas has to Threaten her 00 and he can say something like sam and dean are important..... you are not. remember that. and then [flappy wings vanish]

uhhhh jess’s siren in the siren episode....... is just like a carbon copy of sam lmfao. which is extremely funny and sam and jess will both kind of awkwardly clear their throats and not address that. i guess jess is just fucking stuck with bobby during the finale because the point of her presence is that she’s so USELESS to both demons and angels

s5 jess:  i’d probably add in an early episode where her parents are killed, probably by demons because the demons know they can’t touch the winchesters due to angel shit but they can fuck up jess as much as they want. then when sam and dean temporarily split up jess would go with dean cuz she’s a hunter now and has nowhere else to go and it doesn’t feel right to just sit around with sam. or maybe she also leaves and splits up and doesn’t stick with dean cuz she’s processing her own traumatic shit. at any rate, early in the season there’s a moment where sam is Gone and dean and jess are drinking together and talking about their feelings and they have a moment where they gaze at each other in the eyes and almost lean towards each other.... then jess goes you know what? this is fucking weird and dean is like oh thank god you said that absolutely this is too weird

in The End, it’s revealed that jess was killed and no one will tell dean more information or talk about her until he finds out that she was pregnant when she was killed (presumably with sammifer’s baby)

in changing channels they get put into a telenovela and sam and jess have an tearful emotionally charged confession scene in spanish. this is about when sam and jess finally get back together [cue cheering]

in the chuck eps it’s revealed chuck rewrote it so that jess died on the ceiling in the first book cuz he was like “i just didn’t think it made sense for her to be alive! it was literary symmetry that’s all!”

in sam, interrupted when sam is all high on meds that’s when he says lots of kooky sweet shit to jess about wanting to MARRY her and have a FAMILY together and it’s sweet and also dean throws up in his mouth a little bit having to hear it

in my bloody valentine the thing that jess is hungry for is Family but i do not know the logistics of how

in dark side of the moon jess does die with the boys but it takes a while to find her, tho they eventually do in one of sam’s favorite memories (probably from the first time they met or something). she’s like what the fuck i’m jewish

no, i have no clue how she factors into swan song. she just does, ok. lucifer can snap her neck along with bobby’s

s6 jess: she tried to check in with dean occasionally at the braedens, and actually had dinner with them once but started checking in less and less as the year went on, and it turns out she knew that sam was back and she’d been hunting with him + the campbells and a couple things

when dean finds out he is truly FURIOUS, but jess is like dean i saw you with lisa and ben! i saw you getting better! i saw you happy, i saw you ok, and hell i’ve only known you since you showed up in palo alto five years ago but it was the most at peace i’ve ever seen you, and i couldn’t take that away from you, and neither could sam.

she’s also like yes, dean, he’s different, he’s colder, it makes me sad but who was the one who put up with YOU when you were spiralling after your dad’s death? or when you were all buttoned up after you came back from hell? he did! so show him a god damn OUNCE of empathy, would you!

and when they find out he’s soulless jess is like. hm. and dean is like i TOLD you there was something wrong with him!!! and jess is like i mean.... yeah....... and maybe i didn’t really want to admit it... cuz.... the sex was So good.........

[soulless sam winks at her]

anyway, s6 happens the way it happens and that’s fine

s7: the only important thing that happens in s7 is that Season Seven, It’s Time For a Wedding! is actually about some sort of monster and the only way to kill it is to cast a spell but the spell must be cast by “two warriors joined before god” which means married and cas is awkward about it cuz he doesn’t want to Presume Anything 

and the whole episode is lots of sam and jess being like “i mean, of course, if you want to..... .like, but if you DON’T, that’s also totally fine, of course.... you know.... whatever you’re comfortable with” until finally they’re in the final battle and cas has to marry them the way barbossa does for will and elizabeth in potc and when dean is pinned against the wall by the monster he goes “DAMMIT JESS WILL YOU KISS MY BROTHER ALREADY” and then sam dips jess in a kiss and the monster is instantly obliterated [heart eyes]

i truly genuinely do not remember anything that happens in s7. anyway jess and sam are married now

s8: sam was with jess the whole year dean was in purgatory. they were struggling to get back to normal life after everything. dean is still fucking mad that sam didn’t go looking for him. i assume everything else goes pretty much according to whatever the fuck happened in s8 except jess at one point has to go to bat for benny cuz sam for some reason hates him so much

i’ve been toying with the idea of jess doing the trials not sam but i mean how can i take that away from my Boy

s9: i do not know anything that happened in this season ):

s10: see above

s11: see above

s12: now i never watched s12, but in this au there is no lucifer’s son jack. instead jess gets pregnant midway through the season; cas finds out first because he can sense it and he’s like why does it feel like there’s an extra being in the bunker, and then he spills to dean cuz he can’t keep a secret, and then dean is like “oh shit what are you gonna do” and jess is like well!!!! sam and i.... talked about this. we were.....open to the possibility. and dean is like wtf how could u possibly bring a child into this world that’s fucked up adn cas is like [wipes tear] that’s beautiful

anyway when they come back from some kind of hunt (probably something that involved claire) and sam and jess are in the bunker, sam goes “jess, seeing claire, seeing jody and the girls.... it makes me think.... i wanna have a family with you” and jess hugs him and then cas walks into the bunker with dean and is like “oh, have you told him about the baby?” and everyone SCREAMS at him

and cas uses his annual miracle allowance to just reverse time about 30 seconds so when he enters the bunker he just goes “i have nothing to say” and Fucking Leaves

the baby is born in the back of the impala in the s12 finale, on the way to the hospital. dean is devastated. he’ll have to reupholster the WHOLE THING. sam accidentally names the baby john but they don’t want to tell dean that so they decide to call him jack.

s13-15 gets to be mostly about how cute it is to have a wittle baby in the bunker. cas is the best babysitter because he loves babies and is very powerful so he can protect him. the occultum nonsense in s15 can be about finding a Safe Place for baby jack, no matter what happens to the rest of the world. sam tells jess, you go with him, you’ll be safe there. dean tells sam, you go with them, you’ll be safe there. all of that good good cute family stuff. was it the best idea to have a baby in the middle of constant apocalypses? maybe not, but like, they are ALWAYS in constant apocalypses, so at some point you just have to bite the bullet

anyway. please clap

#au

[ksfd89]

Happy Father’s Day

A Father’s Day oneshot written a few months late! Literati oneshot which turned out much longer than I imagined!

"Daddy!"

Jess groans as a toddler weight thumps onto his chest. "Hey, Charlotte. You're up bright and early, huh?"

Rory's laughter as is cut short as her daughter notices her and, leaning forward, bellows, "Mommy!"

