#like we know brady was a demon for a while but what about the rest of his friends

[torturedpoetemotions]

This is literally so random I'm so sorry. But what if in the French mistake when Sam and Dean are acting terribly trying to film spn- which I cringe at because it could've been funnier if Jared wasn't just fucking around as Jared to be funny haha and really stayed in character as Sam- What If Sam just. Acted totally normal as Sam. Like totally aced it from our audience perspective. And the director was still like "This is absolute horse shit wtf is this guy doing??" I. It made me laugh I'm sorry

No anon you're onto something this would have been 10x funnier AND more in character IMO given Sam spent four years more or less convincingly larping as a normal college student and regularly cosplays as a people person with manners, tact, and emotional intelligence (which we know via Soulless Sam do NOT come naturally and are a constant struggle that takes up a TON of his time and energy). His performances are so convincing he believes them himself! Sam being bad at acting was OOC tbh.

Actually now I'm thinking. I wish we'd gotten more Stanford Sam because was he convincing as a normal college student? We assume so but we never really see it! What if he wasn't? What if he was a ginormous freak and the only reason he walked around for four years thinking he was getting an A in being Just Some Guy (something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve) was because his friends were all equally freaks in their own ways???

Much to think about.

#like we know brady was a demon for a while but what about the rest of his friends #omfg what if they were all supernatural in some way #and they met this twitchy underfed weirdo with poor social skills who never talked about his family and went #'oh that there is a hunter's kid if i ever saw one...he's got that look about him' #and they watched him from a distance for a while until they were sure he wasn't there on a hunt #and then they were like...ah fuck it we're adopting him #anyway sorry nonny this got away from me!! #supernatural #the french mistake #sam studies #sam winchester #ask box #anonymous

[seasononesam]

i actually love that as far as we all know, sams time at stanford had no significant impact on the rest of his life. like there’s no interpersonal drama that still haunts him or Moments. they do flashbacks to before college that were obviously affecting but none related to college itself …. do u like to think that his experience was just so banal and ordinary and quiet or that big shit happened but he never brings it up

I wish we learned more about it on the show, besides the occasional throw away reference. I think his time at stanford is something sam would see as very "normal" at the moment, but look back on with some concern, particularly in regards to the fact he found out brady was possessed by a demon. I think there's a good chance azazel was pulling a lot of strings behind the scenes while sam was at college, and it's just another way his autonomy and ability to make his own choices were violated. also I think there was probably a lot of stuff he just never told dean, like internal struggles he had or his relationship with jessica if that makes sense? it is kind of interesting just from a stand point of what the writers chose to include in the show that we never saw a flashback to the stanford era iirc, while we got plenty of flashbacks to sam and dean's childhood.

#answered #anonymous #it's all about the negative space...or whatever

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Disagreement” - Paul Lahote x Reader

Request: “Okay this might be stupid but it’s been in my head a really long time & I don’t write so I was wondering if you could do a Paul angst where his imprint is bellas sister & she chooses to stay by her when pregnant while of course they want to kill her? Too much?? 😂” 

A/N: I hope you enjoy what I did with this, I tried to make it a little less intense because I still find the situation so weird in breaking dawn ya know? also i’m off my game now that i’m going through a depressive episode once again so i hope what i gave you is at least a little enjoyable haha

“You have to what?” I blink, staring at Paul with wide eyes. 

“Sam says-” Paul tries but I cut him off. 

“You have to kill my sister, because Sam says?” I yell. 

“(Y/N), you know I have to listen, it’s out of my control.” 

“Paul, that is my sister. You’re talking about my sister and my niece or nephew. You’re talking about killing my family. How do you think I could be okay with this?” I seethe. 

“Baby, I know. But that baby isn’t a baby, it’s a demon.”

“No, we don’t know that. It’s a baby, Paul. I can’t believe you think I’ll be okay with this. As much as I’m not that fond of her, I can’t let you guys kill her.” I hiss. 

“I don’t want to do this, but I don’t have a choice. Alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want to or not.” His teary eyes bored into mine. 

“Well, then don’t expect me to stay by and watch. I’m leaving, you’re free to come with but I’m not letting you do it.” I push past him, walking to our front door. 

“(Y/N), baby, please... You know I have to stay.” He pleads. 

“Well then I have to leave. And if you kill my sister and unborn niece or nephew or whatever it’ll be, don’t expect me to come back.” I slam the door shut, stomping my way over to my car. I started it, speeding out of there.

I soon found myself at the Cullen’s home, only to be met with an apprehensive Jacob, Leah, and Seth. Edward and Rosalie peered out the window at me. 

“I’m not here to cause any issues. I’m not here for Paul or Sam, I left. We had a disagreement.” I hold my hands up in surrender. 

“So are you and Paul okay?” Seth asks, looking at me with sad eyes.

“No, not if he tries to kill my sister and unborn family.” I huff, holding my tears back. 

“Well, we’re glad to have you around.” Jacob gives me a soft smile. 

I nod and make my way over to Leah, placing my head on her shoulder. 

The last few days without her, one of my best friends, was very difficult. I wasn’t told why they left exactly, but after Paul told me Sam’s plan, I was thankful for their support. 

“Thank you.” I murmur. 

“Couldn’t let Seth go off on his own.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder. 

“I know.” I smirk, knowing she hated Bella more than anyone else. 

Couldn’t necessarily blame her, though. 

“Are you okay?” Seth asks. 

“No. But I’ll be fine.” I smile sadly. “Can I see her?” 

Jacob looks over to the window, looking at Edward. Edward nods his head, causing Jacob’s gaze to fall back onto me. 

“Yeah, come on.” He nods, leading me into the massive house. 

I follow Jake, feeling all eyes on me. I then saw Bella sitting on the couch, a blanket covering her. 

“Hey.” She weakly smiles. 

“Hey, Bella. Long time no see.” I smirk, walking over. 

“I know, just... prepare yourself.” 

“For what?” I raise an eyebrow. 

But then I notice her face, all sunken in and hollow. Dark circles overtook her face, she looked like a walking corpse. 

“Rose.” She looks to see the blonde woman, holding out her hand. 

Rosalie walks over and helped her stand up. Bella’s state was absolutely astonishing. I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping my lips when I noticed her seemingly malnourished frame stand up. She was skin and bones, except for her protruding belly, it was bigger than the rest of her. 

“Wow.” I exhale, trying to look her in the eye. 

“Yeah.” She smiles awkwardly. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course, I can’t sit back and let something happen to you.” I return her gesture. 

The next few days were unbearable. I was watching my sister die in front of my very eyes, adamant on having this child. Her husband torn with the outcomes of this situation, everyone was on edge. Jacob was having such a difficult time watching her die, it was simply a lot.

The tension in the house was unsettling. Everyone was so conflicted with the pregnancy, but ultimately it was Bella’s decision. A decision that none of us would be able to sway. I had a feeling this wouldn’t end well, but I was suffering more and more, as the bond between Paul and I was leaving me in severe pain.

I was ignoring his calls, his texts pleading me to come back to the reservation. My ignoring him didn’t get much done, eventually I just shut my phone off. It was too much, I was in too much pain. 

Emotionally, I was falling apart. Being apart from him was not only damaging me emotionally, it was causing me physical pain. I felt like my chest was on fire. 

I was growing sicker by the day, suffering without Paul. This bond really complicated already complicated situations. 

As I sat on the steps with Leah, Jake, and Seth, they perked up at the sound of rustling in the trees. 

“Why are they here?” Leah asks. 

“I don’t know.” Seth shrugs. 

They all began to stand up, and I followed behind. To my surprise, I saw Jared, Collin, and Brady walking out of the treeline. 

Brady looked at me, noticing my exhausted face. He stared a little too much.

“What are you guys here for?” Jake asks. 

“Sam sent us. We’re here to give you a final opportunity, a final warning.” Jared says with a stern face. 

“We’re not coming back.” Seth says deliberately. 

After some less than pleasant conversation, the trio left hastily. 

“Weird choice of who to send.” Seth tilted his head. 

“I thought it was weird, too. I thought he’d send Paul, Embry, and Quil.” I shrug. 

“No, he doesn’t trust they’d stay loyal to him. He knows they’d join us.” Leah purses her lips. 

“You’re right.” Jacob agrees. 

“Brady was checking in on you, it looked like. Paul might’ve told him to.” Leah says. 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

Sleeping was difficult, once again. I was seemingly falling apart at the seams. It was breaking my heart that Paul was on Sam’s side. It broke my heart to know that the love of my life was betraying me and my wishes. I understand that he can’t disobey Sam and leave his pack, but Jake, Seth, and Leah left to do what was right. 

I was tossing and turning in my bed, but I had heard a bit of rustling outside of my window, followed by voices. 

I got up, looking out the window to see Jake, Seth, Leah, and Edward talking to Embry, Quil, and Paul. 

I felt my stomach drop as I heard Paul yell at Jake. 

“I need to see her! It’s not about Sam anymore.” He hisses. 

I heard the rest of them talking, though it was too quiet for me to hear. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the fuming figure standing in front of Jacob. Almost fighting him to get to me. 

Until our eyes met. I watched as his face softened and a small smile appeared on his place. He looked at me before looking back to Edward, pushing through everyone to get through into the house. 

Everyone watched as he entered the house, looking up at me with a soft smile. 

I turned around as I heard hurried footsteps approach the room I was staying in. The door burst open and I saw an exhausted looking Paul, the bags under his eyes matched mine.  

“I missed you so much, baby.” Paul whispers, hurrying over to hold my face in my hands. 

“Paul... I can’t do this if you’re here to kill my sister.” 

“If I was here to kill your sister, do you think I would’ve been let into the house? I’m here for you. I left Sam’s pack. The three of us did, he doesn’t know yet.” He rushes. 

I grabbed him, pulling him closer to me. I pressed my lips against his, hungrily. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him. I felt the warmth of his body pressed against my own. 

“He won’t do anything with most of the pack leaving. He can’t do it with all of us gone. I know it.” He whispers, pulling me close. 

“Good.” 

The next few days were easier, though we still worried about an ambush from Sam’s pack. 

Bella was growing increasingly ill, but Jacob’s snarky thought found us a solution. She needed to drink blood. It was absolutely nauseating, but it really seemed to help. 

Paul’s presence made things easier for me, but it was still gruesome. It was difficult and tensions only rose as the days went past. 

Though, Paul was right. Sam’s pack was outnumbered and when they showed up, they realized they weren’t fit to get to Bella and Renesmee. They showed up after Brady’s spying found Bella to have been dead. 

But we had proven that the baby was not a threat, after I clutched her in my arms. 

They couldn’t do anything to the baby without hurting me. I couldn’t be touched. I was sacred, so thanks fate for saving all of us. Even if I hated my niece’s name. 

Thanks fate for Paul. _________________________________ Word Count: 1559

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #sam uley #jared cameron #jacob black #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader

[shirtlesssammy]

5x21: Two Minutes to Midnight

Then:

The End is Nigh

Now:

Davenport, Iowa

We begin this episode with Pestilence paying an ailing woman a visit. He’s riddled her with more diseases than she can handle. What an experiment!

One Day Earlier

At Bobby’s, Sam’s getting an earful from Dean about his plan to say yes to Lucifer. Dean gets a call from Cas. Dean wants to know where he is --they all thought he was dead. He’s in a hospital. He’s not one for conversation at the moment, but does tell Dean that he just woke up in the hospital. Dean tells him their next step: get Pestilence. 

For Hospital Bed Science:

Cas groans in pain and tells Dean he can’t fly anywhere. He’s thirsty, and his head aches, and he has a bug bite, and he’s all so very... Dean finishes his thought with, “human”. Cas needs money for pain meds and travel expenses. 

Also, he stops Dean from hanging up and says that he owes him an apology. “You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be,” he confesses. Dean’s awkward about such a solemn apology. I’m soft about how soft this moment is. 

The brothers head out to scope out the convalescent home where Pestilence chills. They knock out the security guard to watch video footage of the place. 

Eventually Sam notices the camera flickering with one person. They head out to find him. 

As Pestilence is taking care of Cold Open Celeste, a demon comes in to warn him about the Winchesters. He’s upset over what they did to his brothers, and wants revenge. The demon reminds him he’s not supposed to hurt “the vessels”. He doesn’t care and starts hurting everyone in the building. 

Sam and Dean start coughing, and struggle to keep walking. They both collapse outside Pestilence’s door. They’re now riddled with disease, just like Celeste. While the boys struggle on the ground, Pestilence gets to monologue a bit about the frailty of humans. 

Enter one VERY human-like angel. Yeah, poor Cas is just as affected as the Winchesters. Pestilence laughs, “There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?” Cas then lunges at him, and cuts his ring finger right off. “Maybe just a speck.” Oh Cas, you badass. Never change. 

The demon attacks, and he knifes her. Pestilence disappears, but not before ominously stating, “It’s too late.” 

And now they have three rings. 

At Bobby’s, Dean asks for some good news. Bobby tells them that Chicago is about to get hit with the storm of the millennium. Three million people are going to die. 

GOOD NEWS, Bobby! Or as Cas deadpans, “I don’t understand your definition of ‘good news’.” 

Bobby points out that Death will be there. They still need his ring. 

Sam wonders how Bobby knows all this. Enter Crowley. 

Bobby admits to selling his soul to Crowley. Dean demands that Crowley give it back. Sam wonders if Bobby had to kiss him. Bobby denies it --but Crowley’s got proof. Of course. 

Crowley won’t give back Bobby’s soul as insurance that the Winchesters won’t kill him. I mean, I kind of have to side with Crowley here. He’s being REALLY generous even considering giving back Bobby’s soul. Bobby sold it fair and square. He’s getting information from Crowley in return. 

Later, by the Impala, Dean and Sam talk. Sam admits that he has his doubts about his plan as much as the rest of them. “You, Bobby, Cas...I'm the least of any of you.” Like, OUCH, Samuel. We deep dive into Dean’s self-worth issues on the regular, but let’s just pause and reflect on the younger sibling right now. 

Sam’s all they got though, so they have to try. 

Crowley interrupts the broment with news about the world. It seems that Pestilence was spreading Swine Flu, and Sam’s old buddy Brady’s company was cranking out the vaccine --only it was full of Croatoan virus not a cure. If this vaccine is distributed nationwide, it’ll all be over.

Cas and Bobby pack up the van. Cas is...moody. He mourns the loss of his angelic might. The only thing he has available to him now...is a shotgun. (Starts humming) Bobby tells him to quit whining and load the truck. 

The teams finish packing for their respective hunts. Sam waxes nostalgically about the simpler days of hunting monsters. Dean doesn’t think it was ever simple. Crowley interrupts and presents Dean with Death’s own scythe (in travel-sized form). 

Crowley urges Bobby to stand up and get ready to fight. He reveals that he inserted a little healing clause into Bobby’s soul deal that healed Bobby’s paralysis. Bobby stands up triumphantly. 

Later, Sam, Bobby, and Cas drive towards the Croatoan virus operation. Cas reflects on Sam’s idea to toss himself into the pit along with Lucifer. He thinks it’s a solid plan. 

Cas passes along some new intel about the archangel prize fight: Michael has taken Adam as a vessel. He warns Sam that failing to control Lucifer means that the apocalypse will happen, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Oh, and “there’s also the demon blood…” Sam will have to drink gallons of blood in order to be strong enough to contain Lucifer. BLEGH.

The next morning, they lurk at the distribution facility. A truck tries to leave and Cas takes out the driver and jams the gate controls. Sam and Bobby head into the warehouse, only to find that the demons have already infected some of the workers with Croatoan. Sam races off into the warehouse to save (uninfected) civilians. 

Dean and Crowley enjoy their first date, tracking Death to a little warehouse.

There’s a lovely clip where Crowley mentions that the area is swarming with reapers, and we get a reveal…

Crowley zaps into the warehouse, discovers that Death isn’t there, then meets Dean outside again. He suggests hightailing it out of Chicago and waiting for the next doomed city in order to find Death. That’s not good enough, though. Dean wants to find a way to save people, even if they can’t track down the Horseman. While Dean despairs, Crowley peers into a little pizza place and then heads back to Dean. He found Death! With his work done and not even a high five to show for it, Crowley zaps out of there.

Back at the warehouse, Sam’s finishes evacuating the uninfected civilians. Just as they think they’re home free, Sam gets attacked and Bobby’s gun jams. Enter Castiel, who shoots Sam’s attacker and says, “Actually these things can be useful.” 

For Angel with a Shotgun Science:

Dean creeps through the pizza parlor, which is full of dead patrons and waitstaff. Death’s scythe heats up in his hand and, agonized by the red hot handle, Dean drops it. The next thing he knows, his Death super-weapon is safely by Death’s side. 

Death sits at a table savoring a piece of pizza, and invites Dean to join him.

Dean wants to know if he’s about to die, but Death informs him that he has other plans for him. Death quietly reminds Dean that he’s as old and vast as the universe. No biggie though. Dean’s a bacterium, practically, but it’s fine. Death serves Dean a slice of pizza and I desperately long for some good Chicago deep dish. 

Death says that he’s as old as God, and maybe older. “At the end, I’ll reap him too.” (And while I appreciate that they didn’t kill Chuck in the traditional stabby manner, I’ll always mourn that we didn’t get to see this line fulfilled in one of the finale’s endless montage sequences, and that Billie didn’t survive to do the job.) (Boris, huddled in the corner: Death didn’t reap Chuck because he won, and the story isn’t over yet...)

Anyway, Dean’s appropriately awed by Death’s power. “This is way above my pay grade,” Dean mutters. Death reveals that he’s been waiting for Dean to catch up to him - Lucifer’s spell has prevented him from directly seeking out the Winchesters. “I’m more powerful than you can process, and I’m enslaved to a bratty child having a tantrum,” Death spits. Preach! Death proposes depowering Lucifer’s Death weapon. He’ll hand Dean his ring willingly.

“What about Chicago?” Dean asks, ever the hunter.

Oh, Chicago can survive. Death likes the pizza. He hands Dean his ring and tells him that he has to do whatever it takes to trap Lucifer. “You’re going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit. Now, do I have your word?” Dean takes the ring as Death issues one final warning. “You know you can’t cheat Death.”

Back at Bobby’s, Dean looks at the rings. They’ve got all four of them and together, they form into a magic little bundle of rings. Bobby finds Dean for a little heart to heart. 

Dean reveals that he lied to Death - he’s not okay with Sam tossing himself into the pit. However, Bobby thinks that Death may be right about Sam’s plan being their best option. Bobby watched Sam save all the civilians in the factory before they blew it up, and he thinks that Sam can handle it. “Sam will beat the Devil, or die trying. That’s the best we could ask for. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?”

O, Quotes:

I don't understand your definition of good news

We'll catch Death in the next doomed city

Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you

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#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #bobby singer #death #crowley #spn 5x21 #Two Minutes To Midnight #supernatural season 5 #and that's it for season 5

[holylulusworld]

Rage

Summary: Obedient – dream on alpha…

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Characters: Carson Brady, Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, misogynism, language, collars, demons, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, Dean being a douche for a second, smut, unprotected and half-clothed sex, biting, marking, claiming, knotting, enemies to lovers trope (kinda, you’ll see)

A/N: This is an AU. Brady is not possessed by a demon, only an asshole and never met Sam. The Winchesters are still hunters, just like the reader.

The room is crowded and stinks like desperation. Your eyes scan the people, always searching for the one person you are looking for.

“Well, there you are my love.” Snickering Brady moves his hand to your back, possessively stroking your back and you need to hold back the bile. A deep breath, a faked smile and you can pretend you don’t want to ram a knife into his guts.

“Of course, alpha. You said I shall wait here for you.” Brady admires the collar he put around your neck, a dark smirk on his lips as another alpha steps closer. “Be thankful for the collar.”

“I am…” You snap and Brady’s features darken when he fists the collar to force you to look at him. “Thank you…”

“Well, aren’t you an obedient little bitch.” The alpha smirks while you struggle in Brady’s hold. It’s too early to blow your cover so you smile, nod, and swallow your pride for a moment.

“She will be after tonight. I thought about branding her. An omega like her needs a strong hand and a good knot.”

