#had collins actually spent more time with any of the characters. rather than leaving them like npcs

[roobylavender]

if we’re criticizing thg, i would like to say the quiet part out loud irt to why finnick’s death fucked with so many people’s heads: collins killed finnick off in the same book where she revealed the level of brutality he faced irt to sexual trauma at the hands of the capitol, after using it as reasoning for finnick’s inability to be a figurehead for the revolution. in addition, she did so after taking the time to fully establish just how much he & annie were each other’s support as deeply traumatized individuals, in a way i’d argue was a better thematic reinforcement than any relationship katniss could’ve ever ended up in. if any death was pointless, it was his. i’d go as far as to call it gratuitous, even, considering the manner of death and the almost… sensationalist nature of it…. like, he was killed by lizard-dogs.

and look, death is random, i get the point. that doesn’t mean it was executed well, or that the right character was used to make it.

idk, even as someone not as aggravated by the series as you are, and as someone who can still relatively enjoy it while making criticisms, it’s irksome to see people hum and hah about finnick’s death. they want to complain without ever saying why it left such a bitter taste in the mouth. but there is a very big why to talk about, and its just as relevant to the overall political commentary as the rest of the series! also to comment on district 13, it’s funny because i initially read them as the neoliberal extreme to the facist extreme of the capitol, with katniss being the one who wanted to burn it all down, so i guess not quite hitting her point is a habit for collins. or maybe i just need to give it a more sober reread as an adult, lmao. (but oh, speaking of, don’t read the prequel. ever. save yourself, it could be classed as a form of torture. it’s bad and a waste of time. like oh my gosh the essay i could write about all the horrible neo-liberal ass-showing that takes place. holy fuck)

yeah and like personally the thing that additionally irritates me is we don't even really get to know finnick. or any character outside of katniss and peeta really. every other relevant character is merely a face with a few key attributes or background trauma but they don't feel like actual people so the deaths not only feel pointless bc they're there for shock value but also bc i feel like i don't even have any connection to the characters who are dying. like she's so bare bones in the writing and overwhelmingly plot focused that it leaves most everyone barely any room to actually develop or become fully realized as people so it ends up being a read rife with senseless drama all to make a very watered down point about how "all violence is bad" and "the oppressed can be as bad as the oppressors"

[zozo-01]

To Fight So Hard (To Lose So Quietly)

Sigh. I did say I was going to hurt Darlin if the Leafs lost their series. So here we are. (I take no pleasure in this, but I need to take my feelings out on someone and Darlin is right there.)

Thank you to @thatlesbeanjew for beta reading this story for me! And for also telling me that Sam’s name is actually ‘Samuel.’ I did not know this while writing so for the sake of me putting in ‘fluff’ in this story, we’re just going to assume that Sam’s name is just ‘Sam’.

[If you're looking for more hurt, may I recommend 'To Love the Sun (To Be Stuck in the Dark)'.]

CW: Major Character Death, Blood, Injuries, Hurt/No Comfort, Angst 

--

They’d finally done it. The bastard’s dead.

In theory, that should be good news. They should be jumping for joy, spitting on Quinn’s dead body, and calling everyone to tell them that the threat is over. They’d finally dealt with their problems.

But that’s easier said than done, especially when there’s more blood outside of the body than there is inside.

Darlin’ lay in a pool of their own blood in incredible pain. They can feel their ribs grinding against each other with every breath they take. They’re more than sure they have more open wounds than clear skin. And fuck, if the bastard hadn’t given them the worst headache they’ve ever had. 

It was worth it, right?

They achieved what they sacrificed everything for. They gave up their place in the pack, however minor it might have been. They lied to their Alpha for a whole damn year. They had spent countless, restless nights and exhausting mornings for this very moment. The moment that ensured that Quinn couldn’t hurt them, the pack, or anyone else ever again.

A numbness began to overtake them. Darlin’ couldn’t tell whether it was from the cold air around them or from deep within. One thing was for sure: That numb feeling was becoming harder and harder to ignore. They weren’t a stranger to the sensation, though. It had become a defence mechanism from when they were younger. Nothing could hurt them if they were never fully there. However, that had stopped being true a while ago. A lot of things stopped being true a while ago.

Samuel Collins had come into their world as abruptly as they did his. Conscious or not, he’d made the decision to ruin some of the fundamental rules of life they’d held so strongly. 

If he was listening to their thoughts, Sam would have rolled his eyes. “My name isn’t short for Samuel, Darlin’, it’s just Sam,” he would chide them. “Well maybe it’s more fun to say ‘Samuel Collins’ instead of just ‘Sam Collins’,” they would reply cheekily, with a smirk to match. By the magic flowing through their veins, would they do anything to continue to have moments of banter. They would do anything to continue having moments with Sam.

For so long Darlin’ believed that they could disappear without anyone noticing, or even caring. That they possessed the ability to pop in and out whenever they pleased, free of any repercussions. A natural skill that can be only rivalled by the magical abilities of a stealth. They’d pulled that same vanishing act on David too many times to count. The more distance put between them and him, the easier it was for them to pull it off. Most notably so when they had asked to leave for Washington after their friend was attacked.

Darlin’ doesn’t blame David for believing them. They’d never blame any of the pack, save for their Alpha, for not once checking upon them. For as long as they can remember, they had felt like a ghost within their own body. After all, a ghost can do as they please outside of the will and desires of others. And no one of their right minds would ever be foolish enough to hunt down a ghost.

Sam had always known when Darlin’ would leave. A skill that would come in handy with the amount of times Darlin’ has tried to leave unnoticed in group settings.

Sam had invited them to join him at a Solaire clan meeting. After a… rather heated talk between them and the pretty vampires that sat next to William, Darlin’ needed a moment alone to calm themselves. As they made their way out and away from the clan’s main building, their mind replayed every insult she had thrown at them. 

“Sam has always gone after broken toys. You and I are no different. One day you will hurt him the same way I did.” 

Sam had watched them get up and quickly followed. He was patient, gave them the time and space to breathe, before approaching them to take their hand in his. They would forever appreciate the effort Sam took that night to find them; to whisper in their ear all the reasons his maker had been wrong in what she’d said. “I have never once thought of you the same person as her. You aren’t broken, and even if you were, you spent time fixing yourself. That, my Darlin’, is truly the most admirable thing about you.” 

As much as Darlin’ hated to admit it now, as they lay on the ground bleeding out, Alexis had been right. It no longer mattered how kind or earnest his words had been. They’re going to hurt Sam with this in a way they’d never wanted nor dreamed of ever putting him through.

Of course, it’s that stupid (incredibly intelligent), southern (dear God, did they love his accent), (handsome) cowboy of theirs that plagues their mind in their final minutes. 

And therein lies the issue.

Darlin’ didn’t want to die here.

They wanted to live so that they can see Asher and Milo bicker, with Milo’s mate egging them on, in turn making the argument between the two wolves worse. David and Asher’s mate rolling their eyes at their antics. David’s mate laughing their ass off and being the menace they are.

They wanted to see Vincent and his partner and gag teasingly at how disgustingly adorable the pair is. To see William watch his progeny and the former electro-energetic with fondness in his eyes. A petty part of themselves wanting to tell Alexis off, to prove her wrong in that they’d never hurt Sam. 

And Sam. Fucking Sam. He will forever be the best thing to happen in their short life. There was so much more they wanted to do with him. They wanted to move in with him properly. To wake up to his handsome face every single day. To slow dance in their kitchen. Sam may call them his sunlight, but to Darlin’ there’s nothing that shines and illuminates their world as brightly as the way his smile does. There’s nothing that warms their very core the way his arms do. What they would give to feel his warmth right now.

They’re cold. So damn cold and so damn tired. But they refuse to give up. Like hell they’re going to give that fucking leech one last win. 

‘So get up.’

‘Please. I want to see Sam again. I need to live. I’ll do anything. I’ll fucking become a vampire, give up my wolf side. Please, just once do this one thing for me, you fucking shitty world. Let me live so I don’t hurt him!'

‘Get up…’

‘… Sam, I love you, and I’m so sorry we didn’t have more time.’

[440mxs-wife]

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 8: Communication Breakdown

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 8 Word Count: 3600+

Warnings: This is going to be a bit angsty. Confrontations, Misunderstandings and Threats, oh my!

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

A/N2: I would like to thank everyone for your support and your comments so far. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am having fun writing it.

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So let me get this straight....You cornered her and accused her of using some sort of trickery or magic to win the equestrian event. You were close enough to snap the locket off of her neck, but for some reason, I STILL DON'T HAVE IT?!?" Lucifer roared.

"It's not my fault! She ducked out of the way just in time, then her 'adoring fans' swarmed us in the courtyard. They jostled me around until I lost track of her," Lady Serena shot back.

"What is it with this woman?!?" Lucifer thundered. "Every time I think I have her cornered, she finds a loophole and gets out of trouble," he muttered as he paced the room.

"She and Prince Dean have been getting rather cozy lately," Lady Serena retorted. "Should I do something to break them up?" she asked.

"That particular issue is none of my concern at the moment, Serena. I have many more pressing issues that require my attention at the moment. Perhaps it's time I paid Lady Kira a visit myself. See if I can convince her to view things from my perspective," Lucifer replied ominously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The evening meal consisted of roast beef, potatoes and other assorted vegetables. Since Kira took first place in both competitions, her place at the table was next to Prince Dean. At various times during the meal, their hands would meet briefly under the table. After dessert, Kira wandered out on the terrace for some fresh air.

She placed her hands on the balcony railing and gazed up at the stars. She felt warm hands on her nearly bare shoulders and turned to see it was Prince Dean. "Good evening, Lady Kira," he remarked.

"Good evening, Your Highness," Kira replied, with a slight curtsy. "Lovely, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, you are, sweetheart," he murmured against her hair.

Kira smiled and laughed softly. "Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate the compliment, but we've talked about this. I need to go back to my world, and for that reason, I can't have any 'entanglements' while I'm here. Just friends, remember?"

"You are absolutely correct, and I apologize. Perhaps you'd like to join me in a moonlight stroll through the garden, Lady Kira? Just as friends?" Prince Dean asked.

"Thank you very kindly for your offer, but after today's excitement, I'm thinking of turning in early. I would, however, love to accept your invitation, should it be offered at another time," she answered.

"You have only to ask, Lady Kira. Until tomorrow, then," he kissed the back of her hand, then pulled her close and brushed her cheek in a chaste kiss.

"Until tomorrow," Kira whispered.

Kira could feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she made her way up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she leaned against the closed door, a thoughtful smile on her lips. The smile quickly faded when Kira saw Sarah standing against the wall, a look of sheer terror on her face. Kira also noticed that she had an unwanted guest in her room. "What exactly are you doing in here?" Kira demanded.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For Prince Dean, everything was falling into place. When his mother and father first announced this tournament to find him and Samuel a bride, Dean was skeptical that it would be successful. That was before he spent time with Lady Kira. Someone with her weapons skills and ability to handle a horse would be a definite asset to their hunting efforts.

But it was the woman herself that he found most interesting. Lady Kira was smart, kind and not afraid to speak her mind. She'd told him time and again that she didn't belong in this world, but that there is a Lady Kira that's stuck in her world. Prince Dean wondered how alike the two women were, if at all. He decided that once everything was made right again in the multiverse, he would do what was necessary to seek out his Lady Kira.

Strolling through the garden, Prince Dean noticed a yellow rose in perfect bloom on one of the bushes. Using his knife, he cut the stem and smiled to himself as he removed the thorns. He couldn't wait to see the look on Lady Kira's face when he presented her with this small token of his friendship for her. Prince Dean raced up the stairs to her room. He paused before knocking on the door because he heard another voice in her room, a male voice. The prince put his ear to the door and strained to hear their conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Lucifer. What do you want?" Kira demanded.

"Relax, Lady Kira. I only want to talk. I understand you have a valuable piece of jewelry in your possession. A piece with tremendous power that could be dangerous in the wrong hands," Lucifer remarked.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucifer. The only jewelry I brought with me is one of sentimental value. I've been wearing it every day in honor of my mother," she explained.

"Oh come now, Lady Kira, let's not kid ourselves," Lucifer chided. "We both know that locket of yours has more than just 'sentimental value'. It can allow travel between dimensions across the multiverse. For instance, you don't belong to this dimension, do you?" he asked.

"So, what of it? You don't actually think I'll give it to you, do you? I've dealt with you before, and I know what you're capable of. There's no way I will do anything that will disrupt the balance of power," Kira retorted.

"That kind of power is too much for one person or even one archangel to hold," he acknowledged. "But....if you and I were to control it together....we could rule the multiverse! Just think of the possibilities, Lady Kira! Unlimited travel, untold adventure, endless discovery," he remarked.

"Yes, all of that may be true. However, when you get tired of sharing with me, you'll snap your fingers and I'll be blinked out of existence," she reminded him.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're a lovely woman, Lady Kira. Smart, sassy but with a good sense of humor. I find all that rather appealing," Lucifer said softly.

"The locket is one of the only ways I can get back to my world, something I am deeply committed to. I need to get back to Sam and Dean--" she started.

"Who, at this very moment, are being watched by my best demons. The minute things don't go my way in this dimension, they will strike. I truly cannot guarantee that Sam and Dean will come out alive," Lucifer threatened, his eyes glowing red.

"You wouldn't dare," Kira whispered, knowing full well he was serious. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her skirts. She sauntered over to Lucifer, stopping in front of him with very little space between them. Kira ran her hands up his chest and placed them on his shoulders. "I can see you're rather invested in making this work between us, Lucifer," Kira replied. She moved her hands to either side of his neck, teasing the hairs at the base.

Lucifer shuddered in response, telling Kira that what she was doing was having the desired effect. "I am, Lady Kira. With you ruling by my side, no one would be able to stop us," he grinned.

Prince Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. All the time they had spent getting to know each other, becoming close friends. She was so adamant about getting back to her home dimension without 'entanglements'. He could see now that she was just stringing him along, feeding him lies while someone else was already waiting in the wings. He dropped the rose at her doorstep in defeat and returned to his room.

"Mmm hmm. However, there's just....one problem, Lucifer." Raising her voice, "It'll be a cold day in that Hell you came from before I ever give up this locket," Kira snapped. "Now, get out of my room before I call for Castiel or one of his guards," she threatened.

Lucifer yanked open the door and turned back one last time. "You'll regret this, Lady Kira. Mark my words: one way or another, that locket will be mine," he retorted as he slammed the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as Lucifer left the room, Kira collapsed on her bed. She had just gone toe-to-toe with the Great Satan and lived to tell the tale. Sarah timidly stepped away from the wall and walked over to where I was sitting. "Can I get you anything, Miss? A glass of water, perhaps?" she asked.

Kira was in such a state of shock that all she could do is nod her head. As Sarah turned to leave, Kira took her hand. "Sarah, I am so very sorry that you had to go through this. You were very brave, though," Kira told her.

"Thank you, Miss. So were you," she replied, then left to get Kira a glass of water.

What was she going to do? Lucifer said he had his best demons watching Sam and Dean's every move, and could strike at any moment. Kira had to have faith that they could defend themselves against the demons. Kira knew she couldn't do the unthinkable, which was to hand over the locket to Lucifer. This is going to be a long few days, she thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Kira put on a pale yellow day dress and went looking for Prince Dean. She wanted to see if the offer for a tour of the gardens was still available. When she reached the stable area, she noticed Collins was saddling a horse, getting it ready for someone to ride.

"Good morning, Collins!" Kira called cheerfully. He removed his hat and bowed. "Good morning, Lady Kira. Brilliant riding yesterday, milady. I knew you would carry through to victory," he beamed at her.

Kira blushed at his compliment and thanked him. "Have you seen Prince Dean this morning? He mentioned something last night about a tour of the gardens, and...." her voice trailed off as she saw him with Lady Serena. She had her hand tucked under his arm, his head bent towards her as if sharing a secret. When he leaned back, she threw her head back in laughter.

Kira started to feel sick to her stomach at seeing the two of them together. She felt as if the time they'd spent together becoming close friends had meant nothing to him. Kira turned to leave, but not before Lady Serena called out, "Oh, good morning, Lady Kira!" She froze on the spot and waited for the prince and Lady Serena to catch up to her position. When Prince Dean caught Kira's eyes with his, they held none of the affection they once showed. "Good morning, Lady Kira. I trust you slept well," he said coldly.

She curtsied, "Good morning, Your Highness. Yes, thank you, I did sleep well," Kira responded, even though her sleep was anything but restful. "Please excuse me," she curtsied again and left before the first tear could fall. Kira heard her name being called behind her, but there was no way she was going to stop until she had reached her room.

Someone caught her hand and stopped her. Kira turned and found herself face-to-face with Prince Samuel. "Lady Kira, is everything all right?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, Your Highness. Everything is fine," Kira replied.

"I think we both know that it's not," Prince Samuel said as he guided her to a stone bench in the courtyard. "I can see that you're upset. Did something happen between you and my brother?" he asked. "One minute he's spending as much time as possible with you, and now he's turning to Lady Serena? What happened?" he asked again.

"I really don't know, Your Highness. I wish I did, because I can feel my heart breaking," Kira sniffled.

"Think back to last night. I saw the two of you at dinner, so I know something was going on between you two. Not that I mind, I want my brother to be happy, and it's been a very long time since I've seen him so," he remarked.

Kira thought back and relayed last night's events to Prince Samuel. Prince Dean asked her to take a midnight stroll in the garden just as friends. She said she wanted to turn in early, then she found Lucifer in her room. "We talked, he threatened me, I sassed him back, that's all I remember," Kira explained. "Wait a minute."

"What?" he asked.

"Well, Lucifer wants me to give up my locket. It's a 'charmed object' that would allow him free movement throughout the multiverse. When he was trying to convince me, he was sort of....flirting with me, complimenting me. At first I was repulsed, then he threatened my friends in my home world," she explained.

"Okay, then what?" Prince Samuel queried.

"Then I decided to pretend to flirt with him, make him think he was succeeding," Kira said. "It seemed to be working, but then I told him it would be a cold day in Hell before I would hand over my locket and kicked him out of my room. I remember looking down before I closed the door and saw....Oh my," she whispered.

"You saw....?" Prince Samuel prompted.

"A single yellow rose. Do you think that Prince Dean heard my conversation and thinks....oh no," Kira said in horror before bursting into tears. Prince Samuel took her into his arms to comfort her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lady Serena looked over and saw Prince Samuel with his arms around Lady Kira. "Some people have no consideration for others' feelings," she shook her head sadly.

"Why do you say that?" Prince Dean asked as he followed her gaze towards Prince Samuel and Lady Kira. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the woman he thought he could trust, wrapped up in his brother's arms. "How about we visit the marketplace, hmm?" he said tightly as he steered them both out of eyesight of his brother.

"As you wish, Your Highness," Lady Serena said smugly as she allowed herself to be led out of the courtyard.

Collins had been watching the entire scene very carefully. He knew of Prince Dean's deep friendship with Lady Kira. Even from a distance, he could tell that something wasn't right between them at the moment. He decided to keep an eye on them and to try and figure out what was going on.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Prince Samuel knew there had to have been some sort of misunderstanding between his brother and Lady Kira. He saw how they were at dinner the previous night, and he could tell she brings Dean happiness. Something he hadn't seen in his brother for quite some time.

When Lady Kira told him about her conversation with Lucifer, he'd bet the crown jewels that Dean was listening at the door. He may have heard Lucifer flirting with her, but probably didn't hear her reject him and throw him out. Prince Samuel made up his mind to talk some sense into his brother.

Prince Samuel pulled back from embracing Lady Kira and bent down to look in her eyes. "Listen, I'm going to talk to him, see if I can straighten things out. I've seen the two of you, and you have a great thing going. I know you said you don't exactly belong here and need to get home. But I haven't seen him trust someone or be this happy around another woman except you," he explained.

"That's very sweet of you to say, Your Highness," Kira replied. "And I wish it were true. Looks like he's made his choice to end our friendship and shift his attention to someone else. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to return to my room. Good day, Prince Samuel," she remarked as she left. Prince Samuel stared after her, watching as she retreated to her room.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness," Sam heard as he turned to see Collins standing next to him.

"Yes, Collins? What is it?" he asked.

"We've just received word that there's been an animal attack two towns over from here in the Eastern Province. A few hours' ride from here, maybe less. Shall I fetch Prince Dean and Castiel?" he inquired.

"Yes please, Collins. Tell them I'll meet them back here in 15 minutes," Sam told him. Collins nodded and ran off to tell Prince Dean and Castiel about the hunt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira came back from breakfast rather suddenly, and with red, puffy eyes. Rowena went to see her in her room and ask what had happened. Between sobs, Kira told Rowena what she saw with Prince Dean this morning. "Don't you worry, dearie. Auntie Rowena is going to get to the bottom of this, you'll see," she assured Kira.

"I hope so, Rowena, because I miss my friendship with Prince Dean, and I miss my Dean at home," she choked out.

Rowena came over and gathered Kira in an almost motherly embrace. "Och, sweet child, I know your heart must be achin' somethin' fierce. I'm sure there's a miracle right 'round the corner, a way to get home. We just have to be patient and find it, darlin'," she soothed in her lilting accent.

A whooshing of wings was heard and a familiar figure appeared before them. A playful smirk was on his lips and he had a twinkle in his honey-colored eyes. "Ta-da! Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy, for I have your Get-Out-of-Here-Soon card," he announced.

"Gabriel!" Kira stepped out of Rowena's embrace and nearly threw herself into Gabriel's arms.

"Whoa, whoa, what happened, Kitten? Everything okay?" he asked. His hand rubbed up and down Kira's back, trying to comfort her.

