#instead of occupying the middle like a big guy might be more inclined to do

[jamevaa]

I love how the full brunt of Sam's rage runs completely frozen, as opposed to how Dean flares up. Everything is obsessively even and symmetrical. He practically made art out of his weapon storage, ffs. His guns are ordered by size, in addition to being mirrored.

Just look at that wall. He used the wall tiles as guides. The map is occupying equal sections of squares; papers are all level, with even margins. And it's over the bed, of all places, hard to access and where normally you'd hang artwork or something.

The books on the table are squared and aligned with the binder edges. The hand towel in the bathroom is folded in precise thirds and hung exactly in the middle. No housekeeping will have stepped into this room either, not with that wall, so we know that's all Sam.

The more I watch this scene, the more I applaud set design for nailing the details. It shows a fascinating opposition in their characters, but also how they need to be together to be human. When separated, it's like they each only have one half of the human condition, and they need to be together to be whole and functional.

[stupendousaestheticfoodrascal]

The Call of the Dark

    “She’s beautiful, don't you think?”, said the stout man. His face was pale, but not the kind of paleness you see when someone is ill. It was the kind of pale a person obtains naturally, as though from birth. Despite his paleness, his face shone bright and somehow the very prominent freckles on his face became even more visible, there was a faint twinkle in his eyes, and if you didn't pay attention, even for a second, you would miss it. With the way he looked, you would guess he had just won the lottery. “I met her at this very coffee shop a few months ago and we really hit it off! I never thought I would find someone who was into a lot of the stuff I liked, well excluding you of course”. 

    He looked right at me, to make sure what he said hadn't made me upset. It didn't of course, but he didn't need to know that. “Oh how miserable I am, to find out my good friend Chase has found another, and now I will be left all on my own to deal with my sorrows”, I spoke, with just a hint of mischief in my voice. He certainly did not find it funny but I found it to be hilarious, to the point I burst out laughing, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Before I knew it, Chase had joined in on the laughter and whatever tension was present had cleared from the air. “It really is nice to see you again and I’m glad you’ve finally found your special someone”. A light pink dusted his cheeks at what I assumed to be my little comment. “Enough about me, I want to know what’s going on with you Mr. Mysterious”. 

     I had taken note of the newly designated nickname, although I knew the reasoning behind it. “I can’t say a lot really happened, my life isn't exactly thrilling”. I took a sip of my coffee, it was caramel macchiato, my favourite, her favourite. I shook my head to get rid of the thought and instead took in the familiar view of the shop. It was rather small, and not heavily decorated except for a few advertisement posters plastered on the wall, the top half of the wall was a deep brown colour (rather typical for a coffee shop) while the lower bottom of the walls were plain white. 

     There were five circular spruce wood tables each with two chairs at the centre of the shop while the corners were occupied by booth tables for anyone who might decide to have coffee with a large group of friends. On the opposite side of the shop was the counter, where people got their orders. The counter itself was coloured just like the wall, white and brown, except they chose to incorporate the colour white as the name of the shop ‘Latte Love’. I had always made it a point to mention it to everyone I knew that I never liked that name, there really was nothing to love about their latte’s. Even with all my complaints, I still managed to come to this coffee shop every morning at the same time, to order the same drink. I turned my head as I noticed something unfamiliar had caught my attention. 

     A looming shadow stood at the corner of the shop. I couldn’t quite make out it’s figure but it looked and felt like pure darkness, emphasis on felt. The figure began to step closer to me and the closer it came, the more I could feel it trying to consume me. I was called out of my state by a question from the man sitting in front of me. “Earth to Malcolm, I said do you plan on coming to the game tonight?”, he said while waving a hand in front of me. “Yeah sure”, I said, while not knowing what he was referring to. “Great! I think this is a great time for you to finally meet her!”. Her? The confusion was clear on my face, evident by the question he followed up with, “Oh no, don't tell me you forgot”, he said, disappointment clearly laced in his tone. 