"Wow, hi," Rory says, ears ringing from Charlotte's greeting. "And this is without coffee. You sure you're my daughter?"

Charlotte frowns at her and Rory chuckles, giving her a cuddle. "Good morning, angel."

"I bet it's all the coffee you drank when you were pregnant," Jess remarks. "Hardwired in her genes."

"You say it like it's a bad thing," Rory retorts, pulling herself up onto her elbows. "Speaking of coffee, I need some."

"Really?" Jess says in mock-surprise. "I guess I should go put a pot on, right?"

"Make it a vat," Rory says seriously. Jess laughs and laughs again as Charlotte yells, "Breakfast!"

"Such a one-track mind," Jess says, kissing Charlotte's cheek. "Wonder where you get it from."

Charlotte response is to yell, "Breakfast!" again. Jess carries Charlotte into the kitchen and Rory forces herself to sit up, groaning. It's a Saturday morning and she was hoping to lie in. Charlotte had a hard time getting to sleep last night so Rory had hoped, rather fruitlessly, that her daughter would wake up a little later. Charlotte is two years old with curly brown hair and big blue eyes. She is already insatiable with curiosity, pulling books of the shelves in the apartment Rory and Jess share. The fact that she can't read doesn't seem to stop Charlotte. Jess boasts that she's a bookworm already.

Rory quickly checks her phone before getting up. There's nothing new on there apart from a reminder to take Charlotte into town. Father's Day is tomorrow and Rory has a gift to collect. Putting the phone back on the bedside table, Rory gets up with a yawn and pads into the kitchen where Charlotte is perched on the counter, giggling at Jess making French toast.

"Careful on there, missy," Rory says as Charlotte stretches out for the food and Jess says, "Hey, she's fine, I'm watching her. Coffee's coming right up too."

"Juice!" Charlotte shouts and Jess nods, sounding weary as he says, "And your juice. Very important order, I know, kiddo."

"I'll get it," Rory says, going to the fridge. "And it's juice please, Charlotte."

"JUICE PEES!"" Charlotte shouts and Jess starts laughing. Rory tries to keep a straight face but can't help giggling.

"Here you go," she says, pouring orange juice into a brightly coloured cup and handing it to Charlotte who drinks it in one gulp. Jess turns the toast over in the pan, whistling under his breath and Rory kisses his shoulder, making him smile. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Rory sips it and gradually wakes up, a content happiness flowing through her. She's lived in Philadelphia for two years now and worked at the local paper for almost the same amount of time. Jess is still at Truncheon and Charlotte divides her time either at home with Rory, where she mostly writes her articles, the newspaper office or the bookstore with Jess. After new books are unpacked Charlotte gets to play with the empty boxes. One day Jess pretended not to know where she was, lifting the box with her inside and saying where's my girl gone? Charlotte had giggled so hard it was difficult to act surprised when she stuck her head out. Rory still can't believe her tiny baby is a little girl now, almost out of diapers and holding conversation. Granted, most of her topics centre on bellowing nursery rhymes or demanding juice, but still. Charlotte turned two a few weeks ago. Rory had thought she wanted those milestones but had wept when they occurred. She doesn't even want to think about Charlotte starting Kindergarten.

Sliding toast onto plates, Jess carries breakfast over to the table and slips his hands under Charlotte's armpits. She lets out a indignant squawk but is happy once she's at the table, tucking into toast and getting a good deal of food in her hair. Rory wrinkles her nose in a sigh.

"She'll need a bath," she whispers to Jess, already dreading it. Charlotte can't stand bathtime. Rory was already feeling tired at the trip to the store, but shakes her head as Jess offers, "You sure you don't want me to come to the store?"

"I told you it's for a surprise!"

"Right, right," Jess says, smiling into his cup of coffee. "I can't imagine what it's for."

"No more questions, Dodger."

Jess lifts his hands up and turns to Charlotte. "Do you know what this is about?"

"Hey, no questioning the kid!"

"I think your secret's safe," Jess says, wincing as Charlotte shouts, "JUICE! JUICE PEES!" into his ear. "Okay, okay. One more cup of juice and then it's bathtime."

"NOOO!"

Charlotte continues to scream all through her bath and Jess wipes a haggard hand across his brow. "I thought girls were supposed to like showers."

"A bath is a whole different vibe," Rory teases, pouring water over Charlotte's back. "We're almost done, sweetie."

"Thanks," Jess jokes, sticking his tongue out and Rory laughs.

"You've got soap on your face."

"It's a new look I'm trying. See Charlotte, it's not so bad!"

Charlotte continues to cry until after she's dry and dressed in a blue dress. She sucks her thumb, glaring at her parents who try not to laugh.

"Come on cutie," Rory says. "Let's have some girltime!"

Girltime doesn't seem to thrill Charlotte. She grumbles in her carseat, on the edge of a tantrum which threatens to break when they reach the store. Keeping a firm grip on her hand Rory starts to lead her inside, already regretting not choosing online delivery. Charlotte pulls at her mother's hand, stamping her feet and Rory takes a deep breath, stopping and bending down.

"We have to pick up Daddy's gift," she says evenly. "Then we can do something fun, okay? Come on."

"NO!" Charlotte screams, spittle spattering her mother's face. Rory closes her eyes, trying to compose herself, and they snap open as a man's voice says, "Rory?"

"Logan?" Rory says in disbelief. This can't be happening. Logan lives in London. He is an ocean away. He last saw Charlotte six months ago when he came over for Christmas and Rory hasn't heard any hint of a visit. Slowly, she straightens up, holding tightly onto Charlotte's hand. Logan smiles at her.

"Hey, Ace."

"What are you doing here?" Rory asks faintly. Logan is dressed in a smart white shirt and black pants and he says, "Flew out to New York for some work yesterday. I was going to call but I thought I'd surprise you."

"Surprise me," Rory echoes faintly. She seems to have lost power of thought and Logan adds, "I was going to call today, I mean. Not just show up - I didn't know you'd be in town today."

"We're getting a Father's Day gift," Rory says and then inwardly winces. Logan looks a little surprised but simply nods. Rory bends down, lifting Charlotte up and Logan breaks into a smile.

"Hey Charlotte. Remember me?"

Charlotte doesn't. She buries her face in Rory's shoulder and Rory says gently, "It's okay, honey," and to Logan, "It's been a long time since she saw you. For her, I mean."

"I know," Logan says quietly. "Hey, you want to get some coffee?"

