#gross but you know. gotta be thorough with my tagging

[evilwickedme]

Sorry, Batman was just the other big Jewish superhero with lots of adaptations I knew. Have you seen enough adaptations to do The Thing? Or honestly, do Superman anyway; he fits thematically if not literally

I would LOVE to do a ranking of Clark Kents based on how Jewish they are thank you so much

Worst of the worst is Henry Cavill's Superman. This is Jesus. Fuck this Superman stop portraying him as an otherworldly savior he is of the people he is Clark Kent not just a monstrous twisted version of Kal El !!!! (Sidenote this is also the only role I have ever disliked Amy Adams in.) Jesus himself might have been Jewish way back when, but Jesus metaphors are not, in any way shape or form, Jewish. -2022 years of Christian persecution of Jews/10

As much as this hurts me, next up is Smallville's Clark Kent. Tom Welling does an excellent job in the role and is my personal favorite, but I do have to admit it's at least partially nostalgia. The show opens by putting him on a cross. He redeems himself throughout the show, however, embodying more and more of the comic's spirit as the time goes on, and by the end it becomes very clear that Clark Kent and Kal El are one and the same, and that that is what gives Superman his strength. Accepting your Jewish name ahem Kryptonian identity alongside your goyiche passing name ahem human identity over the course of ten years is very Jewish. 6/10 but it gets some nostalgia points lbr

Next up is Christopher Reeve, may his memory be a blessing. I have only seen two of his Superman movies, but they are such a joy to watch. He truly understood the spirit of the character, the kindness and selflessness and need to help others that stands at the center of who Clark Kent is. His passing at such a young age was a tragic loss in so many ways, the ways he embodied Superman included. 8/10

Finally we have the original comic Superman (i.e. pre52 and post Rebirth, fuck all that n52 nonsense). This Superman is, quite simply, Moses. It was a clear metaphor written into his character by Jewish creators simply trying to express their identities as Jewish immigrants in the late thirties, and so much of that identity has survived the test of time. They gave him a Hebrew name, for God's sake! If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: Superman is the embodiment of Jewish principles of goodness. Making the world a better place is an action, and what better place to see that than in Action Comics? 10/10, we owe so much to Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel.

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: Part Twelve is finally here. I kept it longer, to kind of make up for the gap. It seems life doesn’t quite know when to settle down. So, I won’t make any undue promises. Instead, I’ll just offer this for today. Here we go... As always, feedback is incredible. If you want tagged, please send an ask or message so I am sure to see it. Same goes if I missed your tag. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Uncomfortable family dinner. Feelings. Talk of murder/attacks. Usual show violence. Smut. Outside sex. Minor blindfolding and ice play. Not enough editing. That’s all, I believe.

Word Count: Roughly 6,100

“So,” You played with the food on your plate as Sam spoke up to break the silence, “anything exciting happen since we left?”

You were with the boys in South Dakota. Sioux Falls to be exact. Sitting at Jody Mill's table next to Alex while Claire sat at the end, by Dean. Jody to your left.

Alex was graduating, and Jody had invited the boys out. You were simply a tag along to aid in your restlessness. And there wasn't a chance you were giving up the opportunity to finally meet the infamous Mills.

“Alex has another boyfriend.” The blonde spoke up, grinning mischievously. Knowing exactly the response it would garner. “Not a vampire this time.” Clarifying statements helped, but not enough.

“Oh, you do?” You bit back a grin as Dean's inner father escaped. He'd never admit it, but it was there. He cared about this family. Sam's brow rose, too. Equally alert. You felt for the poor girl. The boy could expect a visit if their expressions said anything.

“Shut up,” Alex shot Claire a dirty look. Sibling rivalry in full form. It was like looking at smaller, feminine versions of the brothers.

“Girls,” Jody's mom voice made you smile wistfully. You'd wanted to hear that dry, worn tone from a parental figure for as long as you could remember. Even if it wasn't directed at you, it warmed your soul. “Yes, she does.” She didn't sound pleased about the situation, but there wasn't any obvious animosity.

“He's a good guy.” Alex sighed out. Trying to smooth the waters. No doubt hoping this one wouldn't be beheaded, too.

“Uh oh.” Sam sipped on his drink, looking unimpressed as Dean settled back into his chair to lift his brows further. “One of those, huh?”

“One of what?” She definitely sounded defensive. With her family, she had every right.

“A Winchester type.” You clarified, making both brothers look at you as if you were a traitor. But, the shoe fit. “Good guys in a lot of ways, but come with a lot of trouble attached to them.” That was the understatement of the year.

Sam's lips hardened before a boot connected to your shin firmly. You barely held back the curse that wanted to slip out. He hadn't gone full force by any means, but it was enough to make you scowl his way all the same.

“Actually,” Jody spoke up, seeming kind of happy about your presence. “These guys were useless-”

“Jody... no.” Sam looked pained all of a sudden. Physically pained. His eyes averted to the table. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone. As if that would stop it.

“Oh, here we go.” Dean blew out a long puff of air, as if he had been hit in the gut. Reaching for his glass of wine. Draining it in one swoop. Both girls just looked resigned. Unable to escape from the table.

“Oh, now I'm intrigued.” You picked up your own glass. Taking a sip before immersing yourself into the family talk. “Hit me.”

“Birth control.” Jody left it at those two words. Nothing else was needed. However, the look in her eyes spoke volumes.

