#i’m sure there are more wonderful megs that i’ve encountered in this life

[pollenallergie]

people named Meg are always just… so fucking cool. Megs out there, I love y’all. I think you’re the best. I think you’re so cool. I want you to know that.

[avintagekiss24]

The Mansion Maid > Ransom Drysdale

PAIRING; Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 3,503

WARNINGS; dub-con, mutual masturbation, hand job, vaginal fingering, Ransom being an asshole, swearing

REQUEST; Meg’s best friend from college needs a job, so she ends up being one of Harlan’s new maids and Ransom takes an interest in her. Face claim Kat Graham.

NOTE; Please heed the warnings, guys. You are responsible for what you consume. I’ve done my part, please do yours. Ransom is a douche in this one, but, what else is new! Hope you enjoy :)

“Meg, seriously, thank you so much.” You say as you hug her tightly, “This means so much.”

She scoffs, “Don’t worry about it. Granddad has always loved having pretty, young girls around the house. He’s the one that should be thanking me.” She laughs. 

You smile and stare up at the old, beautiful mansion sprawled out before you. You blink slowly as Meg pulls your bags from the car, chatting all the while, but you don’t really hear anything she says. You’ve never seen a house like this - in the movies, yeah - but never in real life. You couldn’t even really quantify just how rich Meg’s family was until this moment as you stand in the driveway. The Thrombey family is filthy, stinkin’ rich.

“Uh, hello? You still with me?” Meg laughs as she slams the door to her Audi. 

You cover your face with your hands, giggling a little as you shake your head, “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

She loops her arm within yours and pulls you into her side, “Don’t be. We don’t bite, promise.”

She starts to pull you towards the front door, passing by an older model BMW. You scrunch your face a little as you pass by it, the age of it taking you by surprise. It looks to be in good shape - sparkling a little in the sunlight - not that you know anything about cars to be honest. Maybe it’s the old mans’, you think to yourself as you take the two steps onto the porch before following Meg into the lavish home.

“Granddad! Marta! We’re here!”

“Will you keep your voice down? Jesus.” A deep voice sounds from the study to your left, causing you both to snap your heads towards it. 

Meg scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as a tall, dark haired man emerges from the room. Your lips part a little as he moves right up to the two of you, completely invading your personal space. You glance up at him as he towers over you but immediately avert your eyes when you find his intense gaze already on you. You swallow harder than usual, shrinking into yourself a bit, as you feel his eyes roam up and down your body.  

“Fuck off Ransom. Where’s granddad?”

He shrugs, backing up to lean against the door frame. You glance back up at him just as he pops a small, round cookie into his mouth and chews it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. 

He nods in your direction before skipping his eyes over to Meg’s quickly, “Who’s this?”

“None of your business. Where are Marta and granddad?” She asks again, more stern this time.

“Did you not see me shrug? I don’t fuckin’ know, he’s out with the help I’m sure.”

“Her name is Marta, you prick.” Meg rolls her eyes again and grabs you by the arm, pulling you up the stairs, “You’re such an asshole.”

“I asked you a question, Megan. I expect an answer.” 

You stop at the sound of his voice. You watch as Megan turns slightly and leans against the banister.

“And I answered you, dickwad.” He continues to stare at her, popping another cookie into his mouth. She relents, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “This is my friend from school. She’s gonna be helping around here for the summer for some cash. I didn’t know I had to get your approval as well, you know, since you don’t live here.”

He chuckles as he chews and slides his eyes over to you once again. You swallow hard as he looks you over slowly, taking his time with taking you in, “More help, huh? You speak English?”

Meg groans loudly, grabbing your arm again, “Don’t pay him any mind. Come on.” 

Ransom. You jog up the stairs behind Meg, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder. He stares at you as you move, smirking slightly as he pops yet another cookie into his mouth. He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers at you before pushing away from the door frame to disappear back into the study. 

You follow Meg into her room and close the door behind you before plopping down on the bed beside her, “Who was that?”

She rolls her eyes deeply again, waving you off, “Don’t worry about it, he’s a fucking tool.”

“Who is it? Your brother or?”

“Oh, God no. He’s my cousin. My aunt Linda’s son.”

“Oh,” you answer, not able to get those blue eyes out of your mind, “What um, what does he do?”

She laughs a little as she stands and starts unpacking her bag, “You mean besides being the resident asshole? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. He’s a spoiled ass brat, who lives off my aunt Linda and granddad.”

You nod slowly, “So, he lives here, then?” You swallow again, not really sure if you could deal with this feeling all day, every day for three and a half months. 

Meg picks up on your uneasiness and stops moving around the room. She walks over to you and takes your hand in hers, a bright smile on her face, “Do not let him scare you off. He lives like a half hour away. He comes over long enough to beg for money and then he fucks off again.”

You let out a breath and smile back at her, “Okay. Sorry, he’s just kinda… I don’t know.”

She kisses your cheek and goes back to her dresser, “For the third time, he’s an asshole. Don’t let him intimidate you, okay? You just wait until you meet granddad. He’s going to love you and between him and I, we won’t let Ransom pick on you.”

You nod your head quickly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. You take another breath and push it out quickly before you flash another wide smile, “Cool.”

--------

A few weeks have passed and they’ve been a blur, but you’re settling in quite nicely. Harlan is a delightful old man; funny and smart - and still as sharp as a tack. Marta and Fran are both kind and warm, taking you under their collective wing and showing you the ropes of the routines that flow through the mansion. You’ve met most of the family by now, each one just as opposite as the other, leaving you to wonder how they’ve all existed this long without killing each other. You like them all though, each for a different reason, except for Adolf Jr. aka Jacob, who’s questioned your citizenship more than once because “you look too exotic to be American”, and of course - 

“Ransom,” You sigh loudly as he shoulder checks you in the hallway, knocking you back a few steps, “Jesus.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He says, cutting his eyes back towards you, “You call me Hugh. Only my family calls me Ransom.”

You flip him off and roll your eyes as you continue down the hallway in the opposite direction, mumbling a fuck you under your breath. You head up the stairs with a pile of sheets and an assortment of cleaning supplies in your hands and move into the Harlan’s bedroom. You toss the supplies on the bed, before retreating to the hallway closet to fetch some fresh towels. You move back into the room and shut the door behind you before shoving your airpods into your ears, letting Doja Cat distract you as you start to strip the bed. 

You hum as you move around the large mattress, tossing the used sheets to the floor as you sway to and fro to Say So.Your thoughts soon turn back to the brief encounter you had with Hugh just minutes before. Prick. He’s gone out of his way to make you down right uncomfortable since the moment you stepped foot in the house. 

He stops by just to fuck with you it seems. He’ll suck down those disgusting cookies and throw the empty bag to the floor, because he knows you have to pick it up. He’ll knock magazines off the coffee table, track mud through the kitchen, leave random plates and drinking glasses all over the house - only to lean against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, with that stupid smirk on his face as you pick up after him.

That’s another thing he likes to do - watch you. You feel his slimy gaze on you for hours out of each day, just following you around as you move throughout the house. At first it bothered you, but now? You just glare back at him and scrunch your face in disgust before you carry on with your work. Harlan, and recently Walt, have chewed his ass a few times for messing with you. You’re not intimidated anymore, you’ve got back up. 

His gaze has seemed to change over the past few days though. It’s less I’m watching you to make sure you don’t steal anything, to I’m watching you just to watch you - like you’re his prey. You’ve caught him staring at your legs on the days you’ve opted to wear shorts. You narrow your eyes at him as he ogles you, but he doesn’t care. He just keeps right on staring at your long limbs, his breaths deep and steady, sometimes dragging his tongue across his bottom lip or even sinking his teeth into it.

The family has a weekly Sunday dinner, which you’ve been happily invited to each time. It’s a chance for you to wind down, actually be a person around them and not just another one of the staff. At the last one, just a few nights ago, you were exhausted. Meg had you out on the town until after dawn before letting you have only a few hours of sleep before she pulled you off to another adventure. For dinner, you slipped into a tank top, a loose, thin zip up hoodie, and pajama shorts. Your hair was loose, falling into your face as Richard went on and on about politics. Your hoodie kept slipping off of your shoulder, exposing your skin and cleavage. 

You shifted in your seat, swiping at the hair in your face before you randomly threw your eyes at Ransom quickly. You had to do a double take. You squinted at him in disgust as you caught his wandering gaze on your chest, like he was transfixed - hypnotized by the slit of your breasts. He cut his eyes up to yours seconds later and cocked his head in defiance as the two of you stared at each other. You lifted your hand and extended your middle finger again, drawing a quick, low chuckle out of him before he dipped his eyes back to your cleavage. You rolled your eyes and zipped your hoodie all the way up before letting out a huff and focusing back on Richard. 

You had trouble sleeping that night. There was a battle brewing inside of you. You couldn’t stand him, but something in you, dare you say, liked having his attention. Whenever you caught his eyes on you, you’d get all warm - tingly. Sure, you’d flip him off and rush off in a huff but sooner or later, a sly smile would spread on your lips. You liked teasing this disgusting man. It felt… good - but of course, that is what bothered you. You shouldn’t be flustered or flattered by his behavior, you should be outraged, but yet you never say a word to anyone. 

A piece of you likes the fact that you are the one thing that he can’t buy and maybe, that’s why you enjoy this little game so much. He’s a bastard, but he’s a rich bastard who can have whatever his selfish ass wants - except for you. That’s your little contribution to the working class people, denying a rich asshole an unearned pleasure.

You finish making the bed and move into the bathroom where you squirt a healthy amount of Windex onto the large mirror. You wipe it away and move to the sink and counter, then the shower, and finally the toilet. You flush it once you’re finished and stand, wiping your forehead with the back of your gloved hand. You let out a breath and turn to exit, but scream when you’re surprised by someone in the doorway.

“Fuck, Ransom!” You scream as you clutch your chest, slamming your eyes shut. 

He laughs before tilting his head, “Hugh.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back at him, pulling the gloves off your hands and tossing them into the trash before you push past him aggressively.

You grab the pile of dirty sheets from the floor and turn to leave the room when he stops you, grabbing you by your arm. You shrug out of his grasp roughly as your eyes bounce back and forth wildly between his.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks calmly. 

You rip your airpods out of our ears and shove them into your pocket, “I’m working, okay? I don’t have time for this.”

He chuckles again as his eyes wander around your face and then dip down to your chest, “You’re a little fuckin’ cock tease, aren’t you?”

You scoff and try to move around him but he grabs your arm again and whips you around his body, “What the fuck is your problem? Huh?” You shout, dropping the sheets back to the floor, “Why do you have to fuck with me all the time?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have a problem.”

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?” You ask angrily, your eyes squinted as your chest starts to heave, “I don’t bother you one bit.”

“Oh, you bother me,” He starts slowly, “Like I said, you’re a cock tease baby.”

He takes a step towards you, and then another until he’s towering over you. You stare up at him, your chest bumping into his as you breathe deeply. You keep your jaw tight as he lifts his finger and drops it on your chin. You swallow hard as he starts to drag it down your neck and to your chest. Your lips part as you stare up at him. You blink furiously as his finger slips down to your breasts. 

You snap to your senses within seconds and slap his hand away, but his quick reflexes have you caught in his arms before you know it. You squirm in his grasp, desperately trying to free yourself but with each pull and tug, he seems to grasp you tighter and tighter. You push on his chest with your small hands as you plead for him to let you go.  He drops a hand to your jeans and pulls at the button to pop it open. He unzips them quickly and before you can stop him, he shoves his hand into your panties. 

You tense as you feel the flesh of his fingers against the flesh of your sex. Your eyes go wide as you ball his tattered, white sweater in your hands as his fingers push through your folds to tease your slit. You watch him as he watches you, his eyes searching yours as his lips part. He smirks at you after a moment or two passes, and then chuckles again. 

“Fighting turns you on?” He asks softly, noting the wetness that covers his fingers, “Me too baby girl.”

You grab his wrist with both of your hands and pull his hand from your body but your strength is no match for his. He shoves his large hand back into the front of your jeans, his fingers pushing through your lips, circling your clit before pressing against it. You tense at the pressure. Your eyes flutter as a flash of arousal ripples through you. You tighten your grip on his sweater as your heart beats against your chest. 

He rubs your clit in slow circles at  first, but then quickens them out of nowhere. It starts to feel good - it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this. You widen your stance, allowing him a little more access to your cunt. Your hips start to roll against his fingers as your throat goes dry. You bite down into your bottom lip as you pump your hips forward, small moans and whimpers falling from your lips. You feel his eyes on you as he fingers you - feel his warm breath on your face. 

You gasp suddenly as he thrusts two fingers into your cunt without so much of a warning. You wrap your fingers around his biceps, squeezing them tightly as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you. Your moans grow louder as he gets rougher, slamming his fingers into you with force as his palm caresses your swollen, tingly clit. 

“Fuck, Ransom,” you hiss as you rock your hips into his palm.

“Hugh,” he says gruffly.

“Hugh,” you breathe, your voice shaking with each thrust of his fingers, “Hugh, Hugh, Hugh.” You repeat in ecstasy. 

“That’s right baby,” he groans, grabbing a handful of your left breast with his free hand, “Say my name girl.”

You throw your head back as you continue to push your hips forward, “Oh, Hugh. Yes.”

You let your head roll forward again as you drop your hands to his pants. You fumble with the button, and then the zipper, but soon push your hands into the front of his boxers to grab his cock. He hisses at the contact and the warmth of your hands, and his fingers falter for just a second. You start to stroke him, teasing his slick slit with the tips of your fingers before you slide them back down his shaft. 

You stand mere inches from each other, fucking one another with your hands while Harlan and Marta are just a few rooms away. You can feel your climax building as Hugh pushes his free hand up into your shirt. He pulls your breast free of your bra and starts to play with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers before he pulls and tweaks it, arousing you further. 

You pump him hard and fast, feeling the warm dribbles of precum on your fingers. Your hips thrash against his hand, desperate for a release. Shivers begin to run up and down your spine as your body begins to jerk and tense. The small grunts and moans from Ransom only add to your arousal and soon, you are overcome with your orgasm. 

Ransom has to clasp his hand over your mouth as you cum around his fingers. You shriek into his palm as the waves of your climax wash over you, each crash stronger than the last. You bite down on the palm over your mouth as your hips continue to work against his other hand and fingers. 

Ransom soon follows at the sight of you cumming before him. You feel the warmth of his spunk in your hand and on your fingers as he spurts over and over again. You hum as you continue to work your hand up and down his throbbing, jumping shaft. In an act of quick weakness, he rests his forehead to yours as his body works through his own release. The two of you stand there, chests heaving, breaths heavy as you recover from your devious deed. 

He pulls his hand out of your pants, leaving you empty and slightly sore. You remove your hands from his cock and take a step back. You watch as he lifts his pruney fingers to his mouth before he licks them clean, humming lightly as your tangy juices excite his taste buds. 

“That cunt might be my new favorite snack.” He offers, before sucking on his digits again. You watch as he moves away from you and heads for the door, “Clean yourself up and get back to work, maid.” He says gruffly again, cutting his eyes back at you.

“Yes Hugh.” You say sweetly, offering a small smile. 

He rewards you with a smile of his own, “Good girl.” He opens the door and takes a step before turning back to you again, “You’re here until when again?”

“End of August.”

He raises his eyebrows as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Lovely. I’ll be back for you.”

“Will you now?” You ask seductively, tilting your head.

He smiles again, “You’re mine now. I take what’s mine.

He slams the door behind him. 

You move into the bathroom and wash your hands slowly, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of your face. You redo your short ponytail and wipe at your forehead with your wet finger tips, ridding your skin of the small beads of sweat. You button and zip your jeans before smoothing your hands down the front of your shirt. You shove your airpods back into your ears as Saweetie fills your head. You move back into the room and collect the dirty sheets in your hands again before getting back to work.

This job ain’t so bad.

[shotgun--rider]

Daylight

 A Dean x Reader oneshot

Dean finds a letter addressed to him from Y/N, and finds a lot more in her honest words than he was expecting. 

Word count: 4100

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, extraordinarily fluffy smut, Dean panics a lot

*Female reader, she/her pronouns used in Dean’s POV

A/N: This wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is, and boy is it aggressively sweeter and softer than intended.

Dean tears open drawers with panicked abandon, hearing the crashing sounds of Sam doing the same to the other side of Y/N’s bedroom. There’s no time to worry about sending her research notes flying, about the haphazard pile of her underwear when he dumps her drawers on the floor. It has to be here. It has to be. 

“Dean, there’s nothing here!”

A glance over his shoulder shows Sammy’s eyes wide with the same terror that’s eating up his chest, her room looking like the aftermath of a hurricane and nothing to show for it.

“Damn it, keep looking!”

The image of Y/N doubled over the bathroom sink, choking up blood, is burned into his brain, and the knowledge that Cas is staying with her is the only thing keeping him here, instead of at her side. 

“Who the hell even got in here with a hex bag?” Sam demands, one of his arms snaking under the mattress desperately. 

“I don’t know, okay? We’ll figure it out later. After we save Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing.” Sam’s hands fly up to his hair for a moment, turning a slow circle as his eyes rake the bedroom for anything they haven’t been through yet. “Dean, there’s nothing here.”

“There has to be,” Dean retorts shortly, running his hand along the upper shelf of the closet. He flat-out refuses to consider any other option in front of Sam, but his brain isn’t getting the message. It’s entirely too easy to picture her sprawled out on the tile of the bunker bathroom, blood staining her mouth with her E/C eyes staring up at nothing. And it’s not like he’s lacking in material for inspiration, having seen her in all manner of near-dead positions on hunts before, giving him a heart attack every damn time. 

But Cas has always been there to heal her, to brush his fingers against her forehead and melt away every life-threatening wound. And this time is infinitely more terrifying, because even an angel can’t just undo witches’ spells. Dean swallows hard, turning to attack the bedside table even though Sam had already dumped out the little drawer. 

“Dean!”

Dean’s head snaps up, almost tripping over himself trying to get to the doorway. “Cas? Cas, is she--”

The angel is suddenly in front of him, holding the familiar looking small brown bag. “It was in the library,” he says simply, catching it on fire with a simple flick of his hand.  His hand lands on Dean’s shoulder, then, smiling with a gentle look in his blue eyes. “She’s fine, Dean.”

Relief first, and then the familiar ache of guilt. There wouldn’t have ever been anyone coming for her if he hadn’t been the one to let her start hunting in the first place. Wordlessly, he throws his best attempt at a smile in Cas’s direction, turning back into Y/N’s bedroom. 

“Go check on her,” he tells Sam roughly, an unidentifiable catch in his throat. Y/N certainly doesn’t need him hovering around at the end of a mess he hadn’t even managed to fix. “I’m gonna clean up.”

Sam stares at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re gonna...clean up?” he echoes. 

“What?” Dean shrugs, trying his best for an air of nonchalance. 

Sam just shakes his head, apparently giving up on his brother’s weirdness and following Cas back in the direction of the bunker’s bathroom. 

Dean clears his throat roughly, in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump that seems stuck there, and sighs. The bedroom is a complete mess, and, truthfully, cleaning it is the last thing he's interested in. Still, in the moment, it feels like a safer option than facing Y/N, so he bends forward, gathering up some of the scattered papers he’d knocked out of the closet. 

There’s a sheet of notebook paper on top of the haphazard stack when he taps it against the edge of the desk, trying to get them in some semblance of order. It’s folded in half, off-center, and would have been completely unobtrusive but for the scrawl of his name on the front, in her familiar handwriting. 

Dean pauses, setting the stack down on the desk and lifting the sheet slowly, glancing once over his shoulder out of habit before unfolding it. His face scrunches up in surprised confusion almost immediately, smoothing out into something that matches the gut-punch feeling in his chest as he continues reading. 