     “No?” “I set you up to meet a lady friend of mine, we agreed that you guys would meet at the game this Saturday?” “WHAT?” “What do you mean ‘what’, you totally agreed to this?!” “I have no memory of anything of the sorts”, I huffed. “Well it doesn’t matter now because you HAVE to go. My friend already expects you to be there and I can't have her thinking ``I'm friends with a jerk” “Well I don’t care what your friend thinks” ''Come on, it’s just this time, maybe try out your luck? If you don't like her then you don’t have to see her again, what do you have to lose?” “Fine, I’ll go, but I'm not promising anything” “Great dude! Make sure to come at 2pm, not a moment later” “Yeah yeah”. 

     I woke up to an intense pounding in my head, stretching down towards the upper nape of my neck. It felt like a hammer had somehow found its way to my skull in the middle of the night and unleashed all its fury on my poor unsuspecting head. This pain was something I had become familiar with as of late. It happened again. I had the dream again. After having this happen to me for two months straight, it had become something I was used to. I just casually went about most of my days with a nausea inducing headache. Although this headache was particularly fearsome, I knew the reason why. 

     I had gone on a different route after my little meet up with Chase at the coffee shop. What I hadn't realised was that this new path was not new at all. It was very familiar but I couldn’t reason as to why I felt it was. It was of no importance now, I had to get ready for the game, for my date. It was going to be particularly difficult pretending I was excited to be there, especially with a splitting headache. I had already planned how I was going to break it off. I would tell her how great a time I had but say I wasn't looking for anything right now or something like that.

     It didn’t really matter what I said as long as she understood that I wasn't interested. I stood up from my messy bright yellow twin bed. It was ironic really, that someone as miserable as me would own something that was often seen as a symbol of joy. I looked at myself in the mirror right across from my bed. I looked… awful. I had refrained from looking at myself in the mirror and now I remembered why. I was a tidy person by nature but in recent times I had neglected myself, and it was… evident. My thick, black, tightly curled hair was dreadfully matted from the lack of combing. I had also developed a bushy beard and a subtle mustache. My skin was ashy and my lips were cracked, it was getting colder, no surprise as winter was just around the corner. 

     I hadn’t been to the gym in months and whatever sign of being fit I had, was nowhere to be seen. In other words I had gained a considerable amount of weight. My eyes looked drained and tired and the bags under them looked more prominent than ever. I knew that if I was going to be meeting someone new, even if I wasn’t interested in keeping ties, that I had to look decent. I tidied myself up and got dressed. I chose to wear a plain blue shirt and some trousers. I didn’t feel the need to dress up since it was just a ball game. It was 1:30pm and I needed to be on my way. The sooner I got there the sooner I could hopefully leave. I got into my very run down red Toyota and made my way to the game. Thoughts were swirling in my head, memories were resurfacing, but I shoved them all down as I parked my car. I took a deep breath and made my way to the game. 

     I saw Chase, his girlfriend and someone else sitting next to him, the person I assumed to be his friend. She sat nervously, darting her eyes from one direction to another, until her eyes finally settled on me, I flinched as I realised we made eye contact. I waved nervously and she waved back, just as nervous. But what I couldn’t understand was why I was nervous. That didn’t matter, I had a plan and I had to stick to it. I walked up to the bleachers where the other baseball enthusiasts sat, making sure not to sit too close to the girl. I didn’t want to send the wrong message. “Hi, I’m Anne, nice to meet you”, she said. “It’s my first time going on a date in a long time, I’m kind of nervous”. “Interesting, so she’s more or less in the same situation as me”, I whispered. “Well, I’m Malcolm and it’s nice to meet you too”, I said with a slightly forced smile. 

     The announcer made note of the start of the game, if there was something I had observed from coming here it was that the girl, Anne, was a very big sport enthusiast and other than that she was… pretty. Although I had acknowledged I wanted there to be nothing between us, it would be silly to deny that fact. She was rather short compared to me, this I knew from whenever she would jolt up from her seat at a moment of intensity in the game. She was dark skinned, just like me and had long thick afro hair neatly bunched to the back allowing you to see her face. She was well built but more on the slim side. Her eyes were the most prominent part of her face, they were big and full of emotion, and the emotion right at that moment was excitement. 