Kira was still so upset that she couldn't tell Gabriel what had transpired between her and Prince Dean. Rowena explained about the competition and how Kira had won the equestrian challenge. "She seemed to have won the attention of Prince Dean, and the two of them had been spending a lot of time together. Until today, that is," Rowena explained.

"Why? What happened to make today any different?" Gabriel wondered.

"One word. Lucifer," Kira spat out. "He knows about my locket and what it can do. He tried to convince me to be his partner, travel the universe across all the dimensions. Prince Dean was on the other side of my door and heard our conversation," she finished.

"Why should that matter? And what did you tell Lucifer?" Rowena asked.

"I started flirting with him to make him think I was going along. He wasn't giving up on the whole, 'rule the multiverse together' idea. Prince Dean must have heard and got the wrong idea," Kira surmised.

"To answer your other question, I told Lucifer no. I also informed him it would be a cold day in the Hell he came from before I would ever give up this locket. This proves to me more than ever that we have to put our plan in motion to use a decoy locket," Kira declared.

"I'll get right to work on it, don't you worry, dearie," Rowena promised.

"Oh, hey! I did have a message for you and some information about how to get home. Your royal twin, the Samsquatch and your Dean-o figured it out. They used the lore books in the library and some of the ones in those boxes with your parents' stuff," Gabriel mentioned.

"That's great! What do we need? How do we do this? Come on, Gabe, give me details!" Kira was chomping at the bit because she wanted to be home. Anything that put her closer to that goal was something she was going to jump on and make happen.

Gabriel gave Rowena a list of the materials she would need and a sketch of the symbol to be drawn on the altar. Kira was relieved to discover that the petite, red-haired beauty had all of the ingredients. "This has to be done during the height of the lunar eclipse, so a little over two days from now," Gabriel explained. Then he went back to showing Rowena how to draw the symbol on the altar.

"Hey, Gabriel?" Kira said softly. He hummed in her direction to indicate that she had his attention. "You said you have a message for me from Dean," she asked timidly.

With a soft smile, Gabriel relented and confirmed that he indeed had a message for Kira from Dean. Once he put his hand on Kira's shoulder, the rest of the world seemed to melt away, leaving only a hazy-looking Dean in front of her. "Tell her that I love her and that Sam and I won't stop until she's back, safe in my arms," he faded away when Gabriel took his hand from Kira's shoulder.

Tears of joy streamed down Kira's cheeks. "He loves me?" she whispered.

"It would seem so," Gabriel muttered playfully.

"Is there any way that I can get him a message, like telepathically or something?" Kira asked. Gabriel nodded and whispered the words to a spell that, in conjunction with some special ingredients, would project her into Dean's thoughts.

"But, SweetCheeks, it won't last long, a few minutes at most. AND, when it gives out, you will feel nearly drained of all your energy. Like squeezing all the juice out of the lemon," he warned.

"I understand, Gabe, I just need to see him. To tell him that I love him as well, and that I'll do whatever it takes to get home," Kira vowed.

Part 9 here!

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Tags: @janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @babygurltt @flamencodiva @ejlovespie​ @deandreamernp

The Hunter’s Princess Series Tags: @supernatural-love14

[hellreads]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V & Reader Characters: Kim Taehyung | V, Reader Additional Tags: Smut, Fluff, Light Angst Series: Part 2 of Effervescence

Summary:

Just like the fizz of a cola on a hot summer’s day, your encounter with Taehyung is short but sparkly sweet.

OR

Getting married in three months, you and your girls attend Ultra Miami to cap your single life, a final hurrah of some sort. What you didn’t expect is meeting a beguiling boy with a boxy smile who gives you a festival you’ll forever reminisce.

“Ephemeral love are like flowers in valleys, but everlasting love are like mountains.” ~ Arthy V. 

reading this second part of effervescence made me feel so many things but mostly sadness, despite MC and Taehyung spending a few days together it felt like a lifetime, it was like a meeting of two souls lost in this realm eventually finding each other because they were once intertwined in another life though not in this one, not anymore, because this is proof that we can’t always have the people we want in our lives, even if the feeling is mutual, even if you spend days even years together if it isn’t meant to be, it will never happen.

[SPOILERS AHEAD vv minimal, hopefully]

immersing into this one put me on a rollercoaster ride, the type of ride you wish would never end no matter how it makes you dizzy and intoxicated with every spin it puts you through, starting off with her girlfriends (to have my favorite celebrities as my BFFs here was a treat, each personality reminded me of certain roles they portrayed in dramas which was cute) bidding her goodbye to tend to their duties as they leave her to enjoy the festival on her own before she closes the chapter of her life as a single woman, because in three months she’ll be marrying “the love of her life”.

as soon as Taehyung entered the picture Aphrodite by RINI immediately played on loop in my head (the playlist/music recommendation is lovely tho *chef’s kiss* especially Lover’s Fire by Franco it’s so divine and will give you all the feels) he was a man on a mission, whipped as soon as he saw her having fun with her friends he came up to her with all the courage he mustered, it was now or never, it was an opportunity for them to get to know each other and maybe earn her affection and in return he’ll worship her, a goddess that came to him when he least expects it. I enjoyed every moment they spent together and made me forget she was getting married soon, everything felt like magic making me overlook her current situation, in my eyes and my heart they were meant to meet each other and learn a thing or two about each other and about life.

not wanting to spoil much of the beautiful moments the pair shared let me just share my thoughts about the stuff you can pick up here, first of all, let yourself get lost in the moment, do not overthink things, I know this is hard for people like me in particular because I overthink things making me lose every single second where I could’ve been enjoying stuff I might regret later but it’s better than thinking for the rest of my life of the what-ifs? secondly, age is just a number, it doesn’t matter when you’re in love, let go and let love in, the Noona romance theme here is something I enjoyed, though I think I am very much like her who'd rather fall for or date an Oppa rather than a boy years younger than me because even a year younger scares me, I have this mentality that I should date men at least a year older than me (I think the biggest age gap was seven years tho) because I always associated maturity with age and I had to learn the hard way, also,  I wanna be babied so I date older men but have this need to be on top and take control, anyway age and maturity isn’t really a thing that’s my point, do not let people judge you for the age difference, you’re the one in love and committing not them, their opinions shouldn’t matter. thirdly, life can be very unfair, no, life is truly unfair letting you meet people you never thought you’d change your life drastically in so many ways, even if it means sinning for a bit... in this case do I condemn her for letting go a bit? no, even if it was technically cheating, what if Taehyung was the one for her at least in one of her lives and this was a reunion of sorts before finally moving on??? and lastly “There are some secrets that we think we're keeping, but those secrets are actually keeping us. - Frank Warren” ~ “But some secrets are too delicious not to share. - Suzanne Collins” I think these sayings about secrets explain themselves well and if you read the whole story you’ll understand them much better.

and ofc my favorite bits will be shared, I cannot stop my effervescent heart for Kim Taehyung, sigh what are the odds that she would meet a young and handsome man months before her big day, a young man full of life and energy that will change her life for a few days, I adored the way they got along so easily as if they’ve known each other for a long time, he felt like home, it’s impossible not to be whisked away, because despite MC’s honesty about her relationship and upcoming marriage it wasn’t enough for the kid to back down, he clearly wants her and that made my heart jump way too many times but also hurt because this is just temporary, he’s just temporary, he will only remain a memory of Miami, every scene felt like it was pulled from some cheesy/romantic/heartbreaking drama where the male and female lead will never be together because time said so, because circumstance said so, because fate said so, the attraction, the dancing, the drinking, the piggyback rides, the tickling, the elevator ride, the push and pull with reckless abandon giving in only if for one night, the way Taehyung made her feel affected me so much it’s more than lust, the way he wants to take her, steal her, persuade her into choosing him, I was glad it was more than one night but was it really something to be glad about when you know the end will eventually take away this borrowed precious moment? nevertheless, they made every moment count, it was just them nobody else (the smut is proof that they just let go, 0 fucks given, as much as I wanna detail everything I want you to read it without any ideas on the things he’s done to her, all I can say is he’s a very generous lover, a pleaser who pays attention to every detail *wink*wink*).

then comes the part where they had to go back to reality, back to his idol life, back to the arms of her lover, I cried during their last night where he gave up sleep just to commit to memory every single thing about her, making sure he’ll never forget (tho I wondered if he had the same images on his phone as well?) his last favor, his uncontrollable tears, his genuine question it hit me like a tonne of bricks it was a sad conversation filled with so much emotion if I could change things for them I would, but that was their goodbye, the souvenir she left reminded me so much of her girl Sunny, I also noticed the maturity of both characters and how they handle love and relationships, Taehyung is obviously youthful, full of life, would risk it all, likes people easily but I think him falling in love was genuine, does it feel rushed? maybe? but I do know he did love her even if he only met her, after all, a lot of young people fall hard and fast, MC is obviously wise beyond her years, more cautious, guarded, though it was never clear if she only said those words out of pity or not I do believe she loved or at least cared for him, he’s the boy that gave color to her life, a color she never thought would make life beautiful, a bright color she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life, she may not be wise for engaging in an ephemeral affair with the boy but she did know it was just a passing love affair and that she’ll choose Joongki over and over, the other half that makes her whole.

ahhh thank you for this wonderful piece Fringe, I know some of my thoughts/interpretations may be wild or too much but everything you write just puts me in a trance where so many thoughts surround me and I have to get all of this out, thank you for writing again, for sharing with us your works, ily! | 🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

[starcatcherscenarios]

Cold As Ice

Summary: In your school, you’re the most coldest, hateful person. Everyone disliked you and hates to be around your dark vibe...expect for this one person? Why is that? Why does this dork keep smiling at you and saying hi?

Part 1: 

“I said move, freak!” You shoved some lower classman who obviously wasn’t going to stand up for himself. Some bystanders went to go help him up, as you walked passed you could hear the mutters and cruel curses thrown around. You didn’t really care though, you never did.

As you settled into your empty seat, more like empty row – since no one wanted to sit with you or around you – you placed your feet across the other seat while having your back against the support of another empty desk. You eyed your classmates who were giggling amongst themselves and talking about some irrelevant topic. Feeling a little out of place, you pulled out your most prized possession from you desk, a book.

Not just any book. ‘The Women In White’ that is, a very lengthy mysterious novel written by, Wilkie Collins. This was a new novel you started to read after that other from last summer. You started to continue from where you left off, and even though people who usually read a lot are often proceeded as bookworms or nerds. Not you, everyone knew you liked to read and in fact they encourage that. Whenever you had a book in hand, it’s like that book or novel kept you from teasing and exploiting others. Everyone knew not to interrupt you’re reading, unless they wanted to get tossed in a trash can.

“Hi. Is that seat taken?”

Now normally, hearing some unknown almost smooth sounding voice would capture you’re attention so you could see who wanted to interrupt your reading. But you were too invested with reading that you didn’t bother to see who it was and kept your eyes on the words on page. So you replied with no emotion.

“Yes, it’s taken by my feet.”

“Well, can they please move? Class is almost starting and I want to sit here.”

“Sit somewhere else kid.” You flipped a page without giving a glance.

Students were looking over at what was happening. They whispered to themselves. What was this kids doing? There were other seats away from you that he could take..so why this seat?

“What cha’ reading there?”

“It’s called, none of your business. Now go away while I’m asking nicely.”

Answered with silence, you smirked to yourself. You could hear the footsteps almost walk away. Then suddenly, the desk that was supporting your back to lay down, was moving. You sat up straight and saw the random kid take the seat next to you. The others were having a blast to see someone stand up to you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking a seat for class.”

Before you can respond the teacher walked in and everyone settled down. The teacher began with a ‘good morning’ and went right into talking about notes and constructing a two page essay. Something you didn’t really care about. You tried hard not to steal glances at this kid but, you just had to look once more.

Okay, this ‘kid’ was obviously attractive. You can tell from his soft, fluffy looking hair that he was probably one of those boys who gets away with anything at school. You rolled your eyes and started doodling random drawings into your notebook.

“Wow...you’re really good.”

“Tha–.” Catching yourself from thanking this creep, you turned your head and finished him off. “What the...mind your own business freak.”

“I was just giving you a compliment. Your drawings are nice. I doodle too.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles softly at you, and flips to the back of his notebook to show you his..unique stick figure drawings. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say you actually chuckled a little seeing those third grade stick figure drawings.

“I’m Vernon.” He smiles once again.

“Why are you smiling at me?”

“I’m being friendly, to start that I have to smile.”

You scoff at his answer and return to doodling. Class goes by just like that, the bell rings and as everyone leaves first you were asked to stay behind by your teacher. 

“What did I do now, Mr.Kim?”

“I’m concerned about your grades, especially in my class. You missed three assignments.”

You shrugged at his answer. You never really cared much about your grades because, well you already knew you’re future. Pursuing street art...it’s not a college course sure but, you rather have a realistic future than one that puts false hope.

“I’m assigning you a tutor. For now, at least, he’s one of my top students.”

“I don’t need convincing, who’s my tutor?”

The teacher motioned his eyes to the person standing a few feet behind you. Now you knew why that weirdo was smiling at you, he knew this was going to happen.

“Hi, I’m Vernon and I’m your new tutor.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed. 

Since then, every Tuesday, Thursday and sometimes even Friday nights you both would meet up and study for two and a half hours. At first you didn’t really let it bother but, it started getting annoying when you had make up an excuse as to why you guys couldn’t study at your house. 

“I’m just saying, it be nice if we didn’t study at my place or at this cafe for once.” Vernon said while handing you your iced coffee order. 

“I’m just saying, it be nice if you got my coffee order right for once.” You take a sip of the cold drink and just then you wanted to take back your words. The grin on his face says it all. 

“One iced mocha latte with one shot of vanilla, with extra whip cream and chocolate drizzle. I never get anything wrong, y/n.” He winks. 

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his playful wink that made your heart skip a beat. Over the past two weeks, you two had gotten a bit closer than first time meeting each other but, you wouldn’t say you were bestfriends either. You actually liked having Vernon around. He was goofy yet chill to be with. He cracked a stupid joke every once in a while and even though it was a corny joke, you sill laughed at them. He also knew when to chill with the jokes and playfulness. 

He knows when to not bother you when reading. Sometimes he’ll even ask questions about the book, characters and the plot. He knew that when your deep in thought, you start to doodle flowers. He knew your favorite color is yellow, the complete opposite of how people view you. He also knew you hate the color orange because why name a color the same as a fruit? 

It was the little things he knew, stuff no one really knows about you. You hate that, that he’s the only person who knows you this well. But, you couldn’t really complain about it because it’s the same with you. You knew the small things about him too, stuff his friends didn’t even know about him. 

“So, why can’t we study at your place?” 

“We just can’t.”

“Come on, y/n. What is it?” 

“Vernon, just drop it.” Now you were getting annoyed. 

“I wanna know. I mean, there’s so much....I don’t know about you.”

“So? What’s it to you?” 

“...I’m saying...I want to know more about you.”

Hearing those words were very new to you. You knew that Vernon was a flirty type and you didn’t think anything of it. But, something in his voice and in his eyes, you were getting the feeling he was sincere. 

“Just ask the kids at our school then. I’m cold, heartless and I don’t give a shit of what anyone thinks of me.” You shurgged. 

Vernon shook his head. “No, not to me.”

“Well, I do care about how one person thinks of me...”

“Really? Who?” He asked trying to mask any hurt in his voice. 

You scoffed. Did he really have to ask? He was the only person by your side for the past two weeks. It’s crazy how well you know him and how well he knows you. You never liked people getting to know you or anything but, why was it so different with him? Why did you decide to let someone like Vernon to be in your life. 

“....If you really have to ask that, maybe you’re the one that needs a tutor.” You got up from your seat and started walking away. Maybe it was best if you spent some time away from him and him from you. It bruised your ego when you noticed he didn’t stop you from leaving. 

Why didn’t he stop you?

Aaaaand that’s it for part 1 lol. I realized I haven’t wrote much of seventeen so expect more from me soon. - Admin Kass 

[willieloomissavescollinsport]

Hawkes Harbor Review

"Surely, Louisa, you are not suggesting I take Jamie to Disneyland."

After a bestselling author's work is rejected, in a move of irony & karma, Dark Shadows finds ITSELF the subject of plagiarism. And now, brought to you by the letter 'H', here is my review of Hawkes Harbor by S.E. Hinton.

  As the legends go, the novel 'Hawkes Harbor' was originally intended to be an entry in publishers HarperCollins' Dark Shadows series. What changes were made to the storyline & characters afterwards are hard to pinpoint, but for all pretense and purposes, I chose to read this book while mentally changing each character or location to its DS counterpart:

Jamie Sommers..........Willie Loomis Kellen Quinn............Jason McGuire Grenville Hawkes...Barnabas Collins Dr. Louisa Kahne...Dr. Julia Hoffman Sophia Marie........................Josette Katie Roddendem........Maggie Evans Richard..................................Roger Lydia.................................Elizabeth Ricky.....................................David Barbara...............................Carolyn Hawkes Harbor.................Collinsport Hawkes Hall......................Old House Terrace View....................Wyndcliffe

  This comes in handy mostly because, with the exception of the 3 male leads, not many details are given regarding the other individuals mentioned in passing or who enter the storyline from time to time.

  The plot itself more or less follows Willie's storyline early on the show, with some added details & flashback accounts to his time spent with Kellen/Jason, along with a few other changes. For starters, Jamie gets more tail in a chapter of this book than Willie could ever hope to get throughout his entire run on the show. He gets it on with a rich bitch who scratches his back up; with Katie/Maggie, IMMEDIATELY after Grenville/Barnabas kidnaps her; with two girls on a cruise ship, at the same time. Hell, even the book's equivalent of Nurse Jackson climbs into bed with him to give him a pity handjob.

Whereas onscreen, I think Willie only got as far as copping a feel while holding Maggie hostage.

  And as I mentioned before, there are rather large sections of the book devoted to Jamie/Willie's backstory, which had previously been unexplored in the show's official canon. The story begins by showing Jamie/Willie, an out of wedlock child with a dying mother, being placed in an orphanage at the age of 7. There, his mother's heirloom crucifix necklace is taken away from him, hinting at his future fascination with shiny trinkets. In his adulthood, he enlists in the Navy & later befriends Kellen/Jason after defeating two Hawaiian men in a brawl.

  For the years to follow, Kellen & Jamie primarly travel together on the high seas, makin' cons, makin' scams & fightin' round the world. During the course of their adventures: Jamie is accused of rape by a rich heiress who seduced him; Kellen tells a story where the punchline involves a frozen sausage; and the two are robbed by pirates while a shark attacks Jamie as he dives for a ruby.

After their resources are dried out, the duo end up back in the states in the town of Hawkes Harbor, Delaware/Collinsport, Maine. Which, of course, is where these characters were introduced on Dark Shadows. But since this isn't suppose to be a Dark Shadows novel, some of the details have been mixed around. For starters, instead of Kellen being Lydia/Elizabeth's husband's two-timing friend, HE is her husband. They were married overseas while Lydia/Elizabeth was working as a nurse for the war. After the marriage went sour, Kellen took a buyout to produce a death certificate, vanish & allow her to go back to her family as a widow.

  Posing as the brother of Lydia's late husband, Kellen moves into the grand family mansion & collects clothes & money while Jamie stays at a boarding house nearby. There, he befriends one of the workers: Katie Roddendem/Maggie Evans, as well as her little sister Trisha(/Amy, perhaps?) & their mother, Mrs Pivens (who seems to be playing the role of Mrs Johnson, as evidenced by this line: "Well, my landlady, Mrs Pivens, she liked me. Don't ask me why-'cept she had a son around my age, he turned out bad. I guess she wanted to believe guys like us were good, deep down somewhere.") Ricky Hawkins/David also forms a bond with Jamie & later tells him of buried pirate treasures located in the caves of a nearby island, said to be haunted.

  With just that information to go on, Jamie foolishly goes a treasure huntin' & unchains a coffin revealing vampire Grenville Hawkes/Barnabas Collins. Grenville, who's sounds more like a chain of motels than a scary vampire, puts Jamie under his power & to work on restoring Hawkes Hall/Old House. Now, it is worth mentioning that some changes were made to Grenville, from the Barnabas we all know & love/hate. Most notably, Jamie describes him as being around the age of 50, with no trying to pretend that the middle aged vampire was 25 when confined in a coffin. In addition, Grenville has had *gasp* MULTIPLE wives! One of which produced an offspring named William, which is perhaps a nod to the our protagonist's original name. Guess William also dodged a bullet in that he wasn't named Bramwell.

  Some time after Gren's first wife passes on, he marries a young woman by the name of Sophia Marie/Josette. Soon afterwards, Grenville finds himself turned into one of the living dead. Sophia/Josette is all too anxious to join him in being eternally damned, but unfortunately for her, Bizarro-Barnabas will have none of that & decides chokes a bitch instead. Fast forward a few centuries and Grenville spots Katie/Maggie & makes up his mind that he wants Sophia/Josette to be a bloodsucking creature of the night after all! But here's where it gets WEIRD.

  Instead of slowly brainwashing Katie into believing she IS Sophia, he plans to have Sophia's spirit, who just happens to be hanging around Hawkes Hall for no good reason, inhabit her body. I guess just like in 'Ghost', when Patrick Swayze jumps into Whoopi Goldberg or something. So, Gren attacks Katie & leaves her alone in the Hawkes Hall long enough for Jamie to find her, allowing THIS exchange to take place:

"Jamie," she said suddenly. "Make love to me." "W-w-what?" he stammered, drawing back from her, searching her eyes. "Make love to me. Now."