Rory bites her lip but nods. Somewhat in shock, she follows Logan into a cafe and makes an excuse to use the bathroom. Carrying Charlotte inside, Rory stares at herself in the mirror and tries to steady herself. She looks a total mess. There are splatters of juice and crumbs on her shirt from the snack Charlotte had before they left and, of course, the spit from her daughter screaming as Logan approached. Impeccable timing. Rory washes her face, Charlotte watching curiously, and quickly calls Jess.

"Hey," he says fondly. "How's girltime going?"

"Not so great," Rory says honestly. "Logan showed up."

There's a pause and then Jess says, "What?"

"He's here, he's just here," Rory babbles. "He's working in New York and he's here and wants to have coffee. What do I do?"

"I don't know, Rory. Do you want to have coffee with him?"

"No - but I'm curious to talk to him, I guess."

"Then maybe you should have coffee."

"I'm nervous, I don't know - this feels so weird."

"It is weird," Jess says honestly. "But he's just that rich guy with a porsche. You don't need to feel nervous."

Rory smiles at that. "I'll see you later, okay? I love you."

"I love you too. Kiss Charlotte for me."

"I will." Rory hangs up, kissing Charlotte's cheek and taking her back into the cafe. Logan is sitting in a corner and Rory tries to smile as she goes over.

"Hey," she says again and Logan says, "I went ahead and ordered coffee for you."

"Oh - thanks." Rory feels mildly affronted, though she can't place why, and Logan asks, "I'm guessing she's still too young for coffee, right?" and nods at Charlotte. Rory laughs, settling Charlotte onto the chair next to her and says, "Yup. Maybe a few more years."

"She's two," Logan says in wonder. "How can she be two?"

"I don't know," Rory says quietly. It only seems like yesterday that Charlotte was born, that Rory found out she was pregnant, yet that time she shared with Logan feels like a different life. Rory can't believe that was just a few years ago in reality. Her daughter stares up at them and Logan remarks, "She looks just like you."

"She does," Rory says fondly. She doesn't add that Charlotte looks nothing like Logan. With her wild curls, people often assume Jess is her biological father. In every other way he is her father. He held Rory's hand when she gave birth, loved Charlotte as fiercely as if she had always been his. Really, Rory thinks, she has been. Jess loved Charlotte as soon as Rory told him she was pregnant. The waitress comes over with their drinks and Logan says, "I wasn't sure if Charlotte would want anything."

"She'll have a cup of juice," Rory says and is tired as Charlotte shouts, "JUICE PEES!"

"Yes, sweets," Rory says, stroking her hair. "You're having some juice."

Logan chuckles and asks, "So how was her birthday?"

"Good. Big."

It had been a Stars Hollow extravaganza. Lorelai had turned the house into an explosion of pink streamers and fairy lights and the cake was almost as big as Charlotte herself. Charlotte idea of eating cake was to bury her whole face in it and Rory was finding buttercream in her hair for a good two days afterwards.

"Did you get my gift?" Logan asks and Rory nods. Logan had sent over a rocking horse several sizes too big and when Rory lifted Charlotte onto it she'd screamed in terror. Lorelai commented that Charlotte got Rory's knack for horseriding, but had shut up when Rory reminded her the pony she'd ridden had died. Rory sips her coffee and says delicately, "She's a little small for it," when Logan asks if she liked her present.

"Oh," he says, shoulders sagging and Rory feels bad.

"Hey, she's only two. Still refining her taste."

"I got her this," Logan says, delving into his pocket and emerges with a small bracelet. It's beautiful but all Rory can think is that it's a complete choking hazard. Logan lifts it to the light and says, "See, Charlotte? That's for you!"

Charlotte stares at him and Logan asks, "Can I hold her?"

"Okay," Rory says after hesitating. She takes the bracelet and passes Charlotte over to Logan. He holds her awkwardly but his expression is gentle.

"Hey, Charlotte. I missed you."

Charlotte starts whimpering, reaching for Rory and Logan says, "Hey, it's okay. It's me."

Charlotte starts howling in earnest and just as Rory gets up to take her back the waitress comes over with the juice.

"JUICE PEES!"

Charlotte seems to mean this in the literal sense. Rory picks her up and Charlotte wets herself. Pee trickles down onto the floor, leaking from her diaper onto Rory and Logan's arms, and Logan can't hide his expression of revulsion.

"I'm sorry," Rory says. "She's not there with potty training yet and..."

"Right," Logan says, wiping at himself with a napkin. "No big deal."

He tries to smile and Rory is sure he's remembering the time Charlotte got puke and poop on him as a baby.

"Sorry," Rory says awkwardly and Logan says, "It's fine. Guess it was dumb, seeing you here like this. Charlotte can't even remember me."

"She's so little," Rory says and Logan's voice fades as he says, "But I'm her - forget it."

"Logan. You live an entire country away. Sending her gifts and showing up at Christmas isn't being a father."

"I know. I just - I'm sorry it turned out like this."

Rory doesn't know what to say. She isn't sorry things turned out this way, not for her and Jess at least. But she is sorry Logan doesn't seem to care more.  He loves Charlotte but is hesitant over fatherhood.

"I hope she likes the bracelet. Maybe someday I'll know her better," he says and Rory nods.

"Maybe. I'd better get her changed."

"Juice pees!" Charlotte says again and, as Rory and Logan look at her, she takes one sip of juice before pouring the rest over her head. Logan smiles but makes a hasty retreat. Dazed, Rory focuses on cleaning Charlotte as best she can before taking her home and, it's only when Charlotte is screaming in her second bath of the day that Rory remembers she forgot to pick up the gift.

Rory cries a little in the shower herself and is still upset when she tells Jess about it.

"It was so awkward," she sniffles. "And sort of sad, and I forgot to pick up your gift."

"I'll get it."

"You can't - it's your gift."

"Rory, it's no big deal."

"Yes it is. And Charlotte peed on Logan and -"

"She what?" Jess asks, starting to laugh and Rory smiles. It is kind of funny now she thinks about it. Logan had looked so startled.

"Charlotte had an accident and dumped juice over her head."

"Big day, huh, kid?" Jess asks. Charlotte is playing with some bricks and breaks into giggles as Jess picks her up. "Daddy!" she shouts happily and Rory laughs out loud.

"I'm going to go get your gift."

Rory drives to the store without mishap and, when she gets back, Jess has already made dinner. After eating Rory wraps his gift, shooing Jess out of the room and gets up early the next morning to retrieve it. Charlotte is already awake and squeals happily at the sight of her mother.

"Come on, angel," Rory says. She picks up the gift, gives it to Charlotte and plops her onto the bed. Jess opens his eyes just as she shouts, "DADDY!"

"That's Charlotte's way of saying Happy Father's Day," Rory tells him and Jess creases his eyes with laughter.