     The team she was rooting for was on their way to victory with only a few minutes of the game left, they had the victory in the palm of their hands. One advantage of having a date at a baseball game with someone who is passionate about the sport is that you don't have to bother with talking to the other person, they just do their own thing and you do yours. She was so captivated by the game it was like she had forgotten she was actually here on a date with me, she would occasionally sneak in a few questions on what I thought of the game. I always gave a brief simple answer and she would go back to being completely engrossed in the game. I admitted it was nice not having to feel inclined to respond, or having to fill in the silence when no one was saying anything. 

     The game finally came to an end and people began leaving the stadium. I rehearsed my lines ready to tell her I wasn’t interested but to my surprise she turned to me and spoke right before I could get a word out. “Look, you're probably a great guy and I had a great time but I don’t think I’m really interested in you that way, no hard feelings?”. An unlikely turn of events, the girl I was supposed to let down easy was the one turning me down? It offered an easy way out but I would have preferred if I wasn’t on the receiving end of a ‘rejection’. “That’s fine, I actually feel the same way, I’m honestly glad you said that, I didn’t want to have to hurt your feelings or anything” “I’m glad we agree, I think it’s about time I leave, it was nice meeting you Malcolm” “You too”. 

     There it was again, that feeling of familiarity, like this exact thing or something familiar had happened to me. I could feel a wave of emotion re-surfacing from the depths of my being. I saw the dark figure again, standing next to the bleachers, this time just staring at me, as if to try and tell me something. And then I remembered.

Laughter. We were on our way back from a restaurant, it had gone great. I was going to propose, I wanted it to be private, just the two of us. We headed down an alleyway. Bang Bang. We heard it and tried to run. Bang Bang. 

     The sound was getting closer, I was terrified something horrible would happen and more so to her. We made it to the end of the alleyway but they cornered us, they said they couldn’t let us go. I tried to take them down but they threatened to shoot. And they did, but not me. They shot her instead, there was a lot of blood, I was mortified, police sirens were blaring, the shooter and his accomplice ran away. I tried to get help but no one was listening, they were too focused on the criminal. She died in my arms. It wasn’t fair. I could feel all the emotions of that day resurfacing, I had to leave as soon as possible. I couldn't be here. I rushed to my car and sped home. I rushed inside and rummaged around for my meds, I fumbled around for the container, I found it, although I had trouble opening it because I was trembling. I opened the cap and dumped the meds into my hand, I took them, more than I should have, I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to feel this anymore. And soon enough, the drugs started taking effect and I started to feel better, although I could still see the mysterious shadow at the corner of my room, it didn’t do anything, it didn’t even try to approach me, almost like it couldn’t. As long as it didn’t do anything I didn’t have a problem. It would either leave on its own or I would get used to it. I collapsed on my bed and let out a heavy sigh. The day didn’t go horribly but it wasn’t great either. I had almost had a meltdown in front of a lot of people, something I would much prefer to avoid. I needed to get rest, I had work in the morning and it would be better if I could actually function when I got there.

     I could see the faint shimmer of the sun peeking through my window. It was morning and I hadn’t slept a wink. I couldn’t sleep, less because of the fact that I had overdosed on my meds and more because the mysterious shadow hadn’t left me since the day at the ball game. I got up and began to get ready for work. It was obvious I hadn’t slept, both visually and from the way I felt. I could hardly move and I looked half-dead. I just hoped my boss wouldn’t cause a fuss as I believed I could still get work done, but probably at a slower pace and a few mistakes here and there. As an accountant, mistakes aren’t exactly welcome and neither is wasting time but I'm sure I could survive a day of scolding from my boss.

     “You’re fired!”. The door to the office slammed shut and I stood there, dumbfounded. I didn’t have a job anymore. According to my boss, I wasn’t working at company standard anymore and I had caused a lot of losses with my mistakes. I had figured he would be angry but I never expected to have gotten fired. Then it dawned on me, my mother. How was I going to pay for her meds if I didn’t have a job? It felt like my world was spiraling into some horrible dark abyss of despair. She was all I had left and the thought of losing her was too much for me to handle. Soon enough I wouldn’t be able to cover rent, and I would get kicked out, my mother would get horribly sick and it would all be over for me and her. I was panicking to say the least. I tried to regain my composure, at least until I was in the privacy of my home. I needed to find a job fast. I made my way back home and slumped on my bed. Ding. A message from my phone, my mum asking me to send money for this week's meds. I had to send her some money from my emergency funds, I really needed to get searching. I looked at the corner of my room and sure enough it was there, but it seemed to have gotten larger and more terrifying. Great, another thing I had to deal with, well not really, since it wasn’t exactly doing anything.

     Weeks had gone by, I had tried everything but I couldn’t find another job. Mum was getting worse, she didn’t have her meds anymore and her illness was catching up to her. I knew she didn’t have much time so I tried to see her, but she didn’t want me anywhere near her. She didn’t want me to see her so sick and I’m sure she wouldn’t be thrilled to see me looking so unlively right now. All my friends were getting worried, I hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks and they wanted to make sure I was okay. I couldn’t tell them the truth, they would fuss over it, or they wouldn’t understand and I couldn’t lie to them either, they didn’t deserve that. It was easier to just cut off all ties. Yes. The only company I had was the looming shadow. Over the past few weeks I had almost grown to like its presence. It was comforting in a way, just having it stand there and watch me, it never approached me, something I preferred, never asked me questions, never worried about me, just stared at me and I liked it that way. I had also stopped taking my medication as they had run out so maybe that was another contributing factor. I talked to the figure occasionally, it was the shadow that told me to stop talking to my friends, anytime it had something it wanted me to do, it wouldn’t stop repeating it until I did what it said, so as long as I listened it didn’t annoy me much. It had tried and succeeded to hurt me a few times but I never complained. I didn’t want it to leave so I never said anything that might cause it to depart from me. It would soon be just the two of us.

     I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, I didn’t think I would receive calls anymore after I had pretty much cut off connections with my friends. I looked at my phone and saw that it was an unknown number. I cut the call but they kept persisting, I reluctantly answered the call. “Who is this, and why are you bothering me” “Is this Malcom Forman?” “Yes, now what do you want?!” “I’m sorry to inform you that your mother passed away a few hours ago in her sleep” “Oh… thank you for calling me, goodbye”. I cried. Even though I knew it would happen eventually, I still cried, I couldn’t - no I wouldn’t believe it was possible. I had failed my mother, my friends, myself. I was worthless. Even through my tears I could still see the shadow, it didn’t even have a face but it almost looked as though it was… smiling? I certainly hadn’t said anything funny. I was so intrigued by it that I had stopped crying. 

I stopped to look at the mysterious creature. Whatever smile was present had vanished. The creature came closer to me, but the air around it felt different. Every fibre of my being told me to run but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to run. I sat on my bed as it slowly approached me, until everything around me was enveloped in darkness. There was nothing else there, even the mysterious shadow creature was gone. If you  think about it, it's rather poetic. My life just like everyone else's began in darkness and now it ends with darkness once again.

[headoverhiddles]

I'm not that previous anon but maybe Gafou smut???

Here ya are, my friend :) Taken from my Gafou collection on ao3. 

Gaston was in his element.

Parties like these were where he could simultaneously show off and get hammered, a rather fun combination for a Friday night. He was currently doing both, chugging a beer down while holding Paulette, captain of the cheerleading team, up on his shoulder. As Gaston finished the can and crushed it in his fist, his peers cheered, and Paulette giggled, draping herself further over him as he set her down.