Your eyes narrow when the other alpha chuckles but there is something in his eyes telling you he feels as disgusted as you close to Brady and his friends.

“Maybe I can buy her for one night? I’d like to test her limits.” The alpha steps closer to brush his fingertips along your mating gland. “How much?”

“For you, half of the price the others would pay. Be my guest, have fun but do not damage the goods…at least let her live.” Your hands balled into fists you feel the hand of the alpha curl around your neck to bring you closer to him.

“Come with me, sweetheart. I’ll give you the ride of your life…”

“I am warning you…” Knife in your hand, eyes narrowed you want to kill the alpha bringing you to a bedroom. “Obedient my ass! I’ll kill you all!”

“Son of a bitch would you calm down? I am Dean Winchester, my brother Sam sent me for back-up. Jesus, you are a handful.” Dean pants while he shields his body with a pillow. “I will not hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and do not move! How shall I know you are not an imposter?” Blinking a few times Dean recalls what Sam told him.

“I know! Sam said you love to dunk fries into ice cream.” A minute ticks by before you lower the knife to slide it back into your garter. “Can we now talk about bringing down the demons selling omegas or do you want to wrestle for dominance first?”

Cockily Dean steps closer to intimidate you with his size but you puff your chest, not giving in at all. “I can handle this. I got no clue why you are here. To make this room stink like an alpha?”

“I take it back, you are not an obedient bitch, only a bitch.” Pushing against his chest you glare at the tall alpha who is busy to look at the collar around your neck. “I could just make you obedient…”

“You could have my foot in your ass before you can even blink, Winchester.” He steps closer still a smirk on his lips before pushes you to the ground to cover you with his body. “What the fuck!”

“Shhh…make noises like a good omega. Mewl or something. Brady is outside, looking into the room.” Dean pants against your neck and you don’t know if he tries to trick you. “I swear he’s there. Just make…”

“Oh-god…alpha. You are so hard.” Giggling you hide your face in Dean’s neck. “You make me feel so good. Harder. Fuck…please make me yours. I want to feel your knot…please…”

“You’ll get what I give you. Be good for me…” Dean purrs, against your skin, and for a split-second, you are turned on. “Damn, you are so soft against me.” He whines and the moment is gone.

“Can you just not press your dick against my thigh?” Shushing the words you hear someone groan outside the windows. “Harder! Please fuck me harder, alpha!”

“Such a good girl,” Dean adds and you snicker silently as it sounds as if Brady jerks off outside the room. “So tight and warm…”

“Yes…that’s…fuck…” An odd noise followed by a gunshot catches your attention. Dean rolls off you, already aiming his gun toward the man entering the room.

“Dude! Why don’t you answer your phone! Bobby and I…” Sam’s eyes rake over your bunched up dress and his eyes narrow. “Did you try to hit on Y/N? I told you to keep your cock in your pants for once!”

“Guys, I am right here and he didn’t take his tiny noodle out. Now back to the case or do you want to fight some more?” Sam needs to hold back a smirk when his brother glares at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Fine, follow us, and be good.” Dean is gone before you can get up so Sam holds out his hand, silently apologizing for his brother's behavior.

“Fuck you too, Winchester…”

“Perfect ending…” Watching the paramedics take care of the scared omegas Dean leans against his car while your eyes drift toward Brady on the ground.

He snarls as one of the ‘omega protectors’, the special unit to protect unmated omegas handcuffs him. “That guy was the head of another cell, Sammy.”

“We cut one head off only for another to grow. It’s a never-ending cycle, Dean.” Sam sits on the hood, running one hand over his face.

“You always have to kill the mood. Can you not, for once, be happy we freed fifteen omegas and a bitch?” Meeting Dean’s gaze you give him a dirty look.

“Alpha scum…”

“Bitch.”

“Useless knothead…”

“I’ll lock you into our dungeon and…”

“Guys, seriously get a room and release the tension or stop fighting. Bobby and I are going to get a drink and some well-deserved rest.”

Sam shakes his head before he hurries toward Bobby’s truck. “Don’t come back before you talked things out.”

Dean follows his brother with his eyes while you lazily stretch your body. “Got a ride?” Dean asks and you shake your head. “Pity. You will have to walk to town…”

“You’re such an asshole! I can’t believe Sam is related to you as he’s a gentleman and good alpha.” Dean smirks, opens the door to the driver's seat.

For a heartbeat, you believe he’ll offer you a ride but he starts the engine, slams the door shut, and drives away.

“Fucking asshole, that’s so lame…” You kick a stone, weigh your options before you start walking toward the road. There was a bus station not too far away, so you’ll try your luck. “Can’t believe he left me here, in the middle of nowhere.”

The bus station in sight you sigh. It started to rain. Now you are soaked, freeze, and are beyond pissed. “Should’ve asked the cops to give me a ride.”

Hurrying toward the bus station you wrap your arms around your body. It’s getting colder per minute and you don’t need a cold.

“Look at this. A wet angry kitten at a bus station.” Dean muses. He opens the door to the passenger seat, a dirty grin on his lips. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yeah, Dean Winchester is an asshole who leaves a fellow hunter in the middle of nowhere not caring if there are still demons around.

I thought you are better than one of those monsters in the mansion buying omegas.” Your eyes are cold when you sit on the bench, ignoring the hunter.

“All alphas are the same. If you do not obey, they call you a freak of nature. Go and fuck yourself…”

“Come on, Y/N. It’s cold and the rain won’t let up. I didn’t know you would walk, okay. I drove back and you were gone. Get into the car before you get a cold and Sammy kills me, sweetheart.” Dean gets out of the car when you do not get up.

Yelping you fight the hunter as he picks you up to carry you toward his car. “Let me down! Hey! Help!”

“Shut up, brat or someone will get arrested!”

“Yeah…you!”

“No, you…brat! Now get into the car and shut up for a moment.”

“What the fuck, Winchester. Let go of me. Hey! I am talking to you.” Dean drags you toward an odd building while you scream and shout. He wanted to drop you at your motel room, instead, he drove to this building without an explanation.

While he drags you into the building not caring you bite him repeatedly Dean smirks. “Are you done, sweetheart?”

“No.” Snarling you attack his neck when he dares to look at you in his arms. “Let me down! I am warning you one last time before I bite your head off.”

“I want to watch you bite my head off.” Blinking a few times, you grit your teeth before you sink them into his neck, almost piercing his mating gland.

“You can fight me as much as you want. Sam said I shall bring you to the bunker and I did. Now be silent and obey for once.”

“Asshole…I’ll bite you and…” Nibbling at Dean’s neck you cup the back of his head to get better access. “Mark you…”

“You’re such a needy bitch. I bet when I have a look at your panties, they are soaked for me.” Humming you let Dean carry you toward his room. “I’ve missed you.”

“Then you should finally have the guts to tell your brother you are railing his best friend.” Placed onto your feet you smirk before you cup the back of Dean’s head to crush your lips onto his.

Mirroring your action Dean smirks when you slide your free over his back up to his shoulder to grip him tightly.

“I love it when you get mad.” Snickering against your lips Dean grips your ass while you fumble his belt open. “Why didn’t you wait? I had to be sure Sammy is gone and you just started to walk away.”

“Maybe as you acted like a douche too well? The demons were gone and you pulled the dominant alpha shit.” Your fingers deftly unbutton his pants to get access to his cock. “One day, I’ll bite you hard enough to hurt.”

“One day I’ll mark this neck as mine! Now be good…” Dean tries but you already push against his chest to make him stumble and end on his bed. Smirk on your lips you crawl into his lap to shamelessly grind against the growing bulge.

“Hmm…look at you, Dean. If you can prove you can tame me, I’ll let you mark me, alpha…” Purring Dean looks up at you.

His pupils’ lust-blown, lips parted he just watches you rip his flannel open. Your hands greedily slide over his chest, before you start grinding against his crotch.

“Fuck me, Dean…” In a blink you are flipped to your back, hands pinned above your head, panting as Dean smirks down at you.

“I mean it, Y/N.” Husking the words against your lips Dean dips one hand between your bodies to tug harshly at your panties. “You’re mine…”

“Yeah? Don’t see a mark at my neck. I don’t know…” A cry leaves your lips when he presses the tip in. “Fuck, it’s been a while…”

“Three fucking weeks, sweetheart. Damnit, you’re so fucking tight every time.” Dean’s serious look, the way he furrows his brows in concentration when he sinks into you let your toes curl.

“You could’ve at least gotten rid of your pants, Winchester.” Not sorry at all Dean buries his face into your neck to inhale your scent deeply. He loves just feeling your warmth sucking him in. “Dean…”

“I’ll mark this neck, fill you up and make you round tonight.” Stubbornly insisting on his mark at your neck Dean starts to roll his hips. “Tomorrow, you’ll move in. I got enough of sneaking around.”

“My brave…a fuck me…little hunter…” Giggling you grip his shoulders to dig your nails into his flesh. “If you can make me cum, I’ll give in…”

Determined to earn his mark at your neck Dean grips the headboard, digs his knees into the mattress before he looks down at you, a dirty grin on his lips.

“Hold tight, this is going to be a wild ride.”

“Promises…” Challenging the alpha on top of you was a mistake as he starts to slam his hips against yours. He’s growling low in his throat and you swear, for a split-second, you saw the alpha, the animal in Dean’s eyes. “Fuck…Dean…”

“What did you say?” He’s gripping your thighs, spreads you wide before he bends your knees to get better access. You are a begging mess after a few more thrusts.

The way he looks at you, his moans, and the knot swelling inside of you are too much to handle.

“I…” A strangled cry leaves your lips when the coil winds up. You try to warn Dean but it’s too late to stop the high rippling through your body.

Dean drops your legs, fists your hair to force you to crane your neck. He’s panting heavily jerks his hips a few more times before his teeth sink into your mating gland.

Cum floats your belly when his knot locks you together but all you can feel are Dean’s teeth not letting go of your neck. “Mine…”

“So…what was that thing with the knife? Sweetheart?” Dean looks at you snuggled into his pillow not caring about a thing while he runs his hand up and down your back.

“I knew Brady is outside, looking into the room. I could smell him and thought I’ll give him a good show.”

“You could’ve warned me! I almost got cut when you wielded your toothpick of a knife in front of my chest.” Giggling you look at Dean who lifts the blanket covering you to have a look at your ass. “Fucking perfect.”

“Gosh, can you just stop staring! It’s been three weeks, not years.”

“I don’t care. Tomorrow I’ll tell Sammy we like to have sex…” Now you burst into laughter, bite the pillow while little snorts leave your lips.

“God…don’t say it like that.”

“I’ll say you’re mine then…”

“Do you think she will move into the bunker?” Bobby sips at his beer, a smug grin on his lips when Sam chokes on air. “I am old, not blind, Sam. I know Dean and your friend are a thing.”

“Can you believe they sneak around for months behind my back believing I am too blind to see the hickeys and bite marks. I am not a kid.” Sam chortles.

“I mean, last time they made such noises I had to leave the motel room next to Dean’s…”

“We could make it hard for them...”

“Nah, I think Y/N will rile Dean up for a lifetime. Even I am scared when she’s angry. The rage in her eyes...scary as shit...”

SPN Forever Tags

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--------------------------------------

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A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#Rage #angst #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x reader #alpha!dean #abo #abo dynamics #spn smut #smut #abo smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omegareader #claiming

[jawritter]

Jealous Of My Demons...

Requested by: @imabitch4jensen​

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, language, angst, Dean bing a dick, fluff, set at the end of season 5 after they boys killed the horsemen pestilence. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader (friends), Mentioned Brady x Reader. 

Word Count: 1970

A/N: Trying to knock out some of these requests. So you guys get two fics today lol. As always please do not copy my work! All mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

Want More? Check out my Masterlist!

****MASTERLIST***

It had been a very long five days. 

Well, a very long two weeks really. 

To say things were tense between Dean and yourself would be the understatement of the year, and the recent events leading up to the where you were now weren't exactly helping what had already been a tense situation for the two of you.

Dean and yourself had been dating for five years. Ever since you came to find Sam after he quit Stanford and started searching for his dad with Dean. It took you a while, about a year and a half actually, but you finally found him. When you did, and you officially found out about all the lovely shit that goes bump in the night. You started helping Sam with research on hunts, and then things developed between Dean and yourself rather quickly.

You just clicked.

Things were great for years, but as of late, between Sam and his addiction to Demon blood behind Dean's back, the world ending, horseman on the loose, things between the two of you hadn't been as great as they used to be.

Hell, you barely even talked to each other anymore unless you had to. 

Last week when they captured your now ex-boyfriend, Brady, who went to school with yourself and Sam, and much to Dean's dismay was your boyfriend while you were at Stanford, made things even tenser between you.

Crowley and Sam thought it would be a good idea to use you to get information out of him as to where pestilence was hiding. Dean did not like that idea at all. That was probably the worst fight you ever had. The only one that had ended up with you sleeping in a separate motel room that night, and the fight that drove the wedge between the two of you still. 

Even though the boys had gotten the information they needed, and defeated the horseman, Dean was still angry, and not speaking to you.

You had about all of the silence you could handle. 

Still, you sat quietly in the back seat of Baby, watching the blur of trees fly buy you in the dark as Dean drove back to your home away from home, Bobby Singer's house, to rest up and regain the strength the boys needed to continue this fight that seemed to be never-ending.

Every now and then you would feel Dean's eyes on you in the rearview mirror, but you ignored him in order to keep from crying the whole way there. 

You were exhausted from the fighting, you were exhausted from the tension, and you knew that when you got to Bobby's house this was going to all come to a head, and Dean was going to either want to yell at you or leave you. Because even Sam seemed to be starting to react to the tension in the car nervously fidgeting in his seat as the silence in the car became deafening. 

When you finally saw Bobby's house come into sight you chewed on your lower lip nervously, and as soon as the car was in park Sam was out of it, and headed into the house, leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean got out of the car and leaned against the hood as he waited for you to get out of the car.

"This is it," you thought to yourself, "he's breaking up with you." 

Making our way around the car with your head looking at the ground you thought if you just kept walking, and didn't' stop he may just let it go, and not want to break up with you. It was a futile hope, but it was a hope nonetheless.

"Y/N, wait a minute we need to talk," Dean said as you passed him heading for the front door. 

Stopping in your tacks you looked at him for the first time tonight. Really looked at him, and you were surprised by what you saw there. He didn't look angry, and that surprised you. You were sure you'd find him angry with you, but he just looked...

Tired. 

"Whatever is going on between us we need to work this out because I feel like I'm losing you sweetheart, and I don't want to do that." 

His words shocked you, making you look down and start kicking gravel around your feet. Trying to pick and choose your words wisely, but the anger was still bubbling in you past the hurt, or maybe it was the anger that was driving the hurt, you weren't even sure anymore.

"What is there to say, Dean. You said it all that night that I helped to interrogate Brady. You obviously don't trust me anymore. Maybe you never did." 

Dean's eyes searched you before looking down at his own shoes that were crossed one over the other as he leaned against Baby's hood. 

"That's not true, Y/N, I trust you. Hell, you know shit about me nobody does, not even Sammy. I didn't say those things because I didn't trust you, I said those things because I didn't trust the damn demon that was in your ex. It really had nothing to do with you." 

You glared at Dean as he glared back at you. Both of you standing your ground now like a bunch of overgrown stubborn mules. Neither willing to give an inch. Dean's words still ringing in your ears.

---------------------

"I don't want you to do this, fuck Sam and Crowley," Dean whispered yelled at you.

"Dean, Brady is still inside there with that Demon somewhere, maybe I can get through to the real him, and we can find this next horseman." You say back at him through your teeth.

"No, I'm not letting you do this," Dean said as if his word was written like the law of Pharaoh, and he had the last say.

"You're not my father Dean, and I'm not a child. You can't tell me what I can and can't do." 

You turn your back on Dean and head for the door. 

"Fine, that's how you want to be, go run to your rich ex-boyfriend, apparently you were that bitch in college, and I had you all wrong."

Your turn around on your heels, and stare at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?" 

Dean crossed the floor, towering over you like his sheer height advantage would make you back down.

"You heard me, I didn't stutter. You were that bitch. That arrogant egotistical, gold-digging, money ridding bitch. I don't know how you ever ended up here with me. Go run to the aid of your rich ex-boyfriend. Apparently, you would rather be with him than me any." 

You stood there stunned as Dean walked by you, and out of the room as the tears from his hurtful words fell down your face. 

--------------------------

"Then why did you say that shit to me, Dean? Obviously, we don't know each other as well as we thought we did."

"I was jealous OKAY?" 

You stood there blinking at him and his outburst like he'd finally cracked, and you needed to call Bobby out here to take a look at his mental state. 

"Y/N, baby, please listen to me. I didn't mean a damn thing I said that night, I was jealous and scared, and I didn't want you to get hurt by that demon possessing Brady, but I also didn't want you to see Brady, remember how much better he was than me, and decided to leave me and go for a guy like him. Someone you really deserve!"

Dean was off the car now and standing in front of you with either hand on the side of your face. His thumb lightly tracing away the tears that had fallen there. 

"Dean I don't want a man like Brady. Brady only ever cared about his money and his career. Obviously, he lost himself somewhere along the way, I don't want someone like that. He and I never got along well anyway. You were the best damn thing that's ever happened to me! I don't want you ever to think you’re not good enough for me. I left Brady, Stanford, and everything else behind for Sammy, and YOU. Because I want to be with you. Not some rich dick that thinks he's better than everyone. Dean, I love you! You overgrown idiot!"

To stop your rant Dean close the distance between you, his lips brushing over yours before deepening the kiss. Taking your breath away, and leaving you panting as he pulled away from you.

"I love you too Y/N, and I can't lose you, never. Nothing is more important to me than you, and I need your right now more than ever because I don't know how all this is going to end." 

Reaching your hands around his neck you play with the small hairs on the nape of his neck as he backs you towards Baby's hood. 

His hands are roaming your body, holding onto your hips tightly as you slip yourself onto the hood of the car. His teeth graze over your lower lip pulling a moan from you as he spreads your legs, and he settles in between them. His fingers finding your cover clit and rubbing soft there as he worked his way down your neck. Leaving little bit marks and open-mouthed kisses as he went. Your hands fumbling as you try your best not to alert Bobby and Sam in the house as to what was about to happen between you. 

Opening up his pants you reach your hands into his tight boxers and free his already hard length, pumping him slowly to match the pace of his fingers that were now inside your thong. Buried knuckle deep in your aching core. His thumb still keeps up the same steady rhythm. 

"Fuck sweetheart, I need you now," he growled against your neck, removing his fingers from you, and ripping your thing off of your body. 

Placing it in his pocket as he freed himself more from the confines of his pants and boxers. Pressing his leaking tip to your waiting entrance and sinking into you in one smooth thrust. Your teeth sink into his shoulder to keep the moan at bay as he grunts into your neck. Your bodies moving and grinding together as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The deep hitting ever sweet spot he'd ever found and then some you didn't even know about.

The coil is already tightening in your belly as you move together. Your walls flutter around his already throbbing length. Your breath mingling together in the cool night air. 

"Fuck Dean I'm close," you whimpered in his ear as his ground himself harder against you. 

"I'm right there to baby let go." 

That's all it took and you were falling to pieces around him as your walls clamped down on his throbbing length while he spilled himself deep inside of you. Both of you panting against each other as his lips found yours, and he slid himself out of you and back into his clothes. 

Helping you slide down from Baby's hood and holding you close to him as you shivered from the night air around you. Shrugging off his leather jacket he slipped it over your shoulders before giving you another peck on the lips.

"I"m sorry, Sweetheart. I'm not going to let me get between us again."

"I'm sorry to Dean." You tell him as his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. You'd missed this, you'd missed this so much

"Dean get your ass inside so we can figure out what's our next move!" Bobby called from the house, leaving the two of you laughing together. 

"You know that's probably going to be you when you're old right?" You asked Dean as he helped you walk to the house through the dark wrecking yard.

"Long as I got you baby I can live with that."

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Tag List: 

@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #jealous!dean #jealous dean winchester #jealous dean x reader #jealous dean x you #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn one shot #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #jawritter #dean winchester smut #spn smut

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Loving the sailors while hating the beach (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 3.)

Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part summary: As you spent another day with the mysterious man who invited you to stay at his place as a sign of his selflessness, you started to notice that Forks really is a strange town. And on top of that, that Jacob might be hiding something.

A/N: NCIS Forks be strong in this chaper, oh boy. 

Tagging: @missdictatorme​

Word count: 4.2 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

The night fell on Forks slowly, almost as if it was lurking around for some time before covering the streets. For some time, you've been sitting in a super-small cubbyhole named the 'Administrative office'. Administrative up your ass, you barely didn't knock off the brooms you've been sharing the room with. It shouldn't surprise you that you were falling asleep while writing small numbers into the boxes. You've also picked up a few phones - for such a small town, there was a lot of cars just suddenly breaking down. But Jacob sometimes even took small jobs around in the smaller towns around forks - like La Push, Beaver, and Sappho.

It wasn't even nine hours when you were snoozing with your head in your palm because you've simply fallen asleep. Also, it was weird to see Jacob walking around the whole building, checking on the heating - as if he wasn't turning the heating on in such cold. It was summer and the city was still cold as hell. And this mechanic wasn't turning on his heating system? What kind of crazy he was? The man has woken you up after ten minutes, sending you to bed - yet you didn't know that he didn't walk to bed that night. As soon as he heard snoring coming out of the visitor's bedroom, Jacob made sure the door to the small flat were locked before he ran into the woods. It was time to check with the other guys - Jared and Paul, two of his friends from Sam Uley's spent their whole day on the northern route, trying to find out something more about the unwanted visitors of Forks.

At first, the werewolves weren't entirely sure if there was any vampires close at the moment. If it wasn't just some... Re-awakening of the spirit animals. That was until two days ago - now, the whole packs have transformed once again. Every night Jacob had turned into a wolf, he growled sadly when he realized there was someone he hadn't heard before - first, it was Quil alone. The man was confused, as most of them. Both of them were praying for Quil to be the last. But he wasn't - Embry and Seth coming right the night after Quil's turning. Leah was the last to join. In the meantime, Sam's pack turned at once as well. It was just like five years ago.

'Welcome back to the game, chief.' - Seth's happy and joyful voice started to talk inside Jacob's head. As he was getting closer to the manger of the Calawah river, he could hear two other wolves joining him. It was Embry and Seth - rest of the pack got their tasks the last night and went on a watch and tracking the vampire pack. Jake could hear most of the things Quil and Leah told them. - 'We know they are here. We captured the smell...' - The leader mumbled to Seth, running along the river. They weren't sprinting because there wasn't a reason to do so. Quil nor Leah hadn't smelled the rotten tomato stench the whole day, as if the vampires had suddenly disappeared into the thin air.

'Don’t worry, Jake. We'll take all of them down.' - Embry answered from the other side. Dear Lord, Jacob almost didn't notice that Embry is there, even if he knew that he's coming. He could be so quiet at times. - 'I'm silent like death, yeah, suit yourself.' - Embry answered Jake's flow of thoughts, making a few pampering sounds. This was how the wolves were laughing. To some, it could sound almost horrifying, but it made Jacob giggle as well. Giggling, when the boys were in their animal forms was a wild combination of growling and strange throat sounds. - 'Yeah, but admit, it's strange. No stench, no track, we can't find them. It's like playing blind man's buff.'

The vampires seemed to be poking around in the woods as if they were trying to find a blind spot. Maybe they already did find some. But Charlie, when Jacob was calling him earlier, didn't report any missing person. Yet all of them were sure that as soon as the vampires find the smallest cranny in the defense, it will go down. As soon as they smell a chance, it will go down. At last, this half of the pack was on the meeting point. Sam was already sitting there, watching Jacob approaching the estuary of the Bogachiel and Quillayute rivers. - 'Keep it down for a moment, alright, boys?' - Jacob asked Embry and Seth, who were waiting in a respectful distance. Embry was almost always quiet and Seth, even though there was a huge grin on his face, knew better than talking to alphas communicating. - 'I have news from Quil and Leah. They were walking the trail up at Calawah. What about your people?' - There was no greeting needed - the russet wolf simply shook his head at the bigger, black one. - 'Nothing. It's like searching for a ghost.'

Jacob had to say, that even if he wasn't in Sam's pack anymore, he liked that Sam kept it simple - no matter what happened, Sam never gave anyone too complex orders. - 'Nothing on our part of the territory as well. We will be trying to search through the North, there's lesser of us. Would your pack take the South?' - Jacob planned on trying to search through the whole Northern region, up to the Ozette Lake. There was a lot of tricky canyons smaller rivers, pounds and the vegetation was thick there as well. There was a suspicion that maybe, this time, this group of vampires was hiding next to a water source. He already had experience with the leeches hiding in the sea, why wouldn't they bivouac in a lake? - 'Sure. I'll send Jared and Brady to Hoh Ox, Lucas, and I will go a bit western closer to Oil city. We'll gather here in the morning and give all the information to Seth so he can tell everything to the morning patrol, okay?' - Without answering the question, Jacob and the rest of his small pack got up, running through the ice-cold waters of the river.

Most of the night, it was quiet and calm - sometimes, when the silence was too long, Seth started to throw in some jokes. Most of them were pretty cringe, but some made Jacob snicker under his breath. It was almost time to regroup and set to the meeting point when the whole pack felt it through Embry's eyes. The fur on the back of his neck stood up, his whole body tensed, and growls unintentionally escaped through his tests. Just as he saw a woman standing on top of one huge cliff, looking down on him, the pack tried to get to Embry's position as soon as possible.

The animal wasn't holding anything back - as soon as it saw the woman, it sprang forward to kill her. But she just leaned her head to her shoulder, furrowing at the sight. It appeared as if she wasn't even taken away by seeing such a huge wolf. Based on the stench, she realized this wasn't just some wolf, but she hadn't even flinched. - 'Embry, don't!' - Jacob cried out just when Embry made his way onto the cliff, trying to take the cold woman down. Yet just when the wolf almost caught her ankle in his mouth, she jumped down while still studying every move the animal made.

She wasn't supposed to attack, no. Her posture was strictly curious, careful - the woman might tease them a bit, see how they react, but she surely wasn't about to strike back. She was a scout, sent there by her pack to study the animals. Sam's pack might've encountered another one. - 'Back off, Embry. She's just playing with you!' - Seth, who realized it as well, called out. - 'He's right. wait for us and then we'll try to chase her down!' - Jacob yelled at his friend and jumped onto the lake's beach, circling at the woman's back. It didn't take too long until Seth slowly walked out of the woods on the other side. The woman was quietly scanning all of them and Jacob's size certainly did surprise her. Embry was huge - but Jacob was even bigger.

'We won't catch her, no matter what we do. She isn't going to attack.' - Seth realized and started analyzing her back. At this, the woman smiled and started to lean her head just like Seth was. The pack was still closing on her, but as soon as she would feel threatened she'll simply run away. - "Interesting." - She mumbled and closed her eyelids a bit. - "We don't wanna hurt you. We won't be attacking you or your packs - we just want free access to the city, that's it." - The woman cried out. A terrifying grin appeared on her face for a second as the thought she might succeed. The deep growling came from everyone's mouth at the same time, giving her exactly the answer she needed. - "So you have chosen death. I'll tell it to the others." - And with that, she disappeared. As if she wasn't there, as if she just disappeared into the thin air. The wolves watched each other. The scent didn't lead them too far into the woods, it was as if the woman was just a dream.

Forks, 9:00 a.m.:

You were sleeping in the bed, safe and sound. Your mouth tasted disgusting, and you had a slight headache - you didn't even want to see your damn hair. Even if you knew it was just a lie, the room felt too warm for a moment. For the first time during your road trip, you weren't feeling cold. Lazily, you searched for your phone and read through the news and such. Then your eyes flought to the clock - oh Lord, Jacob had to open the workshop already, hadn't he? And there you were, laying in the bed, covered in a thick blanket.

Never in your life before, you had dressed as quick as you did that morning. Just when you wanted to run into the bathroom, as you opened door to your room, you heard snoring shaking every piece of pottery. With a straight face, you looked at its source - it was the man himself, somehow puzzled on his small sofa - his hands and one of his leg were laying on the ground, his hair was way messier than yours and also, the blanket was too small for someone like him. Jesus, he must've come back so late, you didn't even want to stop yourself.

As you were tiptoeing around the sofa, you noticed something - his feet. They were covered in soil and needles as if he was walking around in the woods barefooted. What was he doing late, in the woods, and barefooted? Was he searching the best location for a grave? Was he checking out his secret killer case hidden in the woods? With risen eyebrows, you locked yourself in the bathroom. At first, you thought he was just working late. That was it. But the soil on his feet made you insecure. Quickly, you brushed your teeth, combed your hair, and sneaked out of the flat. For a moment, you were thinking about walking to talk to Charlie.

While standing in front of the back door, you were biting on your lower lip and tried to figure out what to do. But in the end, you closed the door again and walked to the 'Administration office' to work on another part of the messy paperwork. Dear Lord, Jacob was bad with bureaucracy. In this, he was honest with you. Sometimes, you couldn't even read what was written down on the paper - so you were re-writing the text and sums on a fresh document while lamenting about his messy handwriting. Jacob came in barely half an hour after you. Yet the man was so quiet he almost gave you a heart attack as he stood in the cubbyhole's doorframe. - "Morning to you too." - The man grinned at you when you finally realized he's standing there and yelled out loud for the God's sake. - "Am I looking that bad?" - The man looked all over his body to see if there was something wrong. He was now looking way better than when you saw him laying on the sofa.

His hair was put into a man bun once more, he changed his clothes and presumably took a quick shower. You didnt know what was hiding under these socks. - "I just... Didn't hear you coming. I was really into reading your 'Volkswagen repair... Re-hair..'. Fuck, I can't read it." - With that, you sighed and tried to figure out the hieroglyphs once again. Jacob grinned at your attempts and drank a sip out of his mug of coffee. Silently, you looked him in the eyes - there were deep, black circles. Well, you weren't surprised. Sleeping on that sofa must've messed with him. Yet even the color in his face seemed to be fading away. - "Man, you have coffee?" - You cried out instead of asking him weird, personal questions. - "Uh, I don't wanna break it down to you... But most people have coffee at home or at work. You want some?"

And he brought you the promised cup - along with a slice of apple pie from Mrs. Peterson. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Jacob was working on his cars, humming most of the songs playing on the radio, while you finished the first few months of that year's paperwork. With an overly concentrated face, you categorized the papers into files, thoroughly writing the months they've containing. That was it for the most part.

Sometimes, when your ass started to hurt, you walked around the workshop, and once, you were so courageous that you took your jacket and walked into the freezing Forks. You never walked too far - but dear Lord, wasn't it cold? The mist wasn't supposed to come out of your mouth in August. It couldn't be more than 46 degrees outside, Jesus Christ. And Tacoma was even more on the North.

You've discovered a few peculiarities on your way. There was a real good looking steak restaurant, a library, and a local high school... Which didn't look like high school at all, in your opinion. For the locals, it was clear as a day you weren't from Forks - mainly because anyone who was from the North wouldn't be shaking because they felt cold. The more courageous ones even stopped you, mostly the older women living in the town just so they could brag about talking to the new girl in town. However, they were respectful and nice, always laughing at your attempts to joke.

"Huh. I was thinking about searching for you. I thought you might've frozen somewhere." - Jacob hummed from under the car he was working on at the moment. It looked like an old minivan. Oh, you'd like seeing me freezing somewhere, might as well get your goal easier, huh? You thought to yourself. You also noticed that the radio was playing the Sea Wolf song (which you've heard at least ten times since you arrived at Forks) and that Jacob knew every word of the song. Well, he couldn't be considered a singer, yet this was slightly against your care of this huge man being a killer. What killer would be singing a love song so blatantly? - "I just met some lady named Karen Newton? She was nice, but I couldn't get out of the conversation, dear Lord." - "Oh, old Mrs. Newton? She's super nosy. What was she asking you about?" - Suddenly, his face appeared from under the car as he was searching for his rug. - "The basics, I guess. Why I'm here, what's my name, how old I am... She seemed very happy when I told her how old I am." - Throughout the small talk, you've taken off your jacket and sat on the 'Administration office's' chair while looking at Jacob drinking a whole cup of super hot coffee. His eating and drinking habits were making you a bit uneasy, but whatever.

"Dear Lord. I'll tell you why is that." - The man sat on his small chair as well, looking back at you. - "She has a son named Mike. And she's trying to find him a girlfriend... Again. Do expect the boy suddenly appearing here soon." - Oh. Okay. So she wasn't just nice... She was trying to figure out if you're good enough for her son. Mrs. Newton didn't seem to be thrilled by your career choice, but her eyes started to shine when you answered her question about having a partner. - 'No, I'm single.' - You told her. That was a misstep. - "But, worry not, even though he's not on my list of favorite people, most people say he's a nice guy." - "Unbelievable!" - A squeal came out of you as you started to laugh from the bottom of your belly. - "I'm here one day and you already think about who I should date. Oh God, that's why I don't like small towns!"

Jacob smiled into his mug. He hadn't seen someone laugh so hard for a long time - and honestly, it was nice to take some time off the vampire-hunting thing to think about stupidities like dating and such. - "I just think that two weeks is a lot of time. This seems like fun." - The man mumbled and climbed back on his small assembly bed. You couldn't understand how the thing could be still standing on its small wheels under his weight, but you weren't wrapping your brain around it too much. - "I also saw a pretty dope steak house like... Five minutes from here." - Okay, this was interesting. His head appeared from below the car once again. - "Do I look like I'm looking for someone to date? No, thank you." - With that, he disappeared again, leaving you to sit there with a subdued expression.

This was straightaway rude. There was the cold, annoyed man once more. And yes, it almost ruined your day. Jacob just flipped at least by 180° in front of you, showing you the fed up man once again. It was the mysterious Bella, wasn't it? Also, who was asking him out on a date? There was a cool-looking restaurant near the workshop and you didn't want to cook all the damn time. Dear Lord, you were in the temptation to spit something about split personality disorder, but you just sipped your coffee to keep your mouth shut. - "All I'm saying is that instead of sitting there the whole time and cooking all the time, we might at least consider take out." - Well, you were firing in the same tone as he was. Under the car, he muttered out a few curse words. The man realized he might go too harsh after you.

It was just... It sounded like a date proposition, to be honest. And there was a lot of going on for Jacob at the moment - the stress of shifting again, a vampire hunt... And to be honest, he still didn't get over what happened with Bella - so even though you didn't have any idea about who the hell she was, you were right in this. - "Sure. Take out sounds good." - Jacob told you when you were sitting in your cubbyhole once again, continuing to do your job.

The rest of the day was more or less quiet and calm - Jacob finished the minivan and started to poke around with your Beetle, at least until an old man came for the car. As you got to know when he introduced himself, this was Mr. Newton and Karen's husband. When he realized who you were, he started to apologize for his wife and the bunch of super-weird and awkward questions. He promised you that in any case, his son won't be asking you out just because Karen liked you. No way in hell.

It was that evening when Jacob finished half of the first step with your car - he cleaned most of the inside, mainly around the engine, and started to make a specific list. Said list was meaningless to you since you didn't know jack shit about cars. But Jacob seemed to know what he was doing, so you just continued with doing what you were doing. When the Sea Wolf were playing for the seventh time, that day alone, you were already sure about every word in the chorus. You were singing it along with Jacob.

When it got late, it was time for you to perform a subtle observation of Jacob's behavior. Around the same time as the previous evening, you pretended that you're sleepy as hell - and told him you're going to bed. And since you got to the bed, after a proper hot shower, it was the waiting game from that point on. You've been pretending that you're sleeping and you did so for such a long time that you almost fell asleep for real. But creaking of the floor made you aware that he ended his work in the shop. For a moment, it seemed that he's listening if you're sleeping. After a few pretty convincing snores, you've heard the door creaking again and the door to the small flat locking. With your breath hitched, you tiptoed to the window, leaned your thighs into the warm hearing, and looked from the window - you've heard him locking the garage, so the only possible exit was right under your window.

And he soon came out - he was half-naked, dressed in some torn pants, barefoot again, looking around as if he was making sure that there's no-one who would be watching him. There was a small moment where your breath hitched completely. What in the world was Jacob doing there, without a t-shirt when it was still just 46 degrees there? Quickly, he ran to the woods - and he didn't come out for the whole half an hour you've been looking at the exact spot where he disappeared.

Your throat got swollen as you climbed under the blanket again. Sure, you had the suspicion he might hurt you at some point, but you knew that the fear is irrational for the most part. You've been just freaked out by large dudes since... That happened. This was making you feel very uneasy and unsafe. Who would disappear in the woods dressed like that when it was so damn cold? How long was he just walking around? Or what was he doing in there?

Could he be a killer of sorts? Was this man dangerous? Did he hurt someone before? Bullocks, you stopped yourself. Charlie seemed to be fond of the man. And he was the crown cop of Forks. No way in hell police chief would be in on this as well... Or would he? The terror was making your sleep very bad. You were waking up every half an hour because you had pretty vivid, intense nightmares.

It was at around three in the morning, you've been up for some time, when you heard Jacob walking into the flat, locking the door behind him. He was... Limbing? It sounded as if he had trouble walking straight - he knocked something over on his way to the sofa. When he crashed there, a loud sound made you aware he did so, you heard him whine for a while before he got up again - presumably to put some clothes on. Then, after some time, you heard his body falling onto the small sofa once more. With closed eyes, you've been listening to the whole process and the silence after. After another hour of laying in the bed, not letting out a single sound, you carefully got up. Deep snoring was residing through the few rooms Jacob had in his flat. You've opened up the door carefully, making sure it won't creak and stuck your head out. With a furrow, your gaze scanned the sleeping man.

Again, his hair was let down, the blanket was too small for him and his whole feet were covered in the soil. Did he think you won't notice? As you closed the door, you sighed against your will. There has been something going on in Forks - and Jacob was heavily involved in this. You decided to observe him for at least two days, to make sure he does this regularly and then... What will you do then? As you laid under the blanket again, your legs got cold and you finally realized what you had to do.

You had to follow him and see what was going on.

#jacob black x reader #jacob black #sam uley #paul lahote #embry call #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #quil ateara #the gang's back at it boys #karen newton #i kid you not #i read the books last week #i swear mike's mom is karen #mike newton #forks washington #well #what if he really is a killer huh #one might never know #charlie swan #bella swan #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight crackheads #twilight renaissance

[holyhellpod]

[TRANSCRIPT] 1. Pilot

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Trigger warnings: discussions of death, fridging, child abuse, child death, alcoholism

[Music]

“In one sentence, this is X-Files meets Route 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty backroads in their trusty ‘64 mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night.”

These are the first two sentences of Eric Kripke’s pitch of Supernatural, dated August 30, 2004. Based on iconic media such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, On The Road, The Odyssey, and The Matrix, Kripke considers Supernatural to be Star Wars in Truck Stop America. He went through over two dozen rewrites of the pilot to get to what we know today: grimy, gritty, horror-filled hero’s journey of the lives of two extremely damaged individuals who don’t really like each other personally or have anything in common, but love each other to death. They save people. They hunt monsters. That’s the family business.

The original pitch for the pilot had Dean informing Sam that supernatural creatures are real and they killed their mum. Sam spent his whole 21-year-long life believing that their father killed their mother, and now their father’s body has been found with Dean as the lead suspect in the murder. Sam has to make the choice to run back to their aunt and uncle’s house in LA where he can spend the summer interning at a law firm before he starts at Stanford, or help Dean fight monsters, and you KNOW which one he chooses.

In the pilot that aired, Sam knows about the supernatural. He and Dean grow up trained as warriors by their father John to hunt supernatural creatures, kill evil, and save people. The plot goes as thus: Sam, a 6 month old baby, is in his crib when an unknown man appears. Mary, Sam and Dean’s mother, walks in. John, their father, comes in as well to see what’s wrong, and finds Mary pinned to the ceiling with a slash across her womb. The house catches on fire, Dean as a four year old takes Sam out of the house, and John follows soon after.