Dean,

I know you don’t want to hear this, but I needed to get it out of my head and put it down somewhere. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you, anyway. It’s not like you’re going to read this. 

You break my heart, Dean Winchester. (I can hear you laughing, telling me to stop being dramatic. “It’s not a chick flick, Y/N.” Shut up.) You are strong and kind and selfless in so many ways, and you put yourself last to save everybody else and you always find some way to take the blame. But it’s not your fault, Dean. It’s not. You’re good enough, as you are, and the fact that you can’t see you the way we do breaks my heart. 

Everyone around you loves you so much, Dean--me, Sam, Cas, you’ve even grown on Meg. And you don’t have to save the world. I know experience would beg to differ, but I promise, you don’t. Not at your own expense and not by yourself, and it’s okay if the only person you can save right now is you. 

It’s okay to choose yourself. It’s okay to want someone else to choose you. And I promise you that you won’t hurt them, Dean. Seriously. You won’t. 

I hope you find something that makes you happy. And I hope I get to be there to see it. 

Love,

Y/N

Further down, the writing is  slanted and rushed, a desperate addition, an afterthought, maybe a prayer. 

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

Let it go, Dean. There’s still daylight here, let it go. 

----

You’re in the kitchen when Dean walks in, in search of a sandwich and trying in vain to fend off Cas. “There you are,” you smile brightly at him. “I thought my closet might have swallowed you. Sam said you were cleaning up, I don’t know what possessed you to even try--” You cut yourself off, annoyance creeping onto your features as you reach up to knock Cas’s fingers away from your forehead for what has to be the fourth or fifth time. “Cas, I’m fine. But I am hungry. So move,”

The angel fixes you with a concerned look in his blue eyes. “I just want to be sure--”

“Cas,” you stare hard at him, unblinking. “Go do some research or something before you drive me crazy,” 

He leaves in a flutter of wings with an expression of mixed confusion and frustration as he vanishes, and you sigh, calling a half-sarcastic, “I love you!” to the empty room before turning your attention to Dean. 

“So, to be clear, the closet did not eat you,”

Dean’s mouth twists like he’s trying to smile but it’s gotten stuck somewhere. “Nah,” he says, his voice an octave lower than you were expecting. “Are you okay?”

You shrug, letting out a quiet victory squeak when you finally find where someone has jammed the loaf of bread, all the way in the back of the fridge. “Cas burned the hex bag, I’m good.” And to you, that’s all it is. You’ve been hunting for years; a little hex bag encounter is far from the worst that’s happened to you. And once you caught your breath and wiped the blood off of your lips, it was done. 

“I wonder if there’s a hidden health benefit to puking blood,” you muse absently, debating between mayo and mustard. “Like, they say crying is actually good for your skin, so…” 

Dean is staring at you with a pained expression, and you trail off, blinking at him. “What’s up with you?”

“You almost died, Y/N,” his voice still sounds rougher than usual. 

“Yeah.” You smile at him in a way that you hope is reassuring. “Kinda. But I didn’t. This is a typical Tuesday for us, Dean, what are you...” You let the question hang in the air, unfinished, as you study his face. “Oh, and don’t go thinking it’s somehow your fault. I know you,”

“Yeah, I...kinda got that,”

“What?” 

Dean’s hand reaches into the pocket of his jeans (which, incidentally, do amazing things for his ass) and then he’s pulling out a folded up piece of lined notebook paper and oh. Oh, damn.

His tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip nervously, and you have to make an effort not to watch like a hypnotized creep, and then he flashes you that smile that he sometimes tries on the diner waitresses. The one that says I’m trying to be confident but I’m actually awkward as all hell right now. “It, uh, had my name on it,” he says after a beat, offering it to you like he thinks you’re going to want it back.

Well, it was always for him anyway. Even if part of you wanted to shrivel up and die in embarrassment now that you knew he knew. “You can keep it, Dean. It’s for you.”

He sets it down on the table anyway, leaning one hip next to it and blinking like a deer in the headlights. “Y/N, I--”

You clear your throat. “I hope it wasn’t too awful. I don’t really remember what I wrote.” That’s kind of a lie, especially when it comes to the later two additions, but oh well. 

“No, it-it was good,” Dean’s hand twitches like he’s about to reach toward you, and he curls it into a fist instead. “When did you…”

The question trails off but you know what he’s asking. Blowing out a breath, you abandon your half-made sandwich and reach for the paper on the table instead, unfolding it and sliding closer to Dean. “I wrote this the night after the case at Sonny’s,” you tell him quietly. “I was so damn mad---you were a kid, Dean, you didn’t--” you shake your head, refocusing your thoughts. “I had all these thoughts running around my head and I knew I was going to end up screaming them all at you in the middle of the library one day if I didn’t put them somewhere. I didn’t ever expect you to actually read it.”

 You suck in a breath of surprise as Dean moves to stand behind you, one arm sliding around your waist. It’s entirely unexpected and sends a shiver at the contact running though your entire body, but somehow it feels natural. It’s as if some barrier between the two of you has broken with this letter, and you can’t find it in yourself to mind. By the time his chin finds its way to the top of your head, peeking down at the letter with you, you’ve relaxed into his hold, the solid warmth of him at your back. 

You tap the sheet of paper with one short fingernail, over the words you’d scrawled on repeat, echoing the prayer in your head. Hold on. “That’s from when we were looking for you. Demon you.” You can joke about it now, sort of, so you smirk, wishing you could see his face. “Your little summer of love with Crowley?”

Dean huffs petulantly and tightens his arms around you, and you can picture his pink lips turning into a pout. “It was not,”

“Uh huh, whatever you say,” 

Dean stays silent for a moment, absorbing the information and continuing to hang onto you, and then poses one last question. “What’s the daylight thing from?”

That one’s never going to be funny, and you exhale. “The Mark, after Charlie...you wouldn’t talk to any of us and I just wanted you to know it wasn’t all darkness, you know?”

Dean shudders on a breath behind you, and suddenly you need to see his face. He lets you turn around in his arms, now with the kitchen table against your back, and some bolder part of you slides your hands up to link behind his neck. His green eyes are shining with not-quite-tears as he looks at you, biting off words before he can start speaking. Finally, he settles on familiar ground. Teasing. “So I break your heart, huh?”

You smirk back at him. “Only when you’re stupid.”

He pouts, adorably, and you resist the urge to kiss it off of his face. “When you don’t accept that you deserve good things,” you clarify, leaning closer because Dean is like a goddamn magnet and what are you doing. “That’s just not correct.” The words are spoken a hair’s breadth from his lips, your breath ghosting over them, and Dean closes the gap a heartbeat later.

It’s a hesitant press of his lips on yours, feeling you out like he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be welcome here, and it still feels like being lit up on fire. You’re fully aware that five seconds of kissing this man has turned you into a goddamned cliche, but as you push up on your toes to kiss him back harder, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Your enthusiasm is all the encouragement Dean needs, and you squeak against his lips as his hands find your hips to boost you up onto the tabletop, parting your legs for him to stand between them as his hand comes back up to tangle into your hair. His other slides up your thigh, thumb grazing over the inside seam of your jeans, and you shiver in spite of yourself. 

Finally breaking away to breathe, Dean moves down to press open mouthed kisses in a trail down your neck, pulling a gasp out of you. “Dean,” you murmur, your fingers raking through his short hair. “Dean,”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The words are more a vibration against your skin than anything spoken aloud.

“I don’t--mmmh--want to be having sex on the counter when your brother walks in,”

Dean pulls back to look at you, all messy hair and blown pupils, and even though it’s what you wanted, you can’t help but already miss his touch. “Good point,” he rasps out, and before you have any time to react, slides his hands under your thighs to lift you off of the table and into his arms 

“Don’t drop me,” you manage, your ankles locking automatically around his back and your hands tight on his shoulders. “Please,”

Dean chuckles, low, and catches your mouth in a messy kiss that leaves you breathless. “Wouldn’t dare,”

Somehow, you both make it to the door with the gold 11 on it without running into any walls or any of the bunker’s other occupants, which is no small miracle, all things considered. Dean wrestles the door open with his other hand still supporting your weight, dropping you onto the mattress with a hungry look that says he’s going to claim every inch of you. 

You reach your hands out to him impatiently, wanting him closer, wanting to touch. You’re certainly not complaining about the view, but you’ve been looking at him for years. An annoyed noise comes out of your throat when he doesn’t immediately comply, instead smiling down at you with an expression that’s no less passionate, but somehow more gentle than a few moments before. 

Dean comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand tracing an aimless path up your ankle and calf, apparently ignoring the sizeable bulge in his own jeans. “Shh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you to sit up and peels you out of your clothes almost reverently, discarding them across his bedroom floor until you’re left in just the plain underwear you’d put on that morning, and you can hear his breath catch when he looks at you. 

Every other guy you’d ever slept with got both of you naked like it was a speed competition, treating the whole thing as purely physical. Which you supposed it was, given that every other guy you’d slept with had been briefly vetted over the course of a few beers and then picked up out of whatever bar you were in that night. Hunter-style hookups. No strings attached.

But Dean is looking at you like you’re something otherworldly, and while you’re not sure you deserve it, it brings a warm feeling to your chest that has nothing to do with the sensation of him licking his way over your breasts and down to the line of your underwear. He pauses there, his fingertips sliding just under the waistband, and looks up at you with those reverent green eyes for permission. 

“Dean, just hurry up,” you tell him, impatience running through your voice. You’re already flushed and panting, probably looking like a complete wreck spread out over his sheets, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

Then suddenly his tongue is licking a stripe directly over your cunt without any warning and an involuntary cry escapes you at the sensation. So much for not scarring anyone else in the bunker, you think wryly, and then all rational thought flees your brain as Dean slides a finger inside you, busying his tongue with rapid little flicks over your clit. “Oh god, Dean, fuck,” 

Your hand flies down to clutch at his head as he slides a second finger in to join the first, just enough sense left to remind yourself not to mindlessly suffocate him against your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming and still somehow not enough, keeping you right on the edge without sending you over, and underneath it all there’s still an undercurrent of gentleness that takes your breath away in a whole other way. “I can’t--please, I--” you pant out, no longer sure if you’re even making sense. 

Dean hums softly, the vibration running through you, and your hips buck up involuntarily in search of more friction. His mouth moves to suck your clit between his lips, his fingers curling inside you at the same time, and you fly apart with a shout, your head falling back and your entire body tensing through what has to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Not that you’re going to tell him that.

“Jesus, Dean,” you breathe out when you can see straight again. “Just...Jesus.” 

Dean chuckles softly, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness, and he seems perfectly content in spite of narrowly surviving being squeezed to death between your thighs. A few more of your brain cells come back online, and suddenly you’re staring at him in puzzlement. “Why are you still dressed?”

He takes that as his cue to climb off of the bed and strip, and all of those damn layers end up making it a teasing show for you even if that wasn’t his goal. Dean shrugs out of the flannel first, then strips off the shirt underneath and unbuckles his belt. By the time he’s left standing in just his boxers, you’re unashamedly two seconds from drooling and he’s painfully too far away from you. 

Dean drops the boxers before coming back to kneel over you, his cock rock hard against his stomach. You’d never thought about a man’s junk as “beautiful” before, but it’s the word that comes to mind as you reach out to wrap your hand around him, thumb swiping over the tip and watching him shudder in response. Instead of letting you continue, though, he pulls your hand away, lacing his fingers in both of yours and resting your linked hands above your head as he leans forward to kiss you. 

It’s sweet, unexpected but perfect, and when he finally slides inside you, leaving you both gasping at the feeling, it seems dangerously close to making love. Dean gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him filling you up, only moving after your hips have rocked up into him, urging him on. 

Somehow you’d thought that being carried through the bunker, all tangled tongues and occasionally teeth, had set the stage for something wild. Or maybe that was just you projecting your assumptions of what Dean would be like in bed. And you had no doubt he could be, but this was...soft. Slow, no matter how much you tried to urge him faster, and you lost yourself in the slide of his cock, the rhythm of his body against you, the feeling of his hands holding onto yours.

He was watching you with an expression that was half lust and half love, the slow roll of his hips hitting just right inside you, and a low groan rips out of his throat when you tighten your walls around him. “Come for me, baby,”

Dean releases one of your hands to slip between your bodies, his thumb flicking over your clit in time with a sharper snap of his hips, and it shatters you. The slow build has you flying apart screaming, clinging to Dean like he’s the only thing left holding you together as your orgasm breaks over you in waves. 

He follows you over the edge a few moments later, falling forward to press his lips to yours with an expression of pure, blissed-out pleasure on his face. For a while, neither of you move, lost in the moment and not quite capable of higher brain function. 

Eventually, Dean pulls back to look at you with a goofy grin on his lips, pulling a startled laugh out of you at the expression, and you clean up and rearrange yourselves smiling like a pair of fools, which, you suppose, you kind of are. 

Afterward, you lay curled into Dean’s side, legs tangled together and your hand resting over his heart and his anti-possession tattoo while his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. He’s the first one to break the silence, tilting his head to look at you with warm green eyes. He’s close enough that you could probably count the freckles dashed across his face, but he’s distracting you with words instead. “You make me happy,” he says, voice low, and you’re suddenly reminded of the last wish you wrote in that letter.

“Good,” you say stoutly, warmth ballooning in your chest at the words. Dean already looks awkward and slightly red at the little confession, though, and you’re not going to drag more emotions out of him. You lean up briefly, planting a quick little peck on his lips, and snuggle back down against him, just existing in your own little world for a brief, precious moment. 

----

Dean wakes up alone. Instinctive panic is choking him as he scrambles up, his still half-asleep mind wondering automatically if she’s safe, if something has gotten to her. 

Closer inspection of his bedroom floor would have shown him that wherever she was, she was wandering around without any of her clothes, and thus probably hadn’t gotten that far, but Dean doesn’t bother thinking that through. He shoves his legs into a pair of sweats that are slung over the back of the desk chair, almost falling flat in his rush, and bursts out into the hallway. 

His green eyes are wild and his hair is still styled with the aftermath of sex and sleep, and Sam’s startled reaction to seeing him tear his way into the war room shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

“Morning,” Sam says dryly, looking over his brother from head to toe. “Dean--what?”

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dean gets out through the panic that’s suddenly thick in his chest. 

“She’s outside,” Sam gestures up the bunker stairs to the door, shrugging in a way that suggests that all of this is completely casual. “Dude, what--”

Dean’s already gone, up the bunker stairs and out the door still shirtless and barefoot, and there she is. All of the knots in his stomach are washed away in an instant, looking at her on the bunker’s concrete front step. She’s safe. She’s okay. 

She’s just wearing his flannel, the material drowning her hands and falling to her thighs, and she’s barefoot too. She turns at the sound of him opening the door, coffee mug in hand, and her eyes light up when they land on him. “Look, Dean,” she says with a sunny smile, and he can breathe again. Y/N tilts her head to the sky, hair stirring in the breeze against her borrowed flannel collar, and she’s looking at the peach and purple sunrise painting the sky when she speaks. “Daylight.”

He’s looking at her. 

[absolutelyladywhistledown]

Guess who’s back? Hello and welcome to another edition of The Society Papers! I’m your host, Lady Whistledown, and it’s time to update you lovely readers on the happenings in our little community. We’ll be serving our own special blend of tea today. Won’t you sit down and grab a cup while it’s hot? Try the crumpets or a biscuit. They’re guaranteed to be a wonderful accompaniment with the flavor we’ve got today!

First things first. All hail the Prince! A source has mentioned Prince Jack Benjamin has disclosed some wild information, quite the scandal, I’ll say! It appears the young man was feeling quite frivolous before he left and had a little too much fun in the sexual healing type of way. Not only did he have a final goodbye in a horizontal way with his husband Clay, it seems the Prince had a liaison with his ex husband, Ransom Drysdale, and a tryst with his lawyer, Andy Barber. Could it be young Jack wanted to give each of these men something to remember him by? Whatever the reasoning behind it, it’s still very scandalous and we can’t wait to see just how this will play out when the Prince returns. The anonymous source also says Jack might be reaching out to his lawyer. Could another amorous entanglement be in their future? Stay tuned, my friends. This tea is as hot as it gets!

On the topic of reemergence, the self proclaimed God of Gymnastics, Lance Tucker, stepped out of the shadows and called out Ransom Drysdale. Apparently, he’s been keeping better tabs on things than my sources, as he was quick to point out the dilliance between the playboy and the Prince. Do we sense jealousy? Or maybe Mr. Tucker was ready to show Mr. Drysdale how to handle being cocky? Whichever it is, we’ll keep an eye on the situation and update you on any developments. I can almost smell the scent of freshly soiled linen. Make sure to leave the help a nice tip, Hugh.

Our final mentions are a bit skewed and cause me to take pause. I like a good challenge and love to bring all the gossip this community has to offer. When called out by Lucifer, I let that slide. The poor devil really needed that push since he wasn’t gaining any traction. A man of that caliber needed the attention and we were happy to oblige his request. This week, we have been called out by someone, or maybe we should say, something, that clearly needs some attention. Don’t worry, Meg Masters. We see you. There’s no need to have us draw attention to you. It appears you do that all on your own, putting yourself in some very ridiculous situations. So, if it a recap you’re looking for, here goes. Try not to take offense. I’ve heard even demons have feelings too.

In case you weren’t paying attention, poor Andy Barber found himself the victim of a vampire bite while on a walk with his friend Meg Masters. Luckily, the demon was able to save his life and he walked away from the encounter without a scratch. Meg has rid us of the threat and all that’s left is a little trauma for the lawyer. You’d think he’d be a little more careful of the company he keeps. Trouble continues to find our attractive lawyer and it gives us all the feels. Misery loves company so let’s pray for some positivity and happiness for Andy. God knows he could use it.

That’s all the tea I have for you this week. Be it shame or slander, seduction or smear, there is but one thing that humbles even the most highly regarded members of our dear town; a scandal.

Dear reader, if there ever is a scandal, I shall uncover it! Until next time.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

@absolutelyjackbenjamin

@absolutelyclayappuzzo

@absolutelyransomdrysdale

@absolutelyandybarber

@absolutelylancetucker

@absolutelylucifer-morningstar

@absolutelymegmasters

[theredherb]

The Red Herb’s Top 10 Games of 2020

Hey, fuck 2020. You might notice that many of the “Best Of” lists you read this year and last can’t help but mention how terrible 2020 was. That’s because every day was like hitting a new, splinter riddled branch on our 365 day plummet off a shit-coated tree. The year brought with it a viral pandemic that served as a pressure cooker for the societal and systemic issues boiling beneath the surface of our every day life. And we’re not out of it. 

At least one positive holds true of 2020: the games were pretty darn good. One has to wonder, though, if 2020 was the last year of what can be called “normalcy” for the video game industry. Now that the remainder of titles brewed in pre-Covid times are out in the wild, what will the future of gaming look like as studios shift to work-from-home and distribution models migrate to digital as the primary bread winner? What will games look like going forward?

I have no fucking clue. We’ll get there when we get there. But looking back, I’m glad to have had such solid distractions from the stress and strife. If 2020 is any indicator for the industry going forward, then my takeaway is that games will continue to grow in prominence because of their ability to help us cope and, more importantly, stay connected.

Anyway, here’s video games:

10. MARVEL’S AVENGERS

Oh, Marvel’s Avengers. I know you expected to be on more prestigious Top 10 lists than mine. Truthfully, I debated whether or not you should be here. But I had to search my soul (stone) on this one. Really assemble my feelings. Tony Stark my thoughts (?). Here’s the short of it: Marvel’s Avengers has a great story campaign with a surprising amount of emotional weight thanks largely to Kamala Khan’s quest to reassemble the heroes of her youth. Once the final cutscene ends, though, players were expected to take their play box of Marvel heroes, jump online, and duke it out against hordes of villains for the privilege of precious loot and level gains. It would be impossible to get bored because Crystal Dynamics was going to continually Bifrost in new quests, cosmetics, and heroes -- for free!