  Yep, you've only got mere moments to escape, but why not do the nasty instead? I mean, it's not like an angry jealous killer vampire could walk in at any second or anything! Actually you know what? If I didn't believe it was impossible, I think Willie Loomis himself wrote this book. That's right, after hearing about his parallel time self being a famous writer, he thought to himself 'Well, why can't I do that?' And then he proceeded to write a thinly disguised biography of his life, giving everyone a different name & changing the events to the way he thought they SHOULD have happened!

Oh & here's another kicker, Katie/Maggie claims to be a virgin. Ha! Yeah, I know Joe is always shown sleeping on the couch in the show, but I've figured that was because Sam had a short fuse & a shotgun handy amidst his paintbrushes, just in case someone dared to lay a finger on his daughter. Trust me, if Maggie's a virgin, then Carolyn's in the freakin' convent. So Katie is saying that she wants her first roll in the hay to be with pretty boy Jamie instead of Count Hawkins. Actually I wonder if Grenville is even capable of performing such an act. Usually vampires in popular culture are as dead below the waist as the rest of their bodies, & Barnabas never seemed to be any exception. Sure he was interested in anything under 30 with a vagina who walked within his line of vision. But as a vampire, he never showed an interest in sinking anything except his fangs into a young lady.

  But, getting back to our story. Jamie & Katie are engaging in some fluffy coitus. They kiss, they cry, they climax together. Cherubs come down from the heavens & sing. Then Grenny shows up & doesn't seem to show any reaction to the fact that some hard core nookie just took place in that very room. But no matter to that, because Grenville has to deliver some corny dialogue to his sweetie:

  "Come, my heart, " the low voice beseeched the air. "Come and join me."

  "All right!" (All right! Let's get this party started!) Jamie shouted as he struggled back up. "You go ahead and do this, kill Katie, I can't stop you. I seen people kill before-for money, God, or country, and you with your 'necessity for existence.' I even did it myself once. But don't you call it love! This isn't love!"

  After that speech, I half expected Jamie to break out into song, but instead Sophia Marie talks through Katie, forming a ghostly glow over her body. The lovers embrace, kiss, cry, the cherubs come back for an encore & Sophia Marie/Josette basically tells Grenville that although she loves him, they can't really be together like this. A ghost & a vampire together? Might make for a decent mid season replacement sitcom, but doesn't lend itself to being very practical for real life.

  So with Katie now useless, Grenville tells Jamie to get rid of her. Maybe he just meant to dump her in the trashcan out back for pickup, but Jamie takes Katie & runs for the hills. And who should see them on their way, but a Sheriff Patterson/Joe Haskell hybrid known as Mitch Morgan. To make matters worse, Katie is Mitch's main squeeze & she's been missing for awhile. Mighty Mitch takes aim & Jamie gets 3 bullets in his back, as opposed to Super-Willie who recieved FIVE & recovered in record time!

  From there, Jamie is taken to a criminal insane ward & later transferred to Terrace View/Wyndcliffe under the request of Grenville & Dr. Louisa Kahne/Dr. Julia Hoffman. This is where the majority of the story takes place in the forms of flashbacks & remembrances while a physician named Dr. McDevitt conducts therapy sessions with Jamie. Which is an affective tool for storytelling, but I wouldn't really buy as being able to take place. Think about it. Would Julia really allow anyone to ask Willie questions, taking the risk that he might reveal something? Frankly, I've always imagined Willie as being kept heavily medicated & isolated in his room while at Wyndcliffe.

Oh, & while it's not even brought up until much later in the novel, you should know that, much like on the show, Kellen/Jason became worm food some time before Jamie got shot. Worse yet, instead of Grenville merely using Barnabas's trusted M.O. of strangling someone to death, here Grenville drinks all the blood from Kellen's body. And then orders Jamie to stake his friend to prevent him from rising as a vampire. Adding yet another thing to give Jamie nightmares at night.

  After several months of being at Terrace View/Wyndcliffe, in following the storyline of Dark Shadows, Jamie/Willie is released into the care of Grenville & Dr. Louisa Kahne/Dr. Julia Hoffman, against the wishes of Dr. McDevitt. Grenville is magically now 99.9% vampire free but it's still alluded to that he needs shovels for misdeeds, which are never fully explained in detail. Meanwhile, Jamie has become the Boo Radley of Hawkes Harbor, with small children throwing rocks at him. And on top of that, from his ordeal & time spent in the institution, he's become greatly addicted to prescription drugs.

  Following Jamie accidentally ODing on his pills, Louisa/Julia finally gets it through her thick wig that Jamie just may have problems & observes he's likely suffering from Stockholm syndrome. Although since this takes place in 1968 & that term will not be conceived until 1973, I guess Louisa took some trips to the future that we didn't know about. She suggests that Grenville should take him someplace to relax while he is gradually reduced from his meds, to which he reacts with this line:

  "Surely, Louisa, you are not suggesting I take Jamie to Disneyland."

  Oh man, I'd pay good money to see Barnabas & Willie in Disneyland! Can you imagine it? Within the first 24 hours, Willie will have beaten up Goofy & been banned for life from Mr. Toad's Wild Ride while Barnabas has already made plans to kidnap Snow White & turn her into his new Josette!

But unfortunately for us, Louisa/Julia has other plans in mind.

  "Richard was saying..." she began. His look warned her he had little interest in what his cousin had to say, but she went on. "The Collins shipping industry needed to look into passenger cruises. They are the wave of the future-You know Roger and his puns."

(That above line is NOT a typo, by the way. For two sentences they let the names 'Collins' & 'Roger' slip through without changing them!)

  "No," Grenville said. "No."   "Of course he offered to go. But you could investigate for yourself. And it's not unusual for a man of your position and background to travel with a valet."

  So, Grenville & Jamie are off to the high seas in a high class cruise ship. Jamie manages to come down off his drug dependency while he spends his vacation having nonstop threesome with 2 babes who hang on him like bark on a tree. Grenville also finds time to cheat on Louisa/Julia score with an older lady by the name of Leslie while on board. This leads to another quotable line:

  "So Grenville," Jamie said conversationally, "yours give good head?"

Greetings from Commodore Cruise Line! Wish you were here. Love, Jamie.

  Yep, Jamie/Willie & Grenville/Barnabas discussing oral sex. An area most fan fiction writers wouldn't even dare venture towards. But all good things must come to an end, including the boy's pleasure cruise & they return to Hawkes Harbor with Jamie greatly improved & more confident in himself. In time, he becomes a productive member of society, working odd jobs & donating his services to schools & charities.

  The book then flashes forward 10 years where Jamie has become Harvey Lacey & lives a content comfortable life with his former captor. That Christmas, Grenville 'Last of the Big Time Spenders' Hawkins gives him a quilt. Jamie gets to enjoy it for exactly one night before a deer crashes into the car while he's driving Grenville home. He dies moments later & meets Kellen/Jason in heaven. Kellen claims that Jamie's act of lighting a candle & saying a prayer, allowed him into a much less fiery accommodation in the afterlife, but personally I think he just had some dirt on God & blackmailed his way through the pearly gates. The two sail off into the sunset of the great beyond. The End.

  So that's the book. It has its pros & its cons, but it actually might have been much better if released as originally written, with the characters' names, places & events as we know them still intact. If you are familiar with Dark Shadows, it's impossible not to associate the book with it & become annoyed with some of the changes. While if you're NOT acquainted with the show, you're very likely to read the novel not being completely clear of the characters' personalities or motivations. It's really a no win situation.

  In general, I like the way Jamie is written. But I think he's made out to be too much of a Gary Stu in some parts of the book. For one thing, Jamie is written as being primarily well liked by anyone he comes across, whereas this is certainly not the case for Willie. Early on, he insults & gets into fights with nearly anyone he meets. Jamie acts as an older brother towards Ricky & Trisha while Willie is mostly seen just throwing David's ass out of the Old House. The character of Katie is deeply fond of Jamie, going as far to name one of her sons after him. Regarding Maggie & Willie, early on she deeply despises him as he continually comes on to her, even when she makes it perfectly clear that she is not interested. After he is shot & she comes to believe in his innocence, her feeling towards him becomes one of friendship. But it's still more of a commiserative manner rather than romantic as Willie would like to believe. Often her interactions with him come off as if she's dealing with a child or slow minded adult.

  And in turn, I think many of the secondary characters seem to have been made less likable, perhaps to make Jamie even more of the hero. The Hawkeses are described in brief as simply a family of rich snobs. Richard/Roger has to be taken to detox clinics, Barbara/Carolyn gets involved in one scandle after another. Granted the Collins themselves were far from perfect, but never near the level of arrogant highbrows as they are presented here as the Hawkeses.

  Dr. Louisa Kahne is also written as a very flawed individual. In addition to being extremely controlling towards Jamie, it is mentioned by Dr. McDevitt that Louisa barely has any medical training or knowedge & yet goes around acting as a doctor. And while I'm not gonna defend Julia's treatment of Willie which ranges from small acts of kindness to being a complete bitch, I think it's unfair to quickly write her up as an unqualified quack. Her Doctor Feelgood reputation of passing out sedatives like Halloween candy precedes her, but Julia has been shown treating vampirism & creating an artifical person, & seems able to handle whatever injury or emergency is thrown at her on a daily basis.

But while we're on the subject of the Queen of Barbiturates, I do want to discuss a subject which I thought the book did well in covering. Which is in dealing with Jamie's health & mental state. On Dark Shadows, after Willie is shot enough times to kill a person two times over & regains consciousness from his coma, he is shown as being in a great amount of pain. And furthermore, he appears to have undergone a complete mental breakdown. Showing signs of amnesia (whether genuine or as a protective defense), he seems to have regressed to his state after being attacked by Barnabas, begging for it not to be dark & for no one to hurt him.

  When we next see Willie a few months later at Wyncliffe, he claims to be physically strong as ever, but is still showing occasional signs of delusions, bad decisions, as well as sparks of his old mean demeanor that was repressed after being bitten. Miraculously, following his release, his mental state actually seems to improve over time, even while he is seen getting thrown into one dangerous situation after another. This I've always found hard to believe, especially considering Willie's parental caregivers rarely give him a thought of concern at all.

Willie: (After being forced to dig up a corpse & bring it back to the Old House) "You know, every time I touched it I felt sick. When I came back here I couldn't even go to sleep. I put it down here & I went to my room & I just lay there, Barnabas!" Barnabas: "Well, next time Julia will give you a sedative."

  Yeah, I don't find it hard to picture Willie becoming dependent on painkillers & tranquilizers with his environment or the health problems that would come from 5 bullets in the back. But by this point, Willie mainly served as a background character, carrying out duties for Barnabas & Julia, with limited insight into his own personal life, or lack thereof. After all, what reason did the writers have to give his character a story arc of his own, when the viewers seemed content with watching Barnabas repeatedly pine on a lost love or mope over his vampire state?

  But that's where its the viewer's job to watch, observe, read between the lines & ponder the untapped stories, feelings & adventures for characters who remain a mystery. And for that, despite some of the book's shortcomings, S.E. Hinton has done a respectable job in trying to make the reader better understand the character of Willie Loomis. Or Jamie Sommers, as she chooses to call him. Or if nothing else, I'm at least thankful that the author wanted to give Willie his moment in the spotlight.

[distant-rose]

Seal of Fate Epilogue (8/8)

Notes: Did I actually finish a story? Yes, internet, I did. And if you’re reading Once and Future and Playing Off Foul, I promise I will get back to it soon before I post my law school au. Anyway, this has been a wild ride and I have honestly loved all the responses I’ve gotten on this, particularly all of the panic and questioning of whether this last bit would be as angsty as the last bits. I’m going to say....you can be relax. This isn’t angsty at all. In fact, I think you’ll quite like it. Anyway, a special thank you to @katie-dub and @shireness-says for being so supportive. A thanks to @cssns and @drowned-dreamer whose gorgeous art will feature at the bottom of this epilogue. And as always, a huge thank you to @aerica13, my amazing beta. I couldn’t have done it without you babe! Word Count: 4,100+ AO3: [LINK] Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+

The Vineyard Sound was calm, the surface of the water almost as smooth as glass as Emma Swan sat down on the front porch of the yellow beach house. There wasn’t a single soul on the beach across the road, but it was only May and she could only imagine how crowded it got once the vacationers arrived. She knew from what Granny Lucas had told her that the beach was a private one and meant only for the residents of the neighborhood but Emma assumed the majority of the houses here were rental properties and soon the street would be crowded with strangers.

Emma hadn’t expected to remain on the Vineyard past October but something had felt wrong about returning to Maine, especially with Killian in tow. Nothing was waiting for her there while Memensha was full of ghosts, full of history that she had yet to uncover. So, she had given up her shitty loft apartment and decided to stay. She had appealed to the Lucases to remain in the house, offering to pay extra in rent. Ruby and Granny were more than willing to let them stay in the house but had refused their money, claiming that the property should have been hers in the first place because it had been Ruth Nolan’s before it had fallen into their possession. Granny had even forced Ruby to return the rental money, something that Emma was certain had more to do with her guilt than the debatable ownership of the beach house. Feeling awkward about the situation, she had insisted on paying utilities which they relented on.

Emma had taken to working shifts at the diner over the winter on top of working as a freelancer investigator alongside Killian. The majority of their work was on the mainland but Emma sensed that he enjoyed their near daily-ride over to Hyannis, his eyes glued to the ocean. He had yet to go near the water since he had lost his hand. More than once she had caught him looking out over the Atlantic with a mixture of longing and anxiety.

Two fur pelts were waiting in the top dresser, dark and sleek next to white and fluffy; one much larger than the other. They never talked about it but Emma knew it was only a matter of time.

Killian placed a whiskered kiss on her cheek as he placed her hot chocolate down on the table and sat down in the chair beside her, knee bumping into hers. Emma gave him a soft smile, mug in one hand and placing the other on top of his truncated wrist. She had taken to touching his injury in hopes of helping him become more accepting of it. In the first few weeks since the incident, he had taken to hiding it from view. If he had been a normal person with an actual driver’s license and health insurance, Emma was certain he would have been in therapy for it. Since none of those things were available, it was up to her to help him heal from his injuries and trauma. All the websites had recommended she treat his injury as it were normal and that she didn’t see him as less for it. It had been a long and rough road over the winter, yet they were both getting there slowly but surely. Rather than shake her off, as he had done in previous months, today Killian just stiffened briefly at the contact. He relaxed when he turned his attention on the water. Emma took this as a small victory.

“It’s calm out there today,” he said quietly as he drank from his own mug.

“I was just thinking that. And how it won’t be long before it’s swarmed with people.”

“Aye,” he placed his mug down, jaw tightening. “Which is why I think now is the time.”

“Time?” She looked at him uncertainty.

“Time,” he repeated. “Time for us to take a swim.”

“Now? In May? Are you serious? The water is probably freezing!”

“Perhaps to a human, but not to us,” he said quietly. “The ocean is a part of us, love. It’s our home.”

Emma hesitated, placing her hot chocolate on the table and straightening her shoulders. This is a conversation she had played over and over in her head during the past months. They should have talked about this sooner but she had been so happy to have him in her life and so desperate to keep him after everything that had happened, she had allowed them to play house while keeping her fears trapped in the back of her mind.

“It is your home,” she said, looking him in the eye. “But I’m not sure it’s mine.”

“What do you mean, love?” He was looking at her with such concern that it almost hurt.

“I was born a selkie but I’ve lived the last thirty years of my life as a human being. The only time I’ve really spent around the ocean has been when I came here. I don’t even know how to swim, Killian, that wasn’t necessarily a priority for kids in foster care, you know?” She took in a deep breath. “And my pelt...you’ve seen it...it belongs to a baby…what if my connection to it is broken? What if I can’t connect like you can?” Her voice wavered slightly on the last question.

Killian met her gaze steadily, taking her hand off her mug and entwining it with his hand, interlocking their fingers and giving them a small squeeze.

“Been thinking about this for awhile now, have you?”

She bit her lip, not wanting to tell him that she had been thinking about it since October. When she didn’t answer his question, he sighed and spoke again.

“Emma, what happened to you...was unprecedented to say the least. I understand why Granny did what she did even though I don’t and could never agree with it...I don’t know what will happen if you tried to slip into your sealskin but what I do know is that no matter what happens, I’m not leaving.”

“I can’t keep you from the ocean, Killian,” she whispered.

“I can’t promise that the tide won’t call to me - I will need to leave at times, but there is something that I can promise and that promise is that I will always, always come back to you. You are as much part of me as the ocean is, love, and I don’t think I could bear being separated from you any more than I could being separated from it.”

He squeezed her hand again before bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Well okay then, you’re certainly no Mr. Darcy,” she responded with an uneasy laugh. She expected him to give her his patented curious look but much to her surprise, he gave her a small smirk and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, love, he was quite a wretched orator. I would have been insulted by that proposal as well and would have hit him for good measure. Much better writer.”

Emma blinked, not expecting this response. “You know who Mr. Darcy is?”

He gave her a slightly condescending look, as if she had dribbled on her shirt.

“I’ve been on dry land for nearly eight months now, love. I know how to read and have plenty of spare time to catch up on all the delightful references you seem to make…” he paused for a moment, smirk growing on his lips. “So, if I’m not Darcy, then who am I?”

“Mr. Collins,” she drawled.

“Hey!” He pushed her shoulder lightly. “That’s not nice! I’m Mr. Bingley at worst.”

“So you would rather to be the guy who can’t make his own decisions and is easily persuaded by his sisters and best friend?”

He frowned at that. “Perhaps not. I’m more of a Mr. Knightley kind of man anyway.”

Emma’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as she tried to recall a Mr. Knightley character in Pride and Prejudice. When she came up short, she frowned at him.

“There isn’t a Mr. Knightley in Pride and Prejudice.”

“No, there isn’t. I’m afraid he’s in character in another one of Jane Austen’s works. The novel he’s in is probably my favorite of her books. I think we both have a lot in common, particularly in regard to women.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he happens to be in love with the titular character, a woman who is headstrong and a complete force of nature. Her name fits her perfectly.”

“Oh, what’s her name?”

He gave her a fond smile. “Emma.”

She almost hated how much her heart leapt in her chest when he said that. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he had expressed his feelings to her, every time felt new and sent a jolt through her system. It didn’t seem like a reaction that was going away anytime soon.

She leaned forward, giving him a brief kiss before pulling away and bumping his nose with hers.

“You’re a sap.”

“Perhaps, but I’m your sap,” he replied, squeezing her hand again. “And I think we’ve drifted dreadfully off course with our conversation in regards to swimming.”

She shook her head.

“It’s way too cold. It’s practically still ice. We had frost on the ground last week for Christ’s sake.”

“And as I said before, it’s too cold for a human but not for us.”

“And as I said before, we don’t know if I’m selkie enough for it.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

She studied him for a moment, taking in the earnest expression on his face before sighing and getting up from her chair. She stretched out her limbs, raising her arms and rolling her shoulders.

“Alright, fine, but if I freeze to death, I’m going to kill you.”

“Don’t worry, love, if you get too cold, I know more than a few ways to warm you up,” he replied with a leer, eyebrows dancing.

Emma gave him a whack on the shoulder in response, but the reproach in her actions was negated slightly by the small smile that was tugging at her lips.

It was while she was rummaging through the dresser that Emma realized that not once in her life had she owned a bathing suit. The revelation heightened her anxiety, another reminder that Emma had been completely separated from the ocean, from Killian’s world. She pulled on a sports bra and a pair of running shorts, hoping that they would suffice.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the top drawer, revealing the pelts that had been left untouched since October. She ran her fingers through the fluffy white fur, relishing in the calm feeling it always seem to provide her whenever she felt stressed. She pulled it out, staring at it with mixture of fondness and dread. It would barely suffice as a shawl, let alone cover her entire body. She didn’t have a lot of optimism in that department. She sighed as she placed it in the beach bag she had pulled out of the closet. At least she would finally have answers.

She was worried about touching Killian’s pelt, remembering how he had reacted the last time he had caught her with it. Though it had been eight months since that incident, the look on his face when she had hesitated in returning it was still fresh in her mind.

“You gonna pack it up or what?” He called over her shoulder, causing her to jump.

She turned, fixing him with a glare.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Apologies, love, but you seemed to be taking a while to get ready,” he responded with a frown.

His eyes darted between the pelt in the drawer and the fear on her face. Emma watched as understanding seemed to dawn on him. He stepped forth, placing his hand and wrist on her shoulders, smoothing them down her arms.

“You can touch it,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t know if I was allowed,” she responded. “I’m still kinda new at this.”

“You’re more than allowed...it’s as much yours as it is mine.”

“I don’t want your pelt, Killian. It’s yours. I don’t know how to make it more clear that I don’t want to trap you.”

“And I don’t know how times I have to tell you that I love you and I’m not leaving you. You’re not trapping me. It’s just a gesture of trust. I trust you.”

“I don’t need it, okay?”

“Okay,”  he sighed, kissing her forehead. “Now, grab the damn pelt and let’s hit the water.”

They walked across the street, fingers interlocked and hands swinging between them. Emma paused as they got nearer to the shoreline, her eyes darting up the coast and towards the Gold house which still stood imperiously on the hill overlooking the street. There was no one there but she couldn’t help but shiver every time she saw it, thinking of the horror show basement and the jar of teeth on the mantle. The house technically now belonged to Gold’s estranged son but no one had heard anything from him since he had left the Vineyard and the radio silence had continued even after his father’s death.

She still had nightmares about the incident. Her dreams were plagued with shrill laughter and red ocean water. Even the discovery of Gold’s mangled body fifteen minutes away on South Beach near Katama had done little to assuage her fears. Only Killian’s presence beside her at night seemed to help - though still, every once in a while, she woke up screaming and they would both sit outside with hot chocolate and stare at the water.