Cut to 22 years later, Sam is a college student at Stanford with a beautiful girlfriend Jess whose resemblance to his mother is, ah, uncanny. He reveals that he’s got an interview on Monday with the law school at Stanford. His idyllic, apple-pie, safe life is interrupted by the appearance of Dean, who asks Sam to accompany him in finding their Dad. That’s the premise of the first season: finding Dad.

Sam makes a deal with Dean that he’ll help on this one last case before he embarks on his life as a lawyer-to-be. Dean takes the deal, but when they realise that John left the case unfinished and skipped town, it’s up to them to follow in John’s footsteps and pick up hunting again, as a fambily. However, Sam reiterates that he needs to be back at Stanford for his meeting that will determine his future, and Dean drops him back. But of course, this is not to be. When he finds Jess pinned to the roof of their bedroom, her womb slashed open, and the apartment starts to burn down, Sam is forced into repeating the history of intergenerational trauma that traps them in the hunting life. The trauma their father inflicted on them is a Promethean circle that leaves no one unscathed.  

John is a hard man. While it’s evident in the first scene that he loves his boys, his grief coupled with his military history twists him into a drill sergeant who works his kids to the bone all in the name of the fambily business. He often puts his own needs above that of his kids, especially Dean, who often acts as the go-between Sam and John. From the very beginning, Sam is positioned as John’s mirror, pulled back into the hunting life when his girlfriend dies just like his mother. Both John and Sam have their lives upended by the death of their significant other, except for Sam, he has Dean, and John had his sons. Bringing them into the life meant leaning on them when he couldn’t handle his grief and the exhaustion of the job himself, but this is a caustic dynamic: your children are not your partners. Dean should not have gone on a hunt by himself at 17 to lay to rest the ghosts of two closeted nuns, when he was closeted himself. John should not have put the burden on Dean to look after his brother while John was away on hunts, because Dean was a child. It robbed Dean of his childhood, forced him to grow up too quickly, and left him with a saviour complex and control issues that he carries well into the last season of the show.

The abuse Sam and Dean suffer at the hands of their father is something that permeates the entire show, all the while the characters apologise for him and little commentary is made on how badly he messed them up. In the pilot, We don’t see him in the present, only in 1983, and then sporadically throughout the rest of the show, notably in seasons one, two, four and five, as well as in the show’s 300th episode “Lebanon”. He is a ghost that controls the fate of these two men, as he directs them where to hunt while at the same time refusing to even show his face in times of dire need. In the episode “Faith”, Dean is dying and John doesn’t make an appearance. In the episode “Home”, Dean calls John scared and crying and begs him to come back to their childhood home of Lawrence, Kansas. Again, John doesn’t show up for them.

There are many moments throughout the show that seem to hinge on one decision, and John’s decision to become a hunter and raise his kids as hunters too is one of them. Another decision is Dean’s choice to die in the last episode. Cas’s choice to partner with Crowley and suck all of purgatory’s souls into himself in season 6. Sam’s choice to settle down with Amelia in season 8.

But it all comes back to the very first decision: Sam deciding to go with Dean to find John. We know now that the demons Azazel and Brady were just waiting for the opportunity to kill Jess when Sam was at his most oblivious and unguarded, which they took after Dean re-entered his life. the repercussions of this reverberate throughout the entire show, most obviously in Sam choosing not to settle down with a woman for the first 7 seasons. But Jessica’s death is the impetus Sam needs to start hunting again, just like Mary’s death was the impetus John had for starting to hunt in the first place.

But actually, with the last episode of the series in mind, another choice is made clear. Dean’s choice to go to Sam.

If the first season would have you believe, Sam Winchester is the protagonist of the series, and Dean is his second in command. He’s one of five main characters throughout season 1, including Dean, John, Mary and Azazel the demon. Azazel begins the narrative by invading Sam’s childhood bedroom and killing Mary, but after the ordinary world of their lives before we hit the call to adventure, Sam is shown as an ordinary guy who just wants to make something of himself. He admits to Dean in some truly spectacular exposition that he swore he was done hunting for good, and that he’s put that life behind him to live safely with his girlfriend and college friends. Of course, being Supernatural, it doesn’t turn out like that.

If you take the last few seasons as gospel, it’s clear that Dean is the emotional heart of the series and Sam exists as his narrative foil. Somewhere along the way their roles got reversed. It’s Sam’s emotional journey we follow throughout the first season. It takes us until episode 4, “Phantom Traveler”, to find something that Dean is afraid of. As the season wears on, it becomes increasingly clear that all he wants is to have his family back together — Sam and Dad, all under one car or motel roof again. Sam, in the Winchester tradition, wants to find Jess’s killer, suspecting that the thing that killed Mary is the same thing that killed Jess. This obsession drives him throughout the first two seasons.

Sam’s motivation in the pilot is laid out clearly: he has to make it back to Stanford on time for his interview for law school. While it’s normal for regular people, it's about as far from the Winchester normal as can be, and that’s what Sam likes about it. It’s normal, it’s wonderbread, it’s safe. It’s freshly baked cookies and a tab at the only bar on campus. It’s your girlfriend in a maid outfit on Halloween, which you still don’t celebrate because it reminds you of what you gave up to be there. It’s getting a 174 on the LSATs but not telling your family because you don’t talk to them anymore, and you haven’t for years. It’s fine.

And then it all comes crashing down, and Sam’s motivation changes. He’s the hero accepting his journey while grieving the loss of the most significant person in his life since he ditched his family at 18 to live in the world instead of saving it from the sidelines. He’s the one our story hinges on, and it’s his reactions we live and die by. When Mary dies, we hardly know her. We don’t know John, either, so it’s hard to gauge how broken up we should be by her death. While I wouldn’t say we know Jess necessarily, we do know Sam, so when he grieves we grieve. The framework through which we view all of these events is Sam’s perspective, even if we do see Dean without Sam. I’m pointing this out because it’s important to know who we sympathise with most, and whose story a narrative is trying to tell. What exactly the narrative is saying is completely dependent on who is saying it.

One of Dean’s defining traits is that he’s great at getting laid. In the original pitch, Dean was supposed to be covered in tattoos and smoking like a James Dean-type. Nevermind that James Dean was queer, as is Dean from On The Road, the character the eldest winchester is named after. Dean chases tail like he’s a dog chasing bumpers, and he’s attractive and charismatic so it works out well for him. He doesn’t take it hard when a woman rejects him, which is something that a lot of men need to learn.

Sera Gamble, staff writer, executive producer, and showrunner of seasons 6 and 7, said about Dean:

“Dean always has a great comeback line, so it’s always fun to write him. Dean’s introduction to us in the pilot was him hitting on his brother’s girlfriend, specifically pointing out her boobs.”

But this is not all Dean is. He’s first and foremost Sam’s protector. In Dean’s second scene of the pilot, Dean is shown to rescue his brother from their house as it burns down, carrying him out of harm’s way. Dean, as the older brother, knows it’s his job to protect his younger sibling. It’s been drilled into him since he was four years old that he is supposed to protect Sam above everything, even when Sam ditched their family. Before the pilot, Dean and Sam hadn’t spoken in two years, and Sam hadn’t seen John in four. But by the end of the episode we realise that Dean hasn’t given up the mantle of protector. He rescues Sam from the building where Jess is being burned alive. First and foremost, Dean will always protect Sam.

At 26, Dean has seen things and done things that no one should see or do. Where Sam is sullen and quiet, Dean is loud and brash, getting into trouble, jumping headfirst into situations he shouldn’t be in. The situations he shouldn’t be in include: a crime scene, a river, a motel room, a haunted shack. Places he should be include the police station, because Dean winchester is many things and one of them is a felon.

We can’t find ourselves sympathising too much with Dean as a main character just yet because we don’t have any attachment to his weaknesses. Yes, Mary died, but she is such a non-character it doesn’t register (unless of course you’ve been through a similar tragedy, then sympathise away). Yes, he loves his car and his guns and his leather jacket, but we find out later that they are handmedowns from John. Dean’s personality is a carefully curated list of acceptable likes and dislikes, inherited from the abusive, alcoholic father John is to him and the woman, wife and mother he thinks of Mary as. In the pilot, Dean is the lovable scamp, but his desperation is lying in wait beneath the mask of finding his father. He wants his fambily back, but more than that, he wants his fambily safe.

We see Sam and Dean’s strengths play out through the episode. In their first encounter with the Woman in White, she possesses the Impala and drives it towards them. They both jump off the bridge, but while Sam clings on, Dean hurls himself into the river. Thus the death-defying stunt ends up a funny gag as Dean drags himself out of the muck, and Sam is positioned as the smarter brother. I mean, he got into Stanford, right? so he’s smarter, right???

Another moment establishes the bulk of their characters in two lines. Sam says, “What I said earlier, about Mum and Dad, I’m sorry,” and Dean replies, “No chick-flick moments.” Within this simple exchange lies the heart of their differences: Sam wants Dean to be okay. Dean would rather push Sam away than offer up his feelings like a charcuterie platter for anyone to pick apart.

From what we know of John, he is a man obsessed. Sam reveals that their whole lives have been based around trying to find the thing that killed Mary. John trained his sons to be hunters from an indeterminately young age, after finding out about the supernatural from various side characters and piecing the rest together himself. From how the other hunters talk about John, he is a master in skill and execution, and Dean and Sam take after him. Sam is smart and coordinated enough to be good at everything, and Dean is naturally gifted in intellect, tactical skill, and weapons. Together they make a formidable team. By the time the show really gets going, John, Sam and Dean are legends in the hunting community. Dean comments in a later episode that he’s famous, and other characters point out the same thing. Characters introduced later know who they are before the boys know who the other characters are and what their connection to John is.

The implications of John raising his sons are hunters are multitudinal. Because Sam and Dean have been raised this way, they have saved a lot of people that otherwise would have died. But it’s at their own expense. They can never live normal lives, and even when they settle down in season 8 at the Men of Letters bunker, the echoes of their loneliness and isolation are still present. That’s why it’s not enough to focus only on Sam and Dean, or introduce more characters just to kill them off, because the brothers are fundamentally lonely and isolated. And the point of any story is to have your characters progress (although in the case of a short story, it’s to reveal something about a character), so when they start out a certain way they need to have outgrown that stasis that they were trapped in by the end of the series. Sam deserved to build a life for himself in the hunting world, with another hunter and/or the queen of hell, making connections and a home for other hunters to stay in and, as one tumblr user says, a monster rehabilitation centre. Dean deserved to outgrow his trauma and simply grow as a character instead of being stuck as an depressed alcoholic with anger issues.

On the surface of the show, Dean is supposed to be Han Solo and Sam Luke Skywalker. But the first thing we learn about Sam to do with his family is that he left them as soon as he finished high school and had a chance to escape. Dean, however, stayed loyal to John and continued hunting. This dynamic of Sam rebelling against the the God figure of their father and Dean’s dependency on their father’s approval continues into the fifth season and parallels the storyline of the angel Lucifer rebelling and his brother Michael staying loyal to God. It certainly is an interesting dynamic, which I  just realising as I type this paragraph was repeated in my own family. Me, the youngest rebelling against my abusive father around the time I started watching this show while my older brother continued to live with him, in squalor and destitution. There were no Gardens of Eden in our family, only a hell of our father’s making. My dad loves muscle cars and heavy metal, too, and I haven’t spoken to him in three years.

The motel room they find John occupying before he takes off is something you’d see in a serial killer’s lair. There are articles printed out and stuck to the wall, a line of salt encircling the room, various talismans and charms, and information on the woman in white. From what we see, John lives up to his legendary status, putting together a pattern of strange deaths and disappearances over the course of 20 years for his sons to eventually solve. But we already know by now that he puts hunting above his own children, and it becomes clear as the episode goes on that he is sending them out on hunts that he himself either can’t or won’t finish. He disappears and leads them on a proverbial and literal ghost hunt as they chase him across the country.

The universe of Supernatural started with monsters but encompasses a lot more than that. Kripke’s vision, which personally I think he executed really well, was small town Americana meets monster of the week. It’s ghosts on highways, cannibals in forests, and spirits in lakes. It’s a possessed car on a bridge aiming straight for our protagonists. It’s gas station junk food and driving 16 hours across multiple states on a hunch. It’s sleeping in your car and brushing your teeth at the side of the road because you couldn’t afford a hotel for the night. It’s grit meets slime. It’s real and fantastical at the same time. When I say this show activates the part of my mind that lives for road trips across a barren country through miles and miles of desert, I’m not lying. I used to love road trips as a kid, just staring out the window with my gameboy in my hand and Alanis Morisette’s Jagged Little Pill album in my discman. I long for those days.

The lore is one of the most interesting things about the show. in most episodes, the characters are seen to flick through physical books to gather information about what they’re fighting, which seems to take hours if not days. At one point I’m pretty sure that their father figure Bobby digitises his library, but then that’s never brought up again, so maybe I imagined it. There are hundreds of different creatures throughout the seasons, including some the show made up (Jefferson Starships in season 6), others they’ve taken from folklore and legends and put their own spin on. The interesting ways they present creatures, some pure evil, others sympathetic, is one of the reasons I loved this show from the beginning. All I ever wanted to write was urban fantasy, and this show presented it in an accessible way. I grew up in small towns with populations of less than a thousand people, so watching the characters go through small towns, back roads, truck stops and service stations in the middle of nowhere just hit me right where it hurts.

The lore of the woman in white is thus: a husband cheats on his wife, and the wife, in a moment of insanity, murders her children. When she comes back as a vengeful spirit, she finds men who have been unfaithful and murders them. The character of Constance hitch hikes along the road waiting for men to pick her up, and even if they haven’t been unfaithful she seduces them before she kills them. Spirits are shown to have special powers: they can move objects, wield weapons, and kill with their hands or minds. They can also appear and disappear at will, making them hard to fight.

As with all episodes of tv shows, the problem they face is something out of the ordinary. The Woman in White is a ghost, something they’ve hunted before with ease. Sidenote: this show can be summed up as Pru from Ride or Die podcast says, “the Winchester school of boys who fight ghosts real good.” While a normal ghost would be taken out by salting and burning their bones, laying Constant Welch to rest isn’t that easy. Before they can find her bones to burn, she appears in the Impala while Sam is driving. But Sam figures out a plan: drive the Impala through the house she can’t go home to where her children are lying in wait to drag her into the underworld. And the monsters only get more interesting from there.

Now that the show has finished, it's interesting to examine what it could have been. We know what it is: a 15 year long experiment in family dysfunction and queerbaiting. We know it’s about choices and free will. But what could it have been? It could have been more than family dysfunction. Throughout the entire show, the premise has always been about two brothers, and that’s to its detriment, as there’s only so many times they can rehash the premise of brothers betraying each other. The showrunners were so bent on keeping the show about Sam and Dean that they neglected the other storylines that could have proved more interesting and killed off all the characters that were a threat to their dynamic. It could have been about characters becoming their own creators in stepping outside the narrative, usurping their writers and choosing love instead of violence. It could have stayed about found families, instead of focusing solely on Sam and Dean in the last episode, which undid all of the groundwork they’d laid out in the last 7 or so seasons.

But what we have is what we get, and while the show falls down in some respects, especially with regards to its treatment of people of colour and the queer community, it is still a show that I’ve loved since the Howard administration, and something that has changed and improved my life in numerous ways. If I hadn’t started writing Supernatural fanfiction, I wouldn’t have majored in writing, and I wouldn’t have the experience to write four books and some novel length fanfiction. Supernatural has inspired me so much over the years, and I will always considered it kismet that it entered my life. I know others feel the same, and you only have to step into the fandom for a day to realise the impact that Supernatural has on people all over the world. Few shows have had both the gall and opportunity to shape television in the way that Supernatural has and do the things that it has done. Falling in love with it again at a time when I was outgrowing a previous hyperfixation, feeling lost and adrift, and burnt out from writing 150,000 words in the middle of a pandemic, has been extremely serendipitous, and I can’t wait to dissect every single thing about this show.

You can find the show at holyhellpod on Instagram and tumblr, and patreon dot com slash holyhellpod. I’ll talk to you soon.

[Outro music]

#holyhellpod #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #<25 mins #transcripts

[fallenandthefaithless]

I Can Never Go Home

Supernatural’s pilot episode centres around the deaths of three women; Mary Winchester, Jessica Moore and Constance Welch. Mary and Jessica’s deaths bookend the episode and directly affect our heroes, Sam and Dean, in some capacity. Constance’s death leads her to haunt the episode, filling in the spaces between Mary and Jess and raises concerns about the family home.

Mary’s death at the start of the episode shows the destruction of the Winchester family home both literally and figuratively. While Sam’s nursery burns, John, Dean and Sam are left on the outside. All they can do is watch as the family house burns and they are shown to be sitting in the dark, out in the cold. The invasion of the supernatural in their home leads to John’s knowledge of the supernatural which is something he can’t ignore. This inspires him to follow his desire for revenge and as such, none of the Winchester boys are able to settle down and find a home. They have seen through the looking glass and are pushed to living on the edge of society. They hunt monsters, use fake ID’s and live out of a car.

Jessica’s death bookends the episode and acts as a reminder to Sam of the truth that is out there and the dangers it poses to the idyllic home. Her death burns the apartment she and Sam shared together just as Mary’s death damaged the Winchester family home. This sends Sam spiralling back into the hunting life. Having been forcibly reminded of the horrors that linger in the darkness Sam leaves the “apple-pie life” he’d trying to build behind and instead joins his brothers back on the fringes of society.

In between these two deaths lies the case of the Woman in White. Constance Welch is stuck haunting the side of a lonely highway, convincing men to drive her home. However, once she reaches the ruins of her family home she whispers sadly that she “can never go home”. While the supernatural itself didn’t invade her home, Constance still finds herself trapped in the supernatural world just like Sam and Dean. They travel along these lonely highways, especially in the first three seasons, and are left on the outside looking in on the happy family home.

Constance’s desire to return home is shown to be unreachable and she becomes the supernatural entity that invades the home as Sam and Dean watch on as she is dragged to Hell. This aligns with the imagery of Azazel coming for Mary and Brady for Jess - they’re both demons, creatures from Hell. 

Of course, this isn’t the last we see of Constance. She returns at the start of season 15 and at the time there was a lot of meta about what she represented. Most people, myself included, came to the conclusion that she was there to represent the scorned lover and was aligned with Dean. However, having rewatched 1x01 and looking at her from this angle, I now think she was also brought back as a  reminder of the broken home. Over the last few seasons Sam and Dean have been assembling their own family in the bunker. In 14x13 when John says that he always wanted Dean to get out and have a family, Dean replies that he “has a family”. It may not be the apple-pie life they had before the supernatural invaded their lives but it’s theirs. And then Mary is killed and then Jack and Dean fights with Cas. Their happy family crumbles around them and in the wreckage Constance Welch breaks free of hell. Constance’s desire for a home out of reach mirrors the situation Sam and Dean find themselves in at the beginning of season 15. They once more lose their home and it’s no wonder that the next couple of cases don’t end well - a child considered a monster and killed leaving behind grieving parents (15x04) and three best friends torn apart by monsters (15x05). In this case, the supernatural being that invaded the home was the original creator. Chuck’s presence in the bunker shakes the foundations of the family apart, an action he repeats in 15x04 when he destroys Becky’s family.

That night in 1983 saw the monstrous enter the Winchester family home and they were unable to ignore the truth and were instead left on the outside. There’s a reason Jess didn’t know about the supernatural - she was a symbol of that apple-pie life that Sam was so desperate for. If he had told her the truth that would have meant acknowledging the supernatural which would have shattered the image of a happy home.

The Winchester family cannot truly go home until the supernatural that invaded their home all those years is truly laid to rest. For that to happen Chuck needs to be removed from the story, to let go of the story which is full of monsters that he loves (15x04) and instead let the characters enjoy the happy family home that Becky, and us, want for them.

#spn meta #spn thoughts #spn 1x01 #spn 15x04 #spn 15x05 #spn speculation #chuck shurley #spn season 15 #god was never on your side

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

A Woman of Letters (Getting a Feel for Sam Winchester) - Chapter 21

Summary:  You’ve just opened an occult bookstore in Lebanon, Kansas, when you fall for a tall, handsome customer…literally. You soon find out that there’s more to the world than you ever suspected, including you. Discovering your heritage puts you directly in a witch’s crosshairs, though, so the Winchesters offer to take you in and teach you how to protect yourself. As you discover your own family history with the supernatural and your own hidden talents, you can’t help but wish a certain brother was as excited about your interest as you are.