Except, after fans blasted through the campaign (took me a solid weekend), they found a multiplayer mode filled with repetitive fights against non-descript A.I.M Bots, a handful of dull, un-Marvelous environments (the PNW?! In a video game?! Wowwee!), and a grind for gear that became useless minutes after it was equipped. Oh, and bugs. Tons of bugs. It must be hard for A.I.M. to take earth’s mightiest heroes seriously when they’re falling through the fucking earth every other mission.

So why the Kevin Accolade™? Of all the mistakes and underbaked ideas, Crystal Dynamics got the most important thing right: they made me feel like I was a part of the Avengers. Cutting through the sky as Iron Man; dive bombing, fists-first as the Hulk; firing gadgets at cronies as Black Widow; cracking a row of skulls with Cap’s shield… Avengers is a brawler on super soldier serum.

The combat is crunchy and addictive, and surprisingly deep once you unlock your character’s full suite of skills and buffs. The gear matters little. But choosing a loadout that works for you -- like ensuring enemy takedowns grant you a health orb every time or turning area clearing attacks to focused beams of hurt -- does matter. When it comes to games with disastrous launches, Avengers is the most deserving of a triumphant comeback story because, if you clear the wreckage, I think there’s a solid game here. If I was able to spend hours playing it in its roughshod state, I can see myself digging in for the long-term once it’s polished up and given a healthy dose of content. You know...if Square Enix doesn’t outright abandon it.

9. STREETS OF RAGE 4

Here’s a fact about me: I love beat ‘em ups. From Final Fight to X-Men to The Simpsons, I prioritized my quarters for the beat ‘em up machines (and House of the Dead simply because House of the Dead fuckin’ owns). Unfortunately, Streets of Rage wasn’t in arcades, and I didn’t own a Genesis growing up, so I didn’t get around to the series until Sega re-released as part of a collection. Though my history with the 29 year old brawler is shorter than some, the basics stand out out right away: it’s an awesome side-scrolling brawler filled with zany character designs and high octane boss fights.

SoR4 nails that simple spirit while adding an electric soundtrack, buttery smooth animations, and an art style that looks like a comic book in motion. You can button-mash your way through the game or master your timing to combo stun the shit out of bad guys. Same screen co-op is a requisite for the beat ‘em up genre but I have to call it out nonetheless given that it's next to obsolete these days. The story campaign is, of course, finite but a stream of unlockables and a Boss Rush Mode pad out the package nicely.

I really don’t have to go on and on. I’m on board with any game that captures the arcadey high of classic beat ‘em ups, and Streets of Rage 4 does it with flare.

8. RESIDENT EVIL 3 REMAKE

Resident Evil 2’s remake was my game of the year in 2019. It’s a pitch perfect revision that captures the pulse-pounding fear of the original while beautifully updating its graphics and gameplay for modern audiences. The most striking aspect of RE2’s remake is how it expands and reconfigures the classic game’s environments and set pieces. Capcom managed to recontextualize, and even improve on, the original’s design while staying faithful to its tone and atmosphere.

Resident Evil 3’s remake is less successful in modifying and improving on its source material. If the game feels like it was handled by a different team than RE2R, your gamer hands have good eyes (roll with it). It was developed by a separate internal team (three different teams, in fact), but that’s actually one of many choices mirroring its 1999 forebear. Just like the original, RE3R is a tighter (i.e. shorter) experience that launched less than a year after its predecessor. And just like the original, the game skirts away from survival horror in favor of action horror.

Unlike last year’s remake, however, RE3R paints in broad strokes with the original material much in the same way that 2004’s Dawn of the Dead remake shared a vague resemblance with Romero’s ‘79 classic. Capcom at least nails down what matters: you play as Jill Valentine, beaten and discredited after the Arklay Mountains incident, during her last escape from the zombie besieged Raccoon City. Her exit is complicated by Nemesis, a humanoid missile that relentlessly pursues her from minute two of the game. Her only chance of making it out alive is by teaming up with a gaggle of Umbrella dispatched mercenaries, including an overly handsome fellow named Carlos Oliveras that you control for a spell. But fans struggled to get over what Capcom didn’t remake. Several enemies, boss fights, and a “divergent path” mechanic that had you choose how best to escape the Nemesis in a pinch were omitted from the remake. Even an entire section set in a clock tower was cut. But, let’s be honest, the biggest omission is a secret ending where Barry Burton saves the day using only his beard. For real, YouTube that shit.

If you look at what the remake does instead of what it doesn’t, you’ll find a lightning paced action game highlighted by tense, one-on-one fights against the constantly mutating Nemesis. The tyrant’s grotesque transformations evoke the mind-rending, gut turning creature designs found in John Carpenter's The Thing. It’s sad that Nemesis doesn’t pursue you through the levels as diligently as he did in the original, or as Mr. X had in last year’s remake, but these “arena fights” end up being harrowing and fun, culminating in a memorable final encounter. The remake also treats us to the best incarnation of Jill to date. She’s a cynical badass, exasperated at how Umbrella upended her life, and can take a plunge off of a building yet still muster enough energy to call Nemesis a bitch. RE3R also shines thanks to its snappy combat, including a contextual dodge that feels rewarding to pull off, less bullet-sponge enemies than RE2, and an assortment of weapons to get you through Jill’s Very Bad Night(s). It makes for a necessary, though shorter, companion to last year’s stellar remake.

7. HADES

I’m experiencing a new type of shame including a title that I haven’t beaten on my Top 10 list, but I can assure you that I’ve dumped hours into its addictive death loop. It’s probably because of my resistance to looking up any tips, but given the skill-check nature of the difficult boss fights, I’m almost afraid the top shelf advice will amount to “die less, idiot.”

My failings aside, Hades is brilliant. It’s the perfect merger of gameplay and storytelling. You play as Zagreus, son of Hades, and your entire goal is to escape your father’s underworld domain. You pick from a selection of weapons, like a huge broadsword or spear, and attempt your “run,” seeing how far you can make it before an undead denizen cuts you down. It’s familiar roguelike territory, but where Supergiant separates their game from the pack is in the unique feeling of constant progression, even as you fail. With each run, not only is Zagreus earning a currency (gems or keys) that unlock new skills that make the next go a little easier, you’re also consistently treated to new lore. The fallen gods and heroes that line your father’s hall greet you after each death and provide a new insight into their world. The writing is bouncy and hilarious, the voice acting ethereal and alluring, and the character designs could make a lake thirsty.

Supergiant’s stylistic leanings are at their peak here. They’ve managed the impossible feat of making failure feel like advancement. Sure, it totally fucks up other roguelikes for me, but that’s okay. None of those games have Meg.

6. DEMON’S SOULS

Whereas Capcom takes liberties with their remakes, Bluepoint took the Gus Van Sant approach and made a 1:1 recreation of the 2009 title that launched the “Soulslike” genre. The dividing difference is a 2020 facelift brought to us by way of the PlayStation 5’s next-gen horsepower. There’s been online arguments (surprise) regarding the loss of Fromsoftware’s visual aesthetic in translating the PS3 original in order to achieve a newfound photorealism. It’s true, some beasties lose their surreal weirdness -- a consequence of revisiting designs without the worry of graphical or time constraints -- but the game’s world is still engrossing, morbid, and bleakly gorgeous.

That’s not to say all Bluepoint did was overhaul the graphics and shove this remake out the door. No, their improvements are nuanced, under-the-hood changes that gently push the genre into the next-generation. For one, the loading times are incredible. You could hop between all five archstones in under a minute if you wanted. And this game is a best DualSense controller showcase outside of Astro’s Playroom. You can feel a demonstrable difference between hitting your sword against a wall compared to connecting it with an attacking creature. Likewise, the controller rumbles menacingly as to let you know enemies are stomping across a catwalk above you. “Better rumbles” was not on my wish list of next-gen features, but the tactile feedback goes great lengths to make you feel like you’re there.

Granted, sticking so closely to the original means its pratfalls are also carried over to the next-gen. The trek between bonfire checkpoints is an eternity compared to the game’s successors, and Fromsoftware hadn’t quite mastered the sword ballet of boss fights prevalent in Dark Souls. Instead, a handful of bosses feel more like set pieces where you’re searching for the “trick” to end it versus having to learn attack patterns and counters. Still, it’s easy to see the design blueprint that bore a whole new genre. From having to memorize enemy placements to hunting down the world’s arcane secrets in the hopes of finding a new item that pushes the odds in your favor. Bluepoint’s quality of life improvements only make it kinder (not easier) to plunge into the game, obsess over its idiosyncrasies, and begin to master every inch of it. That is until you roll into New Game+ and the game shoves a Moonlight Greatsword up your ass.

5. YAKUZA: LIKE A DRAGON

Here’s a fact about me I’m sure you don’t know: I love beat ‘em ups. Streets of Rage 4 had an easy time making it on this list because it can be classified as both a “beat ‘em up” and “good.” Here’s another fact about me: I’m not the biggest fan of JRPGs. I’m told this is not because of any personal preferences I harbor, but rather due to a distinct lack of culture. I’ve made peace with that. At least my uncultured ways are distinctive.

But my disinterest in JRPGs is notable here because it illustrates how very good Like A Dragon is. Transitioning the Yakuza series from a reactive brawler (entrenched in an open-world SIM) to a full-blown turned-based RPG was risky -- especially 8 entries into the mainline series -- but it pays off explosively for Like A Dragon. Not only does the goofiness, melodrama, and kinetic energy translate to an RPG -- it’s improved by it. Beyond a new protagonist -- the instantly likable and infinitely affable Ichiban Kasuga -- we’re finally treated to an ensemble cast that travels with you, interacts with you, and grows with you. Their independent stories weave into Ichi’s wonderfully and end up mattering just as much as his.

The combat doesn’t lose any of its punch now that you���re taking turns. In fact, it feels wilder than ever and still demands situational awareness as your enemies shift around the environment, forcing you to quickly pick which move will do the most damage and turn the fight in your favor. RGG purposefully made Ichi obsessed with Dragon Quest (yes, specifically Dragon Quest) as an excuse to go ham and morph enemies into outlandish fiends that would populate Ichi’s favorite series. It’s a fun meta that never loses its charm.

This is the best first step into a new genre I’ve ever seen an established franchise make and I hope like hell they keep with it for future outings -- and that Ichi returns to keep playing hero. There’s plenty of callbacks and treats for longtime fans, but RGG did a masterful job rolling out the virtual carpet for a whole new generation of Yakuza fanatics.

4. GHOST OF TSUSHIMA

Sucker Punch’s dive into 13th century Japan doesn’t redefine the open-world genre. But like Horizon: Zero Dawn before it, Ghost of Tsushima takes familiar components of the genre and uses them exceptionally well, creating an airtight experience that can’t help but stand out. I can tell Sucker Punch mused on games like Assassin’s Creed and Breath of the Wild, tried to figure out what makes those games tick, and then brought their own spin to those concepts. You can feel it in their obsession to make traversal through the environment as unobtrusive as possible, letting the wind literally guide you to your destinations instead of forcing the player to glue their eyes to a mini-map. You can feel it in how seamless it is to scale a rooftop before silently dropping on a patrol, blade first. You can feel it in the smoothness behind the combat as your sword clashes against the enemy’s. Every discrete part is fine-tuned yet perfectly complements the whole. The game is silk in your hands. 

The mainline story can be humdrum, though. It mirrors the beats of a superhero origin story, which isn’t surprising when you account for the three Infamous titles and satellite spinoffs under Sucker Punch’s belt. But Jin Sakai’s personal journey outshines the cookie-cutter plot. His gradual turn from the strict samurai code to a morally ambiguous vigilante lifestyle (to becoming, eventually, a myth) is a fascinating exploration in shifting worldviews. This is bolstered by the well-written side-missions dotting your quest, some of which play out in chains. It’s these diversions about melancholy warriors and villagers adjusting to life under invasion that end up being the essential storytelling within the game. Whatever you do, don’t skip a single one.

Before GoT can overstay its welcome with collectible hunting and stat-tree building, the ride is over. If you find exhaustive open-world titles, well, exhausting, Sucker Punch coded enough of a campaign to sticking the landing and not more. But if you were looking for more, the game’s co-op Legends mode is the surprise encore of the year. It strikes its own tone, with vibrant, trippy designs, and a progression system that embarrasses other AAA titles in the space (I mean Avengers. I’m talking about Avengers).

3. THE LAST OF US PART II

The Last of Us is widely regarded as a masterpiece. It’s a melancholic trek through a realistic post-apocalypse, driven by the budding bond between a world-weary survivor and a would-be teenage savior. The fungal zombies and violent shootouts with scavengers were scary and exciting, but ultimately just window-dressing compared to the level of complicated, and honest, human emotion on display throughout the tale. While a segment of detractors helpfully pointed out that The Last of Us’ story isn’t unique when compared to years of post-apocalyptic books, comics, and movies, that argument seems to forget that a narrative more concerned with the human protagonists’ connections to one another instead of saving the world or feeding into a hero complex is pretty unique for games -- especially a high profile, AAA budgeted game.

Still, fans made heroes out of Joel and Ellie because of their own connection to their journey. And that connection is almost instantly challenged in the opening hours of The Last of Us Part II to heartbreaking effect. But I’m here to tell you that any other sequel would have been dishonest to the legacy of the original game. To be given a hero’s quest as a continuation, an imagined sequel where Joel and Ellie do battle against the viral infection that’s swept the earth, would have been a despicable cash-in. It would have been a mistake to follow-up the original’s careful examination of human nature just to placate an audience that seems to have missed the point Naughty Dog made. The Last of Us Part II hurts. But it has to or else it wouldn’t have been worth making. It’s a slow-burn meditation on the harmful ripples revenge creates, how suffering begets suffering, and how, if we don’t break the cycles of violence we commit to, suffering will come for us.

To drive this point, we’re given two distinct perspectives during the meaty (and somewhat overlong) campaign, split between Ellie Williams, the wronged party seeking revenge, and Abby Anderson, an ex-Firefly whose actions set the sequel into motion. The greatest trick Naughty Dog pulls off isn’t forcing us to play as a character we hate, it’s giving us reasons to emphasize with them. It was gradual, and despite some heavy-handed moments meant to squeeze sympathy out of the player (how many times do I have to see that fuckin’ aquarium?!), I eventually came to love Abby’s side of the story. The obvious irony being that she unwittingly walks the same path Joel did in the original.

My love for the narrative shouldn’t distract from how well designed the world is. Being a King County local, the vision of a ruined Seattle strikes an uncomfortable note -- it was eerie seeing recognizable buildings overgrown with vegetation but otherwise devoid of life. Maybe the heart-wrenching story also distracts from the fact this game is, by definition, survival horror. Exploring toppled buildings in the dark, hearing the animalistic chittering of the infected, defending yourself with limited resources… It manages to be a scarier entry into the genre in 2020 than even RE3R. There’s a particular fight in a fungus covered hospital basement that easily goes down as my Boss Fight of the Year. Human enemies make for clench-worthy encounters, too, with incredibly adept AI that forces you to keep moving around the environment and set traps to avoid getting overwhelmed.

Admittedly, the subject matter -- or more to the point, the grim tone -- was tough to stomach during an actual pandemic which has happily treated us to the worst of human nature. Still, The Last of Us Part II is absolutely worth playing for its balance of mature themes and expertly crafted world, and the way it juxtaposes beauty and awfulness in the same breath.

2. SPIDER-MAN: MILES MORALES

The most impressive thing about Miles Morales is that, despite being a truncated midquel rather than a full-blown sequel, it’s a better game than 2018’s Spider-Man. It’s not because of the instantaneous loading times or the fancy ray-tracing techniques used on the PS5 version of the game. Rather, it’s how it takes the joyride of the original game and hones it into a laser focused experience filled to the brim exclusively with highs. Like Batman: Arkham Asylum going into Arkham City, Miles starts the game off with his mentor’s best abilities and tools. From there, he discovers his own powers, his bioelectric venom strike, which ends up feeling like the missing ingredient from the first game’s combat.

Your open-world playground -- a locale in the Marvel universe called “New York City” -- is exactly the same size as the previous installment, which helps avoid making the game feel “lesser.” But Insomniac wisely consolidated the random crimes Peter faced into a phone app that Miles can check and choose which activity to help out with. Choices like this really trim the fat from the main game and help alleviate “the open-world problem” where the story’s pacing suffers because players are spending hours on end collecting feathers. This is great because Miles’ story is also great. The narrative kicks Peter out pretty early on, focusing on how Miles assumes the role of city protector, primarily focused on his new home in Harlem. Insomniac avoids retreading the same path paved by Into the Spider-Verse by telling a relatable tale where Miles defines his identity as Spider-Man. With a strong cast led by Nadji Jeter as Miles, the game lands an impactful story that weaves its own new additions to Miles’ mythos (light spoiler: I loved their take on The Prowler).

Miles Morales was pure virtualized joy from start to finish. A requirement of the platinum trophy is to replay the entirety of the game on New Game+. I didn’t hesitate to restart my adventure the minute the credits were over. Everything I loved about 2018’s Spider-Man is here: the swinging, the fighting, the gadgets, the bevy of costumes. But it gave me a new element I adore and can’t see Insomniac’s franchise proceeding without: being Miles Morales.

1. FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE

I love subversive media, I do. And Square Enix’s “remake” of one the most beloved video games ever made subverts expectations by openly acknowledging that, yes, the original story you love exists and is consistently referenced in this game. But this is not that story. This is something..else. Because the truth is, SE could never have recreated FFVII and delivered a title that matched the Sacred Game fans created in their heads. That impossible standard is like an imagined deity, given power by feeding on raw nostalgia reinforced by years of word-of-mouth and appearances on Top 100 lists. I’m not saying FFVII is a bad game or that fans give it too much credit. Not at all. There’s a reason it’s so influential -- it’s good! But memory works in a funny way over time. We have a tendency to codify our perception of a thing over the reality of it. The connection we make to certain media, especially when introduced at a young age as FFVII had been to a whole generation of fans so long ago, creates a legend in our heads. Unfortunately, it’s a legend no developer could achieve when tasked with remaking it.

So Square...didn’t. Final Fantasy VII Remake has the same characters, setting, and plot beats as the first third of the original game but it’s not the same game, nor is it a remake of it in the traditional sense. It’s something new. And I fucking love that about it.

Everything is reconfigured, including the combat. After years of trying to merge RPG mechanics with more approachable (and marketable) real-time action (see FFXV and the Kingdom Hearts games for examples), Square Enix finally landed on the perfect balance. You fully control Cloud on the battlefield, from swinging your impossibly huge buster sword to dodging attacks. The ATB gauge (no one knows what the acronym stands for -- that information has been lost to time) gradually fills up, letting unleash powerful moves. But best of all, you fight in a party, and you can switch who to control on the fly.

That may not sound revolutionary, let alone for a Final Fantasy, but each character has a completely unique feel and suite of moves. At times, it feels like playing a Devil May Cry game where you can switch between Dante, Vergil, and Nero on the fly (that’s a free idea, Capcom. Hire me, you cowards). You can soften up an enemy with Cloud’s buster to increase their stagger meter, switch to Barret for a quick gatling barrage, and finally switch to Tifa to crush them with her Omnistrike. You can accomplish this in real-time or slow down the action to plan this out. It’s a great mix of tactics and action that prevents the game from feeling like a mindless hack n’ slash.