"Thank you," he says, kissing her and opens his gift. It's a photobook of him, Rory and Charlotte and Jess's voice is a little misty as he repeats, "Thank you. It's perfect."

"Thank you for being her dad," Rory says seriously and Jess pulls her to him.

"I'm the luckiest guy alive."

Rory kisses him and then, to her bemusement, Jess gets out of bed and picks up Charlotte.

"Wait right there."

"Okay," Rory says, confused. "What's going on?"

"Just wait!"

Jess disappears and re-emerges with a book tied in ribbon.

"What's this?" Rory demands, taking it. "I don't get gifts today!"

"Yes you do. Just open it."

"Okay," Rory says quizzically. She unties the ribbon to see a copy of Howl and, as she opens it, a ring falls out. Rory's mouth hangs open and Jess says, "Rory, will you marry me? I've known you since I was seventeen and I knew it then."

It's not just any copy of Howl. It's Rory's copy, with Jess's notes in the margins and Rory traces her fingers over them.

"You knew we'd wind up here?" Rory asks, her voice catching on a sob, and Jess says firmly, "I knew I wanted to be with you - love you. I didn't know I'd wind up raising a daughter with you but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love Charlotte, I love our family. I love our life. And I love you so much, Rory."

"Marry Daddy!" Charlotte shouts. "Marry Daddy!"

"I taught her to say that but I don't think she knows what it means," Jess admits and Rory starts laughing.

"It doesn't matter," she says, pulling Jess into her arms. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. I love you, Jess Mariano."

"I love you too, Rory Gilmore."

They kiss and kiss, laughing as they break apart and finally Rory turns to Charlotte.

"I'm marrying Daddy," she tells her. "What do you think about that?"

Charlotte unpops her thumb from her mouth and says happily, "JUICE PEES!"

#Gilmore Girls #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati #mine #this wound up a lot longer than I planned

[watchingspn-blog]

spn rewatch | the woman in white (pilot)

Okay so I can safely say I’ve seen the pilot episode at least half a dozen times, if not more. I got season one on DVD for my 14th birthday (which I 100% binged with my BFF at the time to the point where we were beyond exhausted for my actual birthday festivities the next day) and would watch over and over in the days before Netflix. So for me the first couple of seasons are way more familiar to me than the later seasons. Especially since at some point after I started college when I didn’t have as easy access to television and streaming services weren’t quite what they are today I fell off the bandwagon. Pretty much everything I know about the show from mid-season eight onwards comes from gif sets on Tumblr and the occasional Facebook posts. Which brings me to this rewatch/first time viewing. 

It’s easily been at least three or four years since I’ve watched the pilot but it’s still so familiar to me which I feel like says a lot for the show. Or just says that I was way too obsessed with this show as a teenager. But anyway, here we go.

First of all, I don’t know about anyone else but I’m honestly a little weirded out by seeing JDM looking younger and not having a beard. Like it’s strange to me and I don’t know how to feel about it and I’m glad this is the only scene where he looks like this. The beard does him wonders in all walks of life and I’m glad it’s a look he’s stuck with in just about everything he’s in these days. (Also you can totally see one of JDM’s tattoos under the sleeve of his t-shirt and it just makes me want to headcanon John with a couple tattoos from his time in the service despite looking so clean cut when they have the flashbacks with Matt Cohen.)

Secondly, I want to know when they came up with the backstory that Mary was a hunter and came from a family of hunters and that she’d been in that life before she settled down with John. Because I feel like if that backstory had been mapped out before the pilot her reactions when she woke up to the baby monitor would be more suspicious. But that could also be me just being too picky. Like it’s totally valid that Mary, just waking up didn’t pick up on the static or the flickering lights. I just want to know if they’d had her history in mind when this started or if that came up later once they’d developed the story and characters more. 

Okay, so I don’t have any major attachments to Jess, mainly because we just don’t spend enough time with her. She’s got a whole three (?) scenes where she’s mostly delegated to the supportive girlfriend who’s also over-sexualized. Like they seriously chose to introduce a female character and have all of her outfits be revealing to the point where other characters are commenting on it before killing her. Like I have no issues with female characters wearing whatever the fuck they want, there’s nothing wrong with that. But it wasn’t given any more depth than “here’s this sexual object for our audience to look at” and that’s what bugs me. But I am glad that they showed her being genuinely concerned when Sam is packing like wanting to make sure he’s okay and make sure he’s not doing something reckless for people who’ve actively avoided being in his life over the last few years. She’s incredibly supportive of Sam and it makes me happy that he had that in his life even if I do hate that it was taken away in a horribly gruesome way.

Adrianne Palicki is just ridiculously talented and deserves way more recognition than she’s gotten over the years. 

Now, I’m gonna be real. I was a Dean girl from the get go. I loved me a smartass bad boy when I was thirteen and I was head over heels for Jensen Ackles from the first time I saw this show (probably because I’d never seen him anything else before but I already knew Jared as Dean from Gilmore Girls who wasn’t my favorite as a middle schooler). It also probably doesn’t hurt that I saw an episode of season two as my first intro to the show instead of the pilot. Because honestly, watching his first scene as a 26 year old, he doesn’t come off in the best light. Between breaking into Sam’s apartment, their whole tussle in the dark living room, and then him hitting on Jess right in front of Sam, he’s kind of an ass. Which yes, Dean is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. All of these characters are fucked up, especially after fourteen seasons and counting. But this just doesn’t line up with how Dean is in the rest of season one even, I feel like. 

Like Dean telling Jess that she’s way out of Sam’s league is one thing. I expect nothing less from him. But then him just being creepy and ogling her is just uncomfortable to watch now. 

Also the lighting budget for the entire first season is just horrendous. It’s like they wanted to show that they were scary and edgy but really it just meant I couldn’t make out what was happening in any scene that didn’t take place in broad daylight. 

Okay, on to the spooks. Having a woman in white for the first MOTW (monster of the week) was kind of cool to me because it was something I actually knew about before the show, thanks to reading any and every book on ghosts my school library had to offer. And Sarah Shahi is super gorgeous. Like hot damn. And as cheesy as some of the effects are in the earlier episodes, I actually like the way that she kind of flickers in and out along the side of the road as Troy’s driving up and then the way you don’t actually see her in the passenger seat when it shows her getting in. None of the effects are too crazy over the top (at least not until the very end of the episode when she finally goes home and has that weird as fuck death scene with her creepy kids) and it works.