Killian seemed to follow her line of thought, loosening her hold on his hand so that he could wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her close. He placed a kiss on her temple.

“Hey, he’s gone. He can’t hurt us, you know that.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “I just want to burn the place to the ground though. I can’t look at it...without thinking of my parents...of Milah...of all the people he’s murdered and the selkies he’s skinned...He deserved a lot worse than he got.”

Killian flinched slightly at her words. He was still coming to grips with everything Gold had done in the past, as she was herself. They had spent more hours than they could count talking about the gravity of what he had done to them, to the people they loved. There was still a lot of anger and pain buried in them that they needed to work out but Emma hoped it would lessen with time.

“I don’t know, Swan, getting mauled to death by a shark is a selkie’s worst fear. I can’t think of a more fitting death aside from it being at one of our hands - well, in my case, hand.”

She was silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully.

“I’m glad.”

“About what?”

“I’m glad that it wasn’t us. I’m glad that we didn’t kill him because then his blood would be on our hands and we would have stooped to his level.”

“I think I’m going to disagree with you on that, love, and table it there. It’s not worth the argument. That man isn’t worth any more of our time than he’s already taken. Now, I’m going to teach you to swim.”

Emma reached to grab the pelts from her bag but Killian stopped her, placing his hand gently on her arm.

“I was thinking I would teach you the human way first. There’s no need to rush into this head on. Shifting form can be uncomfortable and I want you more comfortable in the water before we add to that…”

She nodded, dropping the beach bag on the sand and shifting around the beach towels to cover up the pelts. There wasn’t anyone on the beach but Emma felt more comfortable covering them, hidden from view should anyone walk by.

It was Killian who hesitated this time, just short of where the waves were gently lapping at the shore. His shoulders were tense and squared up, as if he was facing the enemy rather than the place he called home.  

“You okay?” she placed a hand between his shoulder blades.

“I…” he paused, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “I haven’t been in the water since it happened.”

Her heart clenched in sympathy and it was then that she realized that she wasn’t the only one anxious about this. Killian had frequently mentioned that getting caught by a shark was a nightmare scenario for a selkie and it was a nightmare he had barely survived. Emma had always figured that his reluctance in the past months to return to the ocean had been about his missing limb but now she realized it was only a part of it.

“Hey,” she murmured, smoothing her hand down his back. “I got you and you got me. We’re going to be okay.”

He laughed at this but Emma could hear some strain in it.

“Aye, I’ve seen your shark fighting skills up close and personal, Swan. If anyone’s going to save me from the finned devils, it’s you.”

“Exactly,” she grinned. “So what are you waiting for?”

The water was cold but not nearly as bad as she had been expecting and the longer she waded in the water, the more she got used to it. Killian gave her a smug grin as she followed him farther into the waves.

“Not too cold for you?”

“Yeah. It’s not too bad. What is it, like, 70 degrees?”

“I don’t know how your garbage American temperature systems works but it’s like 13 or 14 degrees celsius.”

Emma did the math quickly in her head, eyes widening in realization. She looked down at the water then back at his face in astonishment.

“Jesus Christ, so this is like 45-50 degree water we’re in! How are we not freezing?”

He laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you that selkies don’t work the same way humans do? Our bodies are designed for this. I’ve happily stayed in these waters during the winter when it’s much colder than this.”

“I guess I just didn’t expect it would be the same for me…”

“Hey,” he said softly. “What happened to you doesn’t make you any less, okay? You might have been out of the water for a long time but you were born one of us. You were always one of us...Now, want to see something else we can do that they can’t?”

“Ummm...sure?”

He laughed, head disappearing under the waves. She stared in confusion, not comprehending what he was doing. A few moments passed and nothing happened. His head broke the surface of the water and he gave her a frown.

“You were supposed to follow me…”

“Killian, I’m barely swimming as is, I don’t need to go under.”

“You’re fine and yes, you do.”

“Why?”

He gave an annoyed look. “Can you just trust me please?”

“Fine, fine,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

She closed her eyes, dunking her head under the waves. With her head submerged, it felt slightly warmer and she waited for something to happen. When something touched her face, she opened her eyes without meaning to.

Clear vision.

Emma had never stepped foot in a pond, lake, pool or any body of water to speak of but she was very much familiar with the fact that normal people generally couldn’t see that well in water and that old filmmakers had used wax paper to show that effect. She found no difference in vision between land and sea.

Killian smiled at her, pulling his hand away from her cheek and holding up three fingers. Slightly confused, she copied him. His smile widened as he brought up his pinkie and spread his middle and ring finger to make a Vulcan salute. Again, she followed suit. He did a few series of hand motions, each more complex than the last, changing it up every time she finally did each one. When she copied the last one, which was a simple cross of fingers, he moved forth to kiss her.

It wasn’t nearly as romantic as the movies made it seem, nose banging into hers, lips sliding awkwardly and teeth clacking when he pushed forth with a little too much effort. It was how Emma imagined kissing in space would be like - a cute idea but hard to maneuver in reality. It got better when he anchored his hand in her hair. It didn’t last long however, as Emma’s lungs practically screamed for air. She couldn’t help but laugh as she broke the surface.

“That...that was something!” She chuckled.

Killian tugged her closer, bringing her in for another kiss that was more successful than the last one and had more heat to it. She was constantly falling in love with the soft sound he made when she would nip at his bottom lip.

“You could see,” he murmured, smiling at her and resting his forehead against hers.

“I could,” she grinned.

“That’s good sign. Are you ready to try the pelt?”

“Honestly no but it’s better to do this now rather than speculate on it any further.”

It wasn’t until they reached that shore that Emma felt her nerves kick into overdrive, heart hammering in her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Killian grabbed both of their pelts and handed hers over with a soft smile.

“Whatever happens, we are going to be okay,” he reminded her gently.

They dived back into the surf, swimming further out than where they had been last time. Killian spread his pelt in front until the head was facing in his direction. Emma followed suit, her pelt looking slightly larger in the water than it did on land.

“You’re going to want to press your foot in,” he said quietly, demonstrating.

Dubiously, Emma copied the motion, slipping her foot into her sealskin. She had expected resistance, as it was only the fraction of her size but amazingly enough it stretched to envelope her entire leg. She looked back at Killian in amazement. He merely chuckled in response but pushing his other leg in. She followed his demonstration, lifting the stretching skin over her  shoulders and finally her head.

A strange sensation to hold of her, bones shifting and clicking. It wasn’t painful so much as uncomfortable, shifting without her conscious thought. Her skin stung and she let out a small whimper, feeling like a thousand little needles were biting into her skin and sewing the pelt to her. Something wrapped itself around her, making comforting noises. She opened her eyes. A large seal was pressing its face against her, rubbing affectionately. She moved what she thought was her hand, only to realise her arm motion was limited. It took her a few seconds to realise she no longer had an arm but a flipper.

A flipper.

She was a seal.

Killian continued to circle her, nuzzling his head against her body and making small noises which she instinctively knew meant love and affection. As much as she returned his feelings, his constant circling was getting in the way of her learning to use her new limbs properly and she made an impatient nip at him. He seemed to get the message but only just barely, practically vibrating with excitement.

Moving in the water somehow was freer than walking on land and she revelled in maneuvering so effortless, letting out small trills of happiness. Never before in her life had she felt so free. Killian followed her, copying her movements and moving soft noises that were affectionate but different than his original message. It took Emma a few moments to figure out what he was communicating to her.

Welcome home.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

A First Date - Dunkirk Characters Preference

Requested by anon: Hey Ash, I was wondering... would it be okay to request a preference, but instead of the cast, using the characters of Dunkirk? I was thinking about them trying to ask on a first date, like who panics, who get sweaty...? If you can, you can set it in modern days, whatever is easier/ more comfortable for you, really!!

AN: I wrote about the asking and also the first date he would take you on because I’m soft

Masterlist

Alex

Alex knew you well. You’d practically grown up together, holding hands, open discussions with nothing to hide, and such support. Many times he’d often thought that you were so close it was like being in an ideal relationship – just without the romantic interest. That jinxed it because he found out that he was very much smitten with you.

By God, his palms were sweating up a storm when he decided he should tell you his feelings. The poor boy didn’t want to ruin what he had with you and he started to cry out of frustration. After some cuddles coaxing him out of his shell in the solitude of your room, Alex stumbled out with it, hiccups breaking up his speech pattern. You were also a little overwhelmed by his revelation but you simply cuddled him closer until his crying ceased. Then you agreed to go on a date with him and he started crying again as he tackled you with a hug.

When the date began at the museum (where Alex planned to go with you to see the new exhibit) he was very stiff and nervous and trying way too hard to be a sweeping gentleman on this date. It was you who put him on edge and so it had to be you who put him at ease. You acted like you normally would with him, joking about the amount of dicks on show in the art and the nonsense of cubism. Alex relaxed and you both fell into the normal routine of your friendship by the time you were in the new exhibit. He almost forgot it was a date until you kissed his cheek to which he froze and flushed at your pleasure.

Collins

He’d seen you before during his walks, looking in the far distance where coloured kites soared above the hill. They would swing about in the breeze and flourish in a rainbow of fabrics. You looked rather wistful as you watched. Collins strode home with new impulsive purpose.

Rifling through the trunk on top of his wardrobe, he found his old box kite from when he was a child, fabric fragile. Blowing the dust off it, Collins then collected his ration card and counted his points. Since it was autumn, therefore only a few months before he would receive more points, he expected that he would be fine as long as he didn’t tear any of his clothes. With those points, he purchased some polyester and spent the entire night mending his kite for he knew from the weather report that tomorrow would be the perfect day to fly it.

The next afternoon, a little tired but ready, Collins went to the park with box kite in hand. When he saw you, he tapped you on the shoulder and introduced himself. Almost instantly you pointed out the kite and that you’d seen him before – you’d spoken before at the newsagents. Nervous, he babbled away. Only when he took a breath did you respond with equal excitement to fly his kite. You both dashed to the hill and prepared to fly. Yelling “ready?”, Collins threw his kite into the air and watched its lustrous new blue catch in the wind.

He was back at your side when you gestured to your shaking hands wrestling with the string and asked him to “show you the ropes.” With that pun, Collins was head over heels for you. He stood at your side initially but then moved behind you. His hands cupped yours and guided the kite. It swooped about and you both laughed into the wind as it whipped your hair.

Farrier

You met in a dance hall where you tagged along with some friends to dance in a group as singles. But then you began to split off to dance with others and you were the first to be asked. He introduced himself as Farrier, charm masking his nerves because he asked you on a whim, spontaneity fuelled by the drinks. He was surprisingly good at dancing in spite of his alcohol consumption and proved to be a good laugh on the floor.

When he offered to walk you home at the realisation it was almost closing time, Farrier suddenly transformed into a little boy shyly offering a homemade Valentine. You thought that even more charming, watching the drink wear off and awkwardness kick in – a real character. His left thumb and forefinger pinched the right palm between them as, at your door, he asked slowly to see you, to take you on a proper date. You agreed, freeing his hand from its pinch to squeeze it in comfort before saying goodnight.

For a first date, you weren’t expecting him to take you to a show. To start with, you thought that he was just flashing the cash. But this was not the case. You sat back and enjoyed the performance about various comedic forms. As you walked out of the theatre and headed into the bar upstairs, Farrier began to discuss the show, an animated conversation which he often asked for and listened to your opinion. You realised Farrier had chosen this show because you’d spoken about comedies on the night you’d met. Relief washed over you as you engaged in conversation with him over another drink with him, smiling with him, recalling the funniest parts and snorting together.

(AN: I know this is from Child 44 but I love this gif please and thank you)

Gibson/Philippe

You worked in a grocers and Philippe was a frequent visitor. Not because he needed many items the store had to offer but because he was constantly trying to ask you out. Everytime he would go to one of the aisles to psych himself but he would then chicken out and end up buying an unnecessary vegetable without making much eye contact but with the pleasantries of his upbringing.

But one day he finally had the nerve. He waltzed into the store and stood before your counter. Before you could even get in the standard greeting, Philippe asked in a jumble (rather than a mumble) if you would join him for lunch one day, during a break or after your shift, whatever was good for you. He finished by clapping his hands once to clasp them together in silent prayer. This was not expected at all by you since this man had never said more than ten words to you but now he had more than enough tumbling out of his mouth in the most adorable way possible. You nodded, telling him your shift would end in half an hour if he wanted to go then.

Philippe ran that confidence high all the way through that half an hour and a little beyond. Returning on the dot, he showed you to his favourite café with (in his humble opinion) the best baked goods in his town. Once sat at a table, he asked how work was, the usual carbon copy small talk that he’d practised in his head. He found himself jumping between barely speaking and speaking all too much but you didn’t mind. You offered him some of your cake and even though he’d had it a million times Philippe accepted your cute offer and paid you the same respect. He felt a flutter of his heart as hummed pleasantly with eyes closed and lips shaped not in the customer service smile but this winsome close lipped beauty that he wanted to see every day.

George Mills

He would bump into you doing his paper run, leaving the house to go do your chores before school. There was always a rushed but smiling “good morning!” from you and he would have a dopey grin on his face for the next hour, making the early rise worth it everytime.

With classes separated by sex, George didn’t get to see you as often as he’d like at school. Even worse you were always with friends so he could never get you alone to ask you out. Not until one day, he was walking back and planning how he would revise that afternoon when he saw you alone, walking just twenty feet ahead. Increasing his meander to a trot, he made it to your side and said good afternoon. You responded with the same eagerness and commented how it was good to see him actual daylight for once. Your comment would allow you to see his blush. Your comment would also light the very short fuse inside George, sparking the urge to ask you out again. He straightened up and came out with it.

Now George had taken you to the penny arcade and was determined to win you something. He had an entire bag of money he’d saved up from his paper round and loose change on the street or from expenses. That weight in his pocket gradually faded, lessening as each time either of you failed to win at the machines for the entirety of the afternoon. It was with the few remaining pennies that he bought gobstoppers from the sweet shop over the road. Together, you sat with your legs dangled off the pier and worked at your gobstoppers with the sun basking in your faces. Oooing at the various coloured layers, you leant your head on his shoulder and took his free hand in your not sticky one. Let’s just say George was pleased as punch with this end.

Gif Credit

Peter Dawson

Peter was your childhood sweetheart, having sent you many scribbles of your future wedding at aged three and given you his favourite spade at five. Unlike many fickle five year olds, he never asked for it back. That meant it was true love in his opinion, an unorthodox form of proposal.

At the ripe old age of sixteen, nine years into your “relationship”, Peter decided now was a good time to take you on a first date. For some reason, he was very nervous. What if it had all been just a running joke for you? Pushing those (quite frankly, rude) thoughts from his head, he bided his time and waited for the right moment. Waiting was awful. It was like he had been put in a slow cooker to simmer in his anxieties. His palms were profusely sweating when he finally asked you after tea at your house. He had to constantly wipe his hands on his trousers and jumper. Then you stole one of his strawberries and said that you would love to.

He didn’t really know what to do, figuring the day would take you somewhere. When you reached the edge of the bay and the start of the beach, you had a brain wave. You challenged him to a sandcastle building competition with the entire beach at your disposal and the same bright yellow spade he so adored a decade earlier. Grabbing some buckets too, you competed against the ticking clock of the tide. Soon it came in and demolished half of Peter’s structure, but only one turret of yours. You cheered in success and, accepting Peter’s (surprisingly not sweaty) hand as a prize, jumped over the waves together with your trouser cuffs rolled up. Both of you still got wet and had to explain to your parents respectively what you had been up to but in that moment you didn’t care about anything and neither did Peter.

(AN: A good soft boy)

Shivering Soldier

It takes him a very long time to ask you on a date, almost too long. But he knows his priority is on getting better and in the worst days, where his self-hatred is strongest, his motivation is to become a better man who can give you, his neighbour across the hall, everything you deserve. Because you’re so sweet, checking on him and helping him out, his anchor and he appreciated everything you did. He always planned on making sure you knew that

It was a gradual realisation that he was well enough to deal with his PTSD and, after careful preparation, he went to your flat and knocked. It took a lot to ignore the doubt, the dread that maybe he should wait a little longer. But as soon as you opened the door, he was too stubborn to turn back now. He was inside and you’d just offered tea like usual. Unlike usual, he said no. Quickly, he followed on saying that he would like to take you out for tea if you would like that as well. On a date. With him. That was when the doubt of such a wonderful person settling for a sick man filled his gut. But you said yes. To his utter delight and the man felt butterflies in his stomach.

You knew what he liked – routine – so you reminded him that you were wholly happy to just spend a day in with him. He was so relieved to hear that, without reluctance or compromise. He wanted everything to be perfect and having the first date in an environment he could control was the best possible option. Once you were in, he made tea. He remembered how you liked it which you thought was quite lovely. He asked the usual questions but saw that your eyes were straying to an incomplete chess board on his coffee table. When you noticed that he saw you wandering, you moved to the opposite side of the table and challenged him to a game – something he’d spoken about often in your flat. Three games later (with two victories to you), he felt completely at ease once again but still felt the butterflies as you hugged him in farewell.

Gif Credit

Tommy

This travelling market was a pleasure in Tommy’s life. An annual tradition of which he would spend the culmination of the year’s savings, one such pleasure he kept to himself because it gave him the freedom to wander about with restraint, embarrassment or accommodation of anyone else. But it was such a lovely experience he wanted to show you.

You were a friend of a friend, someone he wouldn’t say he was close too. Not close enough to share this treasure of his yet somehow Tommy was compelled to do so. In order to achieve that, he had to make sure that you didn’t hate him. With your mutual friends in the park, you were all finishing off a game of footie before heading back to your respective homes. His path followed yours just a few streets extra. That was when, with a dry throat, he asked if you would like to accompany him to the market. You had no knowledge of such a thing which then led to a titbit of what you would see Tommy like as he explained. His restricted joy for the place was enough to convince you to join him, with the affirmation of “it’s a date” before you left him to get home.

The hint of his joyous behaviour could not compare to his completely uninhibited. Tommy looked simply at bliss when you both stepped off the bus before the entrance. Both jogging into the pathway formed by terraced stalls, he began to tell you about it. He was lost in his enthusiasm, talking a mile a minute about everything he saw because everything he saw had a story attached to it. You could not be happier to see his awkwardness drop, seeing him ramble about his delights. He was so beautiful when he was lost in awe. His cheeks were red with cold and embarrassment when he silenced himself. But you looped your arm through his and asked a question which slowly built to another glorious discussion about this market, this time over a large hot dog that you split between each other. Tommy also bought you a little trinket – a wooden carving of a elephant half the size of your thumb – before you caught the bus home. The travelling market became a pleasure for you because it was when you got to see Tommy in such beauty like there never was before.

Gif Credit

Perma-tag: @tomgcsglasses, @lowdenglynnstyles, @prettyboytgc, @lowdensnose, @kgcurtis30, @carneylowdenwhitehead, @scottishlowden and @from-the-clouds

Dunkirk tag: @blondeeee-e

Jack tag: @londonr26

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Starting Over

Characters: Misha Collins, Y/N, Y/N’s parents (mentioned), Buck (omc - mentioned)

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Warnings: Past domestic abuse mentioned.   

Word Count: 2200ish

A/N: This is my entry for no less than 3 challenges because I was a schmuck and signed up for way too many.

It is my entry for @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 Favorite Things Writing Challenge where my prompt was fake husband/boyfriend AU - I might have cheated a bit. Hope you still like.

It is also my entry for @d-s-winchester 12 Days for Christmas Challenge and my picture is under the cut.

Lastly it is my entry for @impalaimagining favorite seasons gif challenge and my gif for that is also under the cut.

Thanks to my lil sis @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this for me.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Misha had been feeling as if something was up with Y/N all day. Y/N worked in hair and makeup on the set of Supernatural and Misha had known her for years. The first few years she had seemed quiet and shy. She always wore long sleeved shirts and Misha had caught her crying more than once.

One night she had finally broken down telling him, she was scared of her husband. That he was abusing her and she wanted out of the marriage. She didn’t know how, so Misha had offered his help. He had gotten in contact with people through Random Acts. They had helped Misha get in touch with people that actually knew what they were talking about which he did not. They had taught him the right approach to talk with her when she pulled back into her shell and which people to help her get in contact with. He had been her best friend and staying by her side through it all. When she went to the police he was with her. When she was in court he was with her. He let her live in his apartment in Vancouver for a few month before she found her own place and he was there to help her move once she did.

That day had started the change in her. It was like a new beginning and a new happier, more outgoing Y/N blossomed. Misha had stayed close with her. She was his best friend and almost every week the two of them went out. Either to watch a movie or do something random Misha came up with on the day. He enjoyed surprising her. He loved hearing her laugh and over the years he had come to miss her when he wasn’t around her. Had the circumstances been different he might have asked her out, but Y/N hadn’t shown any interest in dating anyone the two and half years she had been divorced. She appeared to be happy and content on her own and Misha was afraid him pushing would mess up their relationship.

Her behavior today though had her worried. She seemed to be avoiding him as best as she could. Whenever they were in the same room, she hardly smiled no matter how hard he tried. Misha racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had done, but nothing came to him. Last week when he had been on set, she had been happy and practically whined about going to miss him when he went home to visit family in Washington for the week.

Misha honestly didn’t understand what happened between then and now, all he knew was he had felt like she had been annoying him all that. Eventually Misha had given up and he just let her be until the end of the day. He had been hoping to catch her but the other hair and makeup girls said that she had left early, which only served to worry Misha more. Y/N ran the department and she was usually always the first person in the trailer and the last to leave. She loved her job and she took a lot of pride in everything being perfect.