Total length: 43 chapters, 70,247 words - Read on AO3 - Series masterlist

Chapter word count: 1136 words

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Canon-level angst and violence

Sam

While Y/N was searching online for the stupid Supernatural books, Sam watched Dean take out his phone and make a call.

“Got a question for ya, Crowley. Back when Lucifer was topside, there was a demon taking out hunters and making it look like a heart attack. Do you happen to know who it was?” Dean paused, and then grimaced. “No, I’m not going to make her ask you…. Crowley? Crowley!” Dean stared at his phone in anger and growled. “Dammit.”

“Give me the phone, Dean. I’ll do it.” Y/N spoke quietly, but firmly.

“No way, Y/N. He’s just being a pain in the ass. We’ll find out some other way.” Dean put his phone in his pocket. Sam felt a stab of fear in his chest when Y/N smacked Dean and held her hand out.

“Give me the phone, Dean.” Sam watched Dean stare at Y/N for a long moment, then take his phone out of his pocket and hand it over.

“Dean! What the hell?” Sam practically yelled at Dean. Dean looked at Sam with defeat in his eyes.

“Crowley likes her, and I have a feeling this isn’t as bad a thing as we might think it is.” Dean nodded towards Y/N, who was looking up Crowley’s contact in his phone. Sam watched in amazement as Y/N started the call, set it to speaker phone, and set the phone on the table in front of her.

“I wasn’t expecting to get a call back so quickly, Squirrel. She must really have you wrapped around her little finger. How does Moose feel about that?” Sam grimaced and snorted loudly.

“It’s me, Crowley, and I have you on speaker phone.”

“Well, hello, darling! It’s nice to hear your lovely voice. What can I do for you, my dear?”

“You can answer Dean’s question. There was a demon trying to curry favor with Lucifer by taking out hunters and making it look like a heart attack. Do you have any idea who that might have been?” Sam saw Y/N’s hands shake, and he resisted the urge to reach across the table and hold them.

“As a matter of fact, I do. But, I can’t help wonder why your boys are interested in such old news?” Sam’s heart ached as he watched Y/N take a breath to steady herself.

“Because we have reason to believe he killed my uncle.”

“Ah. I see.” Crowley was quiet for a moment. “Well, there’s no need for worry. That particular demon was killed quite some time ago. If you want, you can ask Moose all about it. I heard he’s the one that did the dirty deed, in the end.” Y/N’s eyes flew to Sam’s, and Sam just shook his head in confusion.

“Who was it, Crowley?” Sam hoped his voice sounded more even than it felt.

“It was your old pal, Brady.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he was back in that alley for a moment, looking at the face of his former best friend. The demon that carried out the order to kill Jess. Sam ran a hand over his face and then through his hair. Sam was brought back to the present by Crowley’s voice. “He did impress Lucifer by taking out hunters so quietly that not even other hunters suspected his involvement. That’s what got him the promotion to stable boy for the horsemen.” Sam felt Y/N’s eyes on him, and he struggled to close the door to his inner library room. The book titled “JESS” was propping the door open, though, and wouldn’t budge. Sam got up and left the library, hearing Y/N thank Crowley before hanging up.

When he got to the kitchen, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, drank it down in one go, and then grabbed a second one. He sat down at the table, took a long pull from the second beer, and set it down in front of him. He picked at the label for a moment, and then put his head in his hands, covering his face. The door to his inner library was wide open, and Jess’ book was sitting on the table, pages fluttering in the breeze. How she laughed, how she kissed, how she made those damn cookies for him the night she died. And Brady. Hours spent trying to get him back on track, to not lose everything. Sam imagined what the interaction between Jess and Brady would have looked like the night he killed her. Tears leaked between his fingers, and he wiped them away, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. He felt the slight buzz from the beer start to settle in his muscles and he sighed. After emptying the second beer bottle, he put his head down in his arms.

He thought he heard footsteps, but didn’t raise his head. He felt someone sit down next to him, but he kept his head down. When he felt Y/N’s arms sliding around him, her body close to his, her head resting on his shoulder, more tears squeezed out of his eyes in spite of his fight to stop them. Part of him wanted to give in, accept comfort from Y/N, and feel the warmth she seemed to be trying to give to him. Doing that would lead to him falling for her even harder and make him want to get in between her and Dean. Y/N rubbed his back, and he struggled to regain his composure. Taking a deep breath, he closed Jess’s book in his mind, along with a new book he found with Y/N’s name on it, and put them back on the shelf. He pictured himself picking up the other books that were strewn around and carefully putting them away. As he was about to close the door behind him, Y/N spoke.

“Please don’t.” Sam paused. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m asking you not to.” Sam lifted his head and looked at Y/N, her head still resting on his shoulder. As he looked at her face, he felt the room shake behind him. He turned and took her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin and rubbing her back as she had rubbed his. Taking a deep breath, he quietly closed the door in his mind.

“Thanks, but…it’s for the best. For both of us.” He kissed her forehead, and then released her, getting up and heading to his bedroom. When he got there, he shut the door quietly behind him, then opened the door to his inner library. Cas said it needs to air out, and right now, it really needs to air out. Sam flopped down on his bed and let his mind wander until he fell asleep to dreams of Jess and Madison and Amelia and Y/N.

#incoherent babbling by mrswhozeewhatsis #mrswhozeewhatsis writes #WOL - GaFfSW #sam x reader #sam fluff #sam angst #sam smut #sam winchester #sam winchester fan fiction #sam winchester fan fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic

[queeniewritesce]

Shall We Dance 6/?

Lucy lazily opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light feeling the room, streaming from the beautiful arch windows near her side of the bed. Her head throbbed a little, she felt sore in places that hadn’t been used in quite some time, and she admonished herself for not taking some ibuprofen before falling asleep last night.

She tried to move but a firm hand gripped her waist, keeping her in place, digits digging the soft skin of her tummy. She turned her head, carefully to not worsen her headache, and regarded the sleeping man by her side; apparently, they were both stomach sleepers, arms under the pillow type of people and she wondered if that was uncomfortable for him, as he was not lacking on that department. Like, at all. She giggled quietly at her teenager mentality, studying the beautiful profile of Chris’s face, fingers itching to get closer, to lose themselves in the soft fur covering his jaw, trace the fullness of the lips that had driven her crazy the night before.

Ghost memories heated her skin as she slid out of the bed, padding softly to the bathroom, her thighs protesting the burn his beard imposed upon them, the sensation not dissimilar to the friction the pole created when learning a new move, but much more pleasant. She washed her face and used his moisturizer, the mirror showing her the purple marks he left on her neck and the top of her breasts, hair in disarray, and a small grin graced her face. She had been loved hard, and she reveled in every minute of it.

Lucy glanced at Chris’ sleeping form, grabbing his folded sweater and her socks and quietly slipping from the room, Dodger following behind her.

“Morning Dodger,” the stairs were cold on her bare feet as she descended. She makes quick work of his sweater, smelling the collar and folding the cuffs. She pulls on the thick socks while scanning the living room, locating her purse on a side table and to find a hair tie, tying a messy bun on top of her head. She grabbed her phone, opening the small bottle of Advil she always kept with her to grab two pills and walked back to the kitchen, where Dodger sat patiently by the door. “Listen, I’m not too keen on the idea of the alarm going off when I open that door, so I’m really sorry, but there won’t be any visits outside till your dad wakes up, alright?”

She could’ve sworn the dog ruffed before a small whine escaped him. Lucy spotted the treat jar on the island and gave the pooch two small ones as a peace offering. Satisfied, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the same stool she had occupied yesterday, unlocking her phone. She sends Penny a quick message saying she won’t be back till later because Chris is taking her to one of the museums and snorts when her sister’s reply is a bunch of eggplant emojis. Siobhan is next and she asks about Morris, quickly retelling what happens without naming Chris and promising to call soon. There’s a message from JP enquiring if Garret’s plan was to propose on Christmas’ Day, and she thinks it’s odd, ‘why wouldn’t he ask Garret directly instead of asking me?’, she ponders and decides to call her brother later. Her last new message is from Sunny, inviting Lucy to stop by whenever she has the chance. She replies explaining they’ll arrive early on the 23rd, maybe she could have dinner with the family that night.

Opening Instagram, she clicks the plus sign, it’s a habit to always post something about the latest football game she attends; a picture of everyone she’s with, a few words about the game and when the Patriots were involved, a sarcastic remark about Tom Brady. She scrolls through her photos and it suddenly hits her she can’t share the incredible day she had yesterday. Not only all pictures feature Chris, either smiling to the camera or in the background, but he’s also in every quip and every joke she can think of writing. Sure, her account was private, but when was the last time she weeded out her followers? She sighs and closes the app, adding the task to her mental to-do list.

“I was about to file for my missing sweater, but it looks so much better on you than it does on me.” Chris’s voice is right behind her and she jumps a little, but she smiles and spins the stool around to look at him. “Even when paired with those goddamn awful socks.”

“I have cold feet.” Her eyes follow him around and she licks her lips at the sight of the half-naked man turning on the coffee maker, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and she is almost certain that is the only piece of clothing he’s wearing.

“I kinda noticed that.” He pats Dodger on the head before disarming the alarm and opens the kitchen door, a very happy dog now bouncing on the fresh snow outside. “You might want to have that checked, I believe they’ve frozen some time ago and you just haven’t noticed.” Chris grins at her indignant face and she scowls at him, trying to elaborate a good comeback when he invades her personal space. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

He’s pressed right at her side when he speaks those last words, tilting her head back and kissing her soundly, the hands on her neck keeping her in place, and does she really need to breathe because she just wants to kiss him forever. Her whole body awakens, his touch moving like lightning on her skin. Her palms sprawl over his chest, fingers combing the short hairs covering the muscles and she’s delighted at the small moans coming from him. Sadly yes, they do need air to live and so they part, foreheads touching, fingers caressing and smiles on their faces.

“I believe it’ll be, yes.” She eyes him as he draws on her skin, following the pattern of the cherry tree branches on her arm, reaching the last flower perched near her inner elbow and she tenses. As wonderful as he is, they barely know each other, the scars on her forearm and wrists are part of the demons that plague her dreams, ones that she’s not willing to discuss. She feels better when his fingers skip the scars, going straight to her palms and tangle themselves with her own, bringing her hand up to kiss the knuckles.

“How about some breakfast?” He offers while his mouth skims over her hands. “There’s this great place right around the corner that serves breakfast till 3 p.m., we can walk over there and get my car afterward, go to the Museum?”

“Breakfast food for lunch?” her stomach grumbles at the mention of food. “I was gonna make a joke about it being so very un-Hollywood of you, but as you heard it, parts of me are already on board with the plan. But I do need coffee first.”

“As milady wishes.” He goes back to find two cups in the higher cabinet, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and setting it all on the island in front of her before seating by her side, “How are you feeling today?”

“I woke up with a bit of a headache, a little sore too, but I took some Advil when I came down, I’ll be right as new in a few hours.” She rests her chin on her hands watching as he scoots the chair closer to hers, knees touching as he runs slow circles on the small of her back.

“I’m sorry about the soreness baby, but damn, it was a tight fit, I almost blew my load when I first entered you, you felt so good.”

He says it like he’s commenting on the weather, not of giving her the best sex of her life. Her cheeks felt warm; the man had no filter, did he?

“It’s been a while since I last fooled around with anyone, it’s been mostly me and my hand for the past twenty months.” Apparently, she had no qualms talking about it with him either. Lucy felt at easy with Chris, from the first time they looked at each other she felt like a missing piece of herself finally found its way home. How would she keep going after today? She shook her head to clear her head, she wouldn’t think about that now. “And you're going around with a large concealed weapon in those pants. How do you get past TSA with that?”

He laughs with a deep bass guffaw, slapping his knee.

“Wanna give me a pat down, Officer Seabrook?” a waggle of his eyebrows had her chuckling before he got serious. “But almost two years baby, are New Yorkers that blind? You look smoking hot, do not give me that look, ‘cuz you do. I’d be following you around like a lost puppy for that ass alone.”

“There were plenty of opportunities, it’s just… It never felt right, I guess? I…” she stopped, unsure about giving up too much of her past. What was with this guy and the need to know all her secrets? And what was up with her and wanting to tell them all to him, hoping he wouldn’t run away screaming?

“Then I’m extremely glad it felt right yesterday. Because it felt right to me too, the moment you walked into that room? I was a goner. You had me at hello and all that shit.” He grinned at her over his cup, but she could tell his eyes were studying her and at some point, they would come back to this conversation.

“And all that shit uh? You’re such a romantic. Wait, the fact that you even know that the movie is awesome enough. It’s one of my favorites”

“Figures you’d have the hots for Tom Cruise being angsty as fuck” He laughed and batted away the packet of Splenda she threw at him.

“Oh shush, he’s not angsty, he’s had a revelation and it’s acting upon it. Plus, the ‘show me the money scene’ is already movie history.”

Chris lets Dodger back inside before grabbing the coffee pot, and he sits facing, a sheepish grin on his face while he poured himself a cup.

“So, if you had to choose, wine or coffee?” he asks as he prepares his drink; three sugars, a splash of creamer.

“Coffee, no doubts about it. I love wine but by this point in my life, I have coffee running in my veins instead of blood. There’s no way I could give the liquid gold up.” She pours half a cup, skipping the sugar and filling the other half of the cup with the creamer.

“What the hell,” he eyes her cup suspiciously, “that is not coffee baby, that’s an insult to anyone who drinks coffee.”

“Says the person who puts enough sugar in his cup to rotten teeth.” She scoffs before taking a long drink. “Delicious.”

“Oh my god, you’re one of those girls.” Chris grabs his chest, pretending it hurts. “You order a PSL at Starbucks.” He finishes with a low, horrified voice, whipping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Lucy was glad she wasn’t drinking when he finishes because she laughs so hard, she snorts.

“One hot, venti, two-shot, almond milk, no whip pumpkin spice latte. I’m a basic bitch who loves her PSL, so sue me.” She shrugs and brings her cup to her lips, sipping slowly.

“I bet the barista knows your name and draws a smile on the damn cup too.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled over the brim of the cup, giving a little shrug. “I knew it!”

“There’s a store on the same block of my apartment and it’s on the way to the subway, they’ve been there since I moved to New York, of course they know me by name by now.” Pouring more coffee into her mug, she acknowledges, “This is absolutely delicious though, it’s Hawaiian Kona coffee, right?”

“Color me impressed.” Chris grins, nodding his head. “It’s one of the few things I splurge on, I have the company send a few beans bags every month to wherever I am staying. I refuse to drink the goo they serve at most places when I’m doing press for a movie.”

“You’re a coffee diva.” She states, amused by his confession.

“Some people hate green M&Ms, I hate bad coffee.” He concedes laughing. “I even provide the coffee, it’s not like they have to go and buy it, you know? Just follow the instructions or let my assistant make it and I’m a happy guy.”

“What is that like, having an assistant?” Lucy glances at Chris, untrimmed beard, mussed hair, no shirt, ratty sweats and barefoot. Incredibly good looking, but more of guy-next-door than a movie star, she almost forgot he was more than Garret’s hot best friend.  Their worlds differed so much, she couldn’t imagine having someone on her beck and call, or worst, a publicist. That gave her pause and she pursed her lips in thought while he responded.

“It’s weird at first, someone controlling your schedule, telling you where you need to be and when. But you get used to it so fast, especially since they seem to know exactly what you need and they deliver it, you know? Almost like a superpower, they learn how to read you and anticipate your moods.” Chris pondered and looked away embarrassed when he continued. “It’s… convenient. If you’re not careful you can get lost inside the Hollywood lifestyle, get jaded by the lights and you end up forgetting who you truly are. It almost happened to me once and I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. It’s one of the reasons Tobias stays in Los Angeles whenever I’m here, I can take care of myself, I can be Chris.”

His words reassured her, but one question lingered. He was famous, he had an image to protect. As Samuel clearly reminded her, most people only saw her as a glamourized, overweight, stripper. She turns to face him, “Do I have to sign an NDA? Would pictures of the two of us together be bad for you?”

“What, Lucy, NO.” he shakes his head startled. “First of all, NDAs are ridiculous, they rarely work, I know that first hand. Maybe if you’re into some hard kink sex and doing it with random people, then okay, an NDA would be ideal, but I don’t ask people who I sleep with to sign them. And no, a picture of us together wouldn’t be bad for my image, it might stir some pots because some people believe they can dictate who I date…” Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together. “I know we’re still getting to know each other but one thing you should know is that I rarely give a fuck to what the media or the general public think of me. I keep my people close to my vest, I don’t talk about friends and girlfriends in interviews, but that’s because it isn’t anybody’s business what I do on my personal time. But I won’t shy away from being around someone I care about either. If a picture leaks or if they follow me when I’m with someone, I set my publicist on their cases because they are assholes, but the one thing I won’t do is to acknowledge their presence or react to them. It’s what they want, and I learned to tune them out.”

“I’m sorry doing what you love comes with so much bullshit involved.” Her thumb rubbed circles on his palm, in a soothing manner, her free hand combing his tousled hair. “Just so you know, if you decide a week from now that maybe I should sign one of those ridiculous things, I’d do it.”

“Thank you. The fact that you offered is enough.” Chris leaned into her hand, almost purring from the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp. He closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and Lucy wants to save this forever, a perfect reminder of their time together.

He tastes of coffee when she kisses him, molding her mouth over his, dragging her lips sweetly across his own. She tastes like cream when his tongue touches hers, light touches that entice her, coaxing her lips to follow his when he retreats, seeking more, needing more.

The whiskers on his face tease her skin when he drags a line from her mouth to her neck, nipping hard at the pulse point, sucking the skin to sooth the bite. She gasps at how pleasurable the tiny amount of pain feels, fingers splashed on his hair, pulling him back till she devours his mouth, taking the lead.

His hands are everywhere, cupping her neck to hold her in place, squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts, gripping her thighs, finally circling her waist to bring her closer to him, hiking up legs over his, making the sweater she’s wearing ride up, his eyes popping when he realizes she’s not wearing anything under it.

“Such a naughty girl you are baby.” Chris murmurs against her mouth with a grin.

“I’m full of surprises.” She pulls the string securing the pants and it pools on the V of his abdomen, his cock springing upwards to rest against his belly. “I see I’m not the only one not wearing underwear.” Fingernails rake on the hard muscles of his abdomen while her teeth do the same to his collarbone, biting his neck. A thumb grazes the silky skin of his head and he twitches underneath her palm, his soft moans delighting her.

Her sweater is halfway up her body now, a large hand cupping the globes of her buttocks, while the other is busy massaging a hard nipple. Ripples of hot lava dances over her with every pass of his finger.

“I love how responsive you are, how you look ready to cum just with me playing with your tits.” Chris lowers his head to take a hard peak in his mouth when Lucy hears the low rumble of his stomach, making her raise an eyebrow at him. He ignores it and shushes her with a kiss, slating his mouth over her giggling lips, bringing her back to the moment.

A second, louder rumble follows. There is a pause and their eyes open, green meeting blue, mouths pressed together turning to grins before they are both laughing.

“I guess I’m hungry.” He remarks.

“When was the last time you ate something?” a hand smooths down her sweater when she stands up.

“I had a pretty nice snack last night.” A wiggle of his brows had her punching him on the shoulder as she narrows her eyes at him, still laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re such a man Christopher.”

“Glad you noticed babe.” He embraces her, kissing her shoulder. “Come on, we can shower together and save time.”

..__..__..__..__..

Showering together did not save time, she remarks when Chris closes the door behind him. It’s almost noon when they finally leave his house, all bundled up, gloved hands clasped together. There was no snow right now, but it’s supposed to start back late afternoon, so the plan was to be back home before that.

Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. Would he drop her off at Garret’s house after their outing (she didn’t dare call it a date) or would they go back to his place together? Sure, she understood the concept of one-night stands; she’d had her fair share of them but spending the day with one of them was never part of the deal, they had never asked, always leaving her house before the sun was up. In the beginning, she didn’t care about them leaving, her walls kept her safe, away from heartbreak. She had given herself away twice before and she had the scars, emotional and physical, to remind her not try it again.