As a thirteen year old, I thought it was totally believable that Sam and Dean could be US marshals and the local cops were just being jerks. As a twenty-six year old, the idea that those two could pass as any kind of law enforcement other than like maybe a couple of rookie cops is ridiculous. I’m the same age that Dean was at the start of the show and I’ve got people assuming I’m still in high school. I couldn’t get past the crime scene tape for anything. But I guess if you’re confident enough and tall enough, anything’s possible. Also as if they didn’t already look hella conspicuous, they act like a couple of five year olds with all their stomping and smacking, like no wonder the cops were suspicious. 

Also can we take a moment to appreciate the awesome mid-2000s goth look Amy and her friend are rocking? Because it’s fantastic and I’m here for it. Also kudos to them for being the only women to make it to the end of the episode alive. 

I never really thought about it when I was younger but it’s not surprising that Sam isn’t as gung ho about hunting down the demon that killed Mary like John and Dean are. His memories of Mary are entirely built on stories and pictures and not from anything he actually remembers himself. And like it’s totally valid for him to want to get away from the hunter lifestyle and follow a different path instead of just killing monsters and running credit card scams for the rest of his life. 

All I can think about when they break into the room John was renting is that gif of Charlie from Always Sunny with all the papers and strings on the walls. 

One of the better aspects of Supernatural, in my opinion, are the actors they get to randomly guest star on the show. And not necessarily big names (although those can be fun) but like the ones that you’ve never seen anywhere else. Because the guy who plays Joseph Welch is fantastic in his one scene on screen. There’s so much emotion there as he’s talking about a clearly sensitive subject and being able to show the grief and also some of the guilt over being unfaithful. It’s a fantastic scene so like major shoutout to Steve Railsback for being awesome.

The whole showdown with Constance’s ghost is kind of like mediocre compared to future fights. Like it’s a pretty quick scene and the effects once they actually get her to the house to face her creepy children are kind of the worst. Like they used their whole special effects budget doing that flickering thing in her first scene and had to settle for this instead. Also like yes they stopped her and she won’t be able to kidnap and kill skeezy men in the future but like I feel kind of bad for Amy and Troy’s family because they’re just left with zero closure whatsoever. Like I never thought about it but there are a lot of people over the years where it’s like yes we stopped the monster but those families never actually know what happened to their loved ones. 

Okay, I get that it’s supposed to be a serious, intense scene, and the first time I saw it - yes it was shocking and heartbreaking and terrifying but the effects for Jess’s appearance on the ceiling are just bad. She doesn’t look like a person, she looks like a mannequin. And I’m still annoyed that they brought her in and showed how much her and Sam loved and cared for each other only to kill her horribly at the end of the episode. It’s just frustrating. And honestly this should’ve warned all of us that pretty much no female character is safe on this show. None of them. 

The “we’ve got work to do” at the end is still hella iconic. Like there’s a couple of lines that still give me that little excitement I got when I first watched it and that’s one of them. I love it. 

BODY COUNT: 3 humans (Mary Winchester, Troy Squire, Jessica Moore), 1 ghost (Constance Welch - do her kids count too? They didn’t really show up until was time for Constance to like melt into the floor all creepy like)

RATING: 7/10 - the effects are kind of garbage and there’s some stuff that hasn’t aged well but I still think this is one of the better pilots I’ve seen as far as getting you hooked into the story and characters. 

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural rewatch #watchingspn #idk if anyone's going to read this but if you do thank you #and if you want to talk about the show pls hit me up #i'd love to talk with others about it #spnrewatch*

[saltytothecore]

Hello~ If you're still taking requests, imagine Hanzo getting injured seriously enough to be confined to bed rest, but not badly enough that he's unconscious for most of his recovery. Who gets to deal with cranky Hanzo who hates to sit still and waste waking moments? (also thank you for being such an amazing author! ❤️ love your writing!)

I’m always technically taking requests, that’s what the open ask box is for c; Hopefully this suits!

“Not. A. Word,” Hanzo says.

“I didn’t say a thing, baby.”

“You’re thinking it.”

Jesse clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Hewas, in fact, just thinking it. He absolutely, unequivocally told him so. He knowshe doesn’t need to say it again, that’d be out of line. Hanzo’s already havinga pretty shit day.

Hanzo has the look of a cat someone stuffed in a wet sackand shook. He’s been wearing variations of that expression since Doc told himhe was going to be stuck in bed for at least a week while she cycled him on thebiotics.  As if that was something she’ddecided in a fit of pique instead of a pretty favorable outcome for being shot,falling off a roof, and getting a compound leg fracture.

If only they made something that could absorb the force fromsmall caliber rounds. Maybe some kind of reinforced vest, covering the vitalorgans. It’s a crazy idea, honestly, practically insane when the option ofdodging bullets in your shirt sleeves in on the table.

Oh wait, they definitely make something like that. In Hanzo’ssize even. But Jesse already told him that.

“I absolutely could use crutches,” Hanzo mutters.

Jesse hums noncommittally. He’s not getting Hanzo crutches,because he agrees with Doc. This is why he’s the one sitting beside, because he’simmune to Hanzo’s bad moods and insistence on getting his way. Also the wholeloving him to death thing, Genji’s very unappreciated remarks about in sickness and in health aside. Genji justdidn’t want to sit in here and listen to Hanzo bitch, and the shiny metalbastard always has known how to skate like a motherfucker.

***

“All right, what’re you schemin’?”

Jesse lets his phone drop into his lap. He can hear Hanzo thinking, and he’s sure they’renot peaceful, healing thoughts.

“If I could get a wheelchair, and then perhaps some kind ofcart, I could keep my leg elevated and –”

“I’m gonna stop you there, because you’ll pull yer stitchestryin’ to move a wheel chair.”

“Not necessarily.”

Jesse rolls his eyes.

“Okay, here’s yer problem. You ain’t ever had to police callshit. There’s a magic to sittin’ aroundon yer ass I don’t think yer gettin’ the full effect of.”

“Police call?” Hanzo says with the same timbre he uses whenGenji and Jesse conduct conversations mostly in acronym and he doesn’tcomprehend but also doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t comprehend.

“Y’know, pickin’ the cigarette butts off of the parkin’ lotsand shit. Workin’ party bullshit.”

Hanzo stares at him as if he’d never heard of busy workbefore.

“There was a time I’d’ve paid good money to sit on my assfor a week, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

“If you say so,” Hanzo says, just the tiniest bitsuspicious. That’s Jesse’s own fault he supposes; he compulsively exaggeratessome of his stories for effect.

Hanzo really does look miserable. He must be in pain—he’salways a bit gun shy of painkillers and Jesse hasn’t seen him hit the button onthe morphine box once—and he’s not mastered the art of being bored, not havingspent any time in a militaristic organization. Jesse can’t imagine the yakuzaare big on hurry-up-and-wait.