“You’re soooo strong,” she bit her lip, tugging on the lapel of his shirt, “I bet you’re pretty big under that shirt.”

“I’m big in other places too,” Gaston winked, picking her up as she squealed out another flirty giggle.

Meanwhile, Lefou, widely popular theatre kid, pulled Claudette aside onto the couch, steadying the tipsy cheerleader. He had the ulterior motive of all ulterior motives… and he was usually very good at exercising such a plan.

“See your sister over there?” Lefou whispered, pointing to where Paulette was basically devouring Gaston.

“Mhmm,” Claudette frowned, crossing her arms.

“There’s about a ninety-eight percent chance she’s going to get fucked by Gaston tonight,” Lefou confessed, feigning sympathy, “I mean, just look at her. Practically throwing herself at him!”

“Whore,” Claudette muttered, hiccupping.

“Unless…” Lefou scratched his chin nonchalantly, sighing.

“Unless?” Claudette frowned.

“You stop her.”

Claudette’s eyes widened, and she stood up. “You’re right! Leffy, you’re amazing.”

“Yeah,” Lefou sipped his beer, “I know.” He watched with a smirk as Claudette stormed over to her sister, knowing his work was almost finished. One more to get rid of…

“Oh, Laurette?” he called with a little trill, and the last sister stumbled over with a hazy grin.

“Yeah?”

“I heard Gaston wanted to take you upstairs, but your sisters over there? They told me they’re plotting to steal him from you for a threesome.”

“Bitches!” Laurette spat, and shoved her vodka into someone’s hands as she stomped over, prepared to rain hellfire on her sisters’ heads and- most importantly- distract them.

As the three brunettes were fighting, Lefou coughed, stood up, and leaned into his fellow theatre student. “Hey, Stan- you might wanna take your little sisters home before they kill each other.”

Stanley whipped around from where he was seducing some freshman, and nearly tripped as he rushed to remove a vase from Laurette’s hands that she was about to break over Paulette’s head. Lefou wrung out his hands.

Now… with them out of the way…

Gaston settled into an armchair as he watched the brunette sophomores fight over him. He enjoyed this kind of attention… though honestly, all of his showing off wasn’t for them- or any other cheerleader for that matter. There was one boy that Gaston had never actually made the move to take out or even really talk to, someone he really shouldn’t be attracted to.

But he was.

Ever since that evening he had “accidentally” happened upon the school musical instead of the school’s athletic banquet, and he had seen Lefou as the star… Gaston bit his lip as he remembered the talented drama student, prancing around the stage and declaring his love through song for someone that was not him, and how sad he felt at that fact.  

Now, here Lefou was tonight at Dick’s house party, looking every bit the sexy, confident little guy that he was, and it made Gaston mad. He wasn’t used to having to reach out and flirt with someone… usually, everyone just came to him, begging for his attention. Yes, this guy always seemed a little nervous around him and in awe of his presence, but he had never explicitly come out and told Gaston how incredibly hot he was.

Gaston let out a huff, his good mood now slightly soured as he crushed another beer can. Did he have to do all the work?

He finally got bored with watching the triplets tearing each other apart, and got up from his seat, going to get some more beer from the kitchen. As he did, Lefou watched, and followed through the crowd of rowdy teenagers. They both went in, and poured themselves something. Lucas was in there making out with Justine, and Tom was filming Dick, who was passed out with dicks painted all over his face in whipped cream.

“Hey Lucas,” Lefou nodded at the couple, “How’s your girlfriend, Marie?”

Lucas’ eyes widened, and he got a slap from Justine, who stormed away as Lucas chased her, glaring at Lefou for exposing him. Lefou just laughed, and Gaston cleared his throat as he recognized the other’s presence.

“Hi,” he said, and Lefou feigned surprise at the interaction.

“Hey. You having a good night?”

“Yes, I am,” Gaston nodded, “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I could say the same for you,” Lefou laughed.

“If you’re talking about the girls, I have little to no interest in them,” Gaston scoffed, “It’s simply entertaining to watch them fight over me.”