Being single wasn’t something that bothered Lucy like it had bothered Penny or Siobhan and, unlike her sister and her best friend, she had welcomed it, focusing her energy and passion into dancing. She was proud of what she had accomplished in the last twelve years, the dance studio was thriving, she had made a name of herself and was now giving back to the community as much as she could.

Yet she now yearned for more. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that happened but somewhere in the last six months the feeling snuck up on her and was now part of her daily routine, accompanying her from dusk to dawn. She pushed it aside, tried to bury it under her work but, no matter how late she stayed in her studio, how hard she danced, how tired she was, the loneliness that greeted her when she arrived home made her ache.

She wanted what JP had with Marianna. She wanted what she saw between Penny and Garret.

She had no idea how to get it.

Her eyes glanced over at the man walking beside her. Chris was funny, charming, interested in what she had to say and what she did for a living. It didn’t hurt the whole package was contained inside a sinful body, and boy, did he know how to use that body. She shook her head. This was a one-time thing, it’s not like he would want to see her again.

“We’re here,” Chris announced with a muffled voice, concealed beneath the heavy scarf covering his mouth, pointing to the red stone building that occupied the corner of the block they just turned. “The food here is amazing, you can’t go wrong with anything really.”

Lucy looks up before they enter and sees a neon sign with Mike’s City Diner written on it. The place had an old school vibe, a red, black and white theme that reminded her of the diner in Cooperstown, the one she went to almost every day after school for milkshakes and grilled cheese, or for family breakfast during the weekend. She’s about to ask if he comes here often when his name is called by a pretty brunette wearing an apron with the diner’s logo on it.

“Hi Chris,” the woman is all teeth and pink lipstick when she winks at him. Lucy tries to not pay attention to the way the hand, not coffee pot squeezes his biceps in hello.

“Hi, Corinne. Is my table occupied?” he questioned, removing his winter gear.

“It is, but the booth next to it is free, if you seat turned to the back wall, I’m sure no one will bother you. We’re past the rush hour anyway.” She grabs a couple of menus from the counter and leads them to the very back of the restaurant, away from the windows. “I’ll bring some fresh coffee for you.”

Chris helps Lucy out of her coat and mentions for her to get in first. He slides next to her and wraps an arm around her back, pulling her closer.

“I take you’re a regular?” She asked while reading over the menu.

“Yeah, I come almost every day when I’m not at my mom’s house. I’m an okay cook, but breakfast food is my favorite and I rather not screw it up.” He nods, not even looking up at the menu. “Very kind people, delicious food, most patrons are either engrossed on their food or too deep in conversation to notice me, which is a plus.”

“I grew up going to a very similar diner back home. My friends and I would spend whole afternoons at Patty’s, doing homework and playing the arcade games he’d kept in the back room. He was the sweetest guy, always looking out for the town’s kids, running fundraisers for a neighbor in need… And the food was so, so good.” Wistful eyes looked around the place, taking in the decor and the warm way the waiters would talk to the customers.

Corinne approached with a smoking pot of coffee, sashaying her mint skirt as she did. She poured Chris’s coffee and points the pot to Lucy in question. “Want some, sugar?”

“Please.”

“Alright, you guys know what you want?” she placed the pot on their table, whisking out a white pad.

Chris signaled Lucy to go first and she orders cinnamon walnut waffles with a side fruit, saying no to the meat.

“I’ll have the Dynamic Duo with bacon and scrambled eggs. And she wants cream, lots of it.” Chris says with a teasing smile.

“I can drink my coffee black, you know?” Lucy huffs after Corinne leaves them alone.

“Yes, but do you like it?” He gives her a pointed look, a lone eyebrow raised at her.

That was so unfair, who could resist that damn eyebrow?

“No,” she answers with a pout.

He laughs and steals a quick kiss. “So, no meat?”

“No meat. I can’t call myself a vegetarian because I love cheese and eggs and still indulge in some seafood, but it’s been almost ten years since I decided to stop eating red meat, eight since I last ate chicken.”

“Impressive. Hemsworth is thinking about adopting a plant-based regimen on our next bulk up. We’ve been discussing it for a while.” He plays with the empty sugar packets, sighing. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“Chris, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know the guy, but if he’s your friend I’m sure he’ll understand.” Her hand closes around his, giving it a squeeze. “Quitting anything is hard, my friend Terry has been trying to stop drinking soda since I first met him, sometimes he goes months without a single drop, other times he drinks Coke for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midday snacks.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ve quit smoking maybe a dozen times now. But I pick it back up whenever I’m stressed or if I go clubbing a lot.” He picks her hand up, dropping each finger on the table only to do it again. “I stopped after I broke up with my last girlfriend.”

Lucy pursued her lips. She once had called Penny to see how her sister was doing and throughout the conversation, Penny had been curt with her, until Lucy snapped and decided to end the call. That was when Penny apologized and explained she was mad by proxy because Chris’ girlfriend was being a bitch, divulging personal details about their relationship. Lucy didn’t know the actress was, but she instantly disliked the woman.

“Uh, so maybe a good thing come out of that?” her smile was sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Chris gave her a warm smile. “I was single when I met you.”

“And if you weren’t?” it was a serious question disguised within a light smile.

“Here’s the thing, I don’t cheat. I may be a shitty boyfriend at times, especially with all the traveling and time away from each other, but cheating? That is inexcusable.” His eyes were fixed on hers when he continued and the intensity she found in those eyes made her squirm in her seat. “Had I been dating someone I’d have watched you from afar, cursing whatever deity for giving me a glimpse of yourself when they’d know I couldn’t act on it… The truth is I would have left the game. I was drawn to you like a compass needle is drawn to the north and I wanted you. Anything from the moment we said hello would be considered cheating in my book.”

A flustered laugh escaped Lucy’s mouth; she wasn’t expecting any of what he said, admittedly his stand on cheating mirrored hers but the other half of his speech floored her. Never had a man been so candid in his interest towards her and she was at a loss for words.

She was saved by the arrival of a boisterous man who introduced himself to her as Jay, the owner of Mike’s City Diner. He and Chris shared that typical bro hug after he set down the plates.

“I took the liberty of making your waffle with almond milk when Corinne told me you said no meat.” He had an accent she couldn’t place it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She took a bite of the waffle and moaned at the taste, speaking between bites. “This is amazing Jay, best waffle ever.”

“Thank you. I’m happy you like.” He looked between Chris and Lucy. “It is the first time you bring woman with you. Corinne was… disappointed. I can see why she can’t compete with your chosen fire head. Beautiful woman.”

“Keep it up and I’ll tell Janet you’re hitting on my girl.” Chris pointed his forkful of pancakes at Jay, before popping it in his mouth.

“Janet more prettier than Lucy because Janet is my wife.” Jay grinned at them. “I’ll leave you to your food. Wonderful day friends.”

She busied herself with another forkful of waffles and strawberries, trying not to focus too much on Chris calling her his girl.

“Don’t mind Jay, he’s a flirt. Didn’t I tell you the food was good?” Chris drizzled more syrup on his pancakes. “The man is a breakfast food king if I was a billionaire I’d hire him as my personal breakfast chef!”

“But you gotta eat more than just breakfast though. Who would you hire for dinner service?” she dumped most of the cream in her coffee, smirking when Chris cringed.

“Uhm… that’s a tough one.” He stroked his beard in thought. “Either Tyler Florence or Jeff Mauro… I’m going with Jeff Mauro; I love sandwiches and he is the king. What about you?”

“I don’t even need to think about it, it’s all about the good vanilla and the Italian mascarpone! Ina Garten is the Barefoot Contessa for a reason.” She observed.

“Now that would cost you an arm and a leg.” Chris countered. “And if you want Jeff to go make the cheese in a climate-controlled cave in Connecticut, then you’d be bankrupt by the next dinner service.”

“But she told me store bought was fine.”

“Store bought is never fine.” He gasped in mock horror.

Trying to contain her laugh had Lucy wiping away the moisture from the corner of her yes. “I can’t believe you watch Food Network, Chris!”

“Well, there’s just so many times you can play Boggle while on set. Sometimes you just want to watch something to take your mind off things you know?” He pushed his empty plate away, mirth in his voice. “Plus Chopped is psych! Scarlett, Sebastian and I place bets on our favorites. I usually leave a hundred dollars richer by the end of our marathons.”

..__..__..__..__..__

The Museum of Science was somewhat busy for a Monday since most schools in the city were already off for the Holidays, making Chris lower his cap to cover his eyes as they entered the building.

Lucy’s eyes got big when she took in the place. “Oh my god, this is incredible! It’s almost bigger than the Museum of Natural back in New York.”

“I believe New York has more exhibits but we have more square footage or something like that. They grow everything big in Mass.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it?” Lucy waggled her eyebrows, laughing before grabbing the map she had picked up at the entrance. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“I got us tickets to the Lightning! show at two, the Planetarium at three thirty and the butterfly garden at five pm.” Chris held her hand and lead her to the right side of the building while pointing things up in the map she held. “Maybe we could start with the dinos and make our way back to the red wing for the show?”

“Let’s head downstairs and see the Triceratops exhibit then, they are my favorite.”

“So, you like then horny, uh?” Chris whispered in her ear while they descended the escalator.

“Horny and big boned.” She whispered back with a straight face, a sneaky hand landing on the fly of his pants. “Small boners just don’t do it for me.”

A mother cleared her throat behind them just as they reached the lower level, and they moved quickly out of the way, looking sheepishly at the woman giving them a death glare before bursting into giggles.

“You’re such a bad influence on me.” Chris tutted at Lucy, bringing her close to his side and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“ME?” she protested with a laugh. “I was merely stating the fact that I like big dinosaurs, like a triceratops or a brachiosaur.”

“I’ll show you a brachiosaur when we get home.” He winked at her.

“If I recall correctly, your brachiosaur has quite a thick neck. Can I pet it? Maybe kiss it a few times?” She teased him, rubbing his forearm in a suggestive manner.

“Are you trying to make me pop a boner in public woman?” she saw him discreetly adjusting himself. “Come on, let’s see those dinos.”

The exhibit was fantastic, three full skeletons held the main floor, including a small, unhorned hatchling that made Lucy tear up. They admired the displays, taking turns pointing something they liked and debating which dinosaur would in against various superheroes, in the end deciding Hulk would probably join the dinosaur side, just to even things out. When they got to the T-Rex exhibit, Chris joked about this being Dodger’s wet dream and that he the only reason he wouldn’t steal a bone to take home to Dodger was that it wouldn’t fit inside his house, prompting Lucy to ask about it.

“The whole main floor is gorgeous, but I looooove your kitchen, it’s freaking amazing. If I ever move, I want a huge kitchen just like yours!”

“It was the first room I renovate when I bought the house last year.” Chris beamed. “Every detail, from the island to the fixtures have a history or a special meaning. I installed the backsplash myself.”

“Wait, you did it yourself?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed.

“The backsplash yeah, but I’ve had a lot of help from Dix and Garret during the reno. I also stained the hardwood and installed the mantle over the fireplace.” Chris grinned proudly and pulled up his phone, opening the gallery app and showing Lucy the before pictures. “Dix’s a contractor, damn good one too. We hired a design to come up with a general idea of I wanted and went from there. We’ve finished all the main floor, the master bedroom, and bathroom plus the staircase, but the other three bedrooms, the guest bathroom, basement and the backyard are kind of a mess. We only work on the house when I’m not filming, so it’s going slow.”

They walked over to the entrance of the Theater of Electricity as it was almost time for the show to start, and sat on a backless wooden bench, away from the main area, Chris straddling the bench and Lucy facing him, one leg bent over the smooth surface.

“Chris, the fact that you decided to tackle your own renovations when you could just pay someone to do it for you is remarkable. It speaks volumes of what you are as a person and what you want in life. My dad always quotes, we shape our buildings: thereafter, they shape us. You’re turning that place into a reflection of what you want for you and it shows.”

Chris regarded her for a moment, wistful eyes scanning hers.

“My ma’ always told me something similar before I moved to Los Angeles: whatever good things we build, end up building us. I’ve been trying to live by it, surrounding myself with people that want to build each other up, who share their talents with others in the best way they can. It takes a while to weed out the bad, especially in a place that thrives in being fake. There are many good, hard-working people in L.A. but there are at least three times as fakers and clingers who just want to use you. I love my house there, but sometimes it feels less like a home and that’s especially true now that I’ve bought the condo here. Ma’ was ecstatic when I told her I had found a place here, granted she wanted me closer in Sudbury, but I reckon Boston is a heck of a lot closer than Los Angeles. She helped decorate the living room and the big ass island was more of her idea than mine, but in the end, I loved it.”

“She’s got an awesome taste; I have the biggest case of kitchen envy now. I absolutely adore my apartment, it isn’t small by the city standards, but it doesn’t have much kitchen space. It certainly doesn’t have a big ass island, but it’s home.” She shrugged.

“I remember Penny mentioning you guys are from somewhere upstate, when did you move to New York?”

Lucy shifted in her seat. She would not think about him and what made her move back home.

“Late 2002. I had just gotten back from England; I went through a rough patch for a while and I wanted to start fresh some place where I could lose myself and not worry about everyone from the neighbors to the Mayor knowing your name. So as soon as I could I packed again and moved to New York. My father was supportive, but my Mamma was livid, she didn’t speak to me for a whole month.” she saw the confusion on his face. “That might not sound like a lot, but my Mamma is originally from Trento, Italy. She embodies all the stereotypes of an Italian woman you can think of. Not talking to me was maybe harder on her than it was on me!”

“My mother is like a quarter Italian so I can relate a little when she gets going is you better shut up and listen because she means business.” Chris nodded. He looked her over and Lucy had the distinct feeling he was trying to pierce some of her story together. He was much more perceptive than she initially thought, there would be no glossing over details with him. “England, uh? For dancing school?”

“Yeah… I joined when I was sixteen. Did almost six years with the company.”

He looked impressed. “That’s a whole lot of time dancing. What was the school like?”

“Demanding. We had to be the best one hundred percent of the time, you could lose your spot if you ever slacked on grades or on your dancing. I had a private tutor for classes, so I had no free time until I was finished with their version of high school. Then I got promoted to first soloist when I was twenty, so I barely know any touristy spots in London.”

“I keep wondering why you don’t want to tell me that you actually danced for the Royal Ballet of London and not some random school.” Chris gave her a pointed look and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Your sister is your biggest fan you know? She might have mentioned you danced with them once… or twenty times.”

Lucy looked away, her face heating up. Penny had been so supportive back in the day, even at thirteen, she was Lucy’s most supportive family member, encouraging her older sister to apply to the scholarship, staying in during the weekends so they could practice together. The events that preceded her return to the States still stung Penny and Lucy never thought her sister would look over them to hype her up to her friends.

“I don’t know really, I feel like I’m bragging when I mention their name. And some people look at my body and think ‘yeah right’ because a ballerina is supposed to be always this dainty girl and I’m now the opposite of that.” She waved her hand in front of her body. “I got rather crafty with not saying exactly where I studied, they mostly assume it was just a regular dancing school.”

“People are assholes.” He conceded.

The theater doors opened before Chris could comment further and they were ushered inside after handing their tickets to the greeter. They chose a seat near the middle row, moving all the way to the last seats, Chris pulling his cap down and slumping a little in the seat while everyone got seated around them. When the lights diminished, he righted himself up, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

Chris brought her arm over her shoulder, drawing her closer. He leaned into her, whispering in her ear. “I’m sure you were the cutest ballerina ever, but I much prefer the upgraded version of you.”

Even if she had any cute comebacks, and she didn’t, lights went up on the stage and the presenter introduced Professor Lightning, who proceeded to show the audience how Tesla coils worked and how to create lightning strikes at the comfort of their own lab. That was the first of the many corny science jokes of the thirty-minute show and Lucy lost herself in it, along with Chris.

..__..__..__..__..

“Maybe they’ll get it ready before we die, can you imagine it? A holiday trip to Mars?” Chris was walking backward while talking to Lucy, hands waving around in excitement, and she thought he looked like a little kid dreaming about what he’d do when he got older. It was the cutest thing.

They had just left the planetarium wing and they decided to head back down to the Starbucks locates at the atrium for some coffee. Chris had fake gagged when she ordered a Caramel Brûlée Latte and she made a show of drinking it slowly, moaning and making faces to get back at him. He ordered three double espressos in a grande cup, making the barista blink and repeat the order back to him.

They were now sitting by one of the many tables overlooking the Charles River, and Chris was dreaming of spending weekends on Mars instead of down in the Bahamas.

“I guess if you had thirty million dollars you could do it.” She agreed just to appease him. She saw his smile get bigger, probably already deciding which investments he’d give up being in that voyage. “You know, for each leg of the trip.”

Chris dropped his shoulder, defeated. “Maybe I could just go to the moon then. A quick getaway to look at Earth from another perspective.”

He looked serious and Lucy had a feeling he was indeed planning for that excursion.

“Would you really do it?” She inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Hell yes, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d crap my pants while going up but man, that would be so fucking cool.”

Lucy watched as Chris got a dreamy look on his face and she contemplated if he would think she was crazy if she got him a Christmas gift. She just had the perfect idea for one.

“Send me a picture when you get there ok? You’d pay to go, I wouldn’t go even if they’d paid me.”

“Is it the heights?”

“Actually no, I love rollercoasters and I’ve bungee-jumped before.”

“You what?!” He stared at her with wide eyes.

“I did yeah! It’s such a cool experience, I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“You better! So, if it isn’t heights, what is it?”

“I’m terrified of enclosed spaces. I can barely make out off an elevator without going into a mini panic attack.” Her body did a quick shake at thought of being inside a spaceship. “It’s not too much of being in a tight space but I need windows and I need to know I can quickly get out of the situation if the need arises. You can’t exactly do that while going to the moon.”

“I can see how that would pose a problem.” Chris nodded and finished his coffee. “How do you cope with flying?”

“I have a prescription for Xanax, but I try to avoid using it. I rely on lots and lots of distraction.” She picked her up her phone, unlocked and pulled up Spotify, showing him a playlist labeled Flying Sucks, and he scrolled through her picks. “I’m so glad I don’t need to turn off our phones anymore, I have my headphones on and music blaring from the moment I step into the plane.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but how does one go from Chopin to Slipknot in two songs?” He turned her phone back to her pointing from Nocturne op. 9 to Duality.

Lucy cocked her head at him, a grin on her face.

“My tastes are very singular,” she whispers trying to contain her laugh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chris paused for a bit and she saw the moment he got the joke.

“Did you… Did you just quote Fifty Shades Of Grey to me?” Chris was laughing so hard he dropped her phone on the table, his hand automatically landing on his chest. That was the third time she saw him doing that and vowed to try and make him laugh that hard again, it was the most adorable thing.

A few other visitors turned around startled by the sound of his laugh and Lucy shushed him, ineffectively. She saw a teenage girl squinting at Chris, trying to place the man sitting two tables away from her and Lucy immediately got up and stood in front of him, blocking her view.

“Let’s go, doofus, there’s a very curious teen staring at you and I say she’s seconds away from figuring it out who you are.” She gestured with a thumb to the table behind her. Lucy grabbed his hand and pulled him up, Chris lowering his cap while they left the cafeteria area.

“I still can’t believe you quoted that awful movie at me,” Chris said while tossing their cups on a nearby bin.

“And I don’t understand how you know that line at all.” She pointed at him, waggling her finger.

“They uh, may have offered me the role?” Chris glanced sheepishly at her.

“THEY WHAT?” Lucy shrieked and immediately covered her mouth. Chris pulled them into an empty alcove to get away from prying eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling but what?”

“They offered me the role. Twice. The second time they even threw veto power on whom would’ve play Anastacia.” He shook his head. “It was a hard pass from me. The sex scenes in the book were passable, but the plot felt iffy, very constricted and oversimplified.”

“You’re the first guy I know who actually have an opinion about the plot and do not dismiss it as being mommy porn.” Lucy praised him.

“I make a point of having an informed opinion and not rehash what others think.” Chris nodded. “If that means I have to read a book about kinky fuckery, hey, let’s do it!”