What really, really works here is the character work. Each lead walks in tropes first, but the longer you spend with the members of your party, the more their motivations and fears are laid out. You end up having touching interactions with just about the whole main cast. There’s a small segment, after Cloud saves Aerith from invading Shinra guards, that the two make an escape via rooftop.They make light conversation -- small talk really -- but it’s exchanges like this that feel genuine, perfectly framing their characters (stoic versus heartfelt), and grounding an otherwise larger-than-life adventure.

Many bemoaned the fact that FFVIIR only revisits a small portion of the original game, but I think it was a brilliant choice -- to massively expand on areas we only got to see a little of in the original. I honestly didn’t want to leave Midgar. It’s a world rife with conflict and corporate oppression, sure, but Midgar is beautifully realized, from the slums below the plates, populated with normal people trying to make the best of life, to the crime controlled Wall Market, adorned with gaudy lights and echoing honky tonk tunes. It very well may be years before FFVII’s remake saga comes to a close, but if each entry is paved with as much love and consideration and, yes, storytelling subversion as this introductory chapter… It’ll be worth the wait.

[laora-inn]

Supernatural - Destiel and Crowley, seasons 6-12

Hi, guys. 

I’ve re-watched some episodes from Supernatural season 6 and that made me think about Destiel and Crowley - from season 6 to season 12 strictly.  

I love Crowley and think he is one of the main characters which helped Destiel to become closest to canon, though in a hard way. 

Destiel positive, one-sided Crowley/Cas, Crowley/Dean and Balthazar/Cas in subtext mentioned, don’t like - don’t read.

In the season 6, Cas’s working with Crowley was the reason of Dean and Cas’s fight, that literally almost ruined the world. From that point, Cas and Crowley have their own dynamics which Dean is far well acquainted with, though for us viewers it could be not so easy to follow.

Basically, Crowley stayed in the plot in season 6 just for these dynamics and Dean’s further frustration = jealousy. ‘Cause, if we’ll take a look at season 6, all the thing about Cas’s dealing with Crowley wasn’t so bad. Cas really had good purposes, Dean really could talk to him in a supportive way, and I strongly believe that in this case there will be NO Leviathans at all. As well as Cas’s “death”, they were a metaphorical result of Dean’s jealousy and bitter words, which also almost cost Sam his life.

Season 6 is a very interesting piece. For the first time, it’s not Sam who is the main character of the show. It’s more Dean’s story, and Cas is also “Dean’s“. He came mostly when Dean calls, they share “more profound“ bond.

Cas raises Sam from perdition, as he raised Dean, heals Sam, as he healed Dean, answers Sam’s prayers, when Dean doesn’t want to pray first, and is referred to as Sam’s “boyfriend” in 6x11 by Balthazar. But all these prompts to make Sam and Dean’s relationships with Cas equal fail.

Cas saves Sam from Hell FOR DEAN (and yet he can’t save THE WHOLE Sam, it’s Dean who manages to bring Sam’s soul back + Sam restores his memory himself, in time), heals Sam when Dean tells him to do it and THE OTHER WAY, just by touching his forehead, not by cupping his face intimately, as it was with Dean in 5x22. In 6x03 soulless Sam mentions that Cas doesn’t answer his prayers, then Dean prays to Cas, and Cas comes immediately, with the line about his and Dean’s more profound bond on his lips. In 6x10 soulless Sam tricks Cas with his prayer and even threats to kill him if Cas won’t help. In 6x12 Sam, not soulless anymore, tricks Cas with his prayer to know about his past and doesn’t want to hug him.

It’s all outlined. Why?

As for Balthazar’s referring in 6x11: he, of course, could have spoken about both Sam and Dean back there. “You” in “go ask your boyfriend” can be plural, but I rather suppose Balthazar meant Cas as Sam’s boyfriend specifically, and that’s as right as the fact that his words in 6x17, about “the other angel in a dirty trench coat who’s in love with you”, were specifically about Dean. And I’m sure, that in 6x17 Balthazar understands Cas’s intentions better - it’s the same episode where he saves Titanic because Cas told so. I suggest Cas and Balthazar’s reunion took place right before 6x15, ‘cause by the end of 6x15 we know that they are a new-formed team and all this episode has one purpose - to help Cas get the Heaven weapon from Balthazar. Misha’s cameo from 6x15 even tells some things about Balthazar while acting Cas - that Balthazar isn’t a hero and couldn’t beat Rafael, who isn’t definitely going to forgive him.

So, Balthazar’s words about Cas who is in love with Dean are more significant than his assumption about Cas as Sam’s boyfriend. We have enough evidences for the fact that Cas in this season is “Dean’s”, though he cares about Sam a lot.

First of all - ‘cause Sam is crucial for Dean.

No wonder that in 6x22 Cas knocks Sam down to crush Dean. He knows how it works.

So in this season Sam is a victim of Dean and Cas’s love quarrel, someone who is fostered by both of them. And this is the part of a plot structure, as well as Cas and Crowley’s and Cas and Balthazar’s little moments, which are not crucial for the whole Winchesters’ story, but are absolutely necessary to understand Cas in this season and his and Dean’s “hidden” plot.

‘Cause this “hidden” plot is the thing on which the main plot is grounded.

Balthazar and Cas had relationship before Dean was even born. Crowley and Cas had their relationship after Dean decided to have a peaceful life with Lisa and Ben, and this relationship matters from season 6 till the end of season 12. I think it’s basically the reason why Crowley helps Winchesters so much.

You see, for starters, Sam and Dean were just no one to Crowley. They were humans, not even his equals. But Cas - he was higher. As Dean in 5x22, in 6x20 Crowley sees a new “God” in Cas, the Heaven ruler. And he isn’t telling the whole truth about it for sure, but also he isn’t lying. I think in some way he respects Cas, even admires. And it’s not subtle in the plot logic, it’s the part of it.

Let’s check.

Season 6 - Cas and Crowley are working together all the way, Crowley doesn’t want Winchesters to intervene, he tries to kill them and is threatened by Cas. He said that Cas doesn’t know what he is. He is tricked by Cas twice, double-crossed, but not killed - opposite to Raphael. God!Cas needs Crowley.

Season 7 - In 7x01 God!Cas finds Crowley, but, again, doesn’t kill him. He makes authoritarian demands, which have weird subtext (“you take whatever I give you”) and really scare Crowley. He help the Winchesters to enslave Death, but has never did or even said something against God!Cas. In 7x23 Crowley reveals Cas is alive, but, unlike the angels, he isn’t mad. He wants explanations, receives some honey from Cas instead and says in philosophical manner: “karma is a bitch”. Later, he doesn’t try to kill Cas and even leaves Meg with the boys not to disappoint his “business partner”.  

Season 8 - Crowley is a Big Bad this season. Also, this season is the first time than Destiel becomes a real thing textually, for both Dean and Cas. And Crowley is a BIG BAD in the middle of that finally hopeful love story. Coincidence? Hell no! Also, the first question that Crowley asks when he sees Dean alive is “Where is your angel?”. 

In 8x02 Dean tries to kill Crowley who is possessing Kevin’s mum. Why? The same reason Kevin has: Crowley made him fight for his life for year and killed his girlfriend. That’s also relevant for Dean: Crowley is one of the main reasons why Dean must fight for his life for year in Purgatory and lost Cas there.

In 8x07 during their encounter Crowley doesn’t try to attack Cas. He also says, that Cas could call him when he was out the Purgatory. But Cas doesn’t want to make things right with Crowley, he tries to kill him and manages to have Kevin and the half of the demons’ tablet back. Without Cas it will be impossible: the text shows us that Cas doesn’t like Crowley. Not even a little, not anymore.  

In 8x17 Crowley understands that Cas tricked Naomi and is kinda fond of that. Also, he kills Meg here, whom he was torturing for a year and who definitely was Cas’s crash in 7x21-7x23. We also saw that Crowley knew about it - and about the fact that in 8x17 all Meg did was helping Cas and protecting him from Crowley, even if this would cost her her life.

Strange, but this will be also Crowley’s future.  

In 8x21 Crowley rescues Cas from Naomi. He also gets the angels’ tablet FROM THE CAS’S BODY, but lets Cas escape by leaving another angel with him and angel-killing bullet IN HIM.

Season 9 - in 9x10 Crowley is flirting with Cas as much as possible. Just re-watch it and pay attention to all of these “What are you, a pimp?”, “Oh, Cas, such a flirt”, “Hey. Watch the leg”, “I'll be listening to every word you say. - Promise?”, “Without the tie, he's barely recognizable” and “The three amigos ride again”. For some reason, it was more urgent for Crowley to talk about Cas’s being a human first and about Hell later. There was also deleted scene in 9x10, where Cas and Crowley waited for Dean in the motel. They were sitting on the same bed, Crowley called Cas “sunshine” and tried to talk with him about being human, then Dean showed up, and he was very concerned about how they are doing. Destiel shippers consider this scene as an approving one, and I’m totally agree, ‘cause it shows us that Dean is still jealous when it comes to Cas’s relationship with Crowley, and he actually HAS A POINT HERE - if we’ll look at Crowley. ‘Cause Crowley wasn’t interested in Dean back then, he was interested in Cas, who, in his own turn, was absolutely uninterested. He was against releasing Crowley from the start.  

It’s 9x11 where Dean and Crowley begin to develop their own relationship, and I suppose it’s grounded on the mirroring each other. Back in season 8, it’s no wonder why Crowley wanted “to play Dean” for Kevin. He felt something common with Dean, and part of this “common” was Cas.

In 9x11 Crowley says that he tried to hate Dean more than Dean himself but failed. Here he puts Dean in danger by leading him to Cain, who gives Dean his Mark. After that Dean’s way down begins. But this is also true for Crowley! He becomes human blood junkie and in 9x16 needs help. Also, he helps Dean in the end of the season, brings him back - something that Cas and Sam couldn’t do.

Season 10 - here in 10x02 Crowley and Dean’s (b)romance ends, and Crowley helps Dean to return to his normal life... by saving Cas with stealing angel’s grace for him in 10x03. I simply don’t understand WHY Crowley helped Cas here if we’ll ignore their relationship and Destiel. Crowley didn’t know Sam can’t help Dean himself and needs help for surviving. And how the hell did Crowley know that Cas can save Dean, that it will work? Why was he so sure? His words “you owe me” to Cas mean nothing, he’ll never remember them. They sound just like an excuse!

I think here Crowley: 1) wants to save Cas because of their relationship; 2) knows that Cas could “fix the problem” with Dean because of Dean and Cas’s relationship; 3) has sentimental feelings for Dean despite of their break-up one episode earlier.

Crowley couldn’t control Dean. But he thinks Cas can. And he is no wrong!

In this episode Cas says to healed Dean that Crowley stole some grace for him and this is the story for the other time ‘cause he has a female waiting for him in his car. Dean is very unhappy to hear that, and not because of “female” alone, but also because of Crowley. Crowley and some woman are the reason of Cas’s leaving again. As usual.

In 10x14 there was also one deleted scene with Cas and Crowley, where Crowley called Dean Cas’s boyfriend. Cas reacted with: “Maybe, he is your boyfriend?” and Crowley responded: “He is not my type”.

True - ‘cause here Dean gives the First Blade to Cas, not Crowley, and says that he tricked Crowley about Cain’s going to kill him. But they don’t kill Crowley. It’s just Crowley being rejected by both of them.

Still, in 10x23, after Destiel fight, Cas summons Crowley and asks him for help. And Crowley helps! His only demand to Cas is TO BEG for help. To say “King” and “please”. Well, kinky.

Also, Crowley proposes Cas to call him. Not to summon. And by the end of this episode Cas is cursed by Rowena and almost manages to kill Crowley.

Season 11 - it begins with Cas’s acknowledging that he didn’t kill Crowley (and that’s good, Crowley was a big help to save Dean from the Mark). Also, Crowley here has an orgy in some woman’s body. It was more urgent to him than anything else. Hmm.  

Some episodes later Crowley tries to be a foster parent for Amara. He is ready to kill Dean to protect her and fails. Amara becomes free, she wants to see God, the Winchesters want to stop her and call Crowley to see Lucifer. He guides them to Hell, where Cas becomes possessed by Lucifer. After saying good-bye to Sam and Dean Lucifer in Cas’s body returns to Hell, and Crowley isn’t hostile to him. He’s just surprised. 

Then comes a long BDSM story for Lucifer in Cas’s body and Crowley, and Lucifer do all the things God!Cas might do to Crowley but didn’t. When Crowley is free, he is desperate to expel Lucifer from Cas and return him to the Cage. That’s his plan, not Sam’s or Dean’s. Dean wants to expel Lucifer from Cas and give him a new vessel to fight Amara. Sam even didn’t see a point here - Cas and Cas’s vessel are two different things for him. 

Dean fails to expel Lucifer. So does Crowley - he tries in his own way, by possessing Cas’s vessel, like it was with Sam in 9x10. He says to Cas that Dean wants him to expel Lucifer, but Cas is depressed, so it doesn’t work. Also, Sam didn’t know, that he was possessed, and saw the point in fighting back, but Cas doesn’t see. So both Dean and Crowley fail. 

Season 12 - here Cas and Crowley start to look for Lucifer together and this is a horrible piece of news to Dean. Cas left him in 12x03 to work with Crowley again! Cas and Crowley are playing FBI agents together - it was Dean’s only role-play with Cas from 5x03! 

Cas isn’t happy either, but Crowley is. And that’s just amazing, ‘cause without Crowley Cas could be dead in 12x07. Lucifer just saw Crowley and wanted to punch him instead of Cas. No wonder that Dean thanked Crowley for helping Cas here. In 12x08 Crowley helps with Lucifer again. In 12x09 he is uninterested in looking for the Winchester boys, though in 12x12 he helps again - and not just with Ramiel. He rescues Cas from dying. Dean thanks him for that for the second time in 12x15.

In 12x21 Crowley knows about Cas’s bailing off with Kelly. He tells Lucifer about it and calls Cas “Winchesters’ love slave”. He thinks that Cas wants to kill Kelly’s baby. Then Lucifer gets free, and Crowley sacrifices himself to stop him. To save the world, the Winchesters... and Cas - for the third time. 

So Cas was important for Crowley from season 6. He is one of the main reasons Crowley acknowledged Winchesters at all, saw something in them. 

And Crowley, in his own turn, is one of the main characters to expose nature of Destiel. He was always somewhere in the middle of their relationship, mostly as Dean’s mirror. 

Well, from season 13 the nature of Destiel changed. 

[tpwktaron]

My Quarantine Watchlist

hello! i hope this post finds you in good health. today i decided to go a little out of my category of what i usually post and make a movie watchlist. if you haven’t seen what i usually repost, i’m a huge movie buff, and are always adding new films to my watchlist. (you should add me on letterboxd! same username.) so, i compiled a list of my top 10 movies. some of them aren’t considered to be critically acclaimed, but they are still comforting and happy, especially during this rough time we are having. i hope you give these a try, and let me know what you think! disclaimer: i am not a movie expert! some terminology i use is definitely not correct lol. 

1. rocketman - dir. dexter fletcher, 89%

this movie really means so much to me, it’s definitely one of my absolute favorites. taron egerton does an absolutely amazing job as elton john, not just through his performance but his through his singing. yes, he sings the music as well! the music is also perfectly placed throughout the movie to tell the story of elton john’s life. 

synopsis: pretty self explanatory; a musical fantasy about the life of elton john.

2. onward - dir. dan scanlon - 87%

really awesome pixar movie! definitely a great movie for anyone who is a fan of animation, some of the most beautifully animated scenes i have ever seen! i guess that’s just pixar for you. 

synopsis: a teenage elf ian lightfoot and his brother barley are given a spell to bring their late father back to life, but when they mess up the first time, they have to go on a quest to find a phoenix gem to bring him back.

3. eddie the eagle - dir. dexter fletcher - 82%

another masterpiece by the dexter fletcher and taron egerton! this is my favorite movie of all time. it’s so heartwarming and motivating, it’s a great pick-me-up film for when i’m feeling down. taron egerton is definitely a chameleon actor, and can slip into any role with ease! him and hugh jackman have such great chemistry, and this movie easily displays that.

synopsis: based on a true story, olympics-bound eddie edwards trains for the winter olympics as a ski jumper, one of the most dangerous sports in the world, with help from his drunken “coach,” bronson peary.

4. lady bird - dir. greta gerwig - 99%

ugh. this movie. i can’t! when i first watched it it left me speechless. it’s an outstanding coming-of-age film, and a great mother-daughter film as well. christine and her mom’s relationship is hilariously heartwarming. another touch i love is the grainy filter throughout the movie. it was a great touch to add an early 2000′s feel! saoirse ronan’s performance was extraordinary. everything about this movie is 10/10, and i cannot recommend this movie enough, especially to teenagers heading off the college.

synopsis: marion mcpherson, a nurse, works tirelessly to keep her family afloat after her husband loses his job. she also maintains a turbulent bond with a teenage daughter who is just like her: loving, strong-willed and deeply opinionated.

5. love, simon - greg berlanti - 92%

love, simon is a perfectly made film to demonstrate the experience of coming out as a gay teen. it’s funny and witty, with some heart-warming yet heart-wrenching drama. i can’t explain it, but this movie makes me feel things i didn’t think i could feel. nick robinson is a great actor, and this movie got paid dust!! by everyone!!

synopsis: everyone deserves a great love story, but for 17-year-old simon spier, it’s a little more complicated. he hasn’t told his family or friends he’s gay, and he doesn’t know the identity of the anonymous classmate that he’s fallen for online. resolving both issues proves hilarious, terrifying, and life-changing.

6. jojo rabbit - dir. taika watiti - 80%

when i first saw this movie in the theater, i wasn’t sure if i was going to like it. i’m not a fan of war movies and violence, so i was a little uneasy. turns out this could possibly be one of the best movies of 2019! roman griffin davis is the best child actor i’ve ever seen. this movie is a wonderful depiction of anti-hate, and of what life was like for germany during world war II. it shows in a funny way how silly nazi views are. it creates humor over such a sensitive subject, yet you don’t feel bad for laughing!

synopsis: a world war II satire that follows a lonely german boy whose world view is turned upside down when he discovers his single mother is hiding a young jewish girl in their attic. aided only by his idiotic imaginary friend, adolf hitler, jojo must confront his blind nationalism.

7. little women - dir. greta gerwig - 95%

greta gerwig strikes again! she literally has never made a bad movie. this movie is based off of the famous novel little women. it has a star studded cast of timothee chalament, saoirse ronan, florence pugh, emma watson, and laura dern. the power of women!!

synopsis: in the years after the civil war, jo march lives in new york and makes her living as a writer, while her sister amy studies painting in paris. amy has a chance encounter with theodore, a childhood crush who proposed to jo but was ultimately rejected. their oldest sibling, meg, is married to a schoolteacher, while shy sister beth develops a devastating illness that brings the family back together.

8. the greatest showman - dir. michael gracey - 56%

my favorite original musical movie. hugh jackman is such an amazing singer and actor! this movie was one of the first movies that really turned me into a true film admirer. the music has some of the most beautifully written lyrics i know, and it’s a great family movie! it’s intense, yet happy, yet sad, yet exciting, yet every single emotion one person could feel. 

synopsis: growing up in the early 1800s, p.t. barnum displays a natural talent for publicly and promotion, selling lottery tickets by age 12. after trying his hands at various jobs, p.t. turns to show business to indulge his limitless imagination, rising form nothing to create the barnum & bailey circus. 