“Super important.” You nodded easily. Jumping into the fray without fear. “Literally, it's my lifeline. Kids aren't in the plan, right now.”

“See? I'm not crazy.” Jody pointedly looked at the young girls while ignoring the men at the table. Sam couldn't shovel food into his mouth any faster. It wasn't humanly possible. Dean was making good work of his wine for the second time. It was absolutely pathetic. Jody wasn't kidding when she used the word 'useless'. “And not just the pill, right?”

“Never just the pill. It's great for regulating periods, but this... this is your fall back guy.” You reached into your pocket. A foil pocket landed on the table. Almost as if you two had planned it. “And if that bad boy breaks, the morning after pill is a girl's best friend.”

A brief look of horror lined Sam's face before he pinched his eyes shut. Dean scowled deeply down at his plate. Refusing to make contact with anyone else.

“Thank you!” The mom's eyes were widened, as if she were crazed with relief.  Sam peeked back open to inspect the damage. “Someone who will back me!”

“Guys should have them with them, too. But, not always the case.” Your eyes locked with Sam's for a second before you shrugged. “Been there a few times. Gotta pack it up.” 

If it was possible, the boys settled further into their funk.Sam looking away, tongue in cheek, Dean glancing around the room. Jaw working all the while..

As the conversation shifted, another kick landed on your shin in response to your cheap jab. It took all your strength to keep your face straight and not return the favor. Instead, you slipped off your shoe. Planning to fight dirty.

Your foot trailed up his leg lightly, making him freeze. Tickling him with the light touch of your toes. A shuttering breath escaped his lips as the hazel gaze landed on you. The table was narrow enough that you could just reach enough of him to draw his attention.

You continued to talk, acting as if you weren't teasing the younger Winchester underneath the table. His muscles were tightly coiled as he avoided the conversation. His eyes holding all kinds of promises whenever they met yours. You two hadn't been alone since he'd infiltrated your room after the party.

Only, you weren't giving him the chance to make up for it in a home filled with people. As soon as dinner was over, you slipped away. Two blankets, more wine in a bucket of ice, snacks and more packed away. A note left behind.

Having lived in the state before, you knew the ins and outs of the climate South Dakota held. Your favorite thing? Those rare moments when Aurora Borealis peeked through the clouded nights. It had been a reprieve from your life back in the day. By some miracle, it was due to appear in the skies when you'd gone back. You weren't going to miss a minute of it if you could help it.

There was a small clearing in the woods near Jody's you had discovered that had a perfect view towards the north. Ensuring if it didn't cloud up, again, they would be vibrant against the black silk of night. It'd be your bed for the time.

You covered the ground with pine needles you'd swept together, creating a soft cushion against the chilled ground. The needles were covered with the one blanket to provide a barrier before you unbunched the second for warmth. A habit you'd picked up during cold, late night hunts in the woods before. Your jacket was used as a pillow. Waiting patiently, you eyed the sky. Finding as many constellations as you could to kill the time.

–

“I hope ya realize how gross it is to hear my best friend talk about packin' it up...so she can screw my brother,” Dean grumbled, handling dishes with Sam for Jody. Still snarling.

The minute you'd pulled out the condom and looked at Sam, he'd known. He'd found you out 'cause of that slip, after all. You hadn't been nearly as smooth as you'd thought.

“Oh, here we go.” Sam sighed out, having predicted this coming the minute you'd donned that foil packet. This wasn't the first discussion. Likely not the last, either. “Drop it, Dean.” Soap splashed from his hand as Sam practically tossed his brother the plate to dry.

“You want me to drop it?” Dean's voice dropped into a deadly low. Scrubbing harshly with the towel. The action being the only thing keeping the oldest from strangling the youngest. “I'll drop it when you stop sleeping with my best friend.”

It had taken a long talk, and every piece of Sam's persuasion skills to keep everything under wraps. Dean hadn't kicked his ass, miraculously. And wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. You wouldn't know that you'd been found out. That didn't mean he liked any of it, though.

Dean swore venomously that he would gladly send his brother to the hospital if you ended up hurt. Or pregnant. Or with crabs. Etc. He'd been very thorough in his list.

But, he wouldn't interfere. The only thing that had saved Sam's life was that Dean had heard you inviting Sam to his room. Not, the other way around. Thank god for small mercies...

“I'll stop when I want to.” He shrugged, “Or she wants to.” It was that simple in his mind. The full lips beside him pulled down further.

Dean shuddered in open disgust, “I still don't get it.”

“You don't have to.” Sam returned, running a sponge over the final plate. “Just know we're both consenting adults.”

“Sneaky, consenting adults.” Dean muttered. It wasn't that it had happened that bothered him so much. It was how you'd snuck around. And hadn't intended for him to ever know. The two people closest to him had played him for a fool. That was simply unforgivable.

“Dude,” Sam shook his head before repeating the same idea again. “Get over it.”

“I'll get over it when it's over.” He stated pointedly. Making his stance clear for the umpteenth time. “Maybe.”

“If Y/N and I can get past our differences-”

“Oh, please.” Dean snorted. Calling his brother on his bullshit without a moment of hesitation. “Past your differences? Ya had some kind of battle at dinner. You two aren't even close to past your differences.”

The mocking note in those final words brought out Sam's pettier side, “I can think of a time or two where they haven't mattered-” Water sprayed at him before that thought could be finished. “Dude!”