“All right.” Jesse slaps his knees. “C’mon, we got time. Youwanna watch somethin’? Read somethin’? I can get Genji, we can tell him he’swrong about that Half-Life 3 remake again.”

Hanzo’s lips quirk up.

“He knows he’s wrong,” Hanzo says offhand, a little haughty.There’s Jesse’s baby. “I had a started a book, but I left it in your bunk.”

“Say no more.” Jesse gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back.Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do.”

“If you insist.”

***

Jesse shoots Genji the dirtiest conceivable look, because Hanzois sleeping and not trying to talkJesse into bringing him his equipment so he can clean it (because it’s alreadyas clean as it can get, Jesse did it himself while Hanzo was in surgery), andif Genji wakes him up Jesse will get a goddamned can opener and skin him.

He communicates this very effectively with just his eyebrowsand the set of his mouth, and Genji holds his hands up in the universal sign ofokay, buddy, my bad.

Blackwatch had adopted the American military hand signalsfor silent communication, and while the vocabulary is limited, it’s enough incombination with more civilian gesturing for Genji to ask how Hanzo is doing andJesse to answer.

He’s as well as can be expected. Stir crazy as all hell, butthat’s a given. It’s better than dead. Jesse glances over at him. It was a badbreak, and if he thinks about it too much it will drive him crazy. Hanzo is herenow, and that’s what matters.  (He’d havebeen better off if he’d worn thegoddamned vest but what’s the use in arguing that now?)

When Jesse looks back at his friend, the look on Genji’s face is undecipherable. Genji shakes his head and backs out of the room.

***

The millisecond Doc had given Hanzo the all clear he’d beenback on his feet. Jesse had been hovering at his elbow since then, inferring immediatelythat he was still on duty to keep Hanzo from overdoing it. Hanzo had gone straightfor the exit, getting himself into the fresh air as soon has he’d gotten out ofthe gown.

It’s an overcast day, but Hanzo still seems content just soakingup the daylight. At least he didn’t try to dive right back into his damnedparkour, is instead content to simply stand on a balcony.

“If I knew this was all you were gonna do, I’d have movedthe bed and opened a window,” Jesse says.

Hanzo stiffens, just a bit. It takes a minutes for him tospeak.

“I don’t like being idle. Being useless.”

Jesse gently, verygently, bumps his hip into Hanzo’s.

“Y’ain’t useless,you were hurt. We all get hurt. I’m just glad you got better.”

Hanzo leans into him. Maybe he’s trying to favor hisrecently healed leg, maybe he just wanted to. Jesse doesn’t mind either way.

“Thank you,” Hanzo murmurs.

Jesse drapes an arm over Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Of course, darlin’.”

#mchanzo #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada #overwatch #fic #Anonymous

[ecotone99]

[MF] 60 seconds

60 seconds

Chapter 1

I hate my life. How did I even get here? I don’t think I’ve done too bad for myself. I finished school, attempted college, found the love of my life and I have a beautiful daughter Holly. Yet here I am, sitting alone in my empty flat, laid in bed, alone, beer in hand. I don’t think I’m a bad guy, I didn’t deserve to be cheated on and that fucking snidey bitch twisted everything and now Holly wants NOTHING to do with me. I miss her so much.

I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, I don’t want to go to work. It’s not that I don’t enjoy work, I mean, sure, it takes my mind off the bullshit that's gone off, and my boss isn’t a bad boss, he’s actually pretty understanding and accommodating of my situation. He does sometimes just flip the fuck out for no reason, and I get the brunt of his attitude, but he takes the brunt of mine when I’m having a bad day, and I’ve not been fired, yet. He’s a bit of a snob though I guess, typical wine tasting, 6 holidays a year taking, Mercedes owning, golf player who lives in a mansion while the people he pays live in council flats. Yeah he’s a dick too. Fuck that guy.

I’m currently on just above minimum wage at a stupid call centre, I work inbound accepting or rejecting loans. It pays well I guess, but not well enough for my bitch of an ex wife to stay interested in me. To be fair, I can barely stay interested in me anymore, I’m such a fucking loser since she stole my Holly away from me.

I’ve resorted to reading conspiracy theories on the internet. Sometimes I just get lost in other worlds, in alternate realities, cause Lord knows any life would be better than the one I’m living. I think the only issue with that hobby is that I’m getting super paranoid, that on top of the surplus amounts of alcohol I’ve been consuming on a daily basis. I’m SURE I’m being watched, listened to, followed. I’ve turned all location services off on my phone, my blinds stay closed, my webcam and phone camera are all taped up.

I was reading this one thing about some guy, Stephen Mulberry or something that’s trying to take over and monitor the world via CCTV. It’s a pretty convincing read, you should look it up. If it’s true, the guys are a total creep and I’m glad I have my cameras covered. The theory is probably not even worth listening to, it’s the most unrealistic rumour going around, no matter how interesting of a read it is.

Right, nearly 1pm, I’m up in 5 hours, I need to go to bloody work again. I hate the night shift, sleeping in the day is HARD. Who wants a loan at night anyway? Same old work, home, drink, sleep, work, home, drink, sleep. My life is a goddamn mess. I need this to end. It’s not like I’ll be missed.

SIXTY

What the ACTUAL FUCK?

FIFTY NINE

Is that coming from my speaker?

FIFTY EIGHT

I’m sure the TV isn’t on?

FIFTY SEVEN

It’s not new years is it?

FIFTY SIX

My head can’t be that fucked up

FIFTY FIVE

I’m sure it’s March..

FIFTY FOUR

What’s going ON???

FIFTY THREE

Am I hallucinating again?

FIFTY TWO

I need to call an ambulance, I’m clearly not well.

FIFTY ONE

I miss you Holly.

Chapter 2

Ah, Full English, again. 2nd of the day. Delightful. I’d say that Brenda is the best maid I’ve had this year, she’s a little old but at least she’s English and she can cook Full English breakfasts a hell of a lot better than that young tart Jessica could. I’m not going to beat around the bush, Jess was a treat to the eye, but that’s not my main focus right now. She was a shit maid, couldn’t clean for shit, no idea how she even got into this line of work! I need a clean house, a spotless house!

My little girl cannot possibly suffer any more than she already is and a dusty house is no condition for a child with lung cancer. She’s too young, my poor baby Emily. I’m putting every penny I have into the best treatment for her, I’m working my arse off for her, she NEEDS to be okay, she can’t NOT be okay,

I’m so damn stressed, I constantly snap at work and my dumb employee’s have no idea what’s going on and just call me all the names under the sun. I don’t care, they can call me whatever they like as long as they’re earning me money to help my poor precious Emily.