Lucy threw her head back with a laugh and they resumed their walk, discussing their favorite books and authors and soon it became very clear they did not share the same interests. Chris tended towards non-fiction, biographies, science and spirituality books while Lucy rarely picked up something that wasn’t about fantasy, especially vampires and wizards. They did agree on Harry Potter and A Brief History Of Time, so they called it a win anyway.

They circled back to the blue wing where the Butterfly Garden was located when a voice over the intercom announced that everyone with tickets for the five pm showing was now welcomed to enter the Garden, and they quickly made their way there.

They started the tour on the opposite side of the entrance, walking around a path brimming with the colorful wings of the kaleidoscope who lived there. Lucy took pictures of her favorites and marveled at how nature worked, turning into what most would consider an ugly nuisance into such an exquisite animal.

The thick, lush foliage extended all the way to the glass ceiling, the various shades of green a great contrast against the gray skies above. Each section of the garden filled with different types of flowers and plants to attract the butterflies, it was a cacophony of plants from all over the world, turning the area into something quite magical in Lucy’s eyes.

Chris stopped here and there to discuss whatever butterfly they could see, Chris pointing what he remembered of his previous visit and telling Lucy anecdotes of his time there with his family.

“Then he convinced Shanna to lick the picture! So she goes up, takes the mounted frame from the wall and low and behold, licked the fucking leaf!” Chris remembered laughing. “Of course, the moment she lifted the frame a silent alarm must’ve sounded somewhere, and two guards appeared out of thin air… and that’s how the Evans Family got banned from the MOS for six months.”

Lucy wheezed as she laughed, trying to control her breathing. “Poor Shanna! You and your brother were not kind with your sisters uh?”

“We’re vicious sometimes.” He agreed. “But we’re also very protective, I got in trouble once because I bit a guy for pushing Carly off the swing set. Granted I was six at the time, but man, I drew blood and everything! Dad had to pay for his hospital visit and I lost dessert rights for a month.”

He pouted, making Lucy giggle.

“Your family sounds amazing Chris! Are you guys doing something special for Christmas?”

“Mom’s hosting a huge party this year, so the whole family will be there. Lots of Evans and Capuanos, plenty of food and booze, games, I live for those parties, they are my favorite, so much love going on. Big breakfast in the morning, let them go crazy opening presents, then we take the kids sledding or to ice skate on a pond nearby and then we all gather to the party. How about you?”

“That sounds lovely. It’s just the immediate family this Christmas for us. Mamma insists on having all her kids there at least every other year, it’s a deal she makes with all in-laws when they become family.” She paused. Lucy was the only one who had never taken a boyfriend to one of their gatherings. She had mastered the art of ignoring the looks of pity her family sent her way every time she arrived alone, dodging questions about her failed love life now second nature. “We don’t have many relatives in America, mamma being Italian and Dad from Scotland, so we kinda created our own family traditions; we decorate cookies on the 24th, mamma chooses the Yule log, and we sit around talking about our year while listening to the Beatles and drinking wine. Then on Christmas Day we go ice skating, hold the ‘Annual Seabrook Snowman Challenge’, which I suck at by the way, and consume way too much wine and crostoli.”

“I love crostoli, my mom never got the recipe right from her grandma so hers it’s not so great… But I’ll deny it to my grave if you ever tell her I said that.” He tapped the end of her nose, making her giggle. “It’s been such a long time since I had them though.”

“Mom makes a ton of them to give the neighbors as gifts, I’ll save you some and send them back with Penny.”

“That’d be awesome, thank you.” He ran a hand through her hair and brought her closer, intending to kiss her. His lips almost touch her when a group of kids no older than six-year-old breezes by them, screaming ewwww and making kissing noises. “I guess you got cooties.”

They giggle and separate, but he clasps her hand while they toured the winding paths.

Walking further into the garden they got to a small section where hundreds of white or blue butterflies floated over the flowers, enjoying a rare ray of sun that filtered from the glass ceiling above. Chris took his phone out from his front pocket and handed it over to Lucy before embracing her, arms closing around her front and pulling her closer, her back molded to his front. She shivered at the full body contact and had trouble opening the camera app. Searching for the best angle, she took a couple of pictures of them surrounded by the clouds of wings, including one where a blue butterfly sat on Chris’ shoulders and Lucy had a surprised look on her face, which quickly become their favorite.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the museum will close in ten minutes.”

The voice over the intercom made them both jump, and Chris looked at the clock.

“Wow, it’s almost six already?” He looked surprised.

“Are you serious?” Lucy couldn’t believe how fast the day had gone by.

Yesterday had been amazing, all the teasing leading to a frenzied and amazing night of sex but if she had to choose her favorite time with Chris had been today. There were no awkward moments, not long silences where they didn’t know what to say to each other. As much as she was pressed not call it a date at the beginning, there was no denying today had been exactly that. And she loved every second of it.

Now came the hard part, letting go of Chris and going back to her own life.

“At least it’s not snowing yet, roads should be clear.” He talked absently. Chris scratched his beard appearing to miles away from the museum already and Lucy tried not to let it bother her.

The escalator had a line and the elevator was for seniors, pregnant women and people in need of assistance, so they took the stairs, keeping closer to the wall as to not draw much attention.

He picked up her left hand, drawing patterns on her palm before twisting their fingers together while they descended the stairs to get to the garage. Lucy noticed how touch drove he had been the entire day, always reaching out to her, holding her hand while they walked, circling her waist while they waited in line for tickets. It occurred to her he would distance himself from her while they were in public and she understood why he would do it but in a deeper level, she was elated when he didn’t. She thought back to that morning’s conversation; I won’t shy away from someone I care about’, and her heart skipped a beat. Could he care about her in a more permanent way than a one-night stand? She shook her head. No, that wasn’t possible, right?

Then how you would explain your own feelings? Her heart had terrible timing, as always. Okay, so maybe today had been better than good. I was a fucking great day okay, could you at least own up to that? And Lucy couldn’t argue because it really had been that.

At least she’d had the memories of their time together, the last thirty hours had been incredible, and she knew a smile would always accompany those memories, no matter what happened from now on.

They got to the garage after a few minutes, people shuffling around them to get to their cars as quickly as possible. They walked fast, not bothering with their coats, just wanting to get inside his car. Lucy was really looking forward to sliding against the heated leather seats.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” Chris exclaimed pulling her along. His wide stride made her almost run after him, air leaving her mouth in smalls white clouds as she breathed out. He hit his key fob a few meters before they reached the car and engine came to life with a hum. He opened the door for her, and she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before getting inside. Chris quickly went around to the driver’s seat and moaned when the heated air hit his skin. “Oh, much better.”

“Do you think Audi would sell me just one of these seats? The heating at the studios sucks, I’d love to have one of these for my office!” She wriggled happily in her seat.

“Or you could buy a proper office chair that does the same thing?” He pointed at her when he got behind the wheel. Soft jazz music filled the air around them when he turned the key, the melodic sound swirling around them.

“Uhm I could, but then I couldn’t tell people how I convinced fucking Audi to make me a custom chair. Now that’s a story.” She chuckled and turned on her seat, facing him.

“So buy a chair, slap an Audi sticker to the back of it and tell the story anyway, how ‘bout that?”

“Uhm… There’s an idea.”

He laughed. “Why are we discussing this particular one anyway?”

“’ Cuz there’s like a hundred cars trying to leave at the same time and we’re stalling?”

“Such a smart girl.” Chris reached over the console and picked up her hand, playing with her rings. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

He nodded and concentrated on the traffic inside the garage, managing to get out and merge into the exit lane, all with one hand, the other still holding hers.

Why in the world did she say she wasn’t hungry when he asked? She wasn’t, that was true, but they could have gone somewhere to just talk, she could have a few more moments with him and now she blew it. God, she was stupid. She thumped her head in the back seat, cursing herself. Was it too late to say something, hey, changed my mind, let’s go grab a pizza or something.

She kept her body turned to him as he drove, a leg bent on the seat, studying his profile, the little bump on his nose, the mole on his left cheek, how his beard was not dark blond but auburn like Penny’s hair. She wanted to commit it all to memory so she could relive it once she got back home. Maybe daydream about not being a fucking coward and ask him to take her back to his place instead of back to Garrets.

They drove in silence for the next ten minutes, the only sounds inside the car coming from the speakers. He pulled to the curb of Garret’s house and Chris killed the engine, turning to Lucy. She felt the intensity of his gaze while she studied his face, waiting for his final words. This was it. He would thank her for a good time, say she was a nice girl and send her away.

Was it even possible to have feelings for someone you’d met in person just the day before? Maybe it was just some leftover infatuation from the night before? Sure, she had heard of him from Garret and Penny, they were practically his personal cheerleader squad, but meeting Chris had been a whole different experience. She couldn’t remember the last time she’s had so much fun with a man. It wasn’t just the sex, which by the way had blown her mind after twenty plus months of celibacy, but how he’d made her feel like the most important person in the world when he talked to her, how he listened with his whole body, really paying attention to what she was talking about. How he laughed at her jokes, cracking up with that adorable and dorkable laugh of his. He had cut through her walls and her fears with his witty banter and a charming personality and she had been impotent to resist him. She liked everything about him. She was falling for the guy.

No.

She had already fallen.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Stupid, silly girl. Why on earth would someone like him ever want more than a one-time thing with the likes of her?

She screamed at that poisonous voice to shut up, she didn’t want to hear it today. She concentrated on the affirmations Doctor Clark had given her.

She was worth it; she was not perfect but every being deserved love.

She was happy with her body; maybe she wasn’t a size four or even a six, but she was stylish, some days she would be so bold as to call herself sexy.

She was a good person; a loving friend, a kind person, a passionate lover,

She was deserving of love.

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, willing away all bad thoughts, breathing in and out, centering herself.

Maybe not his love, but he had awakened something inside her, if Captain America himself thought she was worthy of his time, that voice surely must be wrong.

“Lucy?”

She opened her eyes and leaned forward, resting her hand on his knee.

“Thank you for an amazing time, Chris. I haven’t had this much fun in quite a few years.”

She kissed his cheek, lingering just one second more. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she moved to open the door.

“What, no, Lucy wait.” He hit the lock button, breathing rapidly. “Just wait, give a man a moment to breathe, will ya’?”

“Chris?” She tilted her head, watching as he took deep breathes, counting on his fingers while murmuring what looked like affirmations, much the same she did earlier.

“Sorry, I had to run a few scenarios in my head. A trick my therapist taught me for when I get anxious.” He explained, tangling the fingers of one of their hands and pulling her to him, kissing her square in the mouth. “None of that cheek kissing thing alright?” he pleaded when he released her.

“Alright?” she had no idea what to answer so she nodded instead.

“Good, good. We had a great day together, didn’t we?” his free hand reached for a stray lock of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I believe I thanked you for it already.” She looked nonplussed at him.

“That you did baby.” He kissed her again, this time biting her lower lip. “What if this wasn’t the end of that time?”

“Chris?”

“What if instead of dropping you here, you get out, get your bags and go home with me?” his clears eyes shone with hope and he licked his lips, waiting.

“You know we leave after lunch, right, I told you that.” Her heart was speeding up and she was sure he could feel her hands getting clammy. Was he really asking her to spend the night again?

“That would give us more,” he checked his watch, “eighteen more hours together.”

“Are you sure Chris? I’m okay with this being the end of our little rendezvous, I really liked the day we had.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

His smile vanished.

“Oh, unless you don’t want to, I can understand that.” He chewed on his lip, defeated.

“Unlock the door, Chris.”

“Okay.” He hit the button and bowed his head. “Can I… can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Yes, you can kiss me goodnight.” She opened the door but didn’t move, waiting for him to look up. “You can kiss me goodnight after I have my wicked way with you after we get back to your place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I was beating myself up for not saying yes when you asked if I was hungry.”

His face broke up in a huge grin.

“We can eat, then go back home.”

“I just want to spend more time with you, I don’t care what we do.”

His lips were cold when she kissed him, the outside air rapidly entering the car, but neither cared, too lost in each other to bother closing the door.

“I’ll go grab my bags.” She said when they separated.

“Hurry up woman, we have just nineteen hours and fifty-five minutes left.”

She threw her head back and laughed, getting out of the car and running up the stairs.

“Hey Lucy?” he yelled from the lowered window. She turned to him, after knocking on Garret’s door. “I hope you don’t have plans to sleep tonight.”

#Chris Evans Fanfic #Chris Evans Fanfiction #Chris Evans x OFC #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x Curvy OFC #swdfic

[toomanytentacles]

JON BON BRADY, an essay

This is the text of the recorded essay presented by Elbee Bargeron on Episode 43 of the Splathouse Podcast. Click below to hear the episode https://soundcloud.com/user-616846084/splathouse43-double-feature-suburban-commando-1991-the-brady-bunch-movie-1995

Has anyone given much thought to actor Jack Noseworthy lately? Back in the 90s, he was kinda a big deal breaking out in a starring role on MTV’s teen sci-fi series DEAD AT 21 — but what many critics can agree on is there was another role that solidified him as a bonafide movie star: his turn as angry grunge rocker Eric Dittmeyer in 1995’s THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE. It was a role that, to some, may seem static or insignificant, but in reality, directly led him to probably the most noteworthy Noseworthy appearance of the decade. So, as much of a cinematic masterpiece as THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE so obviously is, we don't dare stop there. Because within the same year, Jack actually reprised the role with a sinister twist in the most unlikely of places, the music video for Bon Jovi’s single, “Always.”

Caution: all of what I’m about to tell you is true.

Now we all know the story of Bon Jovi — after the success of two studio albums and extensive touring, the boys found themselves fatigued by being so beloved by everyone all over the world, and took a bit of a hiatus in the late 1980s — only to come back triumphantly a few years later with newsworthy short haircuts and a much more “mature” sound — and acting as inspiration for MTV’s “Unplugged” series along the way. They released one more studio album followed by a greatest hits record which featured a lot of their hits and a new single they would soon call a hit, the song “Always.”

Jon Bon Jovi knew he had a hit song on his hands with “Always,” and as such, knew he needed a hit music video to go along with it. He wanted something...edgy. Hot. And Sexy. Jon conceived a video so steamy that his band mates cautioned against it. After all, MTV had previously banned their video “Living in Sin” for being too explicit. But, Jon argued, after he basically invented the highly successful “Unplugged” for MTV, they pretty much were obligated to show anything he wanted, and production went forward.

So Jon was a big fan of The Brady Bunch, and you can read all about that in his memoir ROCKY ROAD: THE JON BON JOVI STORY AS TOLD BY ME, JON BON JOVI that I’ve so kindly provided for you in the footnotes (footnotes have been lost). So when THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE debuted, Jon was taken aback. He, like everyone else who saw the film, became immediately enamored with it, and recognized the brilliance of its one true star, the incomparable Jack Noseworthy. Jon saw a bit of himself in the character of Eric Dittmeyer, and thought him a perfect fit for the message he was trying to convey with “Always” — that love is passionate and violent, and the crazy things we do for it could potentially haunt us. Essentially, this was the logical progression of the character — Jon knew this, and now he wanted the rest of us to know it.

The premise of the “Always” music video is cut and dry. Our bad boy hero Noseworthy aka Dittmeyer is sulking alone in his room remembering a lost love. He holds a photograph of her in his hands, and we can see from his forlorn gaze that he is heartbroken. But -- there’s more to it than that. The nuance displayed in the first 25 seconds of this video is crucial; not only is Dittmeyer sad, he seems stricken by grief -- a grief that is possibly (probably) brought on by guilt. We’re transported from his bedroom to his memories, starting with the day the photo was taken.

At this point, we would be remiss to mention the rest of the now legendary cast featured in this now legendary music video. Carla Gugino, fresh from her role in a film as equally great and universally adored as THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE, the Pauly Shore vehicle SON IN LAW, plays Dittmeyer’s girlfriend; and newcomer Keri Russell -- who up until this time had only been cast as adolescent girls in projects like HONEY I BLEW UP THE KIDS and BOY MEETS WORLD, and who was looking for a way to break out into more sophisticated entertainment -- is Carla’s roommate. Rounding out the cast is indie darling Jason Wiles, who -- hipsters, take note -- also starred in projects by both Robert Rodriguez and Noah Baumbach during this time, making him the perfect choice for Dittmeyer’s baby-faced rival. Clearly, Jon Bon Jovi’s casting choices were -- as many critics agreed -- inspired.

But, back to the video. Here we are in Dittmeyer’s memories, reminded of what a rebel he is as we see he and Carla making out in his classic Oldsmobile 88 convertible while speeding away into oncoming traffic. Both of them fit the cliche of “young and free,” a love that makes everything else in the world irrelevant. But a love so hot can burn out fast, so we know we must be in for a tumultuous ride with this couple. Dittmeyer enjoys photographing his girlfriend, but what he really loves is taking video of her. Carla is an attractive and empowered young woman, so she has no problems dancing and acting sexy for her boyfriend, and no doubt does she find this kind of play enticing. They fall into bed together with the video camera still recording -- a fact cleverly made apparent to us with a full zoom to the camera lens sitting idle on the arm of a chair.

The story progresses quickly as we are now treated to a memory of the couple attending a rave party together, both of them dressed in scandalous outfits and moussed hair; they get down and dirty with each other on the dancefloor, and when they return home -- still fueled by the drugs they have undoubtedly consumed -- they unknowingly awaken Keri who had fallen asleep on the couch. The couple retreat to Carla’s bedroom as Keri stretches and flips on the television. And here’s where Bon Jovi decided to make it interesting: Dittmeyer’s video camera, still running, is connected to the living room TV. So when Keri sleepily turns on the television, she is shocked fully awake as she sees her roommate initiate sloppy sex with her boyfriend.

We can pause for a moment and reflect a bit more about Jon Bon Jovi’s vision for Eric Dittmeyer. According to his memoir ROCKY ROAD THE STORY OF JON BON JOVI AS TOLD BY ME JON BON JOVI, Jon knew Dittmeyer was a sleaze, and wanted to echo that in this video. We noted before that Jon had seen a bit of himself in the character, which means that Jon definitely had some demons he needed to deal with. Dittmeyer, as it turns out, had been, and seemingly always would be a two-timer. We can support this with the following evidence: Dittmeyer didn’t “accidentally” leave his video camera running. There had always been sexual tension between he and Keri --  we know Dittmeyer’s type has to be women with long curly hair, proven by his interest in Marissa Ribisi’s character in THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE, so no doubt could he resist the allure of Keri “soon-to-be Felicity” Russell. He knew that if Keri saw how great he was in bed with Carla that she wouldn’t be able to turn down a future tryst with him. And ya know, it worked.

Carla is outraged when she returns from the grocery store and sees a live display of the two of them canoodling, again, on the living room TV. She throws the bag of groceries at them in the bedroom and runs out, leaving the apartment and running down the street. Enter Jason, an artist friend of theirs -- and just maybe one of Carla’s old flames -- who sees her on the street and invites her up to his loft. He has her pose for a painting, they both remove their shirts, and we cut to the next morning when Carla wakes up alone in his bed. She’s feeling guilty and calls Dittmeyer to pick her up, but when he arrives all hell breaks loose when he realizes she’s slept with Jason: he throws a tantrum of gigantic proportion, throwing furniture and destroying the painting, but the worst is still yet to come. Carla tells him, effectively, to talk to her hand, and tries to leave the building. But Dittmeyer has already tritely made up his mind that if he can’t have her no one will, and uses what we can only assume is paint thinner to set off a fiery explosion that kills Carla but he’s able to walk away from entirely unscathed.

We now leave Dittmeyer’s memories and return to the beginning of the video where he is staring at Carla’s photograph. He’s missing her greatly, and his guilt manifests as he hallucinates her standing in his doorway. He reaches to her but she fades away, a literal ghost that lives only in his mind.