“I agreed to keep you alive and not tell her, Sammy.” Dean sent his brother a withering glare. “But, that doesn't mean I want anymore details.” His hand came out in defeat as he wilted, rubbing over his face. “I just can't wrap my head around it.. You two...shit, Sam...all you do is fight.”

“I haven't exactly figured it out, myself.” Sam replied. Solemn as he dripped water. Genuinely sorry that his brother felt any kind of weird over it all. But, he'd be damned if that stopped him.

-

Sam went out for a walk as night approached. Needing the cool, crisp air to clear his mind. To get it off of his brother. Off of you.

You'd run off somewhere. Left a note, saying you'd be back by morning. No text. No call. A few items missing. He had no idea when you'd left, much less to where. And it bothered him. A lot. And he was further agitated by the fact he was even bothered to begin with.

As he stewed, he almost missed it. The tiniest hint of smoke filled the air. He followed the scent. Ready to fight to the death if he had to in order to protect his family. Instead, he found something much more alluring than he'd anticipated.

He'd recognize that outline, anywhere. Your head was supported by a clumped up wad of cloth as you stared at the sky. Lower body wrapped, you looked almost too peaceful to disturb. A small fire, nothing more than a source of light, was going beside you. A white beanie was pulled onto your head to help keep yourself warm in the chilled night.

“Didn't know camping was your thing.” His voice made you jump and reach for your gun instinctively. Stopping once you realized it was Sam.

“How'd you find me?” You asked, your brow furrowing as you sat up. Hadn't anticipated on a Sasquatch stumbling along on your camp.

“Bad luck.” The way he said it had your lips tilted up. False loathing wasn't his strong suit. “What're you doing out here?”

“Did you know that the Northern Lights come down this far?” You looked back up to the sky that was quickly darkening. Waiting for the tinge of green to begin.

“Never really stopped to look.” He sauntered over to your blanket, his hands in his pockets still. It wasn't a proud admission. Simply another one of those things his lifestyle had prevented.

“I did.” You smiled lightly, but the look in your eyes said there was a story behind it. Before, he wouldn't have cared. But, in that moment? He wanted every detail. “It was the best part of living in the upper states. The winters can be shit...but then there's moments where the real beauty shines through. Almost makes it all worth it.” You patted the blanket beside you. Inviting the moose to the party. “Might as well wait. Add an experience to your list.”

“You've already added a few.” He pointed out, reaching for the wine you'd brought with. Taking a swig from the bottle, he rested on the thick material.

“Nothing wrong with living on the wild side.” You shrugged out. Not even the slightest bit ashamed. Sam couldn't help but to wonder if you'd feel the same once you realized it wasn't as secret as you thought.

“So, when are these things supposed to show up?” He demanded, looking up at the sky. Turning his thoughts away from the negativity Dean had wormed into his head.

“About another hour, maybe two.” You answered, taking the bottle back for a drink of your own. “There's time to kill.”

“And how do you want to do that?” His eyes glinted with heat that you reacted to, but pushed away.

“Let me play with your hair?” You suggested, making a point to look him dead in the eye. Letting him know you were serious.

“No,” He shook his head, letting the part of him you'd mentioned sway with the motion.

“Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip in a pout. “I'll let you have your filthy way with me when I'm done.”

“Selling yourself for that?” His brow came up. But, his lips tugged down into the dimpled smile that had rarely been bestowed on you.

“I know,” You huffed dramatically. Rolling your eyes as if it was the greatest task to endure. “It's amazing...the lengths I'm willing to go just to play with those luscious locks of yours.”

“That bad, huh?” Sam was unable to resist the small chuckle that escaped.

“Terrible.” You assured him, moving closer. “So, please?” Your eyes were batted in a full beg. “Make it worth my while, Sammy.”

“On one condition.” He held up his finger as you lit up in excitement. Instantly, your face fell in distrust. “We try something new-” You opened your mouth to protest. “As long as you're comfortable.” The quick amendment made you pause. Your eyes stared at his hair calculatingly as you debated on whether the hair was worth actually trusting him.

Finally you nodded, “Fine. Now...come to mama, Goldilocks.” He rolled his eyes, but moved over so that his back was turned to you. There wasn't a moment of hesitation.“I need to steal your shampoo and conditioner.” You sighed out as your hands brushed through the silky locks. No split ends, or damage anywhere to be found. Just nirvana.

“Well, we could always share later...” You could hear the grin with that husky undertone. It'd be risky in the bunker. But, hunts opened all kinds of new possibilities.

“Maybe.” Your own lips were etched into a smile as you stood on your knees. Turning away from the thoughts. “Now, hold still.”

“What're you doing?” He demanded, trying to turn his head around. You simply pressed his cheek back before you started braiding.

“Playing.” You responded easily. Focusing on the task. A small, simple rope rested in his hair before you spoke again. “Since we're doing cliché best friend shit? Time to spill a secret or two.” Teasing came easy as you used your fingers to start on another twist.

“One secret?” He nodded softly. Making you freeze at the thoughtful words. “Deal.”

“Wait, Sam...” You spoke up in a hurry. Dropping your hands as if he'd burned you. “I was kidding-”

“No, it's...It's fine.” He let out a breath. Sam didn't know where the urge came from. But, ignoring it wasn't an option out in the small oasis you'd created in the woods. “I'm the one who said we'd try something new, remember? Two seconds ago? How deep are we talking?”