Sometimes I wish it was me with the cancer, I’d handle that a million times better than seeing my baby girl suffer. I do look after her when I can though, I take her away with me. Me, my wife Anabelle and our daughter, we go everywhere. I want to show them the world, I want to give them the world, I need her to be happy. I’m going to level with you, I know my money is useless and I can’t possibly get better treatment than what is already being provided, but I don’t care. I’ll keep working, and pushing my lazy workers until Emily has seen every last inch of this gorgeous planet we live on. Fuck, I’d send her to the moon if I had the funds and that’s what she wanted.

She doesn’t want that though, she wants a normal life at school with her friends. Her dumb friends who don’t understand how serious her condition is. The girls are constantly leaving her out and no boy her age wants a girlfriend who can’t run in a field with them at playtime. She shouldn’t even be at school, but she wants it, so she gets it. I’d say out of the whole school there’s one girl I trust, one girl who GETS my Emily, but her mother is a scrounging little bitch who I can’t fucking stand to be quite honest with you. She scoffs at ME for taking Emily on “too many holidays”. I know what’s best for my daughter, not some good for nothing, benefit system abusing little filthy woman.

I need to calm the fuck down. I seriously am way too stressed. I can’t let Emily see me getting upset. I’ve tried this new app that has calming and meditation techniques. I personally think it’s bullshit, but I’ll give anything a try to keep Emily happy. The best thing I’ve tried so far is to close my eyes, inhale as much as my lungs will possibly intake, and count down from 10 slowly while I exhale and for every second, I have to think of one thing I’m grateful for. I just spend the whole 10 seconds imagining I’m holding Emily. That ALWAYS works for me.

FIFTY

No, I start from 10

FORTY NINE

What?

FORTY EIGHT

That can’t be brenda?

FORTY SEVEN

Her phone isn’t that loud is it?

FORTY SIX

Is her phone ringing?

FORTY FIVE

Hang on, is Emily playing hide and seek?

FORTY FOUR

Who the fuck is she playing with? She doesn’t have the lung capacity to be running around playing childish games and I’ve specifically kept her off school today.

FORTY THREE

EMILY?!

FORTY TWO

CAN YOU HEAR ME BABY? STOP PLAYING SO LOUD YOU’LL WEAR YOURSELF OUT

FORTY ONE

EMILY!!!!! She’ll listen to me one day.

Chapter 3

I’m bored. Nobody here likes me and my best friend isn’t here today. I don’t understand any of this work and I don’t get why we have to learn about boring Vikings anyway. It’s not like they’re coming back. I can’t wait for playtime, and I’m hungry. I always get left out, and nobody wants to play the games I want to play so I just have to sit around and play on my own. It’s so unfair, my best friend gets loads of days off and I’m stuck here EVERYDAY.

My mum never lets me have a day off, and she never lets me have any presents. She’s rubbish too. I want to go round to my best friend's house. She gets EVERYTHING she wants. She says it's because her daddy loves her so much. I wish I knew what that was like. I don’t even know who my daddy is, I’m just stuck at home with my boring rubbish mum who always shouts at me. She never has time for me and I don’t know why. Kids at school say my mum is on benefits like it's an insult, but if she is, when why is she never at home? I think she works too hard. She’s never here for me.

She always makes time for Charlie though, which is so unfair. He gets “coo’d” all day, and played with, I just get told to go to my room and practice my reading. I’m more cleverer than everyone in my class anyway, I don’t need to practice reading.

When my big sister comes home from Uni, it’s better, she’s fun. I miss her so much. She’s going to be a teacher one day, but I wish she was a teacher now because then maybe I’d have someone on my side, not just teachers sticking up for the other kids because they “didn’t see anyone hit me”.

URGHHHH I’m sooooo bored. Vikings had cool helmets but that’s about it, the rest of it is boooring! I can’t wait for play time, I wonder how many minutes are left. I love timing things, and counting things. It takes me 3007 steps to walk to school, all of my favourite books have 60 pages in, I can fit 3 cheerios on my spoon at a time, and I get upset if there’s 1 or 2 left at the end of my bowl instead of an even 3. Playtime MUST be soon, I bet there’s at least 3 minutes, that's 60 seconds 3 times.

FORTY

No, we start at 180 seconds, not 60

THIRTY NINE

Wrong again

THIRTY EIGHT

Am I really thinking this loud?

THIRTY SEVEN

Hang on.. That’s not in my head

THIRTY SIX

Is it?

THIRTY FIVE

I can’t concentrate, I’ll start again, 60, 59..

THIRTY FOUR

URGH STOP COUNTING SO LOUD YOU’RE PUTTING ME OFF

THIRTY THREE

I just want to eat my snack and play on the monkey bars.

THIRTY ONE

WE START AT 180, NOT SIXTY.

Chapter 4

Oh my sweet baby boy what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Mummies here. I’ve got you. I can’t pick you up sweetheart, mummy is shopping! Aww you’re so cute, coochy coochy coo! Being a mum to 3 kids is Hard. Fucking. Work.

My eldest is away at uni right now so she’s out of the way thank god. No wait. I don’t mean that in a bad way, she’s doing great and I’m so proud of her! It’s just, I’m just always so busy and my younger two are such a damn handful. My second child, Olivia is such an attention seeker. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to bits but I always have my hands full with this gorgeous little boy. It’s not like I can leave him on his own, but she can play by herself in her room while I’m doing other things at least.

I want to give her the time and attention she needs but it’s hard on my own. Her so-called “father” fucked off soon as she turned 3 months, apparently he thought having a child was like having a free trial that he could end any time because I’ve not seen, heard from, or had a penny off him since.

Despite what everyone thinks, I’m working three jobs at the minute to keep the family afloat, and I’ve just applied for a fourth, which hopefully will be full time and then I could drop 2 jobs. I’d love that, it’d give me more time with Olivia. The ONLY downside is the place I’ve applied for, is run by a posh twat I can’t stand. I only heard about it through the school mum's grapevine, I don’t think he’d like me working there, but apparently the hours and pay are great.

I’ve had to use a false name on my CV because Olivia is his kids best friend, and I don’t want him recognising my name and turning down the chance of an interview based off of my name, and reputation, not my customer service phone call skills. I mean, it’s not like they’re perfect anyway, and I feel like if I did get the job, when he realised who I was he might treat me a little worse than other staff members, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had a shit tonne of bullshit hurled my way and I’m still here, still alive, still living off noodles and beans so my kids can have a good life.

I’m fucking trying okay. So what I have to shop at Primark. I wish kids didn’t grow so fucking fast, I’m not going to buy branded clothes for them to grow out of in a week. I can’t afford to give them everything but I’m trying. Don’t judge me. I hate Primark, the quality is okay but the tills always take forever because their queues are so damn long, how are they even this busy mid afternoon? And that stupid robotic voice! “Till number…..”