It didn’t take Misha long to decide on what he had to do. No matter what he had done, he owed it to both of them to figure out what it was. She owed it to them to tell him, so he could apologize and make things right between them again. So Misha got in his car and drove for her apartment rather than his own.

The surprise on her face was evident when she opened the door to see Misha standing outside, but she still gave him a small smile before letting him in. For the first time in forever Misha felt slightly uncomfortable and like a guest in her home. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself so he just stood there in the middle of her living room. He looked around, smiling slightly when he saw all the christmas decorations scattered around the place but not yet hung. The smell of spruce and meadowsweet hung in the air, adding to the feel of Christmas in the room.

“I was just making hot chocolate. Do you want some?” Y/N asked, slipping from the room into the kitchen and Misha once again felt as if she was avoiding him. She had let him in but him being here seemed to make her feel uncomfortable which hurt Misha deeply.

“Y/N/N…” Misha slowly followed her into the kitchen, standing in the doorway as he watched her heat up the cocoa. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, causing her to spin around and stare at him in shock.

“No. Mish I am sorry… I didn’t mean too… I…” she started rambling in broken sentences and Misha breath a sigh of relief as he stepped towards her pulling her into his chest. Y/N instantly relaxed against him wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his heart.

“What do you say we get the hot chocolate and talk on the couch?” Misha suggested, lovingly running his fingers through her hair. He was beyond relieved to have her in his arms. Whatever was going on it appeared to have nothing to do with him, but Misha was still worried. Something was up with her and every fiber of his being screamed at him to find out what it was so he could help her make it better.

He didn’t release her completely when they pulled apart. His hand stayed on her back as she poured the hot chocolate and handed him a cup. His free hand slipped into hers, when they walked to the couch, sitting down beside her. The small touches was as much to reassure her that everything was going to be fine as it was to calm his own racing mind.

Seated that the couch Y/N fiddled with her cup without saying anything for a few minutes. Misha didn’t push her he just gave her knee a small squeeze, before leaning back. He wanted to give her her space but still let her know that he was there. There was nothing she could say or do that would push him away. She was his best friend, but more than that Misha loved her even more than he was willing to admit to himself.

“My parents are coming over this weekend…” Y/N started causing Misha to frown. He knew that she loved her parents. They had tried to help her out of her marriage unsuccessfully, before she confided in Misha. They were amazing people and Y/N loved them very much. Misha didn’t understand what about them coming for a visit that caused her so much distress.

“They have been wanting me to move on and go on dates and stuff for some time…” Y/N continued and Misha took a deep breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to move on or be happy. More than anything he did, but seeing her with someone else was going to be hard. Still Misha stayed still. His eyes rested on her but she didn’t look at him. She kept fiddling with her cup and her eyes stayed looked on it as she spoke.

“I wanted them to stop asking so I told them I was dating someone. But then they wanted to met him even if I said it was a new thing. I guess they wanted to make sure he wasn’t like Buck,” Misha at this point reached out giving her arm a small squeeze and her eyes met his for the first time. What he saw in her eyes took him completely by surprise. She looked ashamed. The look was fleeting before her eyes once again fell back onto the cup, which she was now clinging too.

“I knew that they like you a lot and wouldn’t push if…” her words trailed out, as her eyes teared up, but Misha had never felt more relieved in his life as he pieced together the pieces. He couldn’t help but smile as he took the cup from her hands and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“You told them we are dating,” he helped her, causing her to nod against his chest and she started sobbing.

“I’m so sorry Mish… They are coming this Friday and they want to go to set and say hi to you and��� I didn’t think. I am so sorry,” Y/N rambled, before Misha gently started hushing her, rubbing circles on her back.

“It’s okay Y/N/N. I’ll met them. It’s fine,” Misha promised her and Y/N instantly pulled back a little looking up at him in surprise.

“You wanna pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Misha shifted a little in his seat. He wanted nothing more than being honest. He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted to tell her he was in love with her and he would be okay with taking things as slow as she needed too. He wanted to tell her he wanted to prove to her that she deserved the best. That he would spent his life putting a smile on her face and that no matter how things progressed between then, he would never hurt her like her dickbag ex husband had done.

Only he didn’t. Losing her still scared the life out of him. He wanted to be in her life however she allowed him to be, even if meant pushing down his own feelings for her.

“Yeah… if you want me too,” Misha shrugged, trying to make it appear as if it was no big deal.

After their conversation Y/N hugged Misha and she instantly went back to her old self. It was as if a weight had been lifted on her. Misha on the other hand, started faking around her.

For the next few days he acted as if nothing was wrong. He went to work. They chatted and laughed just like always, but the feeling that he wanted more between them he had been able to push down for so long started growing inside of him. He knew that he had to tell her and soon. Either way he had to know how she felt. Misha just wanted to wait until after her parents visit. He had made her a promise and he wasn’t going to break that or make her feel uncomfortable about it. He was still and always would be her best friend first.

The day before her parents was arriving, Y/N had convinced Misha to go tree shopping with her. Not that it had taken much convincing. He loved spending time with her even now that he was painfully aware he would have to tell her about his feelings sooner rather than later.

She was practically bouncing around the farm, leading them further and further away from everyone else. Smiling and laughing the entire time, making Misha incredibly happy. Her laughter was without a doubt his favorite sound in the world and the way her eyes shun, making the golden flakes stand out clearly was his favorite sight.

“Okay. We’re here,” Y/N twirled around to face, instantly snapping Misha out of his thoughts. He looked around in confusion, seeing nothing but trees around them and none of which stood out to him as something she would have zoned in on.

“We’re where?” Misha stared at her in confusing, furrowing his brows, but smiling when she giggled.

Y/N reached into her bag, pulling out a mistletoe, handing it to Misha, which only added to his confusion.

“I didn’t tell my parents you were my boyfriend because it was safe. I didn’t tell them because I knew they liked you. I told them because I wished it was that way. It was dumb, but it doesn’t change the fact that I like you. I think you like me too, but if you don’t you can just throw that thing away and I’ll never mentioned it again,” Y/N pointed to the mistletoe, taking super fast just like she always did when she was nervous.

Misha stood there staring at her. His mind not fully able to comprehend what she had just said and the only word out of his mouth made him want to kick himself. “What?”

Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, wrapping her arms around his wait, “Misha you’re my best friend. You’ve always been there for me. You make me happier than I have ever been. I wanna be your for real girlfriend if you’ll have me?”

Misha stared down at her for a few seconds before a huge grin spread across his face. He wrapped his arm around her, lifting the mistletoe over their heads, causing Y/N to throw her head back in laughter. A serene happy smile graced her beautiful face when her eyes met Misha’s. He sent her a goofy happy smirk, looking up at the mistletoe before back into her eyes.

“I guess this means you’ll have to kiss me,” he teased, making her roll her eyes before she sassed back.

“Well if I absolutely have t…” she started but was cut short when Misha kissed her. It didn’t take him long to drop the mistletoe and cradle the back of her head with his hand. Telling her everything he had been holding back over the past few years with just one kiss, as he vowed to himself to never hold anything back from her ever again.

Misha Tag Team

@sleepylunarwolf @mysteriously-lost @blacktithe7 @fatalcrossbow @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysupernaturalfics @crushing83 @superapplepie @docharleythegeekqueen @ruined-by-destiel @blushingdean @theoriginalvicki @feelmyroarrrr @hexparker @elevenofmages @jensen-gal @mysterious-398 @dustycelt @adriellej @ashleydivine @waywardmoeyy @percywinchester27 @percussiongirl2017 @becs-bunker @sillesworldofwriting @sandlee44 @smoothdogsgirl @winchester-writes

[bettydraperlookingpissed]

Matthew Weiner, The Art of Screenwriting No. 4

Born in 1965, Matthew Weiner is barely old enough to remember the period with which his television series Mad Men has now become almost synonymous. His office is exactly what one might hope for the creator of Don Draper: a stylish mixture of midcentury modern furniture, with a cabinet full of top-shelf liquor. But it turns out that the furniture came with the building, which was designed in 1955, and the liquor, mostly gifts, is wasted on Weiner, who hardly drinks at all.

(Copy and pasted cuz TPR charges and I got your back, man. Or maybe you’re made of money and can afford that kind of thing. It’s long in case ya wanna save it. Good Sunday night reading.)

Weiner’s sensibility reveals itself on closer inspection. A framed still from the set is shot from behind the actors’ heads, showing the crew. There’s a black-and-white photograph of Groucho Marx, Alice Cooper, and Marvin Hamlisch in conversation. There’s a homemade Father’s Day card by one of Weiner’s four sons, reading “Dad Men” in red and black crayon. There’s a picture of Stedman (Oprah’s boyfriend), because when Vanity Fair photographed Weiner’s desk soon after Oprah’s, he asked what she’d had on hers. His bookshelf overflows with fiction, essays, and poetry—from Diaries of Old Manhattan to Billy Collins to Moby-Dick.

A former Jeopardy! champion who once, rather than give notes, jumped up and danced to “Zou Bisou Bisou” for Jessica Paré (Megan Draper on the show), Weiner seems never to sleep. Our interview took place in four sessions that spanned almost eighteen months—real months, that is. More time than that passed on the show during the same period, but to say exactly how much would be, in Weiner’s universe, a spoiler. We spoke late into the night after he had spent full days in preproduction meetings, in editing, in sound-mixing sessions, on set, and in the writers’ room—and we could only sit down to talk on the rare nights when he didn’t have to write. Even with this schedule, he comes in every morning inspired by a movie he’s seen, an article he’s read, or a poem he’s remembered. (I’m lucky to be a writer on the show.) Weiner begins every season by rereading John Cheever’s preface to his Collected Stories: “A writer can be seen clumsily learning to walk, to tie his necktie, to make love, and to eat his peas off a fork. He appears much alone and determined to instruct himself.” The life of a showrunner leaves him almost no time to be alone, but Weiner seems always to be instructing himself.

WEINER

You know, I got a subscription to The Paris Review when I was fourteen or fifteen years old. I read those interviews all the time. They were really helpful.

INTERVIEWER

How did they help you?

WEINER

There were people talking about writing like it was a job, first of all. And then saying “I don’t know” a lot. It’s helpful, when you’re a kid, to hear someone saying “I don’t know.” Also, they were asking questions that I would’ve asked, only I’d have been embarrassed to ask them. Like, What time of day do you write?

INTERVIEWER

What time of day do you write?

WEINER

I write at night on this job because I have to, except Sundays when I write all day and all night. Left to my own devices I will always end up writing late at night, because I’m a procrastinator. But if there’s a deadline, I will write round the clock.

INTERVIEWER

Did you know when you were a kid that writing was the job you wanted?

WEINER

I wanted to be a writer, but the way my family thought of writers, that would have been like saying, I want to be quarterback of the football team or president of the United States. My parents had the books every Jewish family had—My Name Is Asher Lev, QB VII, O Jerusalem!—but they were also really into Joseph Heller, and my dad took Swann’s Way on every vacation. I always thought I would be a novelist, like the people whose books I saw lying around the house.

INTERVIEWER

Did you read those books?

WEINER

Not really. I read very slowly. I’m a good listener. If they’d had books on tape back then, I would be the best-read person in the world. When I had to do a report on Measure for Measure, I went and got the records, and I listened to John Gielgud do it. My dad read Mark Twain to us at night. I loved “The Stolen White Elephant” and “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.” And The Prince and the Pauper, oh my God, did I love that. I read Mad magazine and stuff, but my parents were always yelling at me, You need to read more! Crack a book already! I was not really a reader until I left college. My favorite form of writing is still the short story. Winesburg, Ohio was the first book that I read where I recognized the people in it. I knew the teacher who was sort of gay and couldn’t control his hands. I recognized everybody in there. And then, with John Cheever, I recognized myself in the voice of the narrator. His voice sounds like the voice in my head—or what I wish it sounded like.

INTERVIEWER

Who are your favorite writers?

WEINER

I don’t make lists or rank writers. I can only say which ones are relevant to me. Salinger holds my attention, Yates holds my attention. John O’Hara doesn’t, I don’t know why—it’s the same environment, but he doesn’t. Cheever holds my attention more than any other writer. He is in every aspect of Mad Men, starting with the fact that Don lives in Ossining on Bullet Park Road—the children are ignored, people have talents they can’t capitalize on, everyone is selfish to some degree or in some kind of delusion. I have to say, Cheever’s stories work like TV episodes, where you don’t get to repeat information about the characters. He grabs you from the beginning.

Poems have always held my attention, but they’re denser and smaller. It’s funny because poetry is considered harder to read. It wasn’t harder for me. Close reading, that is. Milton, Chaucer, Dante—I could handle those for some reason, but not fiction. From ninth grade on, I wrote poetry compulsively, and pushed myself to do iambic pentameter and rhymes because free verse was cheating—anybody could do that. But I was such a terrible student. I couldn’t sustain anything.

INTERVIEWER

What pointed you toward drama?

WEINER

Actually, I think it has something to do with my not being a great reader. When a play’s put up, it’s all there in front of you. When you’re a little kid who has trouble with long books, it’s a very literary experience to go see Eugene O’Neill. During high school, I wrote skits, I did improv, I was a performer. My senior year in high school I was elected by my class to give a speech at graduation. It was seven or eight minutes of stand-up comedy, including a salute to the bottom fifth of the class, of which I was part. The dad of a classmate of mine, a guy named Allan Burns, who created The Mary Tyler Moore Show, came up to me afterward. He said, Have you ever thought about writing for TV? You could do that.

INTERVIEWER

Had you thought about it?

WEINER

I had been raised more or less without TV. I loved it, my parents loved it—but we weren’t allowed to watch it. And yet what was on TV during those years? M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Carol Burnett and Bob Newhart. TV was very bad before that, and got very bad after that, but at the time it was really very good. The thing is, I took what Allan Burns said seriously just because it was the first time someone said I might be able to do anything. But my parents hated show business. It’s part of living in Los Angeles.

There was one other formative experience. One of our English teachers, Ms. Moser, had a poet come to visit our school—W.S. Merwin. The honor society got to have dinner with him. Even though I made bad grades, I edited the literary magazine, and the teacher made sure I was allowed to go, too. She had even told him about me, because when we met he said, Tell me your name again, I want to remember it. In my yearbook, Ms. Moser wrote to me, Keep doing what you’re doing, and stick to poetry and starve.

INTERVIEWER

Which you did not do.

WEINER

I tried. At Wesleyan I could not get into any writing classes. I applied to everything and got rejected. You’re laughing now, you should have heard my parents. Six hundred students, all that money, and you can’t get into class!? An older student, who was studying with the famous professor Frank Reeve, told me I should go and ask, personally, to take a tutorial with him. Franklin D’Olier Reeve. This Vermont Yankee, log-splitting son of a bitch. He had gone with Robert Frost to Russia. Incredibly handsome and charismatic—in fact, he was Christopher Reeve’s father. I imagined he was in the CIA. So I went to his office and brought my poems with me. He shredded them. I had some line that was like, “Where does it hide?”—this is sophomore poetry, right?—“Where does it hide to gently squeeze the pitch of morning into orange whispers of dusk, squeeze the pitch of dusk into orange whispers of morning,” and he said, Lose the split infinitive and juice squeezer. It was brutal. Then he said, When do we start?

I spent three semesters studying with Professor Reeve, writing poems and delivering one or two of them to him every week. I also took a lot of poetry classes. There were a couple years there where The Waste Land was the most interesting thing in the world to me. I loved that it was so personal and grimy and gross and epic at the same time. Two women talking about getting an abortion in a bar at closing time right next to a story about Greek gods and the Fisher King. The high and the low together. It is so important to my life as a writer, there’s so much dialogue, so much rhythm that I have tried to emulate. That’s still my idea of what a poetic sentence sounds like. My senior thesis was in creative writing, was poetry.

INTERVIEWER

What were your poems like?

WEINER

Pretty funny, a lot of them, in an ironic way. And very confessional. A lot like what I do on Mad Men, actually—I don’t think people always realize the show is super personal, even though it’s set in the past. It was as if the admission of uncomfortable thoughts had already become my business on some level. I love awkwardness. Reeve compared my poems to cartoons. He had me read “Mac Flecknoe,” Dryden’s satire on the poet Thomas Shadwell, because he knew I had a sense of humor and was interested in celebrities. He also told me that I had to be as interesting as my work, which terrified me. I was like, Forget it, dude. I’m a very conventional person. I’m middle-class. My father’s a physician. I had no personality to speak of. I kept wishing I had grown up interesting so I could be a great writer.

INTERVIEWER

Maybe Reeve turned you into a TV writer by giving you a weekly deadline.

WEINER

I’ve always said TV writing is for people who hate being alone more than they hate writing. Even then I needed to talk about what I was doing. Once I knew that my writing would be read right away, even if it was judged—and once I knew that it would be shot right away—that was all I cared about.

INTERVIEWER

Did you figure this out in film school?

WEINER

No. I didn’t go to film school for writing, but I realized that if you could write, you could have complete control. All these people I admired—Woody Allen, Jim Brooks, Preston Sturges—directed and wrote. When directors would come to the school and talk about their movies, eventually they’d have to talk about the fact that someone else had written it. To me that was like the dirty secret.

Then I graduated from film school and was stuck in a hole by myself for three years, writing. Linda, my wife, was supporting us, but that was awful. I was not made for that. I am not the writer who wants to live in the woods. Plus, half my time was spent trying to get into show business, which is demoralizing and somehow futile without finished work, but easier than writing.

INTERVIEWER

What were you writing during that time?

WEINER

Screenplays. I finished a screenplay that I’d started at USC. Then I wrote another screenplay about paparazzi. Then I started working on a Big Movie. After film school, I read everything that had been assigned to me in college. I mean, everything. I read Mein Kampf. I read all the time instead of writing. And I read a lot of biographies and became interested in this kind of American picaresque character. By picaresque I don’t mean like Candide. I don’t mean a guy who shit’s happening to. I mean a guy who is making his own future because he has no other options. I mean Tom Jones. So I was writing this movie following a guy’s life from 1930 to the millennium. And I got to page 80 of the thing, and I abandoned it.

Then I decided I was going to make a movie, an improvised movie that I was going to be in. Kind of a comedy Cassavetes movie—people improvising, but in a story. This was around the time of Clerks. I saw Clerks and felt the way many people did. It wasn’t like hearing the Beatles for the first time. It was a ten-thousand-dollar amateur black-and-white movie. It was inspiring in the way only something crude and peculiar can be inspiring.

And because I had gone to film school, I knew what commercial filmmaking was and knew I didn’t like it. In the nineties there was a stranglehold of formula on the movies. People would point to great movies like Chinatown as examples of how structure generates great works. But I always felt that these structures were derived from great works. The individual stories are organic, they come out of people’s heads. To say that the story of Jesus and the story of Moses are the same story is a horrible mistake. Are they both heroic? Yes. Do they both have inauspicious beginnings and unmarked graves? Yes. That does not make them the same story. But the studios were trying to consolidate films into a bulletproof system, they were trying to reverse engineer a hit—which, of course, is insane. In entertainment you’re a fool to try that.

One of the big things was, everybody hated “episodic structure,” as they used to call it.

INTERVIEWER

Meaning what?

WEINER

They were uncomfortable with a movie like The Godfather or a story like the Odyssey, where the only thing holding the events together is the characters. Now, there’s this monster, this obstacle, but there’s no real progression—the hero just keeps trying to get home. Sure, Michael Corleone starts off as a young war hero and ends up as the godfather, but the wedding takes up the first half hour of the movie. People liked to talk about “act breaks” and “rising action” leading to a climax, but what about Apocalypse Now? Someone’s on a journey, and sure, we’re heading toward a climax, but there are so many digressions. To me, those digressions are the story.

People would say to me, What’s holding this together? Or, How is this moment related to the opening scene, or the problem you set up on page 15? I don’t know. That’s where the character went. That’s the story. So many movies in the seventies are told this way, episodically, and they feel more like real life because you don’t see the story clicking. Movies like Days of Heaven—big movies that take time out to show the locusts. Do you need the crop duster in North by Northwest? No, but it is the most memorable part of the movie. It has no essential function in the story. Cary Grant has already been pursued. They’ve already tried to kill him. They’ve drugged him. They’ve poured booze down his throat. Remember how Cary Grant goes back to the house where the bad guys got him at the beginning of the movie and poured booze down his throat? He comes back the next day and says, This is where I was, they poured booze down my throat. Remember how he goes into the room where they poured the booze into him and they’ve changed the couch?

INTERVIEWER

Even now the hair on my neck is standing up.

WEINER

They’re so evil. They changed the couch! It’s preposterous, but delightful. Of course, anything that is epic is episodic in structure, whether it’s Lawrence of Arabia or The Godfather, which was already being treated like an art movie—the most successful commercial movie in the world treated like an art-house movie.

I liked episodic structure and I thought it worked. I still think it works. At the time I was especially interested in Billy Wilder and Fellini. I liked their grasp of tone, the way the movies are both funny and dark. You’re always scared and laughing and on the verge of tears somewhere in the middle of these movies. I could watch Sunset Boulevard and 8 1⁄2 over and over again. Everything you need to know about writing is in those two movies. How to tell a story, where to start the story, whose point of view it’s from, at what point you leave their point of view, when you should see a character in a scene by himself or herself—all this shit that drives you nuts when you’re trying to structure something. And then, the fact that there are no rules. That’s what both movies are saying—there are no rules, the audience is not as rigid as you think, and certainly not as rigid as the people paying for the movies to get made.