“Well,” You chewed your lower lip. Regretting ever opening your mouth as you reached back up to his hair. “Girl talk can get pretty intense. But, considering this isn't girl talk? I'll let you decide.”

“Alright,” He settled more on the blanket; enjoying the feeling of your fingers rubbing along his scalp. “I still feel...feel guilty about abandoning Dean...back when he was in purgatory.” Your hands paused momentarily, but you went back to work. Absorbing the raw regret in his voice.

“Why didn't you look?” You asked quietly. Not sounding the least bit judgmental. Instead, simply opening the door for more explanation. Knowing he wanted to talk to someone about it. Just not understanding why it was you he'd chosen.

It was his turn to process that one. Trying to decide if he really wanted to open all the way up. Especially to you of all people.

“I...I...I thou...I thought he died.” He answered finally. Sounding broken at the thought. “I didn't think there was any bringing him back. Not ...Not without Cas...if...if it was even possible.” Sam remembered every moment his brother had been gone. How easily he'd given up. The way he'd let Amelia distract him.

“So, you tried to move on.” You finished softly. Moving your fingers to coax the tension that had appeared in him away. “Understandable.”

“N...Not in our world, Y/N-”

“I'm part of your world, Sam.” You stated softly, massaging his scalp. Earning a low groan of approval he hadn't even meant to release. “Trust me. It makes sense...none of it comes with a map. There was no... guidance. We figure it all out by going through all this shit...You had no way of knowing he was alive.” Your fingers moved down, rubbing along his neck before moving to his shoulders. The massage deepened. Demanding he relaxed. Listened. “When are you going to stop believing that you're the root of the problem, and start realizing that you're part of the solution? You and Dean both have done so much for this world...Even after all the bullshit it dumped on you two.” You took a break, deciding if he really needed the boost enough to get the next few words out. “Besides...Dean knows you care, still...You two are...You two are kinda goals when it comes to family closeness. Even with all the dysfunction.”

“Never thought that I'd hear that from you.” But, some of the tension left his body.

Absorbing the empowering words from a person who had every right to hate him. Someone who could have taken what he'd said and used it as a weapon. Someone who was causing him to get under his brother's skin, again. Adding to the damage that still existed. Even if you didn't know.

“Yeah, well... I never thought I'd say it to you, either.” Your lips pulled up. Smiling at him when he turned to look you in the eyes. Searching for the sincerity in the E/C. “Doesn't make it any less true, Sam.”

“So... what's yours?” He moved on, not wanting to dwell on his insecurities. Sitting straighter up as he pushed away his doubts involving his brother. A move to reassert himself as a man who didn't need to lean on someone else.

“Guess I gotta match it with one of the deeper ones, huh? I'll be honest...it's not as good as yours.” Your teeth sank into your bottom lip for a minute as your fingers slipped away from the chestnut locks. “My first kill? It was before I turned eighteen.” You shrugged as it didn't matter. But, there was more to the story. Sam could hear it in every word that escaped. The way your eyes wouldn't meet his when he turned spoke volumes. “You and Dean were hunting before then. So, it probably seems like no big deal. But...it...it really shook me up.” Still did based on the way your breath shook. “He...he wasn't even a monster.” You let Sam pull away. Believing that he was appalled. Only to find his hands reaching for you after he turned your way better. The hunter didn't hesitate. Tugging you until you fell into his lap. Needing to return the comfort you'd given him.“Well...not by our usual definition.”

“What happened?” He asked as softly as he could, his hands kneading along your tensed neck. Mimicking the way you'd touched him.

“He was abducting girls up by the Highway of Tears.” Memories clouded your vision. Taking you back to that time. “I'd gotten across the boarder. Trying to find something new...I was young. So...so sure that I'd be fine. He got a hold of me when my car broke down...so I did what I had to do.” Your finger trailed over a scar on your wrist. The only physical reminder that remained. Sam's gaze followed the movement. Curious, but not ready to push. “He didn't get a chance to cut deep before I broke free...I  ran...can't remember how long it was. It felt like forever before I couldn't go any further.” The Winchester had an imagination that couldn't be rivaled. He could picture it perfectly. You sitting against a tree. Bleeding. Terrified. Trying so hard to catch your breath. “I found a sharp branch. Must've broken off during a storm...he hadn't counted on that.” You took a long drink from the wine, letting it start to warm your blood. Needing the sensation to feel that much more alive. “I jammed it in his throat when he grabbed me...He'd left at least ten other girls in the foliage right off of the road. Who knows how many uncovered bodies.”  

“Jesus, Y/N...” He couldn't imagine the fear. How the guilt would've eaten at you.

His first kill had technically been a salt and burn. But, his first real kill had involved a knife and a woman determined to eat a piece of his brain. He'd been younger, but he'd been trained enough to take it better than a young girl on her own. Raised by two hunters that got him through it. You'd had no one to talk you down. To make sense of it all.

“I don't regret it.” You looked back at him. Making that much clear. There'd been too much time to dwell on it. To see it objectively. “I just wish that I had been a little older...maybe been with someone who'd been through it.” You shrugged it off as though it didn't matter. Despite the fact that it did. “After that? I always kept a blade on me. Just happened to be silver. My second kill was a werewolf...” Memory lane wasn't filled with happy. Another small shrug left you. “Dean thinks he was my first.”