9. bohemian rhapsody - dir. bryan singer - 60%

although it may have it’s inaccuracies here and there, this movie is still heartwarming and conveys a heartwarming message and moral. rami malek performs as freddie mercury wonderfully, and the chemistry between the cast is indescribable. and what takes the cake? the live-aid re-enactment at the end of the movie, with the band’s mannerisms and everything recreated to the t. 

synopsis: freddie mercury - lead singer of queen - defies stereotypes and convention to become one of history’s most beloved entertainers. the band’s revolutionary sound and popular songs lead to queen’s meteoric rise in the 1970s. after leaving the group to pursue a solo career, mercury reunites with queen for the benefit concert live aid - resulting in one of the greatest performances in rock ‘n’ roll history.

10. anchorman - dir. adam mckay - 66%

my favorite comedy of all time. will ferrell, steve carrell, and paul rudd are all my favorite comedians, so this movie speaks to me. it’s hilariously stupid, but i still love it and recommend it to everyone i know.

synopsis: hotshot television anchorman ron burgandy welcomes upstart reporter veronica corningstone into the male-dominated world of 1970s broadcast news - that is, until the talented female journalist begins to outshine burgandy on air.

[huahsu]

YEAR OF THE GHOST DOG

[TL;DR version for the New Yorker -- I loved many great short songs and became obsessed with (1) a very old, much longer one (2) and YouTube comments this year.]  [links to previous year’s lists at the bottom]

A while back, I found myself in an extended funk. The reasons are uninteresting and honestly a bit dumb, a mix of everyday bummers and more existential stuff, all of which manifested in a kind of 360º sluggishness. I couldn’t really figure my way out of it but I believed that I would eventually stop feeling this way.

One night, I saw that someone online was selling a copy of the Emulations “These Are the Things,” a magnificent soul ballad 7″ out of Oakland. I wasn’t exactly homesick for the Bay Area, but something about the song’s roots, as well as its overwhelming feeling of optimistic yearning, resonated with (through?) me. There’s a moment when the singer’s falsetto peaks, and the piano starts cascading, and things feel like they’re going to work out after all. The copy for sale wasn’t in great shape, and it cost $100, an extravagant amount of money to spend on a piece of music. But I convinced myself that I’d feel better at some point, weeks, months, or years later, and I’d listen to my Emulations single, and recall that weird summer/fall.

As often happened with independently produced records of the sixties and seventies, “These Are the Things” was pressed on styrene, rather than vinyl. Styrene is a kind of plastic that’s lighter, cheaper and much more fragile than vinyl, and you can tell the difference by a kind of hollow plink when you put it on a turntable. Styrene also means that it has a limited life, and that each time the needle drags across its grooves, the record degrades a little bit. Over time, styrene records that get played a lot no longer sound as crisp or clear (or so it seems). I listened to it once it arrived, feeling a bit of regret at this wild expenditure, but also imagining my future self’s gratitude. I imagined entering into communion with everyone who had played this copy before me. I decided to only listen to the song once a year, if that--after all, each time I listened to the record, the song was changing, slightly.

A few months later, I felt normal (whatever that means) again, and the record became a marker of...I’m not sure what--maybe a kind of blind, stubborn optimism. Someone years later uploaded the song onto YouTube, which means I can listen to it whenever I want. This fall, I was trying and failing to spend less time on the Internet. But I decided that, instead of going on Twitter and Facebook, I would just read comments fans left on YouTube. I became obsessed with reading all the intimate histories people shared with one another--the chance encounters, the teenage dates and breakups, the seventies shop owners who recalled the days when stocking the right hit single could cover an entire month’s rent. I was listening to the Emulations when I noticed this comment, from Deric Jackson, who was apparently one of the group’s members: “I sung this song when I was 19yrs old. It was a pleasure to record and send this messageout into the airways. I have been with the women that God had given me to marry when I was 22yrs old. I did not understand at that time I was singing about my own life and the women who I had not met, but how wonderful it is to be with my wife fo 35yrs and life is still a breath of fresh air and wonderful. I would like to say to all real men love your wife, never worship her only one to worship is God alone.“ I’m pretty agnostic about most things relating to providence. But I felt as though I had been living in these words: “I did not understand at that time...” Jackson’s song was a prophecy, maybe even a conjuring, of his own path, and I wonder what he hears when he listens to it now. Sometimes you don’t know what’s coming next. But there’s always another song, and it doesn’t always sound the same as the last time.

(LATE 2017 BUT I REALLY DOUBT ANYONE NOTICED AKA THE FRENCH “MO BAMBA”) Junior Bvndo, “T’as ça #3 (Kylian Mbappe)”

I WILL LISTEN TO ANYTHING THAT USES DISTORTION Sheck Wes, “Wanted” OR OLD SCHOOL STABS Santi feat. Shane Eagle and Amaarae, “Rapid Fire” EVEN MORE THAN THAT, I LIKE THINGS THAT SOUND MESSY AND SLOPPY BUT ARE ACTUALLY PERFECT Caleb Giles featuring Cleo Reed, “Name” WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN AS GOOD AS IF IT HAD BEEN PERFECT, THE WARPED AND SMUDGED BEAUTY IS WHAT MAKES IT BEAUTIFUL Tirzah, Devotion Niagara, Apologia SAME, BUT SLIGHTLY OFF-STEP Blood Orange, “Charcoal Baby” THE BEST GENRE OF MUSIC REMAINS “SADE” Sade, “Flower of the Universe” and “The Big Unknown” Amber Mark, “Love is Stronger Than Pride” Bon Iver and Moses Sumney, “By Your Side” Kelela, “Like a Tattoo” 808s AND HEARTBREAK AND NEAR-OCTOGENERIANS Swamp Dogg, “She’s All Mind All Mind” I WASN’T AS ENAMORED WITH A LOT OF “NEW JAZZ” BUT DID LIKE Sam Wilkes, Wilkes Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes, Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar …WHICH REMINDED ME A BIT OF THIS FACEMELTING REISSUE (RIYL: ALICE COLTRANE, DON CHERRY, ETC ETC) John Tchicai, With Strings SPEAKING OF TERRIFIC JAZZ-ADJACENT STUFF Dos Santos, “Manos Anjenas” THE ORIGINAL “BIG MOOD” Okonkolo, Cantos THE YEAR I REALLY REKINDLED MY LOVE OF THE CELLO Clarice Jensen, For This From That Will Be Filled Oliver Coates, “A Church” …WHICH I DEFINITELY PREFER TO VIOLIN--ESP PIZZICATO--THOUGH THIS WAS QUITE GOOD Sudan Archives, “Nont for Sale” HARPS ALWAYS SOUND GOOD Leya, The Fool Meg Baird and Mary Lattimore, Ghost Forests ALWAYS HAVE TIME FOR WOODBLOCKS AND VIBES Kate NV, для FOR AS WELL AS MIAMI BASS SIGNIFIERS (KICKSTARTER FOR CITY GIRLS TO RAP OVER DJ BATTLECAT IN 2019) City Girls, “Act Up” AND BANJO DRONE...WHY NOT Nathan Bowles, Plainly Mistaken ALBUMS THAT I LIKED IN 2018, AND THAT I SENSE I WILL LIKE EVEN MORE BY THIS TIME NEXT YEAR Ben LaMarr Gay, Downtown Castles Can Never Block the Sun Neneh Cherry, Broken Politics AN ALBUM THAT I WISH WAS TEN ALBUMS Tierra Whack, Whack World AN ALBUM I WISH WAS JUST A LITTLE BIT LONGER Pusha-T, Daytona OF THE MANY REASONS I MOURN THE DEATH OF “THE ALBUM,” ONE IS THAT I ALWAYS LIKE TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE DO WITH THAT LAST SONG YG, “Bomptown Finest” OR HOW ALBUMS, FULL OF SIGNS, ANGLES, FLEETING MOMENTS, CIRCULATE AND RE-CIRCULATE Angelique Kidjo, Remain in Light AND HOW THEY ARE LIKE WHAT NOVELS REPRESENTED IN THE AGE OF POETRY—OPPORTUNITIES TO LIVE INSIDE COMPLEXITY, SPACE, A DEMOS U.S. Girls, In a Poem Unlimited ONE OF THE BEST ALBUMS OF THE YEAR WAS A SOUNDTRACK... Kendrick Lamar et al, Black Panther AND TEASER FOR  Jay Rock, Redemption AND ANOTHER WAS JUST SOME RAP SONGS Earl Sweatshirt, Some Rap Songs WHICH ISN’T TO SAY ARTISTS DON’T STILL VALUE AND HAVE FUN WITH THE FORMAT Vince Staples, FM A TWENTY-FIVE TRACK ADVENTURE INTO VIBES Pink Siifu, ensley AND SOMETIMES TWENTY MINUTES OR SO IS ENOUGH boygenius, boygenius ONE MORE ALBUM THING – FIRST SONGS HAVE ALWAYS FELT LIKE THESIS STATEMENTS, AND STREAMING HAS ONLY APPLIED MORE PRESSURE TO THE SOOTHING, BEWITCHING, PERFECT WELCOME Mac Miller, “Come Back to Earth” MAC MILLER AND THUNDERCAT LOOK SO HAPPY HERE whole thing, but esp six minutes in, and even more so about nine minutes in THE BEST VIBES Show Dem Camp feat. Boj and Ajebutter 22, “Damiloun” Koffee, “Toast” HAPPY-GO-LUCKY B/W DEVIL-MAY-CARE Shoreline Mafia, “Nun Major” I LIKE NEF AND EPs PERFECTLY SUIT HIM Nef the Pharaoh and 03 Greedo, Porter 2 Grape 

RAPPING AS FAST AS YOU CAN OVER FREESTYLE/HI-NRG WILL NEVER SOUND BAD TO ME… SOB X RBE, “Paid in Full” SOB X RBE, “Carpoolin’” …ALTHOUGH THEY ALSO SOUND SICK OVER FAKE GHOST DOG BEATS, TOO, THIS WAS ONE OF MY SONGS OF THE YEAR SOB X RBE, “Paramedic!” SAME WITH MEDHANE Medhane, “The Garden” TRIPPIE REDD PUTS OUT A LOT OF MUSIC FILLED WITH TRANSCENDENT MOMENTS, BUT RARELY MAKES TRANSCENDENT SONGS, AND IT PAINS ME A BIT THAT MY FAVORITE SONG OF HIS THIS YEAR WAS Diplo featuring Trippie Redd, “Wish” TRIPPY-ASS DOO-WOP Cuco, “Sunnyside” A STRONG HARMONY IS A VISION OF WHAT LIFE COULD BE Ben Pirani, “How Do I Talk to My Brother?” WHERE WERE U IN 94 Young Echo, Young Echo SWEAR I'VE NEVER HEARD MUSIC THIS “GREY” ManOnMars, ManOnMars IF YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE A FAKE D’ANGELO SONG, IT SHOULD BE THIS GOOD Patrick Paige III, “Voodoo” LIKED THIS, BUT IT’S ALSO POSSIBLE TO BE A BIT TOO FAITHFUL TO THE PAST Teyana Taylor, “Hold On” NOT QUITE FAYE WONG DOING THE CRANBERRIES (RIP DOLORES O’RIORDAN) BUT STILL MEMORABLE Katherine Ho, “Yellow” LIKE THE BEST PARTS OF FEELS-ERA ANIMAL COLLECTIVE, BUT TAIWANESE Prairie WWWW

NEVER THOUGHT TO VISIT THE LOUVRE UNTIL The Carters, “Apeshit” video BROWN EXCELLENCE Humeysha, Departures "BROWN BEATS” FOREVER RIP Cameron Paul

MY FAVORITE DISCOVERY OF THE YEAR Pharoah Sanders playing “Kazuko” in a tunnel near the Marin Headlands LIKE NONE OF ITS INFLUENCES (FOOTWORK, AMBIENT), LIKE NOTHING ELSE OUT THERE, REALLY Foodman, Aru Otoko No Densetsu DARESAY SKI MASK WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN BOOED OUT OF THE CIPHER Ski Mask the Slump God, Beware the Book of Eli THE MOST FAMOUS PERSON I’VE SEEN ON THE BIG SCREEN AT THE PAST THREE YEARS’ NETS GAMES IS Young M.A., “PettyWap” DEMOS FROM A GROUP I HAVE ALWAYS ADORED, BEFORE THEY FOUND THE SOUND THAT I ADORE The Nonce, 1990 EXTREMELY GOOD AND LARGELY OVERLOOKED REISSUE Suzanne Menzel, Goodbyes and Beginnings FOUR TET IS GOING THROUGH HIS LIVE ARCHIVES, AND IT’S A TREAT TO STUDY HIS ARC/EVOLUTION  Live at Hultsfred Festival, 18th June 2004 Live at LPR New York, 17th February 2010 Live in Tokyo, 1st December 2013 Live at Funkhaus Berlin, 10th May 2018 STRANGE TO LIVE IN A MOMENT WHERE BEING WEIRD SEEMS A BIT DERIVATIVE. STILL, THIS IS BLISSFUL SahBabii, “Anime World” HAPPY FACE Smino, “Klink” SAD FACE Drake, “In My Feelings” (especially this version) “JIM FROM THE OFFICE” FACE Pusha-T, “The Story of Adidon” STOLE YOUR FACE Sophie, “Faceshopping” FACE/OFF YG and Mozzy, “Too Brazy” Sammy Bananas feat Antony and Cleopatra, “Slow Down” Kode 9 and Burial, Fabriclive 100 GASSED FACE E-40 and B-Legit, “Whooped" ABSOLUTELY FACEMELTING Todd Barton and Ursula K. Le Guin, Music and Poetry of the Kesh VACATION AWAY MESSAGE SiR, “D’Evils” Bad Bunny x PJ Sin Suela x Nejo, “Cual Es Tu Plan” BEST OPENING DISCLAIMER TO A VIDEO 808INK, “Come Down” “TAGS: LATIN CHORAL CUMBIA GOTH LOS ANGELES” San Cha, “Cosmic Ways”

BEST USE OF “OOCHIE WALLY,” STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITE BEATS EVER Stefflon Don, “Oochie Wally freestyle” BEST USE OF “SUPERTHUG” Rico Nasty, “Countin’ Up” EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS--THE HEADBANG MINIMALISM, THE LAS VEGAS WALGREENS--BUT ESPECIALLY THE LINE ABOUT WELLS FARGO Rico Nasty, “Trust Issues” “ORGASM ADDICT” (RIP PETE SHELLEY) Victor Oladipo, “One Day” “I JUST TOOK A FLIGHT TO FRANCE TO COP CARDIGANS” Black Thought and Styles P, “Making a Murderer” “AT THE EMIRATES I MILLY ROCK” Manzo and Malachi Amour, “Lingard” DOPE TUNE, AND UNEXPECTED KELLYANNE CONWAY REFERENCE JPEGMAFIA, “1539 N. Calvert” YEAH YEAH YEAH (RIP MARK E SMITH) Travis Scott and Drake, “Sicko Mode” R-E-S-P-E-C-T (RIP ARETHA FRANKLIN) Rosalia, El Mal Querer REEL DEAL, “DRIPPIN’ DOPE (SAXAPELLA)” (1989) Gunna, “Top Off” WAMP WAMP (WHAT IT DO) B/W WAIT (THE WHISPER SONG) Vallee feat. Jeremih, “Womp Womp” SAD REGGAETON IS NOT BAD Bad Bunny, “Solo De Mi” SOUNDS GOOD TO ME, 2002-PRESENT Temani, “Power” Westerman, “Confirmation” REAL LIES, POET LAUREATS OF “YOUNG PEOPLE THINKING ABOUT BEING OLD” Tom Demac and Real Lies, “White Flowers” A SONG DESIGNED TO SOUND LIKE IT CAME OUT THIRTY YEARS AGO, WHICH ALSO FEELS LIKE IT CAME OUT A MILLION YEARS AGO (IT WAS JUST JANUARY) Bruno Mars feat. Cardi B, “Finesse (remix)” TAY-K WAS JUST A YEAR AGO Comethazine, “Highriser” FAVORITE 2 BRIDGES MUSIC ARTS “MIGHT AS WELL” RANDOM PURCHASE OF THE YEAR  Kizaki Ondo Preservation Society and Clark Naito, 木崎音頭 Kizaki Ondo FEELS LIKE IT CAME OUT TEN YEARS AGO (IT WAS JUST JAN/FEB) BUT I NEVER GREW TIRED OF IT Rich the Kid, “Plug Walk” ODDLY REASSURING THAT PEOPLE STILL JANGLE Massage, “Oh Boy” Earth Dad, “Walter” ...AND DISCOVER WORLDS FROM WITHIN THEIR BEDROOMS Soccer Mommy, Clean ...AND EXPLORE THE CONTOURS OF GROWLING AND NAGGING Sada Baby and Drego, “Bloxk Party” ...AND CAN USE THE PAST TO MAKE SOMETHING SO VISIONARY AND FORWARD-THINKING Virginia Wing, Ecstatic Arrow Mitski, Be A Cowboy ...AND LOOKING FOR FOURTH WORLDS Arp, Zebra ...AND MAKE IMPOSSIBLE RHYTHMS Heavee, WFM ...AND THAT ARTISTS I HAD NEVER HEARD OF, WORKING IN IDIOMS I HAD NEVER HEARD OF, MIGHT STILL BLOW MY MIND Odunsi (the Engine), rare. JUNGLE LIVES X-Altera, “Blowing Up the Workshop” mix TOP THREE TIMES I SAW STANDING ON THE CORNER THIS YEAR 3 - The Merciful Allah Black Hole Theatre 2 - The Time it All Ended with Fireworks on Grand St. 1 - An Empty Storefront During a Blizzard

{HONORABLE MENTIONS -The Time They Brought a Monolith -THEME DE YE-YO [Respect to the Gods]} SONG OF THE SPRING, SUMMER, WINTER, YEAR,  STILL UNDEFEATED ### A CHURCH AND JOHN LENNON’S “IMAGINE” :: 2017 SIKH DEVOTIONAL MUSIC :: 2016 SPOOKY BLACK :: 2015

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

So I can't help asking... book recs?

Oh god. Listen, I love this ask. So much. This will get long, because I’m a nerd, but here are some of my favs. I included links on Amazon so people can read the descriptions, but please try to buy local when you can!

Feel free to come to my inbox anytime with recommendations or book chatter!

The Song of AchillesBy Madeline Miller

My current obsession. Search the #patrochilles or #tsoa on my blog. I’m a sucker for Greek mythology and this story broke me - it stayed with me for weeks. I keep re-reading the ending and legitimately sobbing. The language is poetic, the metaphors are brilliant, and the love story between Achilles and Patroclus is breathtaking. 150/10 would recommend.

A Tree Grows in BrooklynBy Betty Smith

I first read this when I was 11-years-old – in fact, the librarian eventually gave me her copy, because I checked it out so often. Since then, I’ve read it at least once a year (this means more than 20 years) and I have a tattoo with my favourite quote. It’s not a story about anything specific, but rather a look at what it means to be human, told through the eyes of a young girl named Francie Nolan, growing up poor in a 1900s Brooklyn tenement. 

The HelpBy Kathryn Stockett

Abileen Clark is one of my absolute favourite characters. She’s an incredible human being and her courage in the face of the racism and personal tragedy she endures is astounding. She’s the wheel that sets the entire story in motion, and I find her to be so inspiring.

1984By George Orwell

It’s terrifying. Especially considering how realistic it feels in the world today.

The Book ThiefBy Markus Zusak

The narrator of this story is Death – how ingenious is that? Liesel’s story is beautiful and filled with suspense and her relationship with Rudy is one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve read. 

All the light we cannot seeBy Anthony Doerr

Another WW2 story, I can’t get enough. It compares the experience of two people on opposite sides of the war – one tragically as part of the Hitler Youth, the other who is a surprising participant in the Resistance. The path that leads them toward each other is complicated.