Anyway, once I got out of film school I said, They will not let me fly the plane. So I’m going to build my own airport. I shot my first movie, What Do You Do All Day?, in twelve days, in 1995. It cost twelve thousand dollars. Anybody can raise twelve thousand dollars—now it would probably be even cheaper, because there was no digital then.

Around that time, my friend Daisy von Scherler Mayer called me up and said, I sold this sitcom. Come in and sit at the table. We’re going to run through the script and you’ll just pitch jokes. The show was called Party Girl. And I drove onto the Warner Brothers lot and sat down at the table with all these professional writers and had no trouble talking and telling jokes. Not just because I’m an extrovert, but because I’d just made this movie and I knew it was funny. You’ve never heard of What Do You Do All Day? and it never went anywhere, but I still say it changed my life. Making that movie took me from being a frustrated, bitter person with no control over his life to a delusional, grandiose person with no control over his life. I was so high on the idea of having a job and writing jokes and going down to the stage and seeing the actors saying them and getting laughs. I couldn’t believe it.

INTERVIEWER

So none of the screenplays you’d been writing before that period were made?

WEINER

Well, remember the eighty-page picaresque thing I threw away? That turned out to be the basis for Mad Men.

INTERVIEWER

Really?

WEINER

Four years after I’d started working in TV, I wrote the pilot for Mad Men. Three years after that, AMC wanted to make it. They asked me, What’s the next episode about? So I went looking through my notes. Now, imagine this. At this point it’s 2004—I’m writing for The Sopranos—and I go back to look at my notes from 1999 ... but then I find this unfinished screenplay from 1995, and on the last page it says “Ossining, 1960.” Five years after I’d abandoned that other screenplay, I’d started writing it again without even knowing it. Don Draper was the adult version of the hero in the movie. And there were all of these things in the movie that became part of the show—Don’s past, his rural poverty, the story I was telling about the United States, about who these people were. And when I say “these people,” I mean people like Lee Iacocca and Sam Walton, even Bill Clinton to some degree. I realized that these people who ran the country were all from these very dark backgrounds, which they had hidden, and that the self-transforming American hero, the Jay Gatsby or the talented Mr. Ripley, still existed. I once worked at a job where there was a guy who said he went to Harvard. Someone finally said, You did not go to Harvard—that guy didn’t go to Harvard! And everyone was like, Who cares? That went into the show.

How could it not matter, when everyone was fighting so hard to get into Harvard and it was supposed to change your life? And you could just lie about it? Guess what—in America, we say, Good for him! Good for him, for figuring it out.

INTERVIEWER

I’m struck by the irony that Don Draper has become an icon of the 1960s Establishment when the character himself feels like such an outsider.

WEINER

Everyone loves the Horatio Alger version of life. What they don’t realize is that these transformations begin in shame, because poverty feels shameful. It shouldn’t, but everyone who’s experienced it confirms this. Sometimes people say, I didn’t know we were poor—Don Draper knows he’s poor, very much in the model of Iacocca or Walton, who came out of the Great Depression, out of really humble beginnings. Or like Conrad Hilton, on the show. These men don’t take no for an answer, they build these big businesses, these empires, but really it’s all based on failure, insecurity, and an identity modeled on some abstract ideal of white power. I’ve always said this is a show about becoming white. That’s the definition of success in America—becoming a WASP. A WASP male.

The driving question for the series is, Who are we? When we talk about “we,” who is that? In the pilot, Pete Campbell has this line, “Adding money and education doesn’t take the rude edge out of people.” Sophisticated anti-Semitism. I overheard that line when I was a schoolteacher. The person, of course, didn’t know they were in the presence of a Jew. I was a ghost. Certain male artists like to show that they’re feminists as a way to get girls. That’s always seemed pimpy to me. I sympathize with feminism the same way I identify with gay people and with people of color, because I know what it’s like to look over the side of the fence and then to climb over the fence and to feel like you don’t belong, or be reminded at the worst moment that you don’t belong.

Take Rachel Menken, the department-store heiress in the first season of Mad Men. She’s part of what I call the nose-job generation. She’s assimilated. She probably doesn’t observe the Sabbath or any of these other things that her parents did. That generation had a hard time because they were trying desperately to be buttoned-down and preppy and—this is my parent’s generation—white as could be. They were embarrassed by their parents. This is the story of America, this assimilation. Because guess what, this guy Don has the same problems. He’s hiding his identity, too. That’s why Rachel Menken understands Don, because they’re both trying desperately to be white American males.

Of all of them, Peggy is my favorite. I identify with her struggle. She is so earnest and self-righteous and talented and smart, but dumb about personal things. She thinks she’s living the life of “we.” But she’s not. And every time she turns a corner, someone says, “You’re not part of ‘we.’ ” “But you all said ‘we’ the other day.” “Yes, we meant, ‘we white men.’ ”

INTERVIEWER

It’s strange that you wrote the hour-long drama Mad Men just when you were succeeding as a half-hour sitcom writer.

WEINER

I didn’t see a future in situation comedy. There wasn’t room anymore for something like M*A*S*H*, where they would have sentimental moments and episodes that could sneak up on you and make you cry.

When I started out, there were few dramas on TV. They were out of style. There were four news magazines a week, and there was Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?, or whatever, and the procedurals and the game shows. Reality TV hadn’t happened yet. Then, while I was doing it, situation comedy went from being the most lucrative and exciting place to be in television to disappearing. All the things that people hate about network TV were starting to fail economically, and still the networks were asking, How do we re-create Friends? By the time I wrote the Mad Menpilot, the syndication market had dried up. Survivor happened when I was writing on the sitcom Becker. Survivor, The Sopranos, and Lost all happened within a few years of each other. By then, drama had become really big. And then David Chase hired me for The Sopranos based on my script for Mad Men.

INTERVIEWER

You worked on three seasons of The Sopranos before you went back to your Mad Men pilot. Did that change your conception of your show?

WEINER

Mad Men would have been some sort of crisp, soapy version of The West Wing if not for The Sopranos. Peggy would have been a climber. All the things that people thought were going to happen would have happened. Even though the pilot itself has a dark, strange quality, I didn’t know that that was what was good about it. I just wanted an excuse to exorcise my demons, to write a story about somebody who’s thirty-five years old, who has everything, and who is miserable.

The important thing, for me, was hearing the way David Chase indulged the subconscious. I learned not to question its communicative power. When you see somebody walking down a dark hallway, you know that they’re scared. We don’t have to explain that it’s scary. Why is this person walking down a dark hallway when he’s on his way to his kids’ school? Because he’s scared about someone telling him something bad about his kids. He’s worried about hearing something that will reflect badly on the way he’s raised his kids, which goes back to his own childhood. All that explanatory stuff, we never even talked about it. And I try not to talk about it here. Why did that happen? Why do you think? You can’t cheat and tell people what’s going on, because then they won’t enjoy it, even if they say they want it that way.

You know how sometimes I give you a note that says, Why don’t you do X? and you say, That’s the thing I wanted to do? That’s what I learned at The Sopranos. That’s the note I try to give to everyone who writes here. Take the risk of doing the extreme thing, the embarrassing thing, the thing that’s in your subconscious. Before The Sopranos, when someone said, Make it deeper, I didn’t know what they meant. Or really, I knew in my gut—but I also knew that it was the one thing that crossed my mind that I wasn’t going to do. To have Peggy come into Don’s office after he’s had the baby and ask for a raise and be rejected, and look at the baby presents, so we know she’s thinking about her own baby that she gave away, and then to have her tell Don, “You have everything and so much of it.” There is something embarrassing about that. A scene that was really just about her getting turned down for a raise became a scene about her whole life. That was the sort of thing I learned from working with David Chase.

Another thing that happened when I began writing on The Sopranos was I noticed that people were always telling me anecdotes. They would throw out a line of dialogue they’d heard somebody say or that someone had said to them—and that was the story. I did not know how important that shit was. There’s an episode where Beansie and Paulie are reminiscing and Tony dismissively says, “‘Remember when’ is the lowest form of conversation.” And it’s devastating. David Chase had witnessed that actual statement. Now I have a ton of stuff like that I’ve saved, things people have said to me that are concise and devastating and sum up some moment in their lives. When I’m talking to some woman on an airplane, and she says, I like being bad and going home and being good, that is very useful.

INTERVIEWER

Did you cultivate your memory for those moments?

WEINER

I always had that kind of memory, I just didn’t know there was any value in it. One time we were doing a research call at The Sopranos. It was a two-hour conference call with a guy talking about emergency medicine. At the end of it, the writer’s assistant, who was taking notes, had a bunch of medical facts, but all of us writers had written down the same two ideas. All of us. Just those same two ideas in two hours.

INTERVIEWER

What were they?

WEINER

He said that everyone with insurance is a VIP. And he used the expression “wallet biopsy.” I think they’re self-explanatory. But that’s what being a writer is. I don’t know what makes something a story, but I know one when I hear it. Mad Men was a show I wanted to see. I really wanted to tell a story about that period. I thought it was sexy. I wanted to live in it a little bit, and I wanted to remind people that they have a misconception about the past, any past.

INTERVIEWER

What sort of misconception?

WEINER

You know in Reds, when they’re interviewing the witnesses, and Henry Miller says, People today think they invented fucking? That kind of thing. The old people you’re looking at, they may have been more carnal than we are—drunker, less responsible, more violent. So many of those film noirs are about how soldiers reintegrate themselves into society. The private detective is haunted by the shadow of having killed people in the war. Don’t even get me started on The Best Years of Our Lives. The move to the suburbs, the privacy, the conservatism of the fifties—that’s all being driven by guys who, for two years, had not gone to the bathroom in privacy. I’m not the first TV person to be puzzled and fascinated by the fifties. The two biggest shows of the seventies are M*A*S*H* and Happy Days. Obviously that moment is some sort of touchstone for culture. Is Hawkeye not related to Don Draper? He’s an alcoholic Boy Scout who behaves badly all the time. I just wanted to go back and look again.

So I spent a lot of money buying videotapes to watch movies from the period. I hired somebody to do research for me. Then, because I was working all day, I stumbled on the idea of dictating. I found that I was constantly thinking of dialogue and couldn’t write it down fast enough. I heard that Billy Wilder did it, too. He walked around with a riding crop while his writing partners would type. Joseph Conrad did it. So did Henry James. I’ve since kept track because some of my writer friends think it’s cheating. And it’s hard to believe you can be as eloquent as your characters, but you can be if you have the topic and you’re channeling them. Then you get to fix it afterward. It’s way better than sitting there and procrastinating while you write a new piece of description and try to perfect the sentence.

INTERVIEWER

Will you describe how you write the show now?

WEINER

At the beginning of the season I dictate a lot of notes about the stories I’m interested in. Then for each episode, we start with a group-written story, an outline. When I read the outline, I rarely get a sense of what the story is. It has to be told to me. Then I go into a room with an assistant and I dictate the scenes, the entire script, page by page.

INTERVIEWER

I’ve seen you do whole scenes without pausing.

WEINER

I can see it in my head. And I don’t look at the dictation. I try and keep it in my head. That’s why the fatigue gets so bad. And why it’s crucial to have the right assistant. It requires the chemistry, it requires them reading my mind a little bit so they know when I’m moving back to an earlier person who’s talking or which person is saying it—because sometimes I stop identifying the speakers. After a while I’ll talk in different voices. I don’t even know what I’m doing when I walk around making up those scenes. But I wrote my play the same way, and my second movie, You Are Here. If you compose that way, it means the dialogue can all be said. John Slattery and I had an argument about something in the second episode, where there was a bit of a tongue twister. He was supposed to say, “Coop is going to want a carbon with your hand-picked team for Nixon on it. And I warn you right now, it includes Pete Campbell.” He said it was impossible to say, but I knew it could be said because I’d said it. I rattled it right off to him. Then he smiled and performed it and everything else I wrote for him. I started writing more tongue twisters for John. My favorite was, “He knows what that nut means to Utz and what Utz means to us.”

INTERVIEWER

What’s the main difference between writing for someone else’s show and writing for your own?

WEINER

It’s one thing to hear Tony Soprano say your dialogue. That is ridiculous. That’s a totally surreal experience. It’s another thing to create an entire environment and walk onto the set of this fake office from a different era and see Peggy in her ponytail and bangs and Joan looking like Joan. It was better than I could have imagined. I am a controlling person. I’m at odds with the world, and like most people I don’t have any control over what’s going to happen—I only have wishes and dreams. But to be in this environment where you actually control how things are going to work out, and who’s going to win, and what they’re going to learn, and who kisses who...

INTERVIEWER

And then you have the challenge of doing episode after episode, season after season. You once said to me, “I’ve written hundreds and hundreds of scenes with two people in them. You have to know what kind of scene it is.” What did you mean?

WEINER

When I was just starting out, a writer explained to me the meat and potatoes of situation comedy. For instance, a scene where one guy thinks he’s talking about one thing and the other guy thinks they’re talking about something else sounds like a big cliché. But guess what? That’s comedy. The question is, Can you do it well? I’ve personally written some of the most clichéd comedy scenes on Mad Men.

INTERVIEWER

Like what?

WEINER

Like the first season, when Pete goes to return that chip-and-dip at the store. He tries to hit on the officious clerk and she rejects him, then that other guy comes in and hits on her, and she loves it. That could be a scene on any situation comedy in the world, right down to waiting in line. To me, waiting in line is one of the funniest things in the world.

Or think of the premiere of season 3 of Mad Men, where Ken and Pete both get promoted to head of accounts. I put them in the elevator so that each of them can magnanimously congratulate the loser. I wanted to see how long we could sustain the dramatic irony. When I got to The Sopranos, I realized that I hated it when one character would just help another character through the scene. “I got something to tell you.” “Well, uh, what have you got to tell me?” “It’s kind of hard to say, Ron.” “Well, I’m listening.” I don’t know about everybody else, but I find that whenever I really want to say something, there’s a huge obstacle. Except in this interview.

INTERVIEWER

What about all the scenes you do with four or five or six people? Or more? You have all those status meetings, all those partners’ meetings.

WEINER

Those are tough, and the hardest part of my job is dealing with exposition. So populating those meetings with a lot of characters gives you a chance to bury it. But I find that giving each of the characters their own goal in the scene helps them talk in my head. And that’s usually the place for the most drama. Characters go in the story from having a private problem to having a public problem, even if they just lie about it. Which I guess is some convoluted definition of dramatic irony. Take the meeting in the episode “Hands and Knees.” Don has almost been caught by the government. Pete has to turn down North American Aviation and lie for Don or Don will go to jail. Pete also knows that Don is sleeping with Dr. Faye. Lane has been beaten by his father with a cane. Roger has lost their biggest account and sent Joan alone to get an abortion. Joan has not gotten an abortion. And Cooper is just there—he doesn’t know anything. So there are six secrets in the room, and when I was writing that scene, the hardest part was forcing the characters to talk about anything. Luckily we had the structure of another dumb meeting. The audience has so much information, and the characters don’t have any.

In addition to writing, I happen to go to a lot of meetings, and I find them hilarious—the rules of order, old business, new business, it’s not just from the Marx Brothers. But you know, every scene is comic to me.

INTERVIEWER

The first time I walked onto the set, I saw a stack of mail sitting on a secretary’s desk. Every single letter was addressed to a character on the show, from a client they have in the show, stamped and postmarked 1965. How do you make it so real, so detailed?

WEINER

Well, I have a bunch of people who delight in re-creating that physical reality. But as for the writing, I don’t make any special effort to write “period.” I try to be realistic, but the characters are smarter and more eloquent than regular people. It’s part of why I have them talk so slowly—or, really, listen so much—because I didn’t want the dialogue to be repetitive and snappy and sound phony. I wanted there to be real things like people saying, What? when they didn’t understand something, and coughing—things like that. The director of the pilot wanted it to look “1950s.” He actually wanted to do it in black and white. Then he wanted it to be spoken faster. But if you speak that fast, you’ll have to keep repeating the information. I did not want to do that. I didn’t even have the characters address each other by name because it felt phony. And after two seasons of the show, Roger Sterling was known as “the white-haired guy.”

One thing we did agree on was that we were looking for a commercial cinematographic style. We were very interested in the ceilings, in the low angles. The cinematographer, director, production designer, and I all shared a point of reference in North by Northwest, which is a story about an advertising man. Even though it’s very stylized and it’s a thriller and it’s Cary Grant, it was made in 1958, a couple years before the pilot took place, and we were influenced photographically by that.

A lot of these things were decided, like so many good decisions, by financial necessity. In the pilot, I wrote an overhead shot of men coming into the Sterling Cooper building, because I knew that was the cheapest angle to make period. Looking straight down, you have the side of the building—and the buildings hadn’t aged much—and you have the tops of people’s hats, which might not require full costumes, and some cars, and you get the sensation of period. When we did the flashbacks, our first glimpse of Dick Whitman’s childhood, I remembered how, in Death of a Salesman, they had staged the flashbacks in the regular sets, and I thought, Why don’t we just put this in Don’s dining room? We’ll stage it in a sort of theatrical limbo.

INTERVIEWER

Often you’ll say, That just doesn’t sound period. And someone will go research it and discover that you’re right. How are you so connected to a period that you experienced only as a small child?

WEINER

I cut out any slang that I didn’t know organically. Even as a kid, you hear certain expressions and then you stop hearing them. I had heard people say, “Make a hash of it.” They don’t say it anymore. Also, I intuitively cast actors who had a certain formality to them. It turned out they were almost all from the Midwest. They have old-fashioned manners.

But you know, these questions of verisimilitude have a lot to do with the framing and the editing. The original director, Alan Taylor, is a huge fan of Wong Kar-wai, and so am I. What Wong Kar-wai does is let scenes develop in front of your eyes. In a conversation, the point-of-view shots will include parts of people’s shoulders and heads. He has a shot design that appreciates the space, puts the people in the space, puts the audience in the space. Music and mise-en-sceÌ€ne are part of it, but the editorial style was most important of all. We don’t use overlapping dialogue. Usually, when you cut a scene between two people talking, you keep cutting to the person who’s listening. It allows you to use material from different performances. It’s also supposed to keep the audience in the scene. But I felt that, since these actors were so good and they pulled off these transitions in front of our eyes, why cut away? So I’d stay with their performance. They would do the entire speech, and then there would be a pause on one side or the other for the other character to respond. That, to me, magically creates a first-person experience, though none of this was intellectual. That’s kind of the way I experience the world. It feels normal to me.

INTERVIEWER

Once you had directed the show, did it change the way you wrote for it?

WEINER

I try now to write every script as if I would have to direct it. I do not leave vagaries of position or gesture. I do not have vagaries about the set. I try to specify who the characters are. It’s a blueprint. I will always give visual clues. I’m not talking about the props only, but a visual motif. People sitting or standing. I will write those things in. Where they are in the room, I write that in the script. You don’t have to do that, and I used to not write that. Betty has a seat in the kitchen. That’s one of my things. Your mom has a place where she sits, if she sits. Directing has made me not write impossible crap like somebody “plops into a chair” or “turns beet red” or “rolls their eyes.” That means that there’s no cheating in the stage directions—“He’s never felt this way before.” “He reminds her of her father.” You can’t write how someone feels, you have to show it in the scene.

The miracle of writing Jon Hamm sitting on the steps at the end of the first season and, as the camera pulled away, seeing his face physically change in a way that . . . It was exhilarating. So much emotion. I’m too embarrassed a person to ever do that job. I don’t know how actors do it.

INTERVIEWER

On the level of the scene, you’re always searching for a surprising way into a moment, or a way that a moment can turn into something you don’t expect.

WEINER

You know that scene in Rebecca when Joan Fontaine is exploring the room where everything is monogrammed “Rebecca,” and George Sanders just appears in the window? It’s a ground-floor room, and he’s sitting in the window. He just slides his leg over the sash and walks into the room. You’re like, That guy could’ve come in through the front door, but I know so much about him because he came in the window. We all love moments like that.

How many people say at the beginning of a story that the character is bored, and they start telling all these things about how he’s bored—he does this, and he goes to his mom’s house, and she’s talking, and he’s staring off, and then you go to his job and it’s the same every day. But actually, it only takes one shot to explain to the audience that the character is bored, and I mean bored with everything in their whole life. They did it on The Sopranos. When Tony was supposed to be laying low, they had a shot of him on the escalator in the mall.

The story is not, We built this great bridge, let’s watch people go across the bridge. The story is, The bridge is out, the bridge is broken, I’m going to try to build one. And then it gets blown up right before I finish it.

INTERVIEWER

Do you read any of the commentary on Mad Men?

WEINER

I stay off the Internet.

INTERVIEWER

Now you do.

WEINER

Yeah, I couldn’t take it. It’s like being on trial for a crime you didn’t commit and having to listen to the testimony with a gag in your mouth. I did learn, though, that what I intended something to mean is not always what it means. That’s okay. It’s actually kind of amazing.

INTERVIEWER

You directed a movie last year. You write plays and poetry. How do you feel about being labeled a “TV writer”?

WEINER

I don’t even understand what that is. That’s going to be a big joke to everyone in ten years because everyone’s going to watch things on the same screen. The movie industry is clinging to its perceived role as the dominant form in the culture, but you know, I was just reading an interview with Stanley Kubrick from the late fifties where he talks about how movies, if they want to have any impact, have to start being more like television, or better. He was talking about the artists in TV at that time—among them, Woody Allen, Larry Gelbart, Neil Simon, Rod Serling, Paddy Chayefsky, Reginald Rose—and the directors who went with them—John Frankenheimer, Sidney Lumet, Delbert Mann. In the next ten years, they all went into the movies. The movies took that business away. But really, the fifties was the golden age of television.

INTERVIEWER

What made the fifties a golden age?