“That's when you and Bane started hunting together.” Sam connected the dots. He'd heard enough about the wolf to fit the timeline together. Amazed that he was getting something his brother didn't know anything about.

“Yeah... He didn't tell me about the life before that. He'd actually run into Bobby when I was busy traveling through Canada....Seems like a life time ago.” The memories were bittersweet, then. So much history that had led you to the point where you were. “He assisted me with the wolf's body. Taught me what he knew... It got easier, then. Helped me realize that by taking out the bad? I was helping save the good. I needed that.”

“And then you turned into a bad ass.”

“And then I turned into a bad ass,” You agreed, turning to smile at him softly. Appreciating the attempt to cheer you up. “Bane doesn't even know about him.” Your eyes connected with the deep, soft hazel that rested above you. “He knows pieces... But, not...not all of it.” Wheels were turning in your head. That much was clear. Then, you spoke up again.“Yeah, I can't have you telling anyone about this. I only have two options here...” Teasing. Sam could live with that. It was easier than the dark and depressing. Familiar. “I have to kill you...or-”

“Or what?” Sam played along. His brow lifting as he waited for the answer.

“Or, you have to pinky promise not to tell anyone what was said out here.” You stuck out your pinky. Mouth tugged down in a mock frown.

“Really?” He laughed. Actually laughed. His head thrown back and all.

“I'm glad you find this amusing, but I'm serious.” You wiggled your pinky mullishly. “Come on! I'll agree to the same terms.”

“Fine,” He chuckled, wrapping his pinky around yours. Taking in the pinched expression you carried.

“Now, kiss your thumb.” You ordered before kissing your own. He did it, his hazel eyes still glowing in amusement. You pressed your thumb into his. “You break this promise? It becomes open season on moose men.”

“Deal...” His grip loosened. Moving instead to trace over the top of your hand. Hormones never seemed to settle when you were close. “Kissing my thumb was fun and all,” Sam grinned wolfishly your way. “But, I definitely know of something I'd rather kiss.”

“Oh, yeah?” You'd definitely caught his meaning. The heat in his eyes gave it away.

“Yeah.” His lips landed on yours gently. “Come here.” Orders usually fell short. But, with his mouth on yours? You were putty in his hands. Slowly, you let him tug you up until you were straddling his lap. “You know...I think we have a lotta time to kill until those lights make an appearance.” His thumb stroked your cheek almost tenderly as his eyes further darkened in the last bit of dusk and firelight.

“Sex outside?” Your arms wrapped around his neck. More than willing to take the distraction that he offered. “Sam Winchester...You're getting pretty adventurous.” Your lips ghosted over his, pulling back as he moved in to make full contact. “What happens if someone finds us?”

“Invite them to join the party, or ignore them.” He answered easily. Too set on what he wanted to give a damn. “You agreed to something new, Y/N... Don't back out now.”

“But did I pinky promise it-” You squealed as you were thrown beneath his body. Pinned down using nothing more than the heat of his body near you. “So forceful.” You got out breathlessly. “One of these days? We're going to have to switch roles. I never get to have any kind of control.”

“You already have too much, Y/N.” You didn't get a chance to process those raspy words before his mouth ceased conversation.

That dangerous tongue of his demanded entrance. Allowing it was second nature. Letting yourself become drunk off of the taste that was uniquely his mixed with the wine you'd both consumed. Your hands trailed over his body, opening his jacket. Getting closer to his skin.

Pieces of clothing were thrown as you two grew closer. More demanding. When you were naked and he was in nothing more than his boxers, Sam stopped. Looking over at the wine that was back in the ice- which was taking it's time melting.

“What?” You asked, still caged beneath him. The cool air in contrast to his body left goosebumps along your skin.

“Just how many new things can we get away with tonight?” His warm voice asked, sending more bumps along your flesh. The rough hand was busy running along your side as he glanced back at the bucket.

“Do it...” Your lips pressed into his collar bone. Giving your consent without even looking. Too horny to turn away anything he could come up with. At least, that was your excuse. “Whatever you're thinking? I'm in.”

“Just like that?”

“You haven't steered me wrong, yet.” You pulled his face back down to yours for a heated kiss. Encouraging him. “So, yeah... Just like that.”

“If you don't like it-”

“Sam... I get it. You'll stop.” It was sweet. Having someone care so much about needing your approval. You were starting to believe that you'd give into anything he asked of you. “Go for it.” His shirt was tied into a makeshift blindfold, covering your eyes. His body left yours for a minute, before it returned. As his lips pressed against yours, you felt the coolness. “Really?” You laughed, pulling away. “You watch 50 shades earlier, or what?” A cold drop hit your chest before you felt the ice press against your skin at the base of your throat. “You know what? It doesn't matter.” You huffed out, taking a shaky breath. You heard the small, muffled chuckle and could just picture his smug face, but that didn't matter as the ice moved.

The chill of the cube was combined with the heat of his mouth, creating an interesting combination as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your body. Cold swirling between your skin and him. He took his time, teasing. Trailing the ice over you.

Occasionally, it was left out on it's own to torture you instead of being combined with him. Other times, you only felt his lips, tongue, and teeth against your skin. He left little skin untouched by either. You never knew which to expect, or where. It drove you crazy as time faded away.

Sam Winchester had you moaning, gasping, and begging before he stopped. His favorite sound leaving you as he pulled away. You almost wilted in relief when the crinkle of the condom was heard. This time, you felt the blanket slide over your bodies as well when he was back over you.

As his lips pressed into yours, the blind fold was removed. He let your eyes adjust to the light from the fire. When they settled back on him, a small, not quite arrogant tug of his lips graced your view. At one point, it might have irked you. Instead, you pulled him back down to you. Kissing him deeply as you demanded more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him down where you needed. Luckily, he had no problems reading the silent language.

You cried out his name passionately as he pressed into you. Not bothering to be quiet in the wilderness. He growled in response; picking up his pace to make up for lost time. To hear that needy, broken note leave your throat again. And again. One hand was busy keeping his weight from crushing you. The other holding your leg open so he could hit where he needed to. His fingers were sure to leave marks on your skin as he pounded into you relentlessly. Marks he was sure only you'd see.

You'd be feeling it for days the way he was going. Would think of him slamming in deep every time you saw a bruise. But, that didn't make you want to stop. Instead, you moved with him. Your hands pulling on his hair to earn one of those sexy growls. Or, scratching along his back to drag out a feral groan. Digging into his ass to guide him along. Anywhere you could get them.

You weren't typically a screamer, but there was something about Sam that drug the shouts from your lips. As you crashed over your climax, your head flew back and one left you brokenly. A few more erratic thrusts and he found his own release. His own shout being lost to the wind before he practically collapsed in relief. He rolled off almost immediately, breathing as heavily as you.

Immediately his gaze turned to your face. Looking for any more of the regret that had been known to linger. Instead, he found you watching the sky. A small smile gracing the still swollen mouth. Hair splayed out along the pine bed. Slowly, he looked up to see what you had moved onto.

“Wow.” Sam breathed out as he started settling down.

“Is that in reference to the sky... or the sex?” You asked, turning your head to look at him for the first time. Drawing his attention back to your face.

“Both.” He answered, taking the time to look back at you with a grin before going back to the sky.  It was filled with green lights writhing lightly, mixed with some pink and even twinges of blue. They were brighter than you'd ever seen them before. “You weren't kidding.”

“No.” You smiled almost happily. “I wasn't.”

You two sat watching the skies quietly. Just enjoying the lights, the quiet, and each others presence. You weren't quite sure who made the first move, but you found yourself with your head resting on his shoulder. His heavy arm around your waist. Pinning your body to his under the blanket as he fell asleep. Once you were comfortable, and almost out, it clicked. You knew exactly what was missing, and your stomach dropped. You were falling for Sam freaking Winchester.

–

“Y/N!” Your lips twitched as the lisp ridden roar filled the air. All eyes turned to you. Not bothering to look up, the eggs in front of you were shoveled into your mouth. Simply waiting for the thundering buffoon to find his way to confrontation.

Finding a sense of safety in Sam Winchester's arms was unacceptable. It was pathetic how cozy you'd been. How easily you'd given up several of the rules that would ensure your protection.  Once the lights were gone and you'd gotten your distance, you'd turned the tables back to where they should've remained the entire time.

The furious rumbling didn't stop until the giant leered above you. Lazily, you lifted your gaze to the dark, injured hazel. “You good?”

“I thwear to god.” You'd managed to mix Orajel into his tooth paste. Coated his toothbrush in the brew. Extra strength. Apparently he'd let it sit before hunting you down. “Why?”

“I got bored.” You dropped all pretenses as your fork was set down. Stubbornly, your jaw tilted upwards. Daring him to challenge it.

Jody watched the exchange quizzically from her place at the head of the table. Claire seemed to enjoy the childish antics. Grinning in appreciation at the numb mouthed beast in front of her. Alex was simply tired. Uninterested in the early morning drama after the first roar had been released.

Dean, however, waited for your response. Brow raised as he inspected the closest people in his life duking it out. Again. Trying to sort out if there was any real animosity behind the actions, or if it was an attempt to disguise the most recent late night disappearances.

The younger Winchester had no trouble discerning the issue. He'd seen that cold, detached expression time and time again. You were throwing up your walls after a hint of intimacy. And damn if that didn't make his skin crawl.

It was you who was the threat to him. One complaint to Dean and he'd be thrown on his ass. A single wrong move and Bane would geld him. But, you? Everyone would back you. No matter how it went. There was nothing that should've sent you running backwards in his eyes.

His nostrils flared as he fought to prevent himself from throwing you over his knee and being done with it, “Thith ithn't over.”

“I know.” The fallen tone had Sam rocking back on his heels. As if all fight had left you with a single sentence. Slowly, you got to your feet. Leaving nothing but confusion in your wake as you turned away.

Part Thirteen

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​ @supernaturalginger​​ @lilulo-12​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​

LHYHM: @burningmusicmachine​​ @missmarrinette​​ @sherlockedtash88​​ @rathersuspiciousbumblebee​​ @sasbb23​​ @nothinbuttrouble2​​ @baby-bunker-pie​ @neii3n​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @malfoysqueen14​ @calaofnoldor​ @hhiggs​ @sydneytea​ @hoboal87​

[katranga]

Disclaimer: Fic is just for fun. Nobody on ao3, or tumblr, or wherever, is expecting perfection. Most of these tips are gonna take a little extra time and effort to implement, and if you don’t feel like doing that, because you just wanna post the darn thing? Go for it! I’m not here to tell you what to do, and I’m certainly not saying that your writing is bad if you don’t follow these tips. These are just suggestions that will hopefully help you improve your work, if that’s what you’re after.