The Versions of UsBy Laura Barnett

Told through different story arcs, it’s a story full of ‘what ifs’. It explores how different your life story could be based on the smallest changes in the beginning. Again, I cried so much. On a boat. In front of strangers.

My life in FranceBy Julia Child

This was a random book I picked up at the library and to this day, it’s a go-to when I need something comforting. Julia Child led an incredible life – after WW2 she went to Paris where she became a chef, wrote a cookbook with her friends, met so many famous people, and travelled the world with the love of her life. I wish I could be her.

The HistorianBy Elizabeth Kostova

I’m an avid reader of fictional history and this book delivers. It follows a young woman searching for her missing father, who has a mysterious connection to Vlad the Impaler. They travel through four of my favourite cities – Amsterdam, London, Budapest, and Istanbul – which would be enticing enough, but the vivid imagery and the complex mystery bring it to another level.

The FountainheadBy Ayn Rand

I know Rand is a polarizing author and I understand why, but regardless – I love this book. I was at university the first time I read it, and the raw emotion in Howard Roark’s struggle and his relationship with Dominique Francon was unlike anything I had read. 

The Thorn BirdsBy Colleen McCullough

This is one of those epic novels that sticks with you. The rugged harshness of life on an Australian sheep farm, the bitterness of family obligation, and the illicit love affair between a young woman and a Priest, this story literally has it all. 

OutlanderBy Diana Gabaldon

Sassenach. Hands down, this is one of the greatest love stories I’ve encountered. There’s no place in the world I love more than Scotland and Claire and Jamie have the kind of love we all want to find.

East of EdenBy John Steinbeck

This story is sort of brutal. It was surprising in the way it made me connect with – and root for – certain characters that I did not expect. 

The Fault in our StarsBy John Green

At this point, I’m sure everyone’s either seen the movie or read the book and John Green is a national treasure, but I have to say – I remember finishing this book in the middle of the night, thinking ‘wow that was really good,’ going to the kitchen for a glass of water, and then collapsing into a pile of tears. I had to wake my husband up and wail about Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster and to this day, he still makes fun of me. If you haven’t read this book, what even are you doing with your life.

A Wrinkle in TimeBy Madeleine L’Engle

I’ve had a copy of this my entire life. I love the beginning of this story – it was a dark and stormy night – and I adore the awkward elegance of Meg Murray. 

The NightingaleBy Kristin Hannah

More tears. The relationship between two sisters during WW2, one who finds a place for herself in the Resistance and the other who quietly tries to survive, is tragic and tense and a wonderful demonstration of what people do to stay alive.

Anne of Green GablesBy Lucy Maud Montgomery

Anne Shirley is one of my favourite characters in all literature. She is spunky and sassy and so full of life – she inspires me to live more fully, I’m grateful I found her growing up.

[blondecoffeecake]

Sunshine Time!

YES, BECAUSE THIS STILL APPLIES.      

And because WHO doesnt deserve a bit of extra sunshine? I love you damn nerds. Yall keep me happy on the hardest of days.

@missselinakitty

Let us start with this bih right here -- WHATS GOOD SELINA!?

The Squirrel to my Moose, the House to my Wilson, this nerd is in the top tier of my most favorite people in the world. She knows me better than anyone. She’s hilarious. She’s feisty. She speaks her mind. She’s one of the most learn-ed peoples that I know and she keeps me grounded (but on my toes) every damn day. 

When life has tried to kick her in the dick, she has bounced back faster and harder than anyone I’ve ever met. I wish I could be as brave and resilient and committed and determined and confident as her someday. Because she’s so determined and confident, I hate her and love her (and like her) I am so grateful to have one of the most AMAZING people on the planet to call my best friend.

*~*~*~*~*~

@sundog-fl

My ride or die. Mein true seestor. My LOVE. She is my heart. My seestor is the most giving, hard-working and humble person I’ve ever met. God, the experiences she’s had to endure have made her so strong and sweet (and she’s NEVER let it turn her hard. I am in awe of her strength.) 

My seestor has saved my life on so many occasions (literally, emotionally, spiritually and figuratively) and she inspires me every single day to follow my heart and my dreams. I love her so much. I don’t deserve her.

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

@mistyrydia

My Baconcakes! The Usagi to my Minako (or is she the Minako to my Usagi?) and the Original Metal Queen. I’m so blessed to have met this amazing Viking Warrior Princess. We share so many quirky things in common and her soul is one of the brightest and sweetest out there.

She is practically DRIPPING with talent -- her art is phenomenal, you should go check it out and give her a follow -- she writes, she plays a TON of instruments, she even freaking composes music.

She just. Is so wonderful and patient with me. I can’t.

(Baconcakes, I love you with all my yeti-love. NO TAKE MIRROR)

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

@thewhiterabbit42

OHHHMYGOD. *bounces in circles* I’m so excited!! Oh Megs. My Megs. 

My sweetest and most amazing waifu.

I am so, so, SO happy that we’ve become friends. (A little bit of backstory: I devoured all of her writings offsite before working up the courage to FINALLY comment on one of her posts here on the Tumblrz, and tell her how awesome I think both she and her works are. AND AFTER MY RABID FANGIRLING, SHE STILL LET ME BECOME HER FRIEND.)

Let me tell you, I do NOT deserve this lady. Her talent is absolutely mindblowing. 

(A second backstory: She let me in on an RP Blog she had created, based on the promise of doodles, which I had delivered on, (kinda,) and while she supported and encouraged me on my art (which I had given up on at this point) she also took the time to encourage me to start up on writing entries in the blog as well. And the encouragement was so badly needed at a time in my life where I felt everything I did ended in complete utter FAIL. So, I will always be eternally grateful for that.)

In addition to being one of the funniest, sassy, genuine and refreshing souls I’ve ever encountered, she’s also one of the strongest. She balances so many different things in her personal, professional and artistic life that it makes my head spin. 

And that’s OUTSIDE of the Internet.

I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s an ACTUAL superheroine. This woman works SO hard on everything she does and expects nothing in return -- she is such a strong and inspiring woman and I cherish the fact that I get to call her my friend. Again, I don’t deserve her, so I’ll continue to send her gifs, and music, and random shitty ideas that go absolutely nowhere (but will at least make her chuckle or roll her eyes at me.) SHE GIVES ME LIFE. I LOVE YOU, WAIFU.

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

@sumara62

SUZY. IS. THE. BEST. Let me tell you why: Besides the fact she’s my dahling, and that she’s a phenomenal friend, and she always checks up on me, and sends me the best gifts, and always makes time for me if I’m having a sad day, she shares her help and time and skills with so many people, without expecting anything in return. I met Suzy through Megs and by playing on the previously mentioned RP blog that they ran. She was also kind enough to nurture my little artsy soul and gave the most amazing (and helpful) feedback when it came to dishing out posts (that could never hold a candle to theirs.) This woman is one of the smartest ladies I know. A true renaissance woman, I’m amazed with how she shares so much of her knowledge and skillsets; her insight and advice is something I truly value EVERY single time she offers it to me.   She also happens to beta for a bunch of people in our little Tumblr community, which, I’d imagine is an undertaking in itself with all you talented writers. Her dedication blows me away! GO FOLLOW HER.

I LOVE YOU SUZY, THANK YOU FOR BEING SO GOOD TO ME WHEN I YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE!

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

@nobodys-baby-now

Let me explain. ...no. There is too much. Let me sum up.

VEEEEEEEE. I  love you so much! Why do you put up with me?! (I’m dead-ass serious, I’m such a dork. I don’t deserve you.)

This girl is so much fun, I wish I was half as cool as her. Vee has such a big heart and is so unashamedly dedicated to her friends, her fandoms and crafts. She’s another one of these amazing renaissance women that I keep collecting -- She draws, she paints, she writes, she INSPIRES. She gets my weird sense of humor. She appreciates my equally weird taste in music. And she makes me laugh. Like, all the time. My face hurts from all the smiles that she gives.

AND SHE FRICKEN MADE ME ART. AND JEWELRY. SKJFDGHKJSDGF. WHY ARE YOU SO INCREDIBLE?!

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

@girl-next-door-writes

*blender noises* Holy shit *slams her hands on the table* You guys need to stop what you’re doing and check her out. Talk to her, RP with her, or just get into any sort of fandom discussion with this beautiful babe. I love how varied her fandom range is and how easily she can portray the wide array of characters in her stories. Oh, and her gif-game is SO on point.

I forgot to mention -- Y’all watch out. Crowley’s Queen, Our One True Queen of Hell is among us. It’s her. And she is an absolute delight.

I am SO happy that we have become friends, darling!

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

@rowdyhooliganism

EEEE! I’m so excited about her, y’all. What. A. Wonderful. Gal.                                                                                       

*whispers* So, candidly speaking, I totally didn’t know there were other people who appreciated/loved the angel Gadreel in the Supernatural series. He’s not got the best reputation with the fanbase.

I was recommended to her by some of the ladies above and holy shit. This girl. The way she can paint a scene. Or write a character mannerism. Every story she writes, she does the characters justice in SO many ways. ESPECIALLY GADREEL.

Her talent makes my soul cry.

She’s even written me drabbles in the past, and I am SO not ashamed to admit that I read them on the regular at least once a week. (ASDHHSDAGFS that’s the quickest way to my heart right now.) I LOVE THIS LADY SO MUCH.

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

Then... last but certainly not least.. there’s the Gadreel/Tahmoh HAREM that I have had the absolute pleasure of frequenting (There’s a fun thought -- I doubt Gadreel’d even know what to do with one, mwahaha.)

@icecream-and-gadreel @kittenofdoomage @room-with-a-cat and @authoressskr 

(*sweating*) is it hot in here?

I’ll admit, I haven’t had the opportunity to have many one-on-one conversations with these talented ladies, but Chuck knows that I blow up their damn notifications with likes and reblogs and comments. I’m pretty sure they’re all sick of my shit.

ALSO, THEY’RE JUST OVERALL AMAZING PEOPLE IN GENERAL. I HOPE WE CAN BECOME BETTER FRIENDS. *is my rabid fangirl showing?*

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

TLDR; You nerds are the best. And I cannot tell you enough about how proud I am of EACH and EVERY one of you. Thank you so much for your encouraging words, your inspiration, and your friendship. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. <3

[sl-walker]

GofT: A—Maybe Meglann preparing Dani for the the Great Maul Hike, or the shovel talk from Breha?

“He’s like a malfunctioning traffic signal.  All mixed signals,” Dani said, sitting still while Meglann worked on braiding her curly and occasionally unruly hair.  When she felt Meg stiffen a little, she added, “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.  Just– different.”

Meg claimed she wasn’t well acquainted with Lord Maul, but she was the occasional employee of the Queen of Alderaan and thus felt strongly about the royal family, House Organa as a whole and their reputations.  Admittedly, most people on Alderaan did, and most of them seemed to hold the founding family in quite high esteem.  Still, after a moment, Meg said, “I wish I knew what to tell you.  He comes in occasionally, has a caf or some tea, sometimes orders breakfast and then leaves again. He always tips well.  He’s polite and easy on the eyes and I don’t get any mixed signals, but then again, I’m not the one who wants into his bed.”  A beat. “Though, I wouldn’t go jumping out if I found myself there, either.”

“I’m sure you know more than that,” Dani said, with a smirk, tipping her head backwards to look at Meg. “You work for his family.  You’re right in the University District, you can’t tell me there aren’t rumors that fly around.”

“You know what they say about rumors–”

“–one grain of truth in a sandcastle of misdirection.  But that one grain of truth is what I’m looking for.”

“You’re such a cop.”  Meglann plunked her hand down on the top of Dani’s head and pushed it until she was looking forward again, then went back to braiding. “Okay, let me see: Rumor has it that he’s a freeloading conman, a charity case, a very well-camouflaged secret lovechild of Queen Mazi’s with some zabrak lover, an exceptionally pricey prostitute, a hired body-guard– the list goes on and on.  I do know for fact that he was an environmental studies major and graduated about two and a half years ago with high honors and that his name is definitely in House Organa’s charter, penned there by the Queen Mother herself.”

Dani almost laughed at that.  She supposed she could see where the uninformed would get shades of all of those more outlandish suggestions.  She also wondered how many of them actually knew he was sleeping with the current Queen and Viceroy, but figured – probably rightly – that was a topic even Meglann would go mum on if she brought it up.

One thing about Alderaanians; for as open and welcoming as they were, they coveted their privacy highly.  And really, Dani had more than enough experience with Elder Houses to understand why.  Even on peaceful Alderaan, those in power could collect enemies; hell, she wouldn’t be here if not for a case of that a couple months back, which was what led to her meeting House Organa’s mysterious adopted son.

“No dates?” she asked, because if there was one thing gossip was good for, it was seeing who thought who was sleeping with who else.

“No.  The occasional gossip columnist tries to figure him out, but I’ve never seen anything confirmed.”

Dani went to nod, then thought better of it, since Meg still had chunks of her hair caught between nimble fingers.

Maybe, once she was done appreciating said fingers, she could do a little research and see what grains of truth separated from the castle of misdirection.

The HoloNet turned up surprisingly little.  Alderaan’s major news sources had archives and Dani went through them with the speed and practice of an investigator while Meglann slept off their third or fourth coupling.  With the soft flannel sheets tangled around her shins, Dani sat and tried to dig up information, but all she really found were references to when Maul was granted his title and official place in House Organa – at the same time House Organa was granted the throne – and some about his University career, which was about as non-scandalous as it could get.

She could see what she thought were his fingerprints on things, though; when related articles came up about testing a cure for an invasive ash-tree blight, she knew he was one of the scientists on the team which had done it.  When there was mention of an arts school being expanded around old-growth trees, nudged that way on an endowment from House Organa, he had to have been at least partly behind it.  Little things like that.  But for being a highly unlikely member of the royal household, Maul himself was apparently quite good at keeping out of the spotlight.

Which was completely incongruous with the fact that he sure as hell dressed like he wanted to have every gaze in the room on him and largely succeeded at parties.

Dani tapped her stylus against her lips lightly for a moment, then turned to another curiosity: For what zabraks she had encountered in her life, she’d never seen a red one, and she had never seen one wearing such bold tattoos, either.

It was when she started hunting for information on that that she got her first solid trail.

When Meg woke up well before dawn, Dani was still awake following it.

According to CorSec internal documentation – because the HoloNet had provided only enticing hints and nothing solid – the only known zabrak-type sentient that lived in such vivid skin was the Dathomirian Nightbrother.  A hybridized species of some indeterminate mix of human and zabrak, from the Outer Rim world of Dathomir, they were bred and kept as slaves for the purposes of procreation and labor by their counterparts, the Nightsisters.

Dani felt her face twist into something sour at reading that, but slavery was a miserable reality that had not yet been driven out of the galaxy, one which her own people had fallen victim to in times past, and one which she encountered with painful regularity in her line of work.

There wasn’t much about them, though, aside the fact that if they were found off of Dathomir, then likely they were slaves and that all law enforcement should make every effort to determine their status and, if necessary, free them from the slaver holding them and get them help through the social service agency best equipped.  Female slave-holders tended to seek them as pleasure slaves whereas male slave-holders kept them as fighters for the illegal bloodsports that still were waged in dark undergrounds even in the Republic.  There was a warning attached that they were almost always Force-sensitives, but rarely to never trained.  The price list based on their size, markings, colors and patterns made her skin crawl, but that was how it was with any flesh-peddling of the non-consensual kind.

(According to the list, Maul would be worth three times his weight in gold; the vivid, bright skin and rich black markings indicated a blood-purity that had gotten rare among the already incredibly rare Nightbrothers.  It seemed perfectly unsurprising that something about him could make him less mysterious while making him even moreso, all at the same time.)

A public records search turned up a sealed juvenile record.  Nothing short of a full senate vote with a two-thirds majority and an agreement by the Chancellor himself would unseal it.

It was going off of that, though, that lead her to the feature news article from one of Coruscant’s reputable papers detailing an illegal fight ring, where three fully adult combatants were killed by a twelve-year-old zabrak boy, who was taken into custody when law enforcement descended on the crowd in a mass arrest.  But when Dani tried to follow the boy’s trail into the byzantine, murky bureaucracy of the capitol world’s justice system, she had no luck whatsoever.

After that, he became a ghost.

“You’re going to miss your hiking date if you sit there much longer,” Meg said, bustling around the diner as she prepared for the morning rush. “Do I even want to know what you’ve found?”

Dani looked at the single half-blurred image of a whip-thin, by all accounts tiny boy snarling at law enforcement officers, equal parts terror and defiance, then swiped the article off of the datapad’s screen. “Probably not.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if this was going to end up being a hike, an investigation or a fishing expedition.

Though, Dani had to admit, it would doubtless be interesting.

[hekate1308]

The Taste of Two

Here it is, the serial killer Drowley AU I am sure everybody asked for ;). Warnings: Cannibalism. Crowley is basically Hannibal Lecter. 

“Now, Mr, Crowley“ Naomi Tapping announced, “You have to tell me what’s in those wonderful canapés. Me and Rachel have been guessing all evening.”

“I’m so sorry” he replied with a winning smile, “but if I did, you wouldn’t like it anymore.”

She chuckled, taking another sip of her champagne. “Such a nice way to remember Judge Cohan by, this soiree.”

“I am glad you approve.”

“I am sure he would have, too; you knew him.”

Yes. And he had known him, to the very end. Crowley smiled.

As rude as the judge had often been – only once to Crowley though, which had been why he was no longer allowed to enjoy is retirement.

“Such a terrible end for a wonderful man” Naomi said now, looking down in her glass. “And the police still have no clue who did it.”

“On the contrary, they do know” he answered smoothly. “It was the Angel Maker, at least that’s what the newspapers say.”

She shook her head. “How they can call someone so disgusting an Angel Maker...”

Because he turned his victims into angels, pieces of art. Not that he could tell Mrs. Tapping that.

She would lose her appetite, and then where would they be? Plus, he didn’t have place in his fridge, the dearly departed judge had ensured that.

“You know the media, Mrs. Tapping. They will take anything just to have a headline.”

“I guess you are right.”

Crowley smiled and allowed himself another canapé.

For as stubborn a bastard as the judge had been, they tasted wonderful.

“What’s up with you?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’ve been in a bad mood all week” his brother told him and Dean reminded himself that he couldn’t let his mask slip.

Sam must never find out about his little hobby.

“Just, you know... work.”

He’d been planning the judge’s abduction for weeks now. Weeks. And instead this pretentious asshole had swept in and “made him into an angel” or whatever the papers called it.

Dean hated the Angel Maker. From the name to the attitude to his high-profile victims.

When his thirst for blood had made itself known and Dean had realized he could no longer ignore it, he’d decided he would go after scumbags. Paedophiles, murderers who’d never been caught, that sort of thing.

He was doing society a favour, but no, all the publicity had to go to the guy who left opera music to play at murder scenes and was good at carving. That was it. Dean at least made the bastards he hunted suffer; this guy didn’t care, as long as he got his snack and the body looked artsy.

In the last week, Dean had killed two drug lords, but did anyone care? Oh no, everyone was screaming about the Angel Maker.

He didn’t even have a nickname. The press didn’t care.

He’d make them see.

It was time to look for a high-profile douche.

Crowley was usually more concerned with aesthetics when it came to choosing his victims, and it had only been a month since the judge. He could easily have waited a bit longer.

But the congressman who happened to run a paedophile ring was also incredibly impolite, and that had caught his attention during a fundraiser.

So, really, he was doing something good. He was a benevolent party for once. He could hardly pass the chance up.

Dick Roman would make a formidable victim.

Breaking into his apartment on the fourteenth floor of a well-secured building in upper Manhattan was only too easy. And Mr. Roman didn’t keep bodyguards during the weekend because of his extracurricular activities.

As he walked down the corridor to his door, Crowley smiled.

And then someone attacked him.

He knew immediately it wasn’t a body guard or other trained professionals; the movements didn’t fit. Even so, the man was strong, but nothing Crowley couldn’t handle, and soon he had him backed against the wall –

Only to be thrown down on the floor.

Interesting. No one had managed to put up such a fight in years.

They wrestled silently for several minutes, neither of them able to get the upper hand. Finally they were having a standoff when his attacker roughly asked, “Who are you? Not a fed, not military, I can tell.”

“I could say the same.” Crowley cocked his head to the side.

“I am the one who’s gonna make sure that scumbag doesn’t touch any more children.”

“I can only repeat my statement.”

He couldn’t be absolutely sure in the darkness, but he thought the man narrowed his eyes.

“Right. Because that just happens – two killers meeting because they are after the same target.”

“I prefer art pieces” Crowley replied smoothly, only to find himself pressed against the wall again, the man’s arm chocking him.

“You are the Angel Maker” he hissed. “You’re the one who gets all the attention because he’s extra.”

“Oh. I presume you’re the other serial killer, then? The one no one has even noticed stalks through the streets? I know your work; rather presumptuous to call me extra when you give yourself the semblance of a vigilante when really all you do is torture people to death.”

“They deserve to suffer.”

“Then what do you deserve?”

“Not to be ignored because of the likes of you, for one matter. That woman you killed six months ago – Meg Masters. She’d done nothing.”

“She bought a painting she perfectly knew I wanted to spite me.”

“She bought a painting” he mocked his accent. “Of course. But then, why are you here? I’m certain you can’t care less about what Dick roman has done.”

He was right, but Crowley was more preoccupied with wondering why being menaced by the unnamed killer was not nearly as unpleasant as it should have been.

“That’s true, but I can’t abide rude people.”

“You – “ Unexpectedly, he chuckled. It was a very nice sound.

His assailant stepped back. “You know what? You’re kind of entertaining, despite everything.”

Crowley stretched, stepping away from the wall. “I have never had a partner in crime before... want to try?” He wasn’t entirely sure why he was inviting him to join, but why not? A little variety couldn’t hurt.

“Hm... why not? Might as well see your skills everyone’s going crazy about in action...”

He was rather good at picking locks, and soon enough, they were standing over Dick Roman who was peacefully asleep with no idea what was about to happen to him.

Once they had him up, gagged, bound and afraid, they turned the light on.

Crowley had definitely not been prepared for this.

It was rather unfair; certainly someone with so little taste when it came to killing should not be so beautiful.

The Adonis in front of him looked surprised. “Fergus Crowley? The philanthropist?”

“I give back for what I take.”

“I guess. Name’s Dean” he replied, his gaze growing hungry.

How... interesting.

“Shall we?”

“Only if you’ll give me a hand” Dean said, pointing at Roman’s right one and grinning. “Since he felt kids up with that. Pervert.”

“Oh, I’ll save the best piece for you” Crowley promised.

Dean’s eyes sparkled.

Roman tried to make a noise. Dean moved but Crowley raised his hand.

“Let me. Hurting him would ruin the tableau.”

“Oh, will you teach me how to art?”

“Quid pro quo. You’ll have to show me how to make it last.”

“I can do that.”

And they did.

Dean looked even more mesmerizing with blood on his face.

“Well, if that isn’t the Mona Lisa of murders right there” Dean said, looking at their word two delicious hours later.

“And the night is still so young” he agreed. “How about we clean up and afterwards I show you how to cook in the most humane way possible?”

“I like the way you think. I’ve never tried it, but hey... this asshole definitely deserved to be devoured.”

“It’s not often I meet someone who has the same tastes I do... even if they are a little misguided.”

“Misguided, hm? I’ll show you misguided.”

And to his surprise – and delight, as he had to admit – Dean dragged him into a kiss. He tasted of blood and Crowley would have loved to continue, but sadly they couldn’t allow themselves to tarry too long at a crime scene.

They met again one hour later in Crowley’s apartment.

Dean had indeed cleaned up; he’d even put on a suit.

“Look at you; you’re not that bad when you’re not imitating some has-been rock star.”

“Not all of us have the money to buy expensive clothes only to throw them away after a good session” Dean replied.

It didn’t take long for them to start flirting again.

“Careful with the hand.”

“I’m always careful with my hands” Dean replied, raising his right only to trail it down Crowley’s tie.

“Some would say you’re playing with fire.”

“It’s a stove; no real danger there.”

In his eyes, there was both a challenge and something like a threat.

He was the most exhilarating thing Crowley had ever encountered.

Dean knew he probably shouldn’t have gone to Crowley’s apartment, despite the murder they had shared. And so far, the guy only knew his first name. It would have been easy to disappear of Crowley’s radar.

But something about the man just drew him in. Maybe the contrast of the wealthy philanthropist being a cold-blooded killer that was not at all unlike Dean’s own life as a devoted brother and perfect employer while enjoying a good murder now and then. Maybe it was the accent. Maybe it was the suit.

Whatever the reason, soon Dean found himself in the middle of a cooking lesson.

He’d never tried human meat before, but he had heard it tasted like chicken, plus he couldn’t deny that the idea of trying a victim of the Angel Maker himself was... exciting.

And it did, indeed, taste like chicken. Extremely well-prepared chicken though.

And of course Crowley happened to buy wine so expensive even Dean liked it.

He knew very well at the end of the meal that he had to make a decision.

Granted, it might not have been his best, but –

He kissed Crowley again.

“I must say” Crowley drawled Dean didn’t know how much later. “I didn’t expect that.”

He chuckled. “Me neither. Thanks for good old Dick Roman.”

“Indeed.”

Dean, despite having had many one night stands in the past, found himself reluctant to ho.

And Crowley didn’t want him to leave either apparently since he told him “You might as well stay.”

Well then.

Somehow, Dean and Crowley kept contacting each other after that first night. After all, it wasn’t easy to find friends who shared one’s hobby when this hobby was a bit outside the norm.

And yes, they continued to have sex. Crowley would even go so far as to admit that he liked Dean, if only to himself.

They soon found that their philosophies didn’t have to contradict one another. Dean continued to kill “douche bags” as he put it, while he made sure to call Crowley whenever he found someone promising an aesthetic scene.

The police never figured out that the Angel Maker had found a partner.

“My, my” Naomi declared on another one of Crowley’s soirées, “I am almost jealous.”

“Of whom?” Dean asked.

“That is open for discussion, my dear.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “Hear that Sammy? I’m a catch.”

Sam had originally been surprised when he’d told him he was dating Fergus Crowley of all people – he’d been so kind as to come to Dean’s restoration shop one day so they could explain how they met – but seeing how satisfied they both were with the arrangement, he’d soon come to accept and even like him a little.

“Yeah, yeah, Dean. So why don’t you tell is what you and your boyfriend have prepared?”

“Not so quick. Master pieces take their time.”

He caught Crowley’s eyes and grinned.

There was every reason to think that the chateaubriand à la Arthur Ketch would win universal approval.

[sprinkleofhappinessuniverse]

Freckles And Feelings - (Dean x Castiel)

Synopsis: Cas has developed a crush on Dean but the only problem is they’ve never spoken and he can’t seem to work up the courage to go up and speak to him. A.k.a. The three times Cas embarrassed himself in front of Dean and the one time he didn’t. 

Pairing: Dean x Castiel)

Word Count: 2,576

Warnings: Light swearing, second hand embarrassment and fluff. 

A/N: thank you @illbeyourgentlemanstory for reading over this for me and for your encouragement💙 I haven’t written these dorks in a long while and I wanted to write something fluffy after the season finale fiasco (which I’m still in denial about).

Cas looked onwards in the queue in the café and spotted Dean, not too far in front of him talking animatedly to Benny and Victor. They seemed to be in their own happy bubble, laughing and joking loudly as Victor pushes Dean. Dean shuffled backwards awkwardly until he was standing directly in the haze the sun cast through the café’s window.

Cas watched as Dean’s green eyes twinkled in the sunlight which also highlighted the light array of freckles that danced across his face. Benny said something - Cas couldn’t hear over the din of patrons and radio music - and Dean’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he broke into wholehearted laugh that gained him a few looks.

Dean was unfairly pretty. It was the conclusion Cas came to every time he saw Dean. He had never actually spoken to Dean, only seeing him around campus, or sitting around in cafés or the library. Cas had no confidence whatsoever to strike up a conversation which led him quietly observing the handsome stranger from afar.

“Yeesh, you’re like a drooling dog.” Cas’ startled out of his thoughts at the sound of Gabriel’s voice and scowled at him. Gabriel gave Cas a knowing smirk before casting a quick look to Dean. Meg looked up from her phone and followed Gabriel’s gaze before turning back to Cas with the same knowing smirk.

“What? See something you like, Clarence.” She said. Cas’s scowl deepened and he sighed.

“Y’know, it’d be a whole lot easier to admit your crush and talk to him than blushing like a twelve year old girl.” Gabriel said, not-so-quietly. Cas rolled his eyes.

“I do not have a crush. Besides the opportunity to speak hasn’t arisen nor do I think it will.” Cas deadpanned. Gabriel smirked again and Cas could tell by the arch of his eyebrows that whatever he was thinking, wouldn’t be good.

Then, Quicker than he could blink, Gabriel slapped the history textbook out of his hands and kicked it along the floor. Cas gasped,  and watched as it slid across the floor and hit Dean’s foot. Dean stopped talking and looked down at the book before looking up at Cas.

Cas, too embarrassed to say anything, blinked back.

“Sorry about my baby bro over here! He can be real clumsy when in the presence of hot gu– Ow!” Gabriel exclaimed once Cas elbowed him in the ribs.

“Why don’t you go over and get your book.” Meg teased. She turned to Dean.  “You don’t don’t bite do you, freckles?”

Dean awkwardly shook his head. Already feeling his face flush Cas walked over to where the book was.

“Uh, here man.” Dean said picking up the book and handing it to Cas.

“I am very sorry about this.” Cas muttered. Dean shrugged and smiled. They locked eyes for a moment before Cas turned his focus to the floor. “Uh, I should…go back to where I was standing in line, because that’s where I was.” He stumbled awkwardly quickly turning away. He had no idea what he was saying and could feel his face flush with embarrassment.

“What the hell was that?” Gabriel said. Cas glared at him and Gabriel pursed his lips knowing better than to tease his brother.

It took everything in Cas’ willpower not to roll his eyes at the haggle of students who had cornered him and were shouting about something or the other. The Theatre society were performing what they called documentary theatre and were set up around campus showing the rest of the university current affairs through the power of theatre. Cas didn’t understand it and wished it didn’t interfere with his simple walk to the library.

Carefully, he maneuvered out of the small crowd and breathed a sigh of relief. His relief was short lived when someone bumped into him causing him to stumble backwards, trip over something lying on the ground and falling, hard. 

“Sorry about that brother.” he heard Benny’s voice say. Benny soon came to view as he felt someone place a hand in his shoulder.

“Woah, you alright, man?” Cas turned his head to the side ready to grumble a response but found his voice hitch a little when he saw who was crouching beside him. Dean. Somehow, he was even prettier up close despite Cas noticing the small imperfections detailing his face. Concern was etched across his face and Cas felt a small tug in his stomach.

“I’m fine.” Cas muttered. Dean nodded and stood up, holding out his hand. Cas took it and heaved himself up. Even Dean’s hand felt nice, especially slotted with his.

A voice worked its way inside his head, chiding him for his thoughts. Dean doesn’t even know him. The sooner he gets over this crush the better.

“You’re the textbook guy!” Benny said breaking Cas away from his thoughts and he immediately felt the embarrassment of Gabriel’s previous interference. Dean now looked at him, with a look of recognition and lips pursed into a small smile. Shyly, Cas nodded.

“Unless your mom had bad naming choices, I’m guessing your name ain’t the textbook guy.” Dean said, still smiling.

“Uh, Castiel. My name is Castiel.” Cas replied quietly,  cringing at his sudden shyness. Dean had a look on his face as though he were considering Cas’ own name and then held out his hand.

“Cool. I’m Dean.” Cas shook his hand, deciding not to mention the fact that he already knew his name due to his countless hours of ‘observing’. Dean’s eyes flickered toward their clasped hands before furrowing his eyebrows. “Dude, I would have just settled for a hand slap or a hi five.”

“My apologies.” Cas said, looking down at his feet. Dean let out a laugh.

“No, It’s cool, man, I liked it.” Dean settled his hand on Cas’ shoulder and he couldn’t help but let out a small smile.

“C’mon Dean, Vic will kick our asses if we leave him waitin’ much longer.” Benny said, already walking away.

“See you later.” Dean said, clapping Cas’ shoulder. Cas stood still smiling. Although embarrassed about falling over and the awkward handshake, Cas decided that Dean’s laugh was one of his favourite sounds.

It had been a few days since Cas’ first encounter with Dean and it was all he could think about. He deliberately didn’t tell Meg and Gabriel knowing he would be subject to their endless teasing, as if he didn’t get teased enough by them.

He walked into the library which was dead quiet, seemingly devoid of students. Cas didn’t mind, he liked the peace. As he walked on further he noticed that he would not be alone after all as he spotted Charlie standing at one of the tables, humming the imperial march theme,  surrounded by large boxes of books.

“Hello Charlie.” Cas greeted, walking beside her. Charlie jumped and let out a little squeak.

“Sorry Cas, I didn’t expect to see you here. As you can see, It’s kinda a ghost town in here.” She said gesturing to the empty library.

“Do you need any help?”

“Yes please. I’ve never been around so many books in my life. I mean, I love books but being around boxes full of them for two hours straight? I’m kinda going crazy.” She huffed, eyes scanning the various boxes. “The boxes should be labelled, just put them in the right section. One of the other volunteers can shelve them.”

Charlie moved to the opposite of the table and started sorting through another pile of books, putting them in the right boxes. Cas picked up a box full of autobiographies and put them at the beginning of the  ‘Non-Fiction’ aisle. He made his way back and went to pick up another box. He was about to make conversation with Charlie when he saw her look up and smirk.

“Sup loser!” She said. Confused Cas furrowed his eyebrows until he heard the scuffle of footsteps behind him, letting him know that Charlie was in fact not calling him a loser. He turned around and of all the students in the university it was Dean that walked in. Backpack slung over one shoulder he smirked.

“Hey nerd.” He greeted back to Charlie before worming his way around the table to hug her. “Hey Castiel.”

“Hello Dean.” Cas replied, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in his stomach.  He picked up another box, this time containing books on animals and nature. As he walked over to the non-fiction aisle he was sure he heard Dean whisper ‘Don't’. Curiosity led him to pause for a few moments however whatever the subject was, was seemingly dropped.

“I got into another heated debate with Garth today.” Charlie said.

“Crap. Did you threaten stab him with your binder this time?” Dean said a hint of amusement in his voice. As Cas walked back over to the table he saw Charlie roll her eyes.

“He claimed that The Incredible Hulk was a better superhero than Batman! In what world does that make sense?”

“The wacky world of Garth. Why were you even arguing with him anyway? The dude pays two dollars for a newspaper, three times a week, just to read the Marmaduke and Garfield comic strips.”

“I know. But he insulted Batman. Dude Batman.”

“C’mere you big baby, it’s okay Bruce Wayne will always remain the superior hero.” Dean teased pulling her into a hug.

“But not as superior as Wonder Woman.” Charlie mumbled. Dean met Cas gaze and shook his head causing Cas to smile.

“Word of advice. Never argue about Superheroes with Charlie especially Wonder Woman.” Dean joked.

“We’re married in an alternate universe.” Charlie mumbled before pulling away, “but seriously Cas who do you think is the more superior hero, Batman or The Incredible Hulk?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

“I am not familiar with either of those character. I haven’t seen the films or read the comics.” Cas murmured. Judging by the looks on Dean and Charlie’s faces this was not the answer they were expecting.

“Dude we need to educate you. You need to watch the Batman films, even Batman and Robin. “ Dean said, a little eagerly. Cas noticed Charlie glancing between the both of them and smirking.

Cas nodded quickly before returning his attention to one of the boxes. The closest one to him was a particularly large one and Cas wasn’t too sure how he was going to move this one. Too shy to ask for help he tried to lift it. He failed. He tried again. He managed to lift one side a little however he didn’t anticipate its weight and when he felt the heaviness in arms he dropped the side he managed to drop the side he was lifting. It fell with a bang causing both Dean and Charlie to jump.

“You need any help buddy?” Dean called out. Cas knew he couldn’t lift this up by himself however his stubbornness got the better of him (and besides he really didn’t want to look weak in front of Dean).

“Nope I’ve got it.’ He proceeded to try and lift again. When he thought he lifted it up successfully he went to move his hand to the other side however as luck would have it, it became really heavy. Cas yanked his hand back and stumbled backwards.

“Woah, lemme help you.” Dean said moving to the other side of the box. Cas felt his cheeks flush.

“I guess I don’t have it after all.” He murmured lifting the other side of the box up. Dean said nothing as the two of them moves the box to the correct section.

“And that’s how I discovered that a pickled chocolate milkshake is the best hangover cure.” Gabriel babbled, shoving a few fried into his mouth. Cas grimaced and was certain that a pickled chocolate milkshake would not cure a hangover.

“Fascinating. That explains where the little brain cells you did have went.” Meg said distastefully. “Have you finally spoken to Freckles yet, Clarence?”

Cas shook his head and avoided her gaze.

“I don’t understand why you have such a massive stick up your ass. Worried he’ll fall in love with this?” Gabriel said, finger circling his face. “I know Meg has.”

“In your dreams sweetheart.” Meg leant over and stole a couple of Gabriel’s fries.

“Here comes loverboy now!” Gabriel piped up nudging Cas. Cas looked up to see Dean walking over to his table smiling.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greeted.  Cas couldn’t help but smile back as Dean used his nickname.

“Hello Dean.” He noticed Gabriel and Meg staring at him. “Uh, would like to sit with us?”

Dean stared at the three of them, looking a little lost.

“Here have a seat. We don’t bite, freckles.” Meg said somewhat patronising, pulling out a chair. Dean frowned but obliged. 

“Uh, it’s Dean.”

“Cute. I didn’t ask.” Meg said bluntly. Cas glared at her.

“So what brings you to this side of the woods Dean-O?” Gabriel asked.

“Uh, I wanted to ask Cas something.”

“You do?” Cas replied, surprised. Dean nodded before awkwardly looking at Meg and Gabriel then back at Cas with a few moments of silence passing.

“Well this is sickening. I’m gonna leave you two lovesick puppies before you start playing kissy face with each other.” Meg said getting up and collecting her garbage. She hit Gabriel on the shoulder. “You too, Sandler.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes but stood up shoving his last few fries in his mouth before collecting his own garbage and throwing into the nearby bin.

“You’re no fun. Catch you later kiddos. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He began to walk away before quickly running back and leaning down in between Dean and Cas and smirking. “Oh and use protection.”

“Bye Clarence. Bye, Dean.” she turned away with Gabriel following. Cas rolled his eyes.

“They seem-”

“Unpleasant. Ignore them .” Cas said picking up his burger. “Meg’s personality is an acquired taste and I’m stuck with Gabriel.”

“You two related or something?”

“He’s my twin brother.”

“And you’re both named after angels?”

“Our mother had an obsession with them. Unfortunately, I can’t get away from him. He’s extremely obnoxious as you saw, but I’ve learned to tolerate him.”

“Yeah, brothers will do that to you.” Dean chuckled.

“Do you have a brother, Dean?”

“Yeah, he’s younger than me. Wants to go to college too. He’s a real nerd. I saw your textbook the other day, you studying History?” Cas nodded.

“Cool. Mechanical engineering right here.” Dean said gesturing to himself. “I drive a Chevy Impala, best damn car you will ever see.” Cas nodded in approval.

“You wanted to ask me something?” Cas said breaking the silence that fell between them.

“Uh, yeah.” Dean fiddled with his hands awkwardly. “Um, I know we haven’t spoken but I like you Cas.”

“You like me?” Cas’ eyes widened.

“Yeah, you seem cool. And I was thinking about what you said how you’ve never seen Batman, which is crazy by the way, and well Charlie wants to hold a movie night, it’d be good if you came.”

“Really?” Cas wasn’t sure he was dreaming. Did Gabriel slip something in his drink?

“Yeah. I’m not really good with this stuff.” Dean said scratching at the table.

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas said placing a hand on his arm. “I’d love to.”

Tags: @saawek @damnandriel-in-hell @aliensliveinspace @awayto-wonderland

@damn-try-again @runtosleepdreamer @readerwriterme @deanissmitten

[the100oneshots]

Mine - Bellamy Blake Imagine (Part 3)

Author’s Note: this one’s pretty lengthy but felt like I couldn’t split it up, so really sorry it’s so long!

Reader x Bellamy Blake

Word Count: 1,827 words

Warnings: minor swearing

You can read part 1 of this story here (Soulmates)

You can read part 2 of this story here (Rescuer)

The walk back to Camp Jaha was a struggle. You hobbled against Bellamy the whole way, even though he persisted he carry you. You tried to look at the earth around you but your body neglected the movement.

You felt the eyes, boring into your presence. You could only imagine what they were thinking. They only bought back one girl? Where is everyone else? You kept your eyes downcast, you couldn’t bare to look at anyone.

Abby Griffin was the first one to rush to your aid. “I know you. Telsa station, right?” She asks and you just nod, you couldn’t bare to speak.  "Anymore survivors?” She looks towards Bellamy. He slowly shakes his head, and you look away. “She came down on Factory. No other survivors, heaps of supplies.” He replies. “We’ll worry about that later, we need to get you to medical. Jackson!” She yells and Jackson rushes out with a wheelchair.

Every bone in your body ached and as Bellamy helped lower you into the chair. There was a feeling you couldn’t describe, but you just wished he would follow you. He was right behind you. Lagging a few paces just to catch up with his sister, but after that he stopped following and there was a heaviness on your heart.

You were laying on the hospital bed whilst Abby treated your wounds. You were bored out of your mind and felt yourself fidgeting. There was barely anyone in medical and you were never one for the attention so the feeling of discomfort in your stomach made you want to puke. "Abby,” you paused for a moment as she glanced your way. “I’m gonna be sick.” You barely get out as she rushed for a bucket. You hadn’t it eaten or hydrated anything in the last 30 hours, yet everything was coming up. Your felt your hair being lifted from your neck as the contents of your stomach proceeded to leave your body. A hand had been rubbing circles along your back and whilst leaning back you just saw who it was. He had come back, rescued again.

"So the cuts may scar, and the bruises will fade, but they will heal eventually. You have a broken rib, which if it decides to cause anymore internal damage then we may have to operate, but I have a feeling it will heal over time. But unfortunately it’ll continue to hurt. Your ankle is luckily only swollen and if you keep off it for a few days it should be fine. I strongly recommend you stay in medical for at least a week until you get the all clear.” You sighed at Abby’s diagnosis, feeling helpless. "Thanks Abby, Jackson.” Bellamy nodded at them as they left for other patients.

“I have to leave you here, I’m sorry.” He said in a hushed tone. “Finn and Murphy, they’re still out there. I have to bring them home.” You nodded, not wanting to be in the way, I mean, you just met him, it’s not like you could dictate his actions. “No, of course. It’s fine. You heard Abby, I’ll be right here when you get back.” You let out a sad sigh which ended in a laugh.

He looked conflicted. He knew how much pain you were in and you didn’t know how much he just wanted to stay by your side, get to know you, have your hands in one another’s. But he felt responsible for the two boys he just let go, and you could tell.

“Bellamy,” you spoke, and he already loved the way you said it. “Go.” you smiled and he nodded standing up from his chair. “Get some rest.” He said as he kissed your forehead, you nodded agreeing. The fact that you knew you were soulmates made it even easier to think of a future, a future together. And you already knew you would fall fast.

Meg and Tiffany we relieved - more so ecstatic - when they were able to visit you once you awoke. “You should’ve seen the way his face switched when I mentioned you. It’s like he had tunnel vision, you the only thing in his sights. It was beautiful to watch.” Meg gushed, always loving a good romantic story. “And we all know you deserve that.” Tiffany chimes in, you give them a small smile, playing with your hands. They both share a glance and look back to you.

“What’s up?” The question was the one knew would be asked, but hoped wasn’t.“Do you think it’s too good to be true?” You met their gaze. “I mean,” You begin to continue. “I don’t care what you mean (Y/N). No.” Tiffany interrupted you, both girls knowing exactly how you were feeling, they were like your sisters. “It’s not too good to be true. You deserve, out of everyone I know, to be happy. You worked your ass off in school, you handle your family situation so well, and you are by far, the nicest, best person I’ve ever met in my life. You deserve happiness and you’re finally getting it.”

"Next rounds on me." Bellamy stood up wanting to leave the awkward encounter between Finn and Clarke. "Bellamy," Clarke stopped him and he really didn't want to be apart of their dispute. "Go be with (Y/N), she's the only person who needs you right now." He nodded walking off into medical, knowing she was right. However, it wouldn't have been her words that made him go, he missed you.

Bellamy walked into medical to see your sleeping figure, he smiled at how beautiful you were. “She’s real tired, I wouldn’t wake her.” Meg said, walking past him with a tray of rations for you to eat once you awoke. “How is she?” He asked genuinely. “She’s tired, a bit broken by the experience, but she’ll bounce back. She always does.” Meg smiled at him. “You can take my shift if you want. We didn’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.” Meg explained, as Bellamy responded, “If you don’t mind.” Bellamy pulled up a chair and sat down, he looked towards you with happiness in his heart. He had found the one. Meg watched on from afar, overjoyed by what she saw, but she knew she had to tell him.

“Look,” she began and his eyebrows furrowed. “This isn’t the talk is it.” He joked, and because Meg laughed, he thought he could probably take this one. “She’s had, a hard childhood to say the least. This is what kept her going, knowing that eventually there’s gonna be someone there that doesn’t judge her or ridicule her. She’ll tell you for what when she’s ready. But I’m worried she’s gonna floor it, and fall for you far too fast than what she’s capable of, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“I’ll catch her when she falls.” Was his response, simple, but it gave Meg her answer. She scoffed a bit and laughed, as Bellamy almost shit himself with the wrong impression. “You two are so cliché and cheesy it’s disgusting. You’re both perfect for each other.” She face palmed walking out, leaving Bellamy with a smile on his face.

In record time, you woke up an hour after Meg and Bellamy exchanged shifts. "I have an idea." He announced whilst you were halfway through your rations. "Feel free to enlighten me on such an idea?"

"It's a surprise." He smiled. "But you're gonna have to get into the wheelchair."

You giggled at the amount of stealth he acted he had trying to wheel you out of medical, out of the ark body without being seen. He wheeled you to a spot behind the ark, and even though it seemed as though it would be a bit difficult, he picked you up with ease and helped you sit down against the metal.

Conversation seemed to flow a lot easier than you thought it would. Yeah sure, you had similar interests but that wasn't why. You just both, clicked. "And to think, we used to be right next to them." You spoke fascinated, your head looking up to the stars in the night sky, his in your direction. "So what did you do, on the Ark?" He asked, taking a swig from the cup. "I was a teacher. I am, still, I think." You laughed, he raised an eyebrow at you. "What?" You laughed off your embarrassment, thinking you'd done something wrong. "You didn't want to rush out the classroom?" He wanted you to continue, generally interested.

"There's so much to learn, whether it's in a book, or through experience. It doesn't just stop in the classroom, however it can progress in one. Taking a class isn't the worst thing someone can do even though your delinquent teenage friends make it out to be." You laugh and his heart thumped a little harder. "What about you?" You moved your gaze towards his face. It took him a while to answer, as he was still looking at you. "I was a guard, then a janitor. And now I guess I'm the leader of a bunch of delinquents." He chuckled, causing you to laugh.

"Why do you think it's taken so long for us to find each other?" He honestly wondered out loud. You never really thought about it. You'd remembered him on the ark, before and after your tattoo appeared. "I dunno, I- just, I guess." You stopped not knowing what to say. You had thought about that exact question so many times, but as you went to answer, your mind went blank.

"I was scared." Bellamy blurted out, and knowing he felt similar feelings made you feel a little better. "Scared? You?" "Terrified.” He replied, never taking his eyes of yours.

“I had to meet the girl I was destined to be with who I wouldn't have known or maybe she wouldn't like me. Someone had been chosen to spend the rest of my life with them so yeah, I had a little bit of anxiety." He openly admitted. "Where you happy with who they chose?" Innocently, the comment came out rather quietly and slipped out before you realised. Awaiting the answer was probably the most nervous you had ever felt in your life.

"More than." He answered, and between the two of you, both weren't able to look away. There was something enticing about being around him. It sounded silly, to feel something like this in the short amount of time. But, to you, it felt like a long time coming. You couldn't help yourself, you felt yourself leaning in. Taken aback, but relieved almost when his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, there was something about this kiss that kept you craving more. His hand came to your cheek and with his soft touch, you relaxed in to it.

Everything you had ever wanted was awaiting you, and you’d never felt happier.

[hollywayblog]

April Soundtrack

Oh boy, so much wonderful new music has come out since my last playlist. It’s like a bunch of my favourite artists got together and decided I deserved a present, and I don’t take it for granted.

April has had me transitioning to more upbeat tracks, a bit of rock, indie pop and good sing-along tunes. I’ve been loving starting my mornings with a good lil dance to prep a good mood for the day. I’m going through a phase of both self-care and intense productivity, so relatable lyrics are great but I don’t want anything too slow or wallowing. I think this collection of songs will do nicely.

While you listen, here are some words about a few standout tracks…

 “Lust for Life” by Lana Del Rey, featuring The Weeknd – I never thought a line as simple and seemingly shallow as “take off all of your clothes” would bring tears to my eyes, but this song is just so sonically beautiful and lyrically soothing that it’s hard to listen without getting emotional. Lana and Abel’s voices are heaven together; I’ve wished since “Prisoner” that they would do an entire album as a duo, but I’ll take what I can get.

Favourite Line – We’re the masters of our own fate // We’re the captains of our own souls

Feels Like – Dancing on the H of the Hollywood sign

 “Hard Times” by Paramore – Paramore haven’t released music since 2013, and clearly there was a good reason for the wait; they’ve reinvented their sound once again and I absolutely love it. This song is relevant, quirky and fun, as is the music video. Hayley and the gang have adopted an 80s pop rock flair that suits them perfectly, and I’m excited to see how that’s manifested on their new album (whose release is hopefully not too far away).

Favourite Line – Hit me with lightning // Maybe I’ll come alive

Feels Like – Everyone fuckin’ gets it

 “The Boys (Acoustic)” by Lisa Mitchell – I’ve never been a huge fan of Lisa Mitchell’s music, but this song, however, makes my heart hurt. It’s the sharpest painting of an Australian suburban summer I’ve ever encountered, coupled with a spare and soft melody that stings with its simplicity.

Favourite Line – The boys buy a case and we sit in the backyard // Our hair and our skin is all salty and starched // The air is soft and reminds me of ending days

Feels Like – Teen train trips to the beach, cruisers on the sand, avoiding the jellyfish

 “Deleted” by Amy Shark – I’m writing this on the heels of Amy’s “Night Thinker” release, so I haven’t had a lot of time to listen or absorb the whole EP, but this track definitely stood out as my favourite off the bat. I’m over the moon to have more Amy Shark in my life.

Favourite Line – I was in a hurry and I never seem to get him alone

Feels Like – Two trains passing in the night, never stopping at the same time

 “Low Blows” by Meg Mac – I think anyone who has had to learn how to stand up for themselves can relate to this song, and with Meg’s soulful pipes and funky vibes, it’s the perfect empowering tune to remind yourself that you’re actually a fuckin’ badass.

Favourite Line – Don’t wanna be anyone again

Feels Like – I deserve better

 “Green Light” by Lorde – Apart from her collaboration with Disclosure, this is the only Lorde song I’ve ever really liked. I adore the sad disco drama that this song embodies. I’m not sure if this means I’m going to like this era of Lorde since I wasn’t a fan of “Liability” but hey, we’ll see what happens.

Favourite Line – Did it frighten you // How we kissed when we danced on the light-up floor?

Feels Like – Teardrops on the dancefloor

 “Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles – Another first for me; I’ve never liked One Direction or Harry Styles, but I decided to give this one a go since everyone was raving about it. This is a good, proper rock ballad with a real and timely message, and I’m optimistic about his solo career if there’s more of this to come.

Favourite Line – You look pretty good down here // But you aint really good

Feels Like – The whole world is stuck in this feeling

[destielisruiningmylife]

It’s Valentine’s Day, and I live for the cheese of it all, so here’s a small fic I wrote!

It’s not really a secret that Castiel hates Valentine’s Day. It’s a ridiculous holiday created by consumerism to make money off of lovesick idiots. So that’s why, when his best friend Hannah asks him to go to a speed dating event on campus on the holiday, he adamantly refuses.

“Hannah, you can’t be serious.”

“As the plague,” she deadpans. “Please? I don’t want to go alone and you’re the only single friend I have who I’d be comfortable going with me.”

Castiel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t just go to a bar and mingle like a normal person, can you?”

“Nope! C’mon, it’ll at least be an interesting time.” He can’t really argue that point. Even if it sucks, it’ll be more interesting than his original plans, which included beer, Netflix, and hanging out with his cat.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Castiel says, and heads to the registration table, Hannah following closely behind. On the table is a sign that reads: NO PREFERENCE SPEED DATING - GET MATCHED WITH ANYONE! Castiel turns and narrows his eyes at Hannah. “This was sneaky of you.”

Shrugging, she comes up beside him and starts filling out the registration paper. It’s just a sheet to have people agree not to do anything inappropriate or discriminatory during the evening. There would be 10 rounds at 6 minutes each. At the end of the hour there will be casual mingling, with snacks provided. Of all the things Castiel has seen the student life committee put on, this is certainly well-planned and creative.

He looks out at the sea of people and wonders how the hell this is going to work. Someone taps him on the shoulder to get his attention; it’s one of the girls at the registration table. Her name tag says Becky.

“Hi! Here’s your registration number - just remember it, you don’t have to pin it anywhere.” She hands Castiel a slip of paper. “You’re going to start at table 7 and work your way to table 16. The people across from you will be working their way the opposite direction, so you’ll get someone new each time!”

Castiel thanks her and walks towards his first table. All of them are small round tables, settled pretty closely together and with two chairs on either side. The table marked with a seven is vacant for the time being on the other side. However, beside Castiel at table 8, is a fidgety man with light brown hair and a flannel overshirt on. A leather jacket is draped over the back of his chair. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. Something they both have in common.

“Hey,” Castiel says, giving a small wave to the man, “I’m Castiel. Were you dragged here against your will as well?”

The man chuckles, turning to face him. “My brother. He just couldn’t come to terms with me sitting at home alone when perfectly good torture sessions are going on right here on campus. I’m Dean, nice to meet you, Cas…Cast-eel?”

Castiel laughs, shaking his hand. “Castiel. But you can call me Cas.”

“Cool.” Dean smiles, and Cas feels an oh no moment coming on. The man is sinfully attractive.

Just then, a woman sits down at the seat in front of him and a man with at least four days of scruff taps a microphone by the registration table. “Is this thing on? Oh, good. Hi, everyone! Welcome to speed dating, we’re going to get started here. Everyone has six minutes to talk to their partner and when the timer goes off, everyone will move to their left. After the third switch, we’ll have a five minute break.” The man leans away from the microphone to say something to Becky and then brings it back to his face. “Ready? Go!”

It’s a flurry of activity after that. Everyone starts talking quickly and Cas decides to just give in. For the first three partners, he’s talking to women, all seemingly nice and interested in Cas until he drops the bomb that he’s actually gay and his friend asked him to come. The first two react well, just saying it’s fine and continuing pleasant conversation until time is up. It isn’t until the third woman, Meg, that he encounters an issue.

“You’re gay?” she asks flatly. She blows a gum bubble and crosses her arms. “You don’t look gay.”

Cas bounces his leg nervously. “Uh, sorry?”

“You just seem, like, at least bisexual. You’re an attractive guy.”

Now he’s a little pissed off. “I can assure you, I’m not interested.” He sees Dean out of the corner of his eye look over at him but he doesn’t acknowledge him. “And I would appreciate it if we didn’t talk anymore and simply waited out the rest of the time.” She raises her hands defensively, rolling her eyes, and sits back.

It was an excruciating long 5 minutes or so and Cas almost decides to leave. He gets his phone out and tries to distract himself by going through his Facebook feed, but it doesn’t help much. When the timer goes off, he exhales in relief and Meg stands and walks away with a sour look on her face.

Dean reaches over and touches his arm. “Hey, man, you okay?”

He nods and gives Dean a tight smile. “Yeah. Just a little annoyed. It was bound to happen eventually.” Cas looks at his watch and sighs. “I really don’t know if I can do three more rounds of this. I hate it.”

Chuckling, Dean nodded. “I feel you there, dude. I’ve thought about leaving, too.”

Tilting his head, he indulges in a closer look at Dean. He’s been nothing but nice to him since he sat down, and if he’s being honest with himself, Cas would prefer his company over any of the other strangers. “Do you want to go on a walk around the student center while we wait for my friend and your brother to be done with this? If both of us leave, at least the two who won’t have partners will have each other to talk to.”

“Absolutely.”

Cas sends a quick text to Hannah, since he can’t see her, and Dean does the same for his brother. They head out and take a leisurely walk through the halls.

“I still can’t believe that girl said that to you.”

“Eh,” Cas says, shrugging, “it is what it is.”

“I wanted to tell her that even I, a bisexual, wasn’t interested in someone who treats people like that.”

Cas parts his lips in surprise and then grins. “I’m sure that would have pissed her off. An attractive man like you turning her down? Would have been priceless.”

He nudges his shoulder into Castiel’s. “You think I’m attractive?”

Slowing to a stop, Cas laughs so hard he has to brace himself with his hands on his knees. “Have you looked in a mirror?”

Dean rolls his eyes and pushes his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

They talk for a while, long enough that Hannah texts Cas to let him know she’s going on a date with someone from the speed dating event.

As he’s replying, Dean lets out a surprised huff while looking down at his phone. Cas looks at him questioningly and Dean smiles. “Apparently Sam found a date.”

“So did Hannah.”

They both look at each other, eyes narrowed. “You don’t think…”

“It’s possible.”

Dean shakes his head and puts his phone away. “Well… do you, um.”

Cas bites his lip and takes Dean’s hand in his. “Let’s go watch a movie or something.” Dean lights up and nods.

They decide on driving to the local theater for a flashback cinema showing of Sleepless in Seattle. Dean argues that it’s hardly a “flashback” but Cas argues that it doesn’t really matter.

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

Cas just looks at him and when the lights go down, he leans over and kisses Dean on the cheek. “I’m glad I met you,” he whispers.

Dean grabs his hand and twines their fingers. “Me too, Cas.” He leans in and captures Cas’ lips with his own and Cas hopes he now understands why it doesn’t matter what movie they’re watching.

They don’t watch any of it.