#like believe in the power of being hot and depressed all you want but him being built like a square makes more sense

[0l-unreliable]

ramblings on twinyard body types

I think if you look at how I draw the foxes and ravens, there is the possibility of misconstruing the reasoning behind their body types as something strictly 'sexy' or 'diverse' or what have you. But I really truly do try to reason out their bodies, and they are sexily diverse because that's just how people are.

The reason I was thinking about this was because of how I draw the Twinyards vs how I see others draw them. It makes me feel like I'm treating non-thin bodies as something to ogle and fetishize for the explicit reason that they are 'larger'. But I draw them that way because to me it makes the most sense for them to look that way. So they are attractive not because they aren't skinny, but because they ARE hot (in my head, everyone has at least one attractive/pretty/wonderful thing about them).

To me, Andrew and Aaron are chubby. Not considering muscle or diet or exercise or whatever, to me their healthy weight is 'chubby' (though this chubbiness can also be linked to their height) like I drew below.

But adding in lifestyle, diet, Exy roles, statistics (with Andrew being The Goalie of all time and Aaron constantly working fluidly with Matt on court) health standards, goddamn feelings about Exy I cannot see them as anything but tiny brick shithouses. They are packed with muscle, they just have to be. Andrew especially. And over that muscle is fat, because that's how real strong bodies look/are and because the Twinyards don't give a shit about being healthy. They drink, smoke, eat like fuck, they don't care! At the end of the day if their body does what it needs to that's a job well done. For freak's sake THREE people had to hold Andrew down at Kathy's show!

And absolutely none of this is to say fat=unhealthy, there is just no way they can be shredded twinks. not to me. Obviously, if that is how you see them I'm not kicking your ass about it, but my early easter post has got me feelin' like a freak who objectifies non-skinny people instead of a freak who objectifies blonde guys.

Anyways muscle Minyards 5-ever 🧡

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Hi babies! I hope you're doing amazing! I love writing this story i feel alive after months of depression lol. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)

Warnings; None.. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.291K

Chapter 4

Chapter Three – ''Caught in the Web''

The throne room was spinning under her feet, she felt the sudden rush of hot air on her body. No one dared to speak, one could hear the birds outside singing in harmony. Y/N’s alerted eyes found Pyramus, he seemed in shock and quietly left the throne room. Y/N looked at her parents pleadingly, Leto’s brown eyes were fixed on the Emperor, Jessica had a victorious smile and it dawned on her.

This was planned.

 ‘’Rise young warrior.’’ Shaddam’s voice was heard. ‘’Do parents of Lady Y/N object to this offer?’’

Entire room held its breath. ‘’No, Emperor.’’  Leto answered on the behalf of his house, it broke Y/N’s heart into million pieces. ‘’Not here.’’ she whispered to herself, she couldn’t burst into tears in front of important people and show weakness.

‘’So it is done. Paul Atreides shall take my daughter as wife and you, young warrior Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen shall take Lady Y/N Atreides as your wife.’’ And the crowd went into hypnotic frenzy.

The following hours went blurry, Y/N was taken to chamber to another…

At last, she was in her family’s quarters, she waited for servants to leave them alone. The door closed and a thick silence fell like a dark cloud, hovering over the House Atreides.

‘’How could you?!’’ she yelled, stood up to her feet, her skirts swirling, her face showed nothing but anger, she was a lioness. ‘’How could I refuse the Emperor?!’’ Leto yelled back, he felt powerless like the exact time when Emperor Shaddam demanded his beloved baby daughter to accompany Princes Irulan. Again, someone else was going to take her from him. ‘’Wake up father! This isn’t the Emperor. This is Bene Gesserit’s doing. It has been all along.’’

Leto turned to face Jessica who averted her gaze, she looked guilty of a crime she didn’t commit yet she had her fingers in it. ‘’You?!’’ He didn’t want to believe but she was right. Jessica’s blue eyes couldn’t face her beloved. Paul knew that his parents needed to talk in private so he gently held his older sister’s arm. ‘’let’s go to the gardens.’’ He knew that would calm her.