Intro: Why Revise?

To kick things off, I’d like to go over the importance of revision!! This is more of a general writing tip, but it’s a great starting point, because I DON’T want you to be thinking about most of my future tips while you’re writing the first draft. 

I want you to get. those. words. on. the. page! That’s all you should be worried about when you’ve got a blank page staring you in the face. 

There’s so much pressure to get writing right the first time, but I’m here to tell you that’s pretty much impossible. So, pressure’s off! Just write the basics so you get to know your story first. I

I know it seems like writing it perfectly will save you editing/revising time later on, but you can’t revise—let alone post—what you don’t have written because you’re stuck on one line that doesn’t sound just right. You with me so far? Great!

Honestly, writing gets so much faster when you remind yourself that no one is going to see your first draft!

So I cannot overstate the importance of revision.

Because guess what? Everything you don’t like about your first draft can be fixed in revision!

Okay. What is it?

To clarify, when I say first draft, I don’t mean the stuff you do in high school, where you write out a shitty essay on paper first and then type it up basically the same, just to prove to the teacher you wrote a first draft?? Or whatever.

I mean you just write the absolute basics of your story down, and fill in the rest and perfect it later (I’ll go into detail about how exactly to do that in my motivation post).

Now, grammar, spelling, and overall readability, are all important things to fix before you post. But that’s little stuff, and your word processor will be able to pick up on some of that, and just rewording a few sentences to make them clearer probably won’t take too much effort on your end (though I am gonna have a post about filler words and clarity and stuff like that, so if that tends to be a problem for you, I gotchu).

Besides basic grammar/spelling, most of what I change as my first draft transforms into my second or third is: 

Improving the flow of a scene (it can’t all be dialogue, unfortunately)

Pacing throughout the fic (are they falling love too fast? is this scene too long? etc)

Overall clarity (I know why the character did that, but will the reader?)

It may be different for you. Basically, you’re polishing up whatever you didn’t worry about writing the first draft.

My first drafts, for example? They’re 80% dialogue. Because that’s my favourite! And that’s what comes to me when I’m dreaming up fics. But then I go back later and beef up the rest—the characters’ movements in a scene, their inner dialogue, description etc.

Because as much as I love dialogue, scenes feel empty and too-fast with just characters talking. Similarly, scenes can feel bogged down and slow with just characters thinking about things.

But revision isn’t just about adding things! Sometimes you need to take stuff out. Inner dialogue that later gets covered by dialogue? Cut it. (Or vice versa—maybe the detail isn’t important enough for the characters to talk about, and just the mention of it within the narration is enough).

The point is, repetition needs to go. The reader rarely needs to be told the same thing twice.

Quick example from the top of my head:

Lance had lost his jacket. He’d looked over the whole castle for it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. His brother gave him that jacket. One of his last ties to Earth, and it was missing in action.

Maybe Keith took it to spite him, that jerk.

“What’s up, Lance?” Hunk asked when he passed him in the hall.

“I lost my jacket!” Lance said. “My signature jacket, the one Marco gave me! I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s gone. Do you think Keith stole it?”

Same information twice: Lance can’t find his brother’s jacket despite a thorough search, and suspects Keith stole it. No reason to repeat that. Something’s gotta go.

I know cutting stuff isn’t fun. You worked hard on that! You spent hours/days/whatever perfecting a sentence until it gleamed like a diamond, and now just because you thought of a better way to get that information across you have to get rid of it? No way!

I’ve been there, trust me. But hanging on just slows down the whole writing process. Because, for me at least, I know when stuff needs to go, or needs a massive overhaul, or whatever. I’m just digging my heels in because I don’t wanna do any additional work.

Luckily, this is where your shitty first draft comes in handy! If all you did was spit words onto the page as soon as they entered your head, then you didn’t spend a lot of back-breaking effort on whatever you need to cut! And what you need to cut isn’t anything awe-inspiring, it’s just your rough notes, so tossing it aside isn’t nearly as stressful!

Remember, you can always save scenes/dialogue/etc in a separate document! Maybe you’ll be able to salvage some it later. Alternatively, create separate versions of the doc as you edit/revise. If you end up actually needing part of a deleted scene, you’ve still got it somewhere!

And please, never think of the stuff you cut (or fics you never finished) as “wasted time”. Writing time is never wasted! You’re practicing, you’re honing your craft, and even if some bits never see the light of day, you’re still benefitting from all that work you did!

Now, I know I know I know most people edit/revise as they write. Can’t think of the next scene? Reread the previous scene and fiddle with it until something comes to you. That’s great! Revising already written material is loads better than just staring at your screen!

BUT I’ve recently started writing the whole gosh darn diddly thing without looking back and that is so much faster! While I highly recommend it, that’s obviously difficult to do when you don’t know what’s going to happen next in the fic.

Or if you just don’t have the motivation. So! That’ll be our next topic: Getting words on the page!

But for now, I’ve got an example under the cut, as well as additional resources and links if you want to learn more about revision!

Here’s where I take an old embarrassing fic of mine and revise it, hopefully clarifying the points I’ve been making, as well as proving that only practice makes better!