“Must be nice,” Lefou nodded, “Having someone fight over you.” Gaston jerked his head over.

Please, he wanted to say, you must have hundreds falling all over you, with a voice like yours… face like yours…

But all he said was, “Yes, it is.”

Lefou nodded again, and took a sip of his vodka. “How do you know Dick? Or do you? I mean, most of these people just invite themselves to these things, so…”

“Tom and Dick both know me from middle school,” Gaston told Lefou, “They used to be my, eh…”

“Groupies?” Lefou smirked. Gaston smiled, puffing his chest out a little.  

“Well, yes.”

“And now they’re my groupies,” Lefou kept on smirking, and Gaston’s eyes went back to the shorter boy’s. He certainly was confident… it ignited something in Gaston. This guy wasn’t boring, like the rest of them. He was different.

“Do you…”

“Wanna…?” Lefou continued.

“Go upstairs?” Gaston asked, licking his lips. Lefou raised an eyebrow.

“What kinda guy do you think I am?” he teased, and Gaston inhaled sharply, coaxing a gentle hand onto Lefou’s shoulder, down to the curve of his full hips.

“Someone who’s wanted me for a while.” He didn’t know for certain if that was even true, but it was worth a shot.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Lefou whispered, though Gaston was right- the football player could tell by the way the theatre student inclined himself into the taller of the two.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Gaston promised with a haughty grin.

“I’m sure I won’t,” Lefou volleyed back, flickering his gaze down to Gaston’s trousers.

“I want to feel you underneath me,” Gaston told Lefou, whispering it in his ear, and Lefou could feel himself being pressed back against the kitchen counter. He let out a low moan.

Mission accomplished.

“Upstairs then,” Gaston murmured, and took Lefou’s wrist, silently congratulating himself for winning Lefou’s attentions. Well, of course he did. He won everyone’s.

“I’m going to slice off all your hair!” Claudette was yelling as they passed.

“Well, I’m going to drop brown dye onto all your dresses, so it looks like you’re covered in shit!” Paulette screamed.

“I’m going to rub water proof mascara all over your legs while you’re sleeping so it looks like you’ve got… like… really hairy legs!” Laurette screamed.

“I’m going to lock all of you in the basement and have Dick throw away the key if you don’t come with me right now!” Stanley shouted over them, pulling at his hair in exasperation, “Mon dieu, I was well on my way to getting laid…”

Lefou snorted a little as they passed to the stairs, and Gaston led them further up to the last room on the right. Thankfully, it wasn’t occupied.

Lefou took a look at Gaston, and sat on the bed. “How do you even know I exist?” he asked suddenly, eyes downcast. “I mean… I thought I’d have to come to you.”

“You’re pretty well liked,” Gaston told him, already removing his shirt. “Of course I know who you are.” Lefou sucked in a breath at the sight of Gaston shirtless. He had a good amount of hair on his chest- more than most their age- and he was chiselled.

“You must go to the gym every day,” Lefou muttered, almost drooling. Gaston gave a cocky smile, inadvertently flexing a little.

“I’m an intimidating specimen, I’ll admit,” he grinned, and dodged a pillow Lefou threw at him.

“Get down here and get on top of me, Hercules,” Lefou grinned right back, starting to remove his pants. Gaston helped him with taking the rest off, and began to suck marks into Lefou’s thighs, climbing until he made it to the chubbier boy’s boxers.

“Ahh,” Lefou moaned, the breathy noise making Gaston’s already interested cock twitch. He wanted to be in Lefou, but he wasn’t sure what Lefou wanted…

“Just…” he coughed, sitting back on his heels on the bed, “Just top stuff?”

“Fuck,” Lefou groaned, “Unless you’ve got condoms… um, I guess.”

Gaston nodded, obviously disappointed, but Lefou sat up a little, successfully taking off his shirt and dropping it.

“Hey… we can do this again.”