WEINER

Social consciousness and a respect for the audience. This was the same moment as the blacklist, so there was so much subversion. There’s poetry, there’s great speeches, there’s incredible eloquence in those early made-for-TV dramas, but they are derived from real life. There are actors in them who are unattractive. There are recognizable milieus, like automats. Before the 1950s, something like 12 Angry Men wouldn’t have seemed like a promising subject for a Hollywood movie. It had to be a ninety-minute TV show first. But that’s how it goes. Americans are subversive and they depend on their entertainment to express it. So thankfully, all subversive entertainment eventually succeeds.

INTERVIEWER

Do you ever worry about losing your touch?

WEINER

In show business, careers are always seen in terms of hot or cold. Hot and cold doesn’t interest me. That’s dependent on the world. Are you in style or are you not in style? My kids have no Faulkner on their reading list. Thomas Wolfe—completely gone. You never know what’s going to go and what will stay. But on the creative side, you’re either wet or dry. That’s what a writer asks himself. Am I going to dry up? The repetition is the hardest part. You know—you deal with it every day. You witness me trying not to get caught with my pants down doing something I’ve already done. Remember Allan Burns, from my high school graduation? Well, I had lunch with him after my freshman year of college. I asked him, How do you write? He said, My rule is quit when I’m hot. When I’m in the middle of something and it’s good and I know where it’s going to go, that’s where I stop, so when I get back tomorrow I can get back on it. Underneath this was obviously the fear that he could wake up tomorrow and not be able to write. That terrifies me, too.

INTERVIEWER

Do you have other superstitions about your work?

WEINER

I have a pen I use to check off numbers on the outline. I’ve been using that pen since Becker. I will borrow other people’s superstitions. But I’m most superstitious about hubris. I am terrified about having things taken away from me because I finally relax. When I wrote the pilot of Mad Men, I was saying, I’m already successful, why am I not happy? Now it’s become, You didn’t even know what success was. What if your dreams came true?

[aion-rsa]

Supernatural Series Finale: Why Dean’s Fate Works

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This Supernatural article contains MAJOR spoilers for the series finale.

A lot of fans were hoping that Supernatural would end the way its penultimate episode ended, with Sam and Dean literally driving off into the sunset in the Impala, to new and unknown adventures. When it comes time to re-watch the series (a hefty undertaking, considering there are 15 seasons of it!) no doubt many will choose to stop there; the episode even has a series finale-style montage of moments from across its 15 years to go with that classic conclusion.

But Supernatural didn’t end with “Inherit The Earth.” In a show where death was in danger of losing all meaning, it was never really going to be over until we’d seen the Winchesters finally die, for good, we really mean it this time, no take-backsies. Sam and Dean have watched each other die, grieved each other, and brought each other back from the other side so many times that we needed to see them reach their final rest, in a much-improved new Heaven, without demon deals or miraculous resurrections or angel rescues or anything else. When Dean gets Sam to agree not to try to bring him back, there’s an almost palpable sense of relief, as sad as it is. No more deals, no more accidentally ending the world trying to save each other. Just a normal, human death (fighting vampires).

And just as we needed to see the Winchester boys die to really get closure, it had to be Dean who died young, leaving Sam to live out a long and apparently happy life before joining his big brother at last.

There were several reasons it had to be this way. One reason is to honor creator Eric Kripke’s original planned ending for the show without simply replicating it. As many fans know, the series was supposed to end with the season five finale, “Swan Song,” which ended Kripke’s original arc plot, but it was renewed and The Magician‘s Sera Gamble took over as showrunner (followed in later years by first Jeremy Carver, then Andrew Dabb and Robert Singer). In Kripke’s finale, Sam died (he went to the Cage with Lucifer riding his body, along with Adam and Michael) and Dean retired to live a family life with his girlfriend, Lisa, and her son, Ben. Repeating the same ending – Sam dying and Dean trying to move on – would have felt redundant. But reversing it, so Dean dies young and Sam has to move on and start a new life with a wife and son but without his brother? That honors Kripke’s original ending without pointlessly repeating it.

No offense to Kripke, but it has to be said: it makes a lot more sense this way around anyway. Since the very beginning of the series, Sam has been the one trying to escape the hunting life they were raised in and settle down with a family, while Dean has always been a hunter through and through – and hunters don’t usually die in their beds of old age. In the pilot episode, Sam has a girlfriend he loves and a career plan, all of which gets taken away from him when Jessica is killed and Dean comes asking for help. When Dean spent a year in Purgatory, Sam found another girlfriend, Amelia, and a dog, and tried to settle down.

But when Dean spent a year living with Lisa and Ben while Sam was gone, he didn’t adjust too well. He was always on edge, looking out for things to hunt, never quite settled. While he resents Chuck’s dismissal of him as a “killer,” Dean did always get more out of the hunting life than Sam did, taking satisfaction in it as a calling and even enjoying some aspects of life on the road. Dean was his father’s son, and a hunter born and bred; Sam took after their mother a bit more, with more of a yearning to be able to give up that life and rest.

Of course, Sam doesn’t necessarily give up hunting all together, as we see him answer a call for help made to “Dean’s other other phone.” He is also, presumably, married to another hunter. The writers have been carefully setting up Sam and Eileen’s relationship throughout this final season, giving Sam a possible future family. Whether the actress was unavailable, or whether they simply made a choice to focus on just the boys and Bobby (and, randomly, Jenny the vampire) for this finale, the blurry woman in the background while Sam is playing with his son could easily be Eileen, as she seems to be right height with the right hair color, and Eileen is as much a hunter as the Winchesters. So Sam is probably still hunting – but perhaps it forms just a part of his life now, rather than the whole of it. The way he left the bunker and turned out all the lights certainly suggests he’s not living there any more, and perhaps that he’s exploring other things as well.

While Sam was being carefully set up with a future family all season, Dean hasn’t had any really significant relationships outside of Sam, Castiel, and Jack for years. While he was a rampant womanizer in earlier seasons, this was later toned down, and his last romantic interest was Amara – and that was a rather complicated relationship. When Castiel tells Dean “I love you” and sacrifices himself two episodes before the end in “Despair,” it’s left up to viewers to decide whether he means it romantically or platonically – but it’s undeniable that, Sam being his brother and Jack his surrogate son, Castiel is by far the closest thing Dean has had to a love interest in years.

And Castiel is an angel – he belongs in Heaven. It was a bit disappointing not to see him there to greet Dean, considering how big a part of the show Misha Collins has been for eleven years, but Dabb clearly wanted to focus as much as possible on the Winchesters themselves, and avoid taking away from the welcome appearance of Original Bobby. Bobby confirms that Jack brought Castiel back from the Empty and that both of them worked on re-shaping Heaven, so he is around, along with Dean’s parents, Bobby himself – just about everyone Dean loves except Sam. Sam has ties on Earth, people to go to and to care about. Almost Dean’s whole world, except for Sam, is already in Heaven.

Some fans may have been surprised at what took Dean out in the end – a random bit of bad luck during a random mission against some anonymous vamps and a first season character who’s barely remembered (Jenny was turned into a vampire and then escaped the Winchesters in season one’s twentieth episode “Dead Man’s Blood,” in case you were wondering).

But that, too, was the way it had to be. We’ve seen the Winchesters psych themselves up for apparent suicide missions many times, and in several cases they’ve even died. But in the end, as in real life, Dean doesn’t know this is the day he’s going to die when he wakes up in the morning. He’s on a hunt and he just runs out of luck, like so many others before him. And even this was foreshadowed early on. It’s easy to forget that the Winchesters’ first real brush with death came long before Sam stupidly turned his back on a still living enemy and a knife in season two’s “All Hell Breaks Loose,” and before Dean ended up in a coma following a car crash in the same season’s “In My Time Of Dying.”

No, Dean’s first near-death experience came in the first season episode “Faith,” the episode that introduced the Reapers and which was one of the earliest episodes to set the tone and themes for much of the rest of the series – and it’s one of Kripke’s favourites. Most of the episode is dedicated to Sam’s desperate attempts to save Dean from impending death as a result of heart damage due to electrocution, but the actual near-fatal accident happens quickly during a routine hunt in the cold open. The boys are fighting a Rawhead and Dean just gets unlucky. It makes perfect sense, then, that rather than some huge showdown fighting God or Death, in the end, Dean just ran out of luck, just as he had 15 years ago.

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This, then, was how it had to be. Season 15 as a whole has seen appearances from many returning faces, of friends and foes alike, across the season. “Despair” gave Castiel a suitably emotional send-off, tying his fate to Dean’s as it has been since his very first appearance in Season 4. “Inherit The Earth” acknowledged aspects of Kripke’s finale, pitting Michael and Lucifer against each other one last time. But, ultimately, this was the fate the Winchesters have been hurtling towards since Dean dragged Sam away from the college in the very first episode. Dean was always going to die on a hunt, and Sam was always going to have a better chance at building a life for himself. And, now, in whatever far-off future year we left him, there’s still a young Dean Winchester around, and perhaps his dad left him the key to a mysterious old bunker full of strange books and a battered old notebook full of monsters…

The post Supernatural Series Finale: Why Dean’s Fate Works appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[onemoreepitaph]

The Saga of the Swamp Thing and the trouble of writing comic book reviews.

So, I recently finished finished reading The Saga of the Swamp Thing (or as it’s known in more modern terms, Swamp Thing volume 2). As with every comic (and most things) I finish, I want to review it. This poses a problem, as Swamp Thing is 171 issues covered by a massive amount of different staff members with low cohesion beyond canon. Pasko’s Swamp Thing is vastly different from Moore’s from Collin’s from Millar’s and so forth. This makes it difficult to review as one piece even if I can define it with a beginning, middle, and end. I’ve reviewed comics before without problem. Even comics with multiple directions (such as Miracleman) but not on such a massive scale.

Really, the writing isn’t even the thing that makes it hard to review. I can cover disjointed writing. It’s the disjointedness of everything. In visual mediums, I like to review the visual design, and swamp thing has passed through the hands of so many artists that even recalling all of them is incredibly difficult. I can give kudos to Tatjana Wood’s coloring for by far being the most consistent thing in this comic book. So rather than formatting this like I like to on my other blog, I’m going to give this a more messy crazy whirl.

(If you’re here after Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing and just want to know if you should read the rest jump down to the very bottom (past issue 171))

To start off, let me acknowledge that this is a sequel, and should be treated as such. Since the end of the first volume, Alec Holland is Swamp Thing again (this happens in Challengers of the Unknown, but for all intents and purposes treat the last 2 issues of volume 1 as non-canon, life will be better that way.) Swamp Thing finds a peculiar situation, a man trying to kill his daughter whilst declaring her the anti-christ. Swamp Thing saves her, and thus starts on his next great arc. Unlike the individual stories of volume 1, volume 2 is more arc based. This is for better and for worse, the stories have more character, more plot, and more impact, but also this can lead to dragging and near filler. Generally I’d say it’s just alright in the first few arcs, they’re interesting but unmemorable. The story really picks up in issue 16 with a few character reintroductions, and we’re off to the races from there. Swamp Thing is a famous comic book, and for good reason. The next arcs are a work of brilliance, taking the horror hero concept through some truly interesting reconstructions with absolutely brilliant writing and amazing visual design.

While it’s no painting, the cohesion between writing and visuals is near perfect. You can tell the team was skilled and in alignment. The Love and Death arc of this series is both an amazing story, and the arc that broke the comics code. This marked the evolution of swamp thing from the newspaper stand kids’ content to the saga of respectable storytelling we now hold comic books to be (at their best at least). But no gold rush lasts forever, and the other side of the 50 mark the series begins to cool down into an interesting but only somewhat above average niche it slides into by 100. After that, the series gets turbulent in some interesting ways, which each consecutive writer having drastically different visions and some moments that changed the story almost as much as The Anatomy Lesson did. Your mileage on the post-100 side of swamp thing will probably vary a LOT, with different tones both thematically and visually throughout the rest of the series. If you were to show me issue 166 and tell me it’s the same comic as issue 66, I would find it incredibly difficult to believe you (assuming I weren’t accustomed to these massive changes.) I can say however, that the final ending of the series is a true highlight. It pulls from the legacy of the character into quite a unique finale. 

So, here’s the question. Do I recommend Swamp Thing volume 2? Short answer, yes. Long Answer, maybe? It’s status as an un-cohesive story makes it hard to recommend. Most people would recommend issues 21-64, but I’m not sure I agree. I do recommend it from the start, knowing that it will get better. Issue 64 is a great ending, and the only good drop off point until the very end. I can with little doubt recommend up to there. Beyond that is less of a solid go. I firmly believe if you carry on past that point, you will at some point grow distaste with the series. It can be all over the place, and at times I thought to myself “I’d enjoy this story if it were it’s own thing and not Swamp Thing” but I found the experience to be worth it in the end. The transition from 64 to beyond is a bit rough, as 64 feels like a good point to end end the series, but it continues on with a writer who’s clearly not as good as the writer before him. When Nancy A. Collins comes along in the early 100s, she drastically changes the tone, and with Millar starting work on the series it becomes almost unrecognizable as anything before it. I do think, despite all of this, it comes together as one good piece. I think most people will grow to dislike the series at some point, but only temporarily. So if you find yourself at issue 64 and want more, I advise you to carry on, but know it will be a crazy and imperfect experience. 

Rating this series in final is difficult, at any point it was somewhere between a 6 and a 9, but usually floated around 7. Overall I think I’ll give it a 7.5, albeit a very interesting 7.5

So, here’s the gloves off spoilers in section. If you’ve never read any of swamp thing volume 2, I implore you to take your leave here. This is mostly for those who have read Moore’s run. I’m going to do a run by run break down. Martin Pasko’s run (1-19) is fine. I found it enjoyable, mostly towards the very end, and it lays the groundwork for some stuff that will pay off later. Really, throw issue 20 into this as well, as it’s just an ending piece for this run. I think it’s a fine enough lead up to the Moore run, but if it existed in isolation I wouldn’t remember it one bit. I recommend it for first time readers, but if you’ve already read beyond it there’s no real point in going back to it. The Moore run (20-64) explains itself. It’s famous. It’s pretty awesome. I generally liked it, even if I didn’t love it. It’s not my favorite Moore work because I don’t think it builds on itself all that well, but the good parts are damn good and art and prose are excellent. I really feel like the space arc was definitely in the territory of “more neat than interesting” but it was a good read nonetheless. oh god my cat wants attention he’s so adorable aaaaaaaa Everytime i type he paws at me for attention ok he went to go do something else. Okay so, Rick Veitch (65-87). Veitch worked as an artist with Moore, so he and Moore are very much on the same page. Despite Moore closing the book in 64, Veitch reopens it with something that feels consistent. The nearly logical next step, the problem is Veitch is not Moore. Veitch had a shitty job, of following that up. He did it the best he could, but he just wasn’t as skilled. If you want more Swamp Thing, it will give you that, but if you want more ground-breaking comics kino, you’re out of luck. It’s a fine read, but the gap is noticeable. The other problem with Veitch is that due to the issue 88 fiasco, his plot didn’t finish by his own hands. Some people read just Veitch, but his ending isn’t an ending. He was supposed to be followed up by Gaiman (who wrote the excellent annual 5), but the issue 88 fiasco made Gaiman also back out. While this was a pretty damn respectable move on Gaiman’s part, it makes me sad wondering what that run could have been. Doug Wheeler (88-109) came in and finished up the arc and then wrote his own war epic, Quest of the Elementals. While Wheeler is a lot of the times criticized as being the bottom of the barrel for Swamp Thing, I found him to be about on par with Veitch. Interesting, but not remarkable. I do give him credit for having an actual ending to his run, which I suppose could be used as an ending point for the series but it’s clearly an arc ending and not a story ending. Then Nancy A. Collins comes in (110-138). Her Swamp Thing is tonally quite different. It’s a much slower, toned down Swamp Thing. A lot of times people describe it as being closer in tone to the pre-Moore era. I liked how it spent more time developing the supporting cast and actually giving Swamp Thing time to be at home with his family. The run was almost comfy until right after the move to Vertigo, it stopped being so. I don’t know why, but on the way out Collins decided to break the status quo, leaving a really unhappy ending. The early parts of her run were some of my favorite parts of Swamp Thing in awhile, but the ending was just upsetting. This is followed up by a one issue Black Orchid crossover, which is neat I suppose. Then we get to Millar (140-171). He starts out his run working with Grant Morrison in this 4 issue story that’s almost pure insanity. It was interesting, but really was a prologue to Millar’s greater run to come. At first I did not like Millar’s run at all. A fuckload had changed. The art was in this simplified, dynamic style that contrasted abrasively with the prior style. The story had become lonely and quite a dark downer, but it picks up. The first real arc, Parliament of Stones, is the biggest offender of being both a downer and not very good. I think from here, it really starts to improve. It still is pretty dirty and down, but it’s got a bit more humanity to it rather than just being shitty for shitty’s sake. The last stretch, Trial by Fire, was quite fantastic. It makes real good on the size of the Swamp Thing legacy, running this clearly Alan Moore like story, and just keeps pulling brilliance out until it ends on an ultimately upbeat note.I see why Millar’s run is the most recommended past Veitch, but it really is rough getting used to. Ultimately though, it justifies both itself and a lot of the weight that the series has gained.

[placetobenation]

Peter Pan

Release Date: February 5th, 1953

Inspiration: “Peter and Wendy” by J.M. Barrie

Budget: $4 million

Domestic Gross: $87.4 million

Worldwide Gross: $87.4 million

Rotten Tomatoes Score: 80%

IMDB Score: 7.3/10

Storyline (per IMDB): An adaptation of J. M. Barrie’s story about a boy who never grew up. The three children of the Darling family receive a visit from Peter Pan, who takes them to Never Land, where an ongoing war between Peter’s gang of rag-tag runaways and the evil Pirate Captain Hook is taking place.

Pre-Watching Thoughts: We continue on through the 1950s with a film that Disney had originally intended to release as the follow up to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and it would’ve been interesting to see it released at that time and not during this time. That could’ve led to a pretty unique butterfly effect though it never ended up happening and Peter Pan is released now, and this is another film that I had watched a fair number of times though I can safely say that it wasn’t an all-time favorite of mine. It is another film that I have not watched in quite a long time and it will be interesting to see if it manages to hold up compared to the films I have just watched.

Voice Cast: One thing that I have not mentioned in any of these films is they have some actors that stand in as the live-action model for the characters, and the reason I usually don’t mention is because they don’t voice them but they are just as important as anyone else by helping the animators give context to the movements of the characters. But back to those that did provide voices for the characters, we have some returnees here as Bobby Driscoll voices Peter Pan and it was good having a male voice Peter Pan even though on occasion a woman plays the role in the stage play. We also have Kathryn Beaumont return as she voices Wendy Darling in what would end up being her final film role ever, and despite having such a short run she will always be remembered for this role as well as Alice. Bill Thompson also returns here as he voices Mr. Smee in a memorable role while also playing a few of the pirates, and the Mellomen also return to provide the singing voices for the pirates and the Indians during their songs. Finally, we have Heather West return as she voices Mrs. Darling in what would be one of her final roles as well, and it is always interesting seeing the same actors appear in back-to-back films. Now moving onto the newcomers that are here, we have Paul Collins and Tommy Luske voicing John and Michael Darling even though we don’t hear much from either of them which is disappointing since they both do a good job in their roles. Next, we have Hans Conried as the voices of both Captain Hook and Mr. Darling though he is better remembered as Hook, and in a very brief appearance we have Tom Conway provide the opening narration of the film. We have Candy Candido voicing the Indian Chief as he will be a regular for Disney in the future, and then we have June Foray voice Tiger Lily’s mother as well as one of the mermaids along with Connie Hilton, Karen Kester, and Margaret Kelly (who also provides the live-action model of Tinker Bell). It is always cool hearing the returning voices mix in with newcomers and it will be interesting to see when the worm turns and they bring in a different cast for each film, but for now this formula is a good one and helps make things run smoothly.

Hero/Prince: While we have had a few princes show up in the films, we haven’t really had a true hero in a film even though we did have some in the role of a hero. That changes here as we have our first real hero of the Disney canon and that is of course Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up and serves as the protector of Never Land. He brings the Darling children with him to Never Land as he wants Wendy to act as a mother to the Lost Boys, and he is at war with Captain Hook who wants revenge for Peter cutting his hand off and feeding it to the crocodile. Hook eventually kidnaps the Darlings and the Lost Boys while leaving Peter a bomb though Tinker Bell sacrifices herself to save him, and in a final battle Peter sends Hook into the ocean being chased by the crocodile and he brings the Darlings back home before returning to Never Land. Peter is an interesting character in that he is clearly mischievous and is completely against wanting to grow up, but he does clearly care for the Lost Boys and he realizes that the Darlings belong back home which is why he brings them back at the end of the film. It will be interesting to see where he lands amongst the rest of the heroes in the canon, but he is up there as one of the better heroes in the Disney film canon.

Princess: Now unlike Alice in Wonderland where Alice was somewhat considered a princess because she was listed as a princess in the original Kingdom Hearts game, that is not the case here as Wendy Darling will not be included in this category. However, we do have at least one princess and then we have another one that may or may not fall in this category based on one’s criteria of what a princess is. The obvious choice here is the Indian princess Tiger Lily who is kidnapped by Captain Hook as a way to discover Peter Pan’s hideout, and Peter saves her which leads to peace between the Lost Boys and the Indians as Tiger Lily dances with Peter. Sadly, her appearance in the film is fairly brief and we don’t actually hear her speak at all during the film, so she is not so memorable as a princess. The other character we have to mention is Tinker Bell who would become a more fleshed out character in future spinoff films, but she is an important character here as she clearly cares about Peter and is extremely jealous of Wendy. She ends up inadvertently revealing Peter’s hideout to Captain Hook and he leaves a bomb for him, but she sacrifices herself to save Peter though Peter ends up saving her as he reminds her that she is important to him. She would become one of the more iconic characters in history and has become one of Disney’s main mascots, but her status as a princess is a weird one since we don’t see any other fairies in the film. It is left up to us to decide whether Tinker Bell is worthy of being declared a Disney princess, but there is no doubt that she is still one of the most legendary characters in the Disney canon.