Okay so this is an excerpt of one of my unpublished fics from 2011. I’m just gonna be honest with you here, it was a Twilight human!AU where Edward was a massive nerd. 

For background, Bella has been at the new school like a week and is appalled at the bullying happening to Edward, who she barely knows. (It’s first person bc that’s how the books were written. Just deal with it.)

Here we go:

“They gave him a swirly yesterday,” I announced, appalled.

“Who?”

“Edward!”

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “Nothing new.”

“Well what are they, twelve?” I demanded angrily.

“He kind of needed a hair wash,” Mike muttered.

Snorts of amusement followed.

“Stuffing his head into a toilet is not funny,” I argued.

“Yes it is, Bella,” Alice chuckled.

“Kay, next time we go to the bathroom, I’ll shove your head into a toilet,” I offered. “And we’ll all laugh about it.”

This was a whole scene, I kid you not. Now, this isn’t bad because it’s just dialogue. It’s ten lines. That’s a reasonable amount of space for a quick dialogue exchange. HOWEVER, there’s about four people in this scene, so the dialogue tags are a little sparse. ALSO, this is the first time Bella’s bringing her concerns about Edward to the group, so there should be more inner reflection on that.

Overall, it’s just way too minimalist lol. So  this is a good example to beef up.

First of all: where the fuck are we? Notice how no setting was given? Not the greatest habit to get into. If it’s already been established in the fic where people are, and the setting’s not that important, I guess you can skip it, but a quick mention isn’t gonna hurt. You don’t want the reader confused!

Since this a Twilight fic, let’s say they’re in the caf. (In Voltron fics, you’re probably gonna be on the ship, but you can always mention what room they’re in. Or, if it’s a new planet, give a line or two of description).

Explanations for changes I made are in [square brackets]:

I tossed my lunch tray onto the table before throwing myself onto the chair next to Alice. “They gave him a swirly yesterday.”

[Indicated setting. Also implied she was feeling “appalled” using verbs instead of outright stating it. Showing not telling!]

Across from me, Angela looked up from the sandwich she was picking at. “Who?”

[Indicated who was speaking—always important—as well as gave brief description of speaker].

“Edward,” I said like it should be obvious. I scanned the cafeteria for him, but the corner he usually sat in alone was empty.

[Another mention of setting. Also backed up her concern for Edward with action and not just talking about him].

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “So what?”

“So?” I repeated incredulously.

So I’d never heard of someone actually getting a swirly. In real life. Shitty teen dramas? Yeah. Actual high school? No. It was ridiculous, and gross, and… I hadn’t seen anything to indicate Edward deserved it. (Nobody who’d ever deserved a swirly had ever received one, I was sure).

[The almighty character motivation! Note that you don’t actually have to explicitly state why they’re doing something—obviously we as the reader know the deep-down motivation is because Bella cares for Edward. But characters are not always forthcoming with information, even to themselves. Right now she’s focusing on the unjustness of the situation, and partially trying to convince herself that’s all it is].

Mike slung an arm across the back of Jessica’s chair, snorting a laugh. “He needed to wash his hair, anyway.”

“A toilet’s not gonna do that, Mike!”

[Just a cleverer response. Also, a dialogue tag isn’t needed, because no other speaker at the table is gonna be defending Edward. We know it’s Bella.]

He ignored my glare, choosing instead to steal a fry off my plate. I smacked his hand away.

[Again—action. The characters aren’t just static in their seats.]

“Well, really,” Alice began. “What’s it matter?” She sat up sharply, an idea just now occurring to her. “You haven’t been making friends with him, have you? I told you, Bella, it’s social suicide!”

[Gives Alice a chance to respond to Bella’s outburst—in this AU Alice is very concerned with popularity and does not want Bella associating with Edward. She would definitely have a problem with Bella sympathizing with Edward.]

I rolled my eyes. “No, I just…”

The whole situation was ridiculous. This wasn’t how people should be treated. Was I the only one who realized that? Was I really the only one who cared?

“Whatever,” I grumbled, crunching down on a fry.

[This feels like a more natural resolution to the conversation. Alice directly asks why Bella cares, and Bella reiterates to herself it’s just because. And then decides it’s not worth the argument. This is 2k into an (unfinished) 30k fic. She’ll make a bigger deal out of stuff later.]

Now it looks more like a real scene! 

So, to summarize, I added: Description—both setting and character! Character musing! Cleverer comebacks! 

These are just some of the things that you can fix with a keen-eyed round of revision.

--

And that about wraps this up! I didn’t want this to get too long, but it did anyway. (I’m sorry about the graphics I’m a writer, not a graphic designer. But I had to split the post up so it wasn’t one big block of text)

Was any of that helpful? Was it too long? Did the example clarify things? Let me know, I wanna make sure these tips are helpful!

--

Additional Resources That I Highly Recommend:

DRAFTING: THE THEORY OF SHITTY FIRST DRAFTS -- This post probably explains shitty first drafts better than I ever could! If you still have concerns about it, definitely check it out.

Editing & Revision Answerathon -- Okay, this video is pretty long, but I looove Max Kirin for anything writing-related and especially revision!! They’ve got a tumblr and a Youtube account filled with writing tips! If you like getting your writing info through videos, definitely check out their stuff.

Top 5 Writing Tips: Revision -- Here’s an infographic by Max if you don’t want to watch a 44 minute video lol. Also, you can go through their /tagged/revision for more!