Jon Bon Jovi married his high school sweetheart Dorothea in 1989, and although they share a love that won’t ever die, we can’t help but wonder who Jon modeled this destructive love story after. Why would Jon feel such a connection to a sleaze like Eric Dittmeyer? Frankly, it’s a love tryst with himself. Jon laid out an entire chapter in his memoir ROCKY ROAD THE JON BON JOVI STORY AS TOLD BY ME JON BON JOVI on how he had been secretly obsessed with Shakespearean tragedy in his youth, but had to cover that with a tuff persona to remain cool to his New Jersey heavy metal friends. He loved those tragic characters because they had flaws, and he respected them for that. So, along came THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE -- a Shakespearean tragedy in its own right -- and the character of Dittmeyer spoke to him on a whole other level. He was a rocker, just like him. He drove a convertible and had a bad attitude, just like him. He was into girls with long curly hair, definitely just like him. And Jon felt none of his Jersey friends ever understood him or his passion for art and culture, just as Dittmeyer’s friends never fully understood him.

When Jon asked Jack Noseworthy to meet with him about the role, he was nervous and excited. He didn’t want to let on how much he needed Jack to be this character again, to act out his own youthful grief and regret using Jack as a surrogate. Jon wanted validation after so many years hiding his love for high art beneath tight pants, superfluous scarves, and feathered locks -- and besides, he had already hinted at a more sensitive side of himself when originating the intimate acoustic concert series “Unplugged” for MTV all on his own and by the way, gave it away for free -- so when Noseworthy agreed to reprise this character, Jon was ecstatic. They conceptualized the character together -- it was actually Jack who came up with the idea for Dittmeyer to destroy Jason’s painting of Carla, a symbol of Jon’s regret of hiding all of his delicate emotions from his more macho friends. It was, in a word, cathartic.

So, thanks to forgotten actor Jack Noseworthy, THE BRADY BUNCH MOVIE, and the video for “Always,” Jon Bon Jovi was finally given the intellectual credit he always wanted and deserved. Rest in peace, Jon. We’ll always love you, forever and a day.

#bradybunch #bradybunchmovie #jonbonjovi #bonjovi #jacknoseworthy

[tessatechaitea]

DC House of Horror #1, Part Three

How is Wonder Woman playing the fiddle horrific?

Please nobody masturbate to this.

The story is about a guy from the pre-Comics Code Authority days who murders the fuck out of his girlfriend and probably cuts up her eyes in some really graphic close-ups. They loved that shit back then! After he's done it, he begins to hallucinate Harley Quinn and her sexy euphemisms. She's all, "Whose beaver did she stuff to get your Mike Cock in a ruffle?!" Then she scissors Poison Ivy for three pages straight.

The implication that vanilla is boring is bullshit. Has she ever tasted vanilla?! I rest my case!

I've been rewatching The Flight of the Conchords recently and I think Jemaine Clement might be my most favorite person in the world. He's just adorable. Also, that bit where Bret goes into the Boom song and he tells Koko that she's so hot she's making him sexist? Fucking brilliant. Instead of reviewing comic books, I should just remind people of moments in television shows that I really loved. Like that time the Native American kid was impressed that Bobby Brady put beans in a flashlight? Fucking awesome. Chuck, the guy who killed his wife, remembers how he met the ghost of Harley Quinn. He saw her naked in the shower which caused Harley Quinn to fall in love with him. I wish a hot naked ghost would fall in love with me. But no! I just get ugly, half-decomposed monsters. There's only so many times you can jerk off to one of those doing a sexy dance in the living room. The story ends with the reader realizing that poor Chuck is going to be tormented by sexy Harley Quinn's ghost for the rest of his life. And he's upset by this! What is wrong with him? Harley offered to strip for him right in this comic book and he flips the fuck out. I guess he's gay. That's probably why he killed his wife. What a totally gay thing to do. The next story is called "Last Laugh." It stars Batman and, presumably (judging by the title), The Joker. I hope it ends with somebody sucking somebody else's you-know-what. I meant for that to represent the butthole but I just realized most of you probably thought penis. I'll be more clear in the future. The story begins with Bruce Wayne thinking about that Confucius saying about a man seeking revenge needing to dig two graves. Bruce concludes with "So that man with revenge on his mind...what does he do? He gets himself a big shovel." Spoken like a guy whose never done any physical labor in his life! He thinks a regular shovel is only good for digging one grave! Bruce is loading a gun when The Joker's voice begins tormenting him. I'm suspecting that the revelation will be that The Joker was always just another side of Bruce Wayne and Bruce finally realized it. So now he has to eat a bullet to save Gotham. I just finished the story and that's it exactly. When was the last time I called myself a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader? Why doesn't anybody else call me that? Don't they see my greatness?! Fucking peons! I'll ruin you all! Starting with the peasants at Weird Science! Bwa ha ha ha ha! Whoa. What just happened? I hope this doesn't mean I have to eat a bullet now too? Crazy For You and Last Laugh Ratings: These two stories were better than the previous two stories. At least the Batman one took a premise and made a pretty nice little tale out of it. It's not like we haven't seen that premise before. I think Buffy did one where some demon tried to convince her she was crazy and just fantasizing about being a vampire slayer. And I can't remember the other times we've seen this but I've mentioned them before when my mind worked better. Back in the mid-90s, I began a book about Christopher Robin in a mental institution and all of his stuffed animals were also inmates. You know what I'd like to see? A dark version of H.R. Pufnstuf. H.R. Giger Pufnstuf! Anyway, the Harley story was pretty good because it made me imagine having a sexy ghost around all the time. But it sort of ended like the writer didn't know how to end it. It was less a story and more a moment in the life of Chuck's spiral into madness.

#House of Horror #DC Comics #Harley Quinn #Comics Code Authority

[shirtlesssammy]

All Hell Breaks Loose: Part One: Recap

Then:

Sam is a special demon psychic snowflake and the whole thing is spinning out of control!

Now:

It’s been a long time, but while on the road the boys stop at a diner, and Dean wants some pie.

While Sam gets their grub, Dean cranks his Boston. His radio starts to crap out though and he looks around in wonder. He quickly notices that there is something hinky happening in the diner and runs to Sam’s help. Once in the diner, he notices customers and staff lying dead in pools of their own blood, but no Sam —just sulfur!

Sam, meanwhile, is resting peacefully.

Err, he’s in Westworld* Frontierland. *Boris has never actually seen Westworld. Anyway, upon waking he tries several shop doors with no luck and finally runs into another human: Andy, the psychic dude that conned Dean out of the Impala. They have a fun catch-up, and then hear screaming and run to check it out. It’s Ava! (Uh, she was mentioned in the Then, but I don’t remember her story. We’ll recap it one day, I promise!) She’s freaking out! Andy’s freaking out! And Sam is Mr. Cool. They soon hear another voice and meet Jake and Lily. They’re all SUPER confused, and all 23 years old. Btw, Lily wins with the whole killing people with a touch of her hand. Ugh. Sam fills all the Yellow Eyed Demon Specials in on what brought them to this place.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Dean are lost on how to locate Sam. Dean gets a call from Ash (Awww, Ash!!!) He knows but can’t talk over the phone. It’s huge. Dean and Bobby head to the roadhouse.

Sam’s new buddies think he’s crazy. Sam tries to give his best Jack Shephard line: “Live together, Die alone.” but no one is buying it. (Whew, bringing out a Lost reference is really dating me, sorry.)

Thunder rolls, and Jake, the brooding soldier wanders alone through the desolate funhouse landscape. Will he find the answers he’s looking for? Will it start raining before he finds shelter? Will he stupidly investigate visions of creepy girls in windows alone? Yes, to that last one apparently.

Creepy ghost girl shows herself and prepares to attack.

Sam attacks first and iron bars her away (He also calls her a demon, but she really seemed like a ghost to me?)

Sam realizes where they are: Cold Oak, SD. A town so haunted every resident fled the joint. Lily wants to get the hell out of Dodge. No one points it out to her that they’re not in Dodge. (I’m so funny.) Anyway, Sam tries to remain the voice of reason. Lily reveals that she accidentally killed her girlfriend. Wow. <Insert no joke because that’s some sad shit.>

Sam keeps the group mostly* together and instructs them to find weapons. *Lily takes off on her own.

Dean and Bobby rumble to the roadhouse and find it burnt to the ground. Dean finds Ash’s watch in the rubble. I don’t remember being too broken up about this on my first viewing, but upon subsequent viewings, I’m seriously bummed. Ash was great and this is really sad.

Lily keeps walking away from the group, in the forest, towards laughing child voices. Sounds like a plan. Sam finds a knife. Ava is hungry. Andy finds salt. They all discover that Lily is missing, but quickly find her.

Yep, she’s hanging from a rope in the town center. Ava wants to get the hell out of there, but the others realize it’s not going to be that easy. Sam is missing his brother. Aww. Andy says that he can try to use his mojo to contact Dean.

Dean is bitching about not finding Sam, when he gets a vision. He buckles under the psychic intrusion and tries to brush it off when he sees flashes of Sam and the bell in the town. Good thing Bobby’s there with his penetrating gaze and questions about what is obviously some kind of Sam-like vision. Bobby asks immediately if the engraving on the bell is an oak tree and based only on that fact, knows where to find Sam. We all want to grow up to be Bobby, right?

Back at the frontier theme park Sam and his new buddies continue to weapon up. Sam bonds with soldier Jake over their shared war experiences. We also get some fun dialogue about how Sam is beginning to doubt Dean’s ability to solve all problems, setting that up nicely for season 4.

Azazel’s recruits lay out salt circles, light candles, and line the windowsills with salt. Ava tells Sam that she wants to just curl up with Brady and watch bad TV. Sam breaks the bad news: her fiance is dead. She falls into his arms, weeping.

Sam falls asleep and Azazel walks into his dreams. Azazel tells Sam that he’s gathered them in this town to kill each other off until one person stands. Azazel wants a leader for his army. The rest of the “soldiers” are collateral damage. He tells Sam that Jess had to die because otherwise Sam would end up a tax lawyer with 2 babies and a paunch instead of a hunter/soldier in his prime.

The dream shifts to baby Sam’s nursery. Azazel explains that he accidentally murdered his mother. Yeah. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. “It wasn’t about her, it was about you.” Sam watches, shocked, as past-Azazel infects him with demon blood. Mary walks in and sees past-Azazel.

“It’s you,” Mary says. (Unsuspecting viewer: WHAAAA?) Horrified, Sam watches her get dragged to the ceiling and then...Sam wakes up to the news that Ava is missing. As they head off to look for her, Ava skulks out from behind a building. You can practically see the moustache twirling.

With the recruits divided, Ava corners Andy alone and lets the creepy demon child into the house to kill off Andy. She begins to weep and scream, claiming that she had gone out to get water from the well. Sam sees the window open and salt brushed away and calls her on her lies. He puts eight and five together and realizes that Ava had been fully in control during her five months’ absence.

She owns up to it. “People just keep showing up,” she says gleefully. “Children like us. Batches of 3 or 4 at a time.” She reveals that she’s getting into the killing. “I can’t believe I just started out having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?” She calls her demon girl in to get rid of Sam but Jake steps in and snaps her neck. Her control of the demon severed, the demon zooms away.

Sam decides it’s time to leave, only to be stopped by Jake. Jake reveals a similar dream from Azazel and tells Sam that he knows only one person can leave the town alive. If he escapes, Jake explains, he’ll kill Azazel for sure. So, could he please just kill Sam already and get it over with? Sam tries to talk him down. He drops his knife on the ground as a show of good faith. Jake slowly sets his weapon down as well. But then Jake gives Sam a super strength wallop. Yeah. Forgot about the super strength, eh? 

The two engage in fisticuffs. Sam grabs the iron bar from the ground, knocking out Jake. He lifts his hand for the killing blow then stops and tosses away the weapon. Because he’s Sam Fucking Winchester.

And then there’s Dean, yelling for his brother. Bobby and Dean have found their way to the town! You can practically hear the sound of trumpets hailing our heroes. And then a not-so-passed-out Jake stabs Sam in the back and twists the knife up towards his heart. Bobby runs after Jake while Dean cradles Sam. “It’s not even that bad,” he says as Sam dies in his arms. 

Me RN ^^

You wanted to end this week on a down note, right? You’re welcome. (Bwahh, and we have no scheduled date on recapping the second part to this episode!! The agonizing, tense, painful wait will probably not be worth it!)

The Ultimate Quote Match:

See if they got any pie. Bring me some pie!

Give me a minute. I’m still working through “demons are real”.

Gay porn, all hours of the day.

That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels.

I don’t think God has much to do with this, Sam.

#supernatural #spn recap #all hell breaks loose #spn 2x21 #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #spn rewatch #season 2 #all hell breaks loose: part 1 #bobby singer #ash #azazel #mary winchester

[thisdaynews]

I Was an NRA Lobbyist. Here’s My Road Map for Gun Reform.

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I Was an NRA Lobbyist. Here’s My Road Map for Gun Reform.

I’m a long-time gun rights proponent with pretty solid credentials. I lobbied for the NRA. I am the president of the Independent Firearm Owners Association and I even gave Ronald Reagan his first shooting lesson with a customized AR-15 when I ran the Firearm Industry’s Trade Association in 1992. I am also someone who has worked successfully on bipartisan gun control measures, specifically a child safety lock agreement supported by Bill Clinton, which explains in part why I am also aformerNRA lobbyist.

Even at this highly charged moment, when emotions are at their peak after the shootings in California, Texas and Ohio, I believe there is a way to achieve meaningful gun law reforms without alienating millions of responsible gun owners who don’t believe that criminals, unsupervised children or mentally ill people should have access to any kind of weapon.

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When I began my career as a lobbyist for the gun rights community back in 1984, it was not uncommon to hear prominent Democrats champion gun rights as vocally as their Republican colleagues. House Commerce Chairman John Dingell (D-Mich.), House Judiciary Chairman Jack Brooks (D-Texas) and Senator Frank Church (D-Idaho) all argued that our identity as Americans was encapsulated in the rights enshrined by the Second Amendment. But those moderate Democratic voices have all but disappeared, lost to redistricting and changing demographics, and in their place the pro-gun and anti-gun rights groups have filled the void with inflammatory culture war rhetoric—all to the detriment of average gunowners.

Democrats, the presidential field in particular, aren’t exactly helping things. Democratic candidates desperately need to realize that tens of millions of us gun folk view our participation in this democracy of ours through the lens of the gun issue. We wonder why we ought to trust politicians who want to limit our rights and our implied freedoms because some demented lunatic, or terrorist or common criminal misused a gun we wish he had never been able to access in the first place. If we continue to demonize legitimate gun owners we will fight tooth and nail to protect our property and our rights, preventing all of us from reforming what we can and bringing collective attention to issues that desperately need fixing.

Instead of bumper sticker sloganeering, why not approach this issue not as enemies but as compatriots? Let’s focus on our common goal to disarm (in advance) individuals we all agree ought not have the guns, and concurrently and forthrightly protect the ability for the rest of us to own them for any lawful activity. Here’s how to approach some of these issues in a way that is going to appeal to independents and blue-collar gun owners.

1. Stop saying ‘universal background checks.’

Today’s current gun control mantra is “universal background checks.” The Brady law passed in 1993 mandated background checks for gun purchasers at retail gun shops. These transactions are commercial in nature and generally between strangers—the firearms dealer and the buyer. Twenty years ago, the firearms industry (and even the NRA) supported these checks at gun shows as well as retail gun shops,but the original legislation extended only to federally licensed dealers, with no attempt made to extend that jurisdiction to nondealers.Today, you’ll find gun owners support background checks for all commercial transactions. That includes gun shows, flea markets and internet sales purchases.Strangers can’t possibly know the backgrounds of the buyer and these checks can prevent the unintentional transfer of a gun to a disqualified individual.

But when the word “universal” is used, gun owners rebel. Why? They don’t want to be turned into criminals for giving a firearm to their wife, their kids or their parents without a background check—which is exactly what they fear could happen if a law mandates background checks for all gun sales in the U.S.

So why not extend the Brady background check to all commercial sales, including gun shows, internet sales and flea markets, while carefully and responsibly crafting exemptions for relatives, friends and co-workers whom the seller has personally known for more than a year? And in cases where there is some doubt about the relationship, let’s encourage people to get the checks by giving them the same liability protection when crimes are committed with those guns that retail dealers have now. Compromise, that dirty word, means we both get something in the transaction that’s useful to us.

With these exemptions in place, opposition would be diminished, and legislation based on sound policy not “gotcha politics” will more easily be enacted. Most importantly, disqualified individuals would find it harder (though admittedly not impossible) to obtain guns. Isn’t that what we seek?

2. Help stop illegal gun sales.

Rampant trafficking of stolen weapons is another area of potential common ground. If we seriously desired (and why wouldn’t we?) to curtail the 700,000-plus annual gun thefts in this country, we could do it without too much controversy. Home thieves sell their stolen guns (and jewelry and everything else) to fences. Fences take those stolen guns over state lines and sell them back to dealers who have no simple means of knowing that they are in fact purchasing stolen merchandise. When a retailer buys a firearm he must record it in an “A & D” (acquisition and disposition) book. Even if the gun was reported stolen by make and serial number, the dealer wouldn’t know it. But if every dealer purchase were automatically run through NCIC (the National Crime Information Center run by the FBI),then local police, informed about the pending purchase of stolen property, could question the seller, leading to immediate arrests. Why steal what you can’t sell? Would a program like this end the theft of firearms? No. Would it cut down dramatically on those thefts? You bet it would.

Why have you never heard anyone talking about this before? It’s simple; there is no political advantage to solving this (or any) gun related problem if we can’t make political hay from the controversy. Issues are only useful when they are “us or them,” “black or white” with little to no nuanced middle ground. Isn’t that a large part of our problem in this country? We really are a rather centrist nation, but the enthusiasm of purists seems to dominate the debate. Perhaps we need enthusiastic moderates now and again to represent those of us who aren’t purists.

3. Remember: Not every gun owner is crazy.

“Red Flag Laws” are getting a lot of attention, but I prefer the term Gun Violence Restraining Orders (GVROs). Something about the words “red flag” reminds me of “red herring.” But there’s a good reason for them. The theory behind this initiative is that people sometimes give us useful signals that they intend to commit violence—whether it’s against themselves or others—and if we act upon those signals by removing their guns we might sometimes prevent tragedies. But gun owners have legitimate fears that the system can be abused to their detriment. In order to amplify the good and minimize the bad, we need to build safeguards against a surveillance state that, in the wake of 9/11, has proved susceptible to overreach.If the process becomes punitive, not salutary, faith in the stated objective is defeated and people loss more respect for the laws and any changes are seen as new retributions to be opposed from the get go.A detailed description of a workable and fair policy can be found in David French’s article “A Gun-Policy Measure Conservatives Should Consider” from National Review of February of last year.

4. Learn what “assault weapon” really means.

Now let’s address the hottest hot button issue of gun politics, the dreaded “assault weapon” controversy. This is semantic doublespeak at its finest. Talk about two handy pejoratives— “assault” and “weapon.” Any gun can be an assault weapon if that’s your intent. This is just misleading labeling. These firearms are simply autoloading guns that fire one bullet each time the trigger is pulled. They have been around since the late 1800s and more than a third of the 400 million-plus guns in the hands of American citizens are semi-automatic. Fully automatic firearms (machine guns) are heavily regulated and rarely seen by police or used in crimes. I even gave Ronald Reagan an AR-15 in 1992, and, while he fired it, I don’t believe it turned him into a mass murderer.

The AR-15 rifle, the semi-automatic version of the military M-16—with their black polymer frames, and folding stock—may look scary to uninformed or misinformed pundits, but they function identically to grandpa’s old hunting rifle. Outlawing the sale of AR-15-type rifles might (over time) lower the number of incidents involving AR-15 rifles. But what would be the value if criminals and crazies alike merely substitute a far more powerful hunting rifle in a .308 or .30-06 caliber for the relatively underpowered .223 caliber common to the AR-15?

All guns bear certain common features that make them firearms. They are all capable of firing a bullet in the direction the barrel is pointed and they do so only when the operator of the device pulls the trigger. Any loaded firearm pointed at me is an “assault weapon,” and any loaded firearm in my hands is a defensive device that I can and will use to protect myself, my family and my community. In short, the issue is never the gun per se, but always, “in whose hands is the gun”? If we start asking the right questions in this conversation, we stand a chance at coming up with answers that have the support of gun owners—and that is key to any solution. We can then do something useful. But if we continue to engage in polemics over real policy, the center will not hold and nothing that benefits our nation will occur.

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