Villain: For the third film in a row, we have a memorable villain anchoring the film down and serving as a good foil for our hero, and for this film it is the great Captain Hook who leads his band of pirates into hunting for Peter Pan. He desires revenge for Peter cutting his hand off and feeding it to a crocodile who now stalks Hook constantly, and he does anything to find Peter’s hiding place which includes kidnapping Tiger Lily though Peter ends up saving her. Hook ends up manipulating Tinker Bell into revealing the hideout and he leaves a bomb for Peter while kidnapping the Lost Boys and the Darling children, and Peter ends up surviving the blast and arrives to save everyone while engaging in a final duel with Hook which leads Hook and the pirates being chased out of Never Land by the crocodile. Hook is a very interesting villain in that he is not so much interested in treasure like the rest of the pirates, but rather extracting revenge on Peter even though Peter always seems to be one step ahead of him. Despite this, he still ranks fairly high as one of the more memorable villains in the Disney canon though it will be interesting to see how high he ends up ranking in the end.

Other Characters: For the second straight film, we bounce between two different worlds though we spend far more time in one world than the other as we are in Never Land for the majority of the film and in London for a brief time. As a result, most of the other characters that we have in the film come from Never Land and not from London, even though a few of the major characters live in London. Case in point, we have the Darling family which consists of parents George and Mary, their children Wendy, John, and Michael, and their dog/nursemaid Nana, and we have the dynamic of George being the practical one in the family which clashes with Wendy and her fantasies while the boys follow her as well. When Peter brings the children to Never Land, we first meet Captain Hook’s band of pirates along with his first mate Mr. Smee, and it is interesting as the pirates don’t seem to agree with Hook’s direction though they have no problem following him and Smee is loyal to a fault to Hook. We then meet the Lost Boys who follow Peter and they are in a “friendly” feud with the Indians until they believe the Boys are responsible for Tiger Lily’s disappearance, but after Peter saves her the two tribes make peace. We also have the mermaids that Wendy wants to meet though they cruelly tease her to Peter’s delight, and finally we have the crocodile who constantly stalks Hook after eating his hand though he can’t be conspicuous due to having swallowed an alarm clock as well. While there aren’t as many characters here as there were in Alice in Wonderland, they are still a solid group of characters to fill out the film and advance the plot along.

Songs: Reading up on the film, it is interesting to note in that several different people spent time writing songs for the film throughout the decade and it would’ve been interesting to see how the songs written in the 1940s would’ve turned out here. What we ended up getting were a series of pretty good songs as we start off with “The Second Star to the Right” which is played during the opening credits, and in a fun note this song was originally going to be used for Alice in Wonderland as “Beyond the Laughing Sky”. We then have the centerpiece song “You Can Fly” which is a pretty memorable song to transition to Peter taking the children to Never Land, and that leads into “A Pirate’s Life” which the pirates sing to describe their lives as pirates. The next song featured is “Following the Leader” which the Lost Boys sing as they hunt for Indians, and speaking of the Indians we have their song “What Made the Red Man Red?” which is an interesting song especially by today’s standards. We then have Wendy’s ballad “Your Mother and Mine” which is a sweet song though fairly simple, and finally we have “The Elegant Captain Hook” which the pirates sing as they try to convince the Lost Boys to join them. While the songs are good and work well for this film, there is nothing that totally stands out aside from “You Can Fly” and they probably won’t stack up well against other songs from other films.

Plot: The story of Peter Pan is a pretty simple one which isn’t necessarily a bad thing since sometimes the best stories are simple ones, and one thing I’ve not mentioned yet is the stress of creating a screenplay from an established novel. The plot of the film has Peter arrive at the Darling home as he is drawn to Wendy telling her brothers stories of him and when he learns that she is to leave the nursery, he decides to take her to Never Land to be a “mother” to the Lost Boys. The Darlings go with Peter to Never Land where they meet the Lost Boys, the Indians, and the mermaids while also going to war with Captain Hook and his pirates, and everything comes to a final climax when Peter sends Hook and his pirates out to see before bringing the Darlings back to their home. As I mentioned earlier, sometimes a plot doesn’t have to be overly complicated and the simplest of plots can work real well, and that is the case here as we don’t have a lot going on but there is enough to keep you engaged.

Random Watching Thoughts: A historic moment here as this is the last film distributed by Radio RKO Pictures; We have a title song that actually doesn’t have the name of the film in it for a change; It’s not often that an author gives the copyrights to his work to a hospital, but it was memorable when J.M. Barrie donated the rights to the Hospital for Sick Children in London; I can’t imagine having three directors looking over one film as that seems like an example of “too many cooks in the kitchen”, but they somehow made it work; Where else has this story happened before?; This must be an important party if Mr. Darling can’t show his face in his office again if he doesn’t go to the party; Nana kept her opinions to herself, well obviously because she can’t talk; Nana spent time making the bed only for the boys to mess it up, and she was particular in making sure the blocks were perfectly set up; Mr. Darling just walked right through that stack of blocks without even flinching; Of all the things to use to draw a treasure map on, Michael would use one of his father’s shirts; I get wanting to explain to the children that they have to grow up at some point, but Mr. Darling is going way over the top with this; You can’t blame Mr. Darling as he went through a lot more than Nana did and yet his family care more about Nana than him though again he seemed to overreact in forcing Nana outside; How does one lose their shadow anyway?; Does Peter actually think that rubbing soap on his foot is going to connect his shadow back to him?; It is impressive that Wendy is able to go on this spiel to Peter and seemingly not have to take any breaths; It’s funny how Wendy thinks that she grows up in just a day as opposed to years; The switch flipped big for Tinker Bell when she heard Wendy say she wanted to kiss Peter; Wendy got called ugly by Tinker Bell and yet she still says that she is lovely; Apparently flying isn’t that easy if Peter can’t figure it out right off the bat; That was a lot of dust that Peter knocked off of Tinker Bell to help the Darlings fly; I don’t like how they have Nana barking while the chorus is singing at the same time as it is a bit distracting; Michael just dumps the dust on Nana and expects her to come with them even though Nana is tied up to a tree; I never thought about this, but considering that Peter simply says the second star to the right and the sky is filled with stars, how would you know which specific star is the right one?; In a pretty weird animating faux pas, during the scenes where Peter and the Darlings are flying over London there are a few times in the wide shots that the children don’t have faces; So the star is actually a planet since there is a large body of water there; The pirates don’t seem too keen about following Captain Hook yet they never rise up in mutiny against him; I guarantee you would never hear the word “redskins” in an animated film today; That poor pirate that was singing and not bothering anyone else only for Hook to shoot him dead; Peter’s ideas for pranks are very twisted if cutting off Hook’s hand was considered childish; If the crocodile swallowed an alarm clock, how would they be able to hear it ticking?; How did that seagull not notice Smee shaving off his feathers at first until he put the aftershave on him?; That’s a powerful telescope if he can make them out in the clouds so clearly; Never once did the Lost Boys question Tinker Bell what a “Wendy Bird” was; That was a quick rescue by Peter after being shot at by the pirates not a few minutes earlier; They were quick to throw Tinker Bell under the bus though she didn’t care that Wendy would’ve died; It was interesting that Peter made John the leader despite having just met him and the Lost Boys didn’t know him at all; That bear was ready to attack until he saw Michael’s teddy bear and he got completely confused; The Indians’ disguises aren’t too good if someone like Michael can easily see through them; So the one Indian wears John’s hat and uses his umbrella to shade himself while another drags the teddy bear behind him on a rope, and then they tie the bear up to a stake much like they do to the Boys; If the feud between the Lost Boys and the Indians is just a game to them, why would the chief immediately think they captured Tiger Lily?; Those mermaids are pretty racy having only seashells or even their own hair covering their breasts, very controversial for an animated film; Wendy was so keen on meeting the mermaids only for them to constantly tease her by splashing her constantly, and she calls on Peter for help only for Peter to laugh about it; If the crocodile is ticking right behind them, how does Hook not realize that?; He was able to lift Tiger Lily up pretty easily even though she had an anchor tied to her; Poor Smee must’ve been going crazy in hearing different orders about what to do with Tiger Lily; Why would Smee attempt to shoot at Peter knowing that he could just fly away?; It’s amazing that Peter has such a small sword and can stand toe-to-toe with Hook who has a much bigger sword; Smee wants to save Hook but is clearly moving way too fast and can’t collect his thoughts while Hook is trying to avoid being eaten completely; Peter better be glad that Wendy reminded him about Tiger Lily or she would’ve drowned in the tide; Obviously Smee was not the best speller as he spelled disturb as “disterb”; It’s funny how Smee thinks Hook agrees with him even though Hook is on a completely different wavelength from him; As interesting as this scene is with the Indians teaching their culture to the Lost Boys and the Darlings, it is something that you would never see today as well; That’s not a very flattering image of mothers-in-law; For all of his faults, Hook can be very manipulative as he is able to convince Tinker Bell to reveal Peter’s hideout to him because of her jealousy of Wendy; Wendy starting to sound like her father in trying to practical; First Michael thinks Wendy is his mother and not his sister, and then he mistakes Nana for his mother; It is something that you don’t really think about, but the Lost Boys had to have come from somewhere else before being taken to Never Land; It is funny seeing the pirates get all emotional as Wendy sings about mothers; I love how Wendy immediately assumes that their parents will welcome the Lost Boys into their family; Hook says that he gave his word not to lay a finger or hook on Peter, so instead he sets up a bomb to kill him; The Lost Boys are very impressionable as first they wanted to be Indians, then they were wanting to leave with the Darlings, and then they wanted to join the pirates after hearing their song; He sets the timer to go off at exactly 6:00 though it ends up taking quite a few seconds to actually detonate; How big was that bomb in the package that it in essence sent shockwaves to the ship?; Are the pirates that superstitious when Wendy doesn’t land in the water, they think that they are being haunted?; Michael is somehow able to lift up a cannonball and put it in his teddy bear, yet he has trouble dragging it with him briefly; Hook and the pirates are in a dogfight with Peter and the Lost Boys, yet meanwhile Smee is preparing to make an exit to save his own hide; You can tell this is an animated film because Hook is somehow able to walk away from getting hit right in the head with that cannon; Coincidental that all the pirates happen to fall into the same lifeboat that Smee was taking; Hook convinces Peter not to fly during their fight and thinks he has the advantage only for Peter to get the better of him again; So the clock the crocodile swallowed managed to stay intact when Hook pulled it out with him and then throwing it back into the crocodile; Mr. Darling was so adamant about Wendy growing up earlier and now he has changed his mind after the party, and then when he sees the ship flying it triggers memories of his own childhood.

Overall Thoughts: Overall, the film ended up being a pretty good film though it wasn’t quite as good as I had remembered which was a bit disappointing given that this was a favorite of mine growing up. As I mentioned, it wasn’t an all-time favorite of mine but it was one that I always enjoyed watching when I was little, and I was hoping that it would hold up a lot better than it ended up being. Again, that’s not to say that it was a bad film because it wasn’t and it was still pretty enjoyable, and you could tell that this was one that Disney had a lot of love for given that he had wanted to do this film since the 1930s. The 1950s have been a really good decade thus far for Disney as the films were doing well and he was about to embark on possibly his most ambitious project to date, and we will see if that project has an impact on the quality of the films coming up. As for this film, it is a good film though not quite a classic as it is remembered and it will probably rank in about the middle of the Disney film canon.

Final Grade: 6.5/10

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

At First Sight

Characters: Y/N Collins, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Richard Speight Jr, Rob Benedict, Briana Buckmaster, Jeffrey Dean Morgan       

Pairing: AU Jensen x Reader (sorta), Misha x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Innocent(ish) state of undressed, flustered baby Jensen - yes that’s a warning!  

Word Count: 2100ish

A/N: This can 100 % be read as a one shot but it is thought off as part of my College!Jensen AU.

It is also written for for @deansleather 31 Days of Halloween SPN Writing Challenge and my prompt was moonlight.

Thanks to the sweet amazing @blacktithe7 for betaing this one for me.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

OUR COLLEGE YEARS

Jensen smiled as he felt the cool autumn air on his skin. It wasn’t cold by any means, but summer was ending. The leaves were changing color, and the heat was no longer unbearable. Jensen had always loved this time of year. There was something magical about the many colors and the way the setting sun made everything seem almost as if it was covered in gold. The world was full of promise and changes, especially this year. It was Jensen’s first year of college, and he was already loving every moment of it already.

He had gotten a full ride as a pitcher at Texas Tech. He loved that he didn’t have to ask his parents for much. Not that they would mind. He liked feeling independent and not having to lean on them too much. That was the same reason he had gotten himself a job, so he could pay for his on campus apartment. Between baseball, school, homework, and work Jensen found himself pretty busy most of the time, but he loved any minute of it.

On a whim, when work had cancelled on him, Jensen had gotten in his car. He drove without really having a destination in mind at first, until he found himself near where Misha had told him he shared a house with a few buddies.

Jensen had met Misha on the field, where he was running around like a headless chicken, trying to collect his notes from an interview with coach Morgan. While a lot of the other players had laughed at him, Jensen had walked over to help him out. As quirky as the young school newspaper journalist seemed, the friendship had been more or less instant. Misha was kindhearted and talkative. Jensen had never really cared much about social hierarchies, so it hadn’t mattered to him that most of the other baseball players felt themselves to be above the slightly odd young rapporter. Jensen liked him, which seemed to be reciprocated, though Jensen was sure there weren’t that many people Misha wouldn’t see the best in.

Misha had come and hung out at the field, chatting with Jensen before or after his training. They had spent evenings at Jensen’s apartment, laughing and talking about everything from movies and music to future plans. They were fast becoming best friends, but since Misha lived in a shared house with some friends off campus, Jensen had never actually been to his place.

A smile spread across Jensen’s face as he pulled up infront of the rather random colored house. The garden was overgrown, and still there was a certain beauty to the chaos. The sounds of a guitar playing and voices singing filled the night air, streaming from the open windows of the house as Jensen made his way to the front door. This place practically screamed Misha, and Jensen loved it already.

He knocked a few times, but no one answered, and judging by the uninterrupted song playing inside the house, no one was really paying attention either. Jensen shook his head, pushing the door open with a grin, and stepped inside. He couldn’t help the grin forming on his face as he looked around the place. It was as randomly decorated as it's outside coloring had been. It was easy to tell that free spirited college students lived here.

Jensen took a deep breath before bravely venturing further into the warm welcoming chaos of Misha's home in search for his friend. He decided following the music would be the best cause of action right now, so that was what he did.

The sounds of guitars and voices singing lead him to the living room where two guys were sprawled out on the couch, each with a guitar in their hands. Both appeared to be smaller in stature than either Jensen or Misha. One of the men had longish blonde locks while the other had messy short dark hair. He was the one singing in a loud clear voice.

Jensen stopped for a few minutes, letting them finish their song, not only to be respectful but also because he was in awe of the talent displayed before him. When the song finished, Jensen clapped with a huge smile on his face, making the two men turn to face him.

“We take donations if you are that impressed.” The long haired guy sent Jensen a grin only to receive a solid kick from his friend.

Jensen laughed, shaking his head at the pair, instantly deciding he liked them. “Sorry man. Starving college student. I don't have much to spare,” Jensen laughed, and the guy shrugged.

“Well I tried. I’m Rich and that's Rob over there.” The man reached his hand over the back of the couch, and Jensen shook it, introducing himself.

“Well Jensen, what can we do for you?” Rob asked, and Jensen couldn’t help but smile. He loved how not bothered they seemed to be with a stranger stumbling into their home.

“I’m a friend of Misha's,” Jensen started to explain, but before he could get any further, Rich tilted his head back, bellowing towards the kitchen where Jensen only now spotted a beautiful blonde young woman cooking.

“Bri! Any idea where Collins is?”

“Out back,” she yelled back without even turning around, and Jensen stifled a chuckle. The friendships in this group appeared to be strong, and somehow, they still managed to make Jensen feel right at home with no effort.

“Through there,” Rob pointed to a glass door before the two men went back to their jamming session, and the house filled with the sounds of their guitars and voices once more.

Jensen nodded, leaving their company  a little reluctantly. He silently hoped for a chance to join in one day before turning around and heading out onto the porch.

Jensen hadn’t realized how late it was getting, or even that the sun had set completely. He breathed in the fresh air, taking in the view. The Autumn moon sparkled dimly on the velvet clear fall sky. The moonlight covered the many colored world with a pale light.

Jensen’s eyes fell on a shape in the lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, making her skin and hair almost appear to have a silver glow. He couldn’t move as he watched her naked form glide through the water. She was absolutely breathtaking and rendered Jensen motionless. He had no idea how long he had been staring at her before she looked up, locking eyes with him. For a split second, she looked surprised before sending him a warm smile that made his skin tingle.

“You wanna join me?” she offered, and Jensen could practically feel his cheeks flush bright red. His eyes shot to the ground, and he shifted on his feet, desperately trying to adjust himself. He could only hope the jeans he was wearing helped him keep his secret from the goddess in the water.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen muttered, before he twirled around, almost running into the glass door in an effort to get away from the situation. He felt like a complete idiot. He should have talked to her. Said something. Anything.

“Smooth Ackles,” he scolded himself as he made it inside, her bell like laughter still sounding through his ears.

Jensen ran his hand over his face, trying to compose himself. He had never felt that drawn to a girl before, and he was 90% sure it wasn’t just her state of undressed. It was her smile, the sound of her laughter, the soft serene look in her eyes. There was something wild yet soft about her. There had been such a grace in the way she moved; it had taken every ounce of strength he had to tear his eyes from her. Jensen had been completely enchanted by her, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to shake the feeling anytime soon.

“I need a drink,” Jensen muttered to himself, and he finally managed to get his legs moving again, hurrying into the now thankfully empty kitchen. It smelled amazing in there as the lasagna backed away in the oven, but Jensen didn’t pay much attention as he headed straight for the fridge. With a house full of college students, it didn’t take him long to locate a beer and press it to his lips.

“Making yourself at home huh?” Misha’s mischievous voice sounded behind him, causing Jensen to spin around to face his friend who just laughed at him.

“Relax man. You look like you saw a ghost. What’s mine is yours,” Misha threw out his arms, grinning widely had him. “I am glad you decided to stop by finally.”

“Work got cancelled,” Jensen explained, his thoughts still elsewhere, lingering with the stunning mermaid her had encountered in the lake. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah just got in. I was working late at the newspaper. You’re missed hits is not the only thing I cover you know,” Misha teased, making Jensen pull a face at him.

“It’s called a strikeout you asshat,” Jensen countered, making Misha chuckle, but Jensen was no longer paying attention. The young woman from the lake had appeared in the doorway behind Misha, and Jensen’s jaw almost hit the floor. She was a sight to behold; still dripping wet and only with a towel wrapped around her perfect body. It clung to her curves, and Jensen couldn’t help but stare at her openly.

Misha, who must have noticed his shift in attention, frowned and turned around to face the woman. A smile spread across his face, not that Jensen noticed. His body and mind completely failed him as he stood there with his mouth slightly open, staring at the girl, who pretended not to notice.

“Tell me you didn’t cook Mish,” she teased, causing Misha to pull a face at her.

“I didn’t smartass. I think Bri did,” Misha answered as he elbowed Jensen in the side, bringing him back to life.

“Sorry what?” Jensen blinked, pulling his eyes from the girl to look at Misha, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Quit staring at my sister dude!” he grinned, and Jensen felt his cheeks instantly flush bright red.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” the girl giggled, and Jensen’s mind once again seemed to fail him. He just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

“I think I broke your friend Mish,” the girl laughed. “I’m Y/N by the way,” she smiled at Jensen, reaching out her hand.

“Y/N…” Jensen spoke, taking her hand, causing her to giggle again, and Jensen wanted to kick himself. He wasn’t usually this awkward around girls, but there was something about her that completely took his breath away.

“Jensen. My name is Jensen,” he quickly corrected himself, and she smiled brightly at him, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“You should stay for dinner Jensen,” she offered, before turning around, sending Misha a smile before she left. “I’ll be in my room. Tell Bri to holler when food is ready.”

Jensen kept staring, watching how her hips swayed as she moved. He could have sworn she put on a show for him as she walked away, pulling her hair to the side, exposing one of her shoulders before disappearing up the stairs.

Jensen let out a sharp breath, completely forgetting he wasn’t alone in the room, and Misha bursted out laughing.

“I love you buddy, but let’s not be too literal about the what’s mine is your comment I made earlier huh?” Misha teased, and Jensen’s gaze fell to the floor as he shifted on his feet.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as Misha kept laughing, clearly not too upset his new best friend was clearly  developing a crush on his little sister. Not that Misha would ever say it out loud, but he honestly couldn’t think of a better match for Y/N then Jensen, even if he turned into a stuttering mess around her. Y/N seemed to like him, and if something was to happen between the two of them, Misha wouldn’t get in their way. Actually, on the other hand, he might give them a small push. Not that his sister needed one, but judging by how Jensen acted, he might. Misha grinned as he watched his friend awkwardly sip on his beer, and he started to plot ways he could get the two of them alone together without scaring Jensen for life.

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