THIRTY

Thirty? I didn't know there were 30 tills??

TWENTY NINE

Christ, it’s moving fast than I thought, maybe primark isn’t so bad

TWENTY EIGHT

One second to serve someone? Why can’t it always be like this.

TWENTY SEVEN

Hang on, the lines not moving.

TWENTY SIX

Is this a customer service announcement?

TWENTY FIVE

It’s not closing time already, surely?

TWENTY FOUR

Or is this a test?

TWENTY THREE

Did they see the pants I put in my bag?

TWENTY TWO

Surely not. I’m just trying to save a quid or two, Jesus Christ these speakers are so invasive!

TWENTY ONE

FINE FINE I’LL PAY FOR THE DAMN PANTS!

Chapter 5

Today is the day. I’ve got to start being honest with people or everyones just going to get hurt. But holy shit I’m so screwed. I mean, it’s not like it’s something I didn’t want, but it’s so not the right time. I’m graduating next year, or suppose to be, but how can I do that with a little one? My mum will kill me if I drop out, but I can’t not keep this little love bundle.

Who shall I tell first? My mum or my boyfriend. Fuck it. I’ve brought him out tonight, I’ve paid for his meal cinema ticket, I’ll tell him after the movie. That’ll soften the blow, right? I mean, I took him to his favourite place, which in my opinion is SEVERELY overrated and over priced, and now we’re watching this new stupid superhero film I’ve no interest in. Maybe he’ll suspect something is up, I’m not usually this nice. Not that I’m usually a bitch but I’m a hard person to be around if I don’t get my own way.

I just hope he takes the news well and doesn’t fuck off like my dad did, because I’m not getting rid of this little one, even if I have to do this alone, my mum copes okay, and I’ll have her to help, and a degree behind me so I should be fine, right?

Anyway, I need to not think about this right now, I need to concentrate on this stupid film, maybe if a pay attention to it, James will see I’m willing to put more effort into how he feels, and he’ll be more empathtic about my situation? Maybe? Do guys even think like that? I literally have no clue. I hope so!

Urgh, why do adverts have to go on for so long? I booked this film to start at half 12, it’s now almost 1pm and we’re not even past the stupid ads yet. Why not put the film start time as the ACTUAL time it starts, not just some random amount of time before and waste everyones time with dumb adverts. All that means is that James will probably see more dumb superhero films he’ll want to come see, and then he’s blackmail me into seeing them so he doesn’t leave me alone to bring up our child. Fuck, I started thinking about the kid again. Stop it Laura.

TWENTY

Does it usually get this dark at the Cinema?

NINTEEN

Ooh they have countdowns now, that’s fancy.

EIGHTEEN

Did they really have to start at 60?

SEVENTEEN

How did I not notice before? Must be baby brain, ignoring my surroundings

SIXTEEN

Maybe I can make use of that and ignore this stupid film.

FIFTEEN

Okay okay, I get it, let's just start the film.

FOURTEEN

I wonder if its a boy or a girl

THIRTEEN

Damnit Laura, stop the baby thoughts, maybe just focus on the film, okay?

TWELVE

Hurry up and get it started already!

ELEVEN

I fucking love you James, I hope you never leave us.

Chapter 6

I’m sick of everyone. My mums a good for nothing drug abusing filthy whore, my dads an alcoholic sleazebag who just uses me as his punchbag, then wonders why I never leave my room. And friends? What fucking friends? I’m sick of this shit. Nobody fucking listens to me.

There’s been ONE person, one fucking person in my entire life that’s been civil with me, and she goes out with a fucking idiot who’s a lazy good for nothing preppy twat. She fucking idolisies him. I’d give her the world if she’d pay me any proper attention. I asked her out once, but she said no because she’s not from around here and when she goes home for the holidays it would be too hard. But apparently that’s not a problem for James, he’s so good looking it doesn’t matter how far away they are, she’ll always love him.

Why can’t I find that same devotion? Why can’t I have that same respect. I’ll tell you why. Because I have no power, I have no authority, I’m “too good of a friend to lose by being in a relationship with”. Okay, treat me like a fucking friend then. Stop mocking me behind my back.

I’ll shut you up. I’ll fucking do it. I don’t care. You wanna hit me again Tom? Fine, hit me, I don’t care, when this world is over I’ll be the one laughing. I’ve been watching you all anyway. Every. Last. One of you. I see you cheating, and sleeping, and eating, and working, and soon I’ll take care of every last idiot that crossed my path and did me wrong. You’ll see. You’ll all see. You can't disrespect me when you’re dead. I’m too fucking clever for you.

I’ve been working on a worldwide monitoring system I can hear all, and see all.. All I have to do is press one fucking button and that’s it, everything in the world shuts off after a 60 second countdown played through every speaker in the world. No power, and the eventual blow out of electricity build up will cause worldwide electrical fires, and kill everyone.. I’m still trying to figure out how to get cars to stop but I’ll get there.

That will be wonderful to watch, watch everyone and everything crash and burn! I just need to find a way to get all the twats in my life who’ve wronged me on life support, then when I’m ready, I’ll pull the plug on all of them at once, not only will all their organs fail at once, but they’ll burn too. That will show them to disrespect me!

You know what. I can’t stand this, I hate my life. I’m going to do it tonight. I’ve had enough of being the runt of the litter. The brunt of the jokes. The punching bag. I’m doing it now. No stop it. You’ve had too much to drink. You can’t do this. Stop. Think. Rationalise. . It probably won’t work anyway, the software isn’t tested. Of course it isn’t tested you idiot if you test it, the world burns. You’re so damn stupid. No wonder everyone hates you.

Just go to bed. Sleep it off. Things might be better tomorrow. Tell you what. Get this bottle in the bin and tomorrow will be a good day. Miss, and, well.. You can try again the next day I suppose. Ready? Aim and….

NO NOT THERE

shit.

SHIT.

What have I done?

Not there.

Fuck.

Abort.

ABORT!

I DON'T WANT TO DIE.

I’M NOT FUCKING READY.

I’M SUCH AN IDIOT.

I HOPE THIS DOESN’T WORK.

Okay, stay calm, maybe you can reverse this.

What if I?

No that won't work?

I can’t concentrate.

TEN

Shit no wait

NINE

Stop!

EIGHT

Turn the fuck off!

SEVEN

I don’t want to go!

SIX

I love you mum.

FIVE

Just give me one more fucking minute!

FOUR

Come on think think think this must be reversible

THREE

You’re a fucking idiot Stephen Mulberry.

TWO

I’m fucking sorry okay?

ONE.

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