Gaston stared at him with an almost unreadable look, seemingly speechless, and all of Lefou’s awkward nerves and insecurities he had managed to repress from middle school and early high school began to resurface.

“Unless… unless you don’t want to. Sorry. I’ve been a lot of people’s one night stands, I know how it is-”

“Lefou,” Gaston interrupted, waving this away, “No, I… was simply taken aback by your body.”

“Oh…” Lefou blushed, “Well, that’s… refreshing.” Gaston responded by giving an animalistic growl, and knocking Lefou on his back into the pillows, climbing over top of him and pinning his wrists. Staring up at Gaston, who looked ready to attack him, Lefou got shivers… too quickly, they found their hands on each other’s erections, eagerly groping each other through a deep kiss, groaning each others’ names.

They had barely spoken before tonight… funny what alcohol and a little courage can do for a guy. Using the precum between them, they pumped each other until they were a slick mess, raging hard-ons throbbing between heaving bodies.

“Gaston, that’s…” Lefou gasped, wrapping his legs around the quarterback’s ass, “That’s so good, I need… ahh…”

“So close,” Gaston hissed, and if he had been a little more sober, he probably would’ve been embarrassed for being ready to finish so soon, but he couldn’t give a damn tonight, as Lefou also looked ready to combust at any moment.

“Oh… ohh, please,” Lefou babbled, “Please, so close, please, oh my god, don’t stop… Gast… Gastoooon….”

“You’re chatty in bed,” Gaston growled, “Let’s fix that.” He enveloped Lefou’s lips again, and the passionate and sudden contact made Lefou let out a garbled shriek and come hard in Gaston’s fist. Feeling the shorter man’s release paint his fingers, Gaston also gave a low gasp into Lefou’s shoulder, and pumped his own cock with Lefou’s, finishing hard with him.

“Holy shit,” Lefou breathed loudly, “Please, please, I am begging you… we’re doing Taboo as our spring musical…”

Gaston quirked his head down at his companion in confusion. “And?”

“And Stanley’s playing George… I’m playing Leigh… Gaston, you’ve gotta try out for the part of Billy…”

“Why…?” Gaston continued to frown, breathing heavily, inches apart from Lefou’s lips.

“So that we can have kinky backstage sex every Tuesday and Thursday after school,” Lefou giggled.

“Well…” Gaston murmured, considering how much attention he would get for a performance, “I am a wonderful singer, I’ll admit.” Lefou clapped with a grin, and surged up to kiss the bulkier young man on top of him. Gaston had to smile through the kiss. There was a lot more to this snarky little theatre kid than he thought.

Just then, the door burst open.

“What the fuck are you two doing in my room?” Dick complained, rubbing his head, and Gaston suppressed a loud laugh as he surveyed their friend’s vandalised visage.

“Go check the mirror, Dick.”

“Wha..?” he murmured, then let out a loud scream as he checked in the bathroom, sprinting down the stairs to completely murder Tom.

[starkcontrasts]

"the full brunt of Sam's rage runs completely frozen, as opposed to how Dean flares up."

smth smth lucifer talking abt how he runs cold vs. michael repeatedly depicted with a flaming sword

sam and dean really taking that true vesselhood to a whole different level

I love how the full brunt of Sam's rage runs completely frozen, as opposed to how Dean flares up. Everything is obsessively even and symmetrical. He practically made art out of his weapon storage, ffs. His guns are ordered by size, in addition to being mirrored.

Just look at that wall. He used the wall tiles as guides. The map is occupying equal sections of squares; papers are all level, with even margins. And it's over the bed, of all places, hard to access and where normally you'd hang artwork or something.

The books on the table are squared and aligned with the binder edges. The hand towel in the bathroom is folded in precise thirds and hung exactly in the middle. No housekeeping will have stepped into this room either, not with that wall, so we know that's all Sam.

The more I watch this scene, the more I applaud set design for nailing the details. It shows a fascinating opposition in their characters, but also how they need to be together to be human. When separated, it's like they each only have one half of the human condition, and they need to be together to be whole and functional.