Y/N stormed odd to the halls of the palace and with Paul they walked to the lush gardens. Gardens of House Corriono were always well maintained and aesthetically pleasing with colors and scent. She had to take deep breaths and pray in silence;

 ‘’I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.’’

Paul was standing there hands in his pockets, counting his blessings.

‘’Y/N’’ he called softly, ‘’What?!’’ she was about to take her anger out on him, ‘’Do not give me that look Paul. You and Irulan and that.. that Bal headed beast are the ones who profit from this arrangement but me!’’ she tried to keep her voice low, servants and spies could be anywhere. ‘’You can manipulate him, Y/N, remember our training.’’ Paul was making sense but Y/N was too furious to hear .

‘’Y/N…’’ a soft voice called out, they turned to face the owner, ‘’Pyramus..’’ she breathed out, a brief silence fell, his dark brown eyes found hers, ‘’I shall take my leave.’’ Paul announced and left them be.

Two lovers embraced, she started to cry in agony, ‘’What are we going to do now?!’’ her voice desperate, rebelling against her fate. ‘’I have an idea.’’ He said holding her face, ‘’Tonight, after Irulan and Paul’s wedding we run away together.’’ She was shocked to hear him being bold. ‘’We can hijack an ornithopter and hide till we find a ship to fly to my home, you can use the Voice on people.’’ It would be the most outrageous scandal that the Imperium had ever seen, but it was now or never.

All day she got ready for Irulan’s wedding, she wore a long black dress an black lace gloves that were see-through, her long hair let loose. A big obsidian stoned necklace on her delicate throat, the stone shined every time lights hit from the glowglobes. After tonight she was suppose to be shipped to the hellhole called Giedi Prime. House Harkonnen.

The feast was bountiful, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, no one cared about Y/N and her situation. Among the crowd she found her family’s place and started to move past dancing couples to go to them but a firm trap caught her delicate wrist, it was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

‘’Where to, little dove?’’ he was in his regular black clothing, a silver ring on his little finger, a cunning look on his ocean eyes, ‘’To my family.’’ Y/N replied coldly, ‘’I am your family now.’’ He was so direct it caught her off guard. He didn’t wait for an answer and guided her to the dance floor, his tone was stern, was he hurt that Y/N didn’t go to him first? She deduced with her Bene Gesserit powers. ‘’I highly doubt that.’’ She clapped back in annoyance. He was trying really hard not to lose his temper. He couldn’t show his true self among other houses, he couldn’t humiliate his family so he simply had to wait and be patient and when the time comes… he could insert his ways on her. As if he wasn’t doing it now….

‘’You have a silver tongue. I like that but-‘’ he made her twirl, ‘’be careful.’’ Y/N looked up to meet his orbits, under the yellow lights, among dancing couples one could assume that Feyd and Y/N were a loving couple. It was so easy to lose oneself in his aura that she had to look away. Their bodies pressed to each other, she could smell his cologne, manly and just.. there

‘’You know what, I’m going to be nice to you tonight.’’ She said which caused him to rise his nonexistent eyebrow in questioning. ‘’How come?’’

‘’You might not find me again, so, it’s on the house.’’ And the music ended and she immediately let herself part from him and go to her family.

Rest of the night she avoided most of the people and observed. Paul and Irulan were shipped to Caladan and tomorrow morning all of the lord and ladies were to go back to their home planets. Perfect timing.

Y/N wore her black leather pants and top, she couldn’t afford running in her beautiful gowns if any trouble arrived. She prepared a small bag of essentials, and had been waiting for Pyramus to whistle from outside, her windows were all wide open.

When she heard him she activated her shoes which were made to float in the air and she softly landed on the fresh cut grass, they kissed passionately. She could feel her heart in her throat, this was the first time she was actively rebelling against her family and the rules. Pyramus had his outfit from the night’s entertainment. ‘’Why didn’t you change?’’

‘’Didn’t have time. Follow me.’’ If she was more observant she could have seen the cut on his eyebrow and small bruises on his face clearly.

Ornithopters were on the airfield, since it was really late most of the guards were sleeping on their duty.

Pyramus held her hand, his palm sweaty, ‘’Let’s go.’’ He made her move fast ‘’Wait-‘’ she whispered,

‘’Let’s not wake them up-‘’ he seemed like he didn’t care, they got to an ornithopter. He opened its door, it was for two people. Before she climbed inside she turned to face him for a second, he seemed terrified, ‘’Wait-‘’ her hands went to his face, ‘’What happened to your face?’’ Y/N asked in horror and saw his expression change into guilt.

‘’Pyramus?’’ she whispered, ‘’I’m sorry Y/N..’’

And all of the lights on the field were turned on like lightning on a rainy day, alarms were going off, soldiers wide awake… were they awake the whole time? They were surrounded by Harkonnen soldiers, a sound of applause echoed on the open field, soldiers moved to make way for him.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen approached, he stopped clapping when he saw them, he had his black and dark grey uniform. Y/N could see he was geared up.. just in case.

‘’Did you really think that you could escape me?’’ Feyd asked sarcastically, his voice amused, he looked like a theater actor who finished his bit and proud of himself. ‘’I’m sorry..’’ Pyramus whispered again and let her go, he, without a beat climbed into the ornithopter and flew away.

Y/N could feel the tears of betrayal coming in, Feyd-Rautha with a sudden move grabbed her wrist, she felt like an animal who just stepped into a metal trap, his fingers bruising her wrist, he started to drag her back to the palace. ‘’Let go of me!’’ because of the panic she couldn’t use the Voice on him.

‘’Enough games, little dove. You will be locked to your chambers until we leave for Giedi Prime.’’

She kept trying to fight and get away from him and he stopped in his tracks, an annoyed huff coming out of him he turned to her and with a swift move he lifted her to his shoulder like a cave man.

‘’I order you to let go of me!’’ this time she used the Voice but he wasn’t affected. Why? Y/N noticed the earplugs he was wearing. ‘’I out rank you Lady Y/N.’’ he chuckled and she could feel the panic rise in her. He slapped her butt and she whined in pain, his hand was heavy and big.

Feyd-Rautha marched the empty corridors and found her bedroom, he kicked open the door and threw her onto her bed which was covered with fluffy pillows and he was startled to see so many colors at once. She froze, supporting her body with her hand, he stood there like a statue, immobile. ‘’Thankfully other houses don’t know this foolish attempt of yours.’’ He said coldly ad slowly leaned to be on the same level as her. ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ She felt the threat of his words settle into the room, she felt as if his presence made her vision go dark and the only thing she could see was him.. Feyd-Rautha was so many things but a liar.

He left and she heard the lock on the door.

Y/N was in shock, she had to take deep breaths to calm her racing mind. Soon a maid came to lock the windows and leave her there, without a word.. even her own maids turned their backs on her, Harkonnens were feared. She belonged to them now, her body and soul was his.

She moved to the window to see the full moon, on her knees she prayed till morning came with its fog. Jessica entered with the maids and servants, Y/N was on her knees praying like a mad Bene Gesserit witch. ‘’Prepare the bath for my daughter.’’ Jessica ordered and went to sit next to her.

‘’You will understand me one day.’’ She knew what happened last night and was surprised, Jessica had never thought Y/N would rebel like this.. ‘’When I was in your whomb…’’ she began, ‘’why didn’t you change my sex?’’

Jessica had to tell the truth, ‘’I was ordered to have a daughter as first born. They didn’t tell me why. If I had known.. things would be different.’’ Her blue eyes searching hers, hoping to see something but Y/N was trained well, not a single emotion on her face, a blank slate. ‘’If you don’t manipulate him he’ll be the end of you, you’re my daughter, you have to survive.’’ Jessica kissed her daughters soft hair and stood up to give more orders to carry Y/N’s belongings to the Harkonnen ship.

Y/N watched other houses leave from her window, she tried to read while her servants worked in silence. The sun was setting when she wore her ceremonial gown. It was emerald green, the color fo her house and a hawk was on her chest, symbol of House Atreides. Her long hair was braided elegantly. Her father came to take her outside before the Emperor, it was the custom. Leto tried to talk to her but she didn’t budge, they walked in death silence.

There was a breeze outside, she saw everyone standing in their rightful places. Feyd-Rautha was standing in front of the Emperor who was seated on a moveable throne. Feyd’s hands clasped behind his back, he watched Duke Leto bring Y/N to stand next to her, he noticed that she was avoiding eye contact like an expert.

Leto, when he made her stand next to her husband- to-be he took a step to Feyd, held his arm and whispered into his ear, ‘’Hurt my daughter and I will end your entire blood line.’’ He gave a pat on Feyd’s shoulder and left them.

The field was silent, she could hear the birds, it calmed her. Were there any birds in Giedi Prime?

Padishah Emperor Shaddam basically announced that this young couple had his blessing and the wedding would take place in House Harkonnen’s planet. He made them kiss his ring and ended the ceremony. Y/N walked to her family to say goodbye, Feyd watching her intently, Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, Jessica hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear.

‘’Remember your training.’’

Feyd made her take his arm, his ceremonial clothing was black, he was covered in it, together they walked to the ship. ‘’I must say you look pleasant in green.’’ He spoke quietly, Y/N turned to see the small smile on his plump lips, ‘’Thank you.’’ And they walked to the ship, Y/N looked at her family before the metal door closed.

Tag list; @superchatnoir07

@mamawiggers1980

@landlockedmermaid77

@moonsoulk

@crystalskiesandcherrywine

@palomavz

@beebeechaos

@jeong-uwu

@tian-monique

@avidreader73

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@taleah

Thank you for reading. :)

[crepes-suzette-373]

”Is that a proposal” VS "non-mutual love": Weddings, weddings all around

At the risk of dredging a topic that's been beaten to death... I know all the SanNami fans already talk about WCI a lot, but hopefully what I'm saying is new or informative and exciting.

Even after declaring that he wants to come back and Luffy takes him back with open arms, Sanji still looks absolutely miserable and depressed. However, the moment Nami tells him she's taking him back, he pretty much immediately turns back to normal. Flying hearts and all.

Even Luffy seem to notice and goes "Oh great, everything is all fine now". (raw note: he just says "I'm somehow relieved now", but it's not overly different)

By the way, specifically, when Sanji asks if that's a proposal... It might seem a bit extreme, like you might wonder why would he assume proposal and not just "confession".

The reason is probably because Nami says "We're taking you back" with kaette kite morau 帰って来て貰う (i.e "receiving you back"). One of the indirect phrases to say "get married" is yome ni morau 嫁に貰う, literally means to "receive a wife" (into the husband's household).

This could just be a momentary gag, but here's a possible hot take for it: It basically subverts the whole Big Mum wedding entirely.

It's less common, but if the wife's family is more powerful, sometimes they would "receive" the husband into their family instead of sending out the daughter to the husband's family. No matter what Judge says or thinks, Big Mum is the stronger party here. Even suppose this wedding wasn't a fraud, for all accounts it's Sanji that's being taken into the Charlotte family.

He's only going along with it because he feared people would die, but if Nami's proposing? It's yes all the way.

Would you look at that, the groom is being taken in by another family already, bye.

And also, the colours:

In Japan, red and white together (kouhaku 紅白) means blessings from the divine, and is used for decoration and gifts in celebrations. Of course, among others, that also includes weddings. Pairs of red and white kouhaku mochi or manju are sometimes served to the wedding guests, and guests often bring gifts tied with red and white string.

Some say it's because the red means life and the white means death, symbolising a whole lifetime.

This all in contrast to the "non mutual love" re:Pudding...

This might be controversial because I dare to say the official translation is wrong, but in chapter 902, when the flowers and trees started singing Soul Pocus, the part about the prince and princess is messed up. This is how it should be:

They're saying "the prince and princess don't share mutual love" and this is all a massive farce. You can see the whole page retranslation by me here, but I repeat, both the fan translation and the official ones are wrong.

This? This is wrong:

I believe the reason why the translator got tripped up is because in the raw, the phrase is written like this: 引かれ会わない\.

引かれ means pulling. 会わない means "not meeting/not connecting". It seems that because of that the translators thought it means "pulling apart".

But the problem here is 引かれ合う is supposed to be a joint phrase that means "mutual attraction". Making it the negative form, 引かれ会わない, makes it mean "not mutual attraction".

And no, this does not include mutual pining where two people are in love but aren't aware of each other's feelings.

The Soul Pocus song was recounting the whole mess that had happened. A sham wedding, pulling death-defying stunts to escape, all hell now breaks loose. The fact that there's a specific mention of "love that is not mutual" seems pretty important.

Not to mention that the narration is overlayed over a picture of Pudding, who is crying heartbrokenly while holding on Sanji's memory clips, while Sanji is comforting Carrot and mourning over Pedro and pretty much already moved on.

By all accounts the presentation looks like it's telling us "Pudding likes Sanji, but he does not return the sentiments at all".

Remember. He was so depressed before, and so worried about Luffy and Nami, and he was basically having to force himself to make the heart eyes even when he was still thinking Pudding was nice. His priorities is always Nami and the other Straw Hats first.

Plus, how can these even compare:

This again relates to one of the comments I previously made about WCI: In multiple moments between Sanji and Pudding that could look sweet, Oda-sensei draws Sanji with stupid faces, and basically "ruins" the scene by it.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The group investigates the case of a maniacal ghost inhabiting a long abandoned Texas farmhouse known as `Hell House'. They believe the ghost is the spirit of a deceased depression-era farmer who killed his family, but they soon realise it is something far more powerful.

Warnings: Cannon violence, mentions of suicide and sh within the cannon story, a guy being a little icky.

Credit: While I’ve had the idea for a certain part of this story for a while i’m still going to give credit to @arjwrites for it because she wrote something pretty darn similar, even more than just pretty darn so yes check their work out and stuff.

Tag List: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44 @bonkydarnes @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara @mxltifxndom @stilesxreid @chaotic-luvrs @tiggytaylor @deanwasscaredbyacat @imaginexred

Word Count: 11,341

Hell House

(Masterlist, Previous Ch, Next Ch, Outfit Board)

The Impala cruises down the interstate, yellows, and browns passing by as the hot Texas sun beams through the opened windows. Hair blowing back in the wind and tickling my skin, my sunglasses perched on my nose as I nod along to the Blue Öyster Cult song that played quietly on the radio. If Sam wasn’t peacefully sleeping, head leaning far back against his seat and mouth hanging open I’d ask Dean to make the song louder—it was a really good song though I prefer (Don’t Fear) The Reaper over Fire of Unknown Origin any day.

Dean stretches an arm back, leaning over the seat to grab hold of a stray plastic spoon left on the seat beside me. He places the spoon in Sam’s open mouth. He chuckles to himself as he thumbs through his pocket for his phone, flipping it open and taking a photo. I scuff and roll my eyes at the sight as my hand finds its way into my bag where I pull out my digital camera, “Do a pose,” I whisper to Dean. He checks the empty road in front of him, slowing the car significantly before half turning and spilling widely with a thumbs up, I try not to laugh as I take the picture. I nod to him in confirmation that I got it, he puts his attention back on the road, putting more pressure on the gas pedal, glimpsing at Sam to make sure he’s still asleep before his fingers find the knob on the radio and turn the music all the way up. “Fire of unknown origins…took my baby away!” he sings loudly.

Sam jerks awake, arms flailing around in panic as he spits out the spoon. Dean air drums along to the song, fingers hitting the steering wheel, grinning as Sam wipes his mouth of drool. He turns down the music, an unamused look on his face, “Ha ha, very funny.”

Dean chuckles, “Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man we’re not kids anymore, Dean,” he complains, “We’re not going to start that crap up again.”

“Start what up?” Dean asks, feigning innocence.

“That prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates,” he clarifies, very annoyed with the little prank. But he was right, it did always escalate. I have heard many stories of the things they did and they were not pretty. As long as I didn’t get caught in the crossfire, they could go at it all they wanted, “But you’re never too old to do stupid things,” I add.

“Aw, what’s the matter Sammy, scared you’re going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?” Dean teases, grinning like a madman.

“Alright, just remember you started it,” Sam warns, smirking right back.

“Bring it on, baldy,” he taunted.

“Ok, but don’t make him bald again, that would be so tragic. Every guy with pretty hair gets a buzz cut and it’s like an angel lost its wings, it’s horrible,” I butt in.

“That’s the point,” Dean chuckles, probably reminiscing on the first time he did it to Sam and how much worse it would be now as an adult than when he was a kid. “Anyways where are we?” Sam asks, apparently not worried about the danger surrounding his hair.

“A few hours outside of Richardson,” he answers, “Gimme the lowdown again?”

Sam pulls out the file he created, printed papers neatly held in a manila folder, “Alright, about a month or two ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”

“Haunted by what?” Dean asks.

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit,” he answers. I sigh, these kinds of spirits made for an incredibly annoying job, “Why are they always misogynistic? Literally, go kill anyone else! Or, spice it up and kill guys too.”

“Take that up with the spirit,” Dean says.

“Yeah, no thanks, I like living,” I retort with a smirk.

“Well, legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters,” Sam continues, “Anyway this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

“Anybody ID the corpse?” Dean asks, also getting back on track.

“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains,” Sam elaborates.

“Do you think they were?” I question, it wouldn’t be the first time kids lied about this sort of thing as a prank or for attention and coverage, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But, on the other hand, if you're looking for something to happen in a known haunted location there’s a good chance you’ll get something. “Maybe, but I read a couple of the kid's first-hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere,” he answers.

“They made the papers?” I ask, taken aback a little. Though it made sense for the case to likely make the papers, it would be surprising for accounts like that to be taken in main news articles, it’d be seen as a waste of time. “No,” Sam responds without making a sign he would elaborate.

“Where’d you read these accounts?” Dean pushes. Sam smiles, his cheeks just turning the slightest shade of pink, “Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, um, last night, I surfed some local…” he drags before getting the rest out quickly, “paranormal websites. And I found one.”

I give him a questioning look, it’s hard to take those sites seriously, especially when it's hard to weed out the crazies from real accounts. But even more than that, in the case such sites are speaking the truth, then it was putting said people in danger they wouldn’t know how to solve, which meant a whole lot of stubborn and ignorant people. “And what’s it called?” Dean asks, smirking as if he knew where this would lead.

“HellHoundsLair.com,” Sam almost mumbles, obviously knowing how illegitimate and silly it sounds.

“Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom’s basement,” Dean muses, and like any sane person I can’t help the laugh that escapes my chest. Sam, somehow, manages to just grin, “Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit ‘em in the persqueeter,” Dean adds.

“What’s a persqueeter?” I ask, the word slow and clumsy on my tongue. My eyes squint slightly as I try to figure it out. “It’s a—“ Sam cuts him off, “That’s not important right now,” he starts and I frown at not getting my answer, “Look. We let Dad take off. Which was a mistake, by the way. And now we don’t know where the hell he is, so in the meantime we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There’s no harm checking this thing out.”

“Alright,” Dean gives in, “So where do we find these kids?”

“Same place you always find kids in a town like this.”

Guy 1: “It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God.”

Guy 2: “From the moment we walked in, the walls were painted black.”

Guy 1: “Red.”

Girl: “I think it was blood.”

Guy 1: “All these freaky symbols.”

Guy 2: “Crosses and stars and…”

Guy 1: “Pentagons.”

Guy 2: “Pentacostals.”

Girl: “Whatever I had my eyes closed the whole time.”

Guy 1: “But I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says…”

Girl: “That poor girl.”

Guy 2: “With the black…”

Guy 1: “Blonde…”

Girl: “Red hair, just hanging there.”

Guy 1: “Kicking!”

Guy 2: “Without even moving!”

Girl: “She was real.”

Guy 1: “One hundred percent.”

Guy 2: “And kinda hot. Well, you know, in a dead sort of way.”

“Okay!” I exclaim, “And there’s the necrophilia!”

“And…how’d you find out about this place anyway?” Sam asks.

“Craig.”

“Craig.”

“Craig took us.”

I prop my sunglasses on top of my head, pushing some of my hair back from my face, as we walk into the record shop ‘Craig’ works. Considering each person's answer, and how they hardly matched up, I couldn’t even fathom what Craig would tell us. But in all fairness their responses, while…odd, did make sense considering there are about eight things that affect the observation of an eyewitness.

The bell above the door once more as it closes behind us. Whether Craig would be helpful didn’t take away from the beauty of this record shop, the stands filled to the brim with all sorts of vinyls neatly sorted into separate genres. “Fellas,” a spiky-haired brunette greets from behind the counter, “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?” Sam asks as we move closer. “I am,” he confirms.

“Well, we’re reporters with the Dallas Morning News,” Dean begins, “I’m Dean, this is Sam and Y/N.”

“No way. Well, I’m a writer too. I write for my school’s lit magazine,” Craig informs.

“Well, good for you Morrissey,” Dean remarks a little rudely. I ignore his comment, hoping it won’t discourage him from speaking with us, “So, we’re writing an article on local hauntings and we heard you would be someone to talk to.”

“‘You mean the Hell House?” he asks.

“That’s the one,” Dean answers.

“I didn’t think there was anything to the story,” he admits and frankly he has a right to be suspicious. “Why don’t you tell us the story?” Sam suggests.

“Well, supposedly back in the ‘30s this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn’t have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that’s when he went off the deep end,”

“How?” Sam pushes.

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quickly, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung ‘em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside,” he explains.

“Where’d you hear all this?” Dean asks the logical question.

“My cousin Dana told me. I don’t know where she heard it,” he answers, his expression dropping a little, “Ya gotta realize, I–I didn’t believe this for a second.”

“But now you do,” Sam finishes, giving him an understanding nod.

“I don’t know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I–I’ll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”

******

Mud sloshes beneath my shoes as we walk up the muddy path to the dark-wooded house. It was a simple house with a rickety porch in the middle of nowhere. “Can’t say I blame the kid,” Sam comments.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal,” Dean jokes.

We soon split up, taking a little peek around the bleak property for anything at all. Sam and I meet up halfway and walk back to the front, meeting up with Dean and his EMF reader. “You got something there?” I ask, playfully nudging into him. He taps the reader, the EMF level not changing, “Yeah, the EMF’s no good.”

“Why?” Sam asks.

“Maybe you need another walkman to toy with,” I guess, only half teasing. His green eyes shoot to mine, “This baby’s foolproof, nothin’ wrong with it,” he defends.

“Mm,” I hum, “Then why is it ‘no good’ now?”

He gestures upwards, my eyes following the overhead power lines, “I think that thing’s still got a little juice in it. It’s screwing with all the readings.”

“Yeah, that’d do it,” Sam agrees.

“See!” he wiggles the EMF reader in front of my face, a wide smile curling on my lips, “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

I place a hand over his, pushing his hand and the reader down from my face, “Sorry! I just think your whole DIY thingy is adorable,” I laugh.

“It’s not adorable. It’s genius,” he defends.

“Fine, it’s adorably genius,” I correct, having a hard time keeping the stupid smile off my face.

“You two ready to go?” Sam asks. I turn towards him, his arms crossed over his chest, and his lips pursed together in that silly, sassy way he does it. I know what he’s insinuating by the way he says it and the way he’s impatiently waiting. But, I don’t want nor need him to bring that up again, let alone now, so I respond, “Born ready.” Before moving away from Dean and stepping up on the porch, my hand reaches for the doorknob.

I turn the knob and push the door open, letting more light crawl into the dark home. The sunlight creeps along the floor, stretching its arm as far as it can reach inside. The walls are a grayish-blue wallpaper littered with graffiti and the occasional hole, the windows are broken but the soft yellow glow of the sun still makes itself known through the plastic wrap covering it. There’s still some furniture left behind, an old red chaise sofa pushed to the wall, a fallen tree lying in front of it. Quite the house. But, it’s clear it was beautiful once, and in some odd way, perhaps it still is. “Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger here in his time,” Dean whistles.

“And after his time too. That reverse cross had been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of silver didn’t show up in San Francisco until the ‘60s,” Sam informs, pointing at a painted cross with a circle around it.

“That is exactly why you never get laid,” Dean comments, staring at his brother.

“That is a very weird thing to say,” I reply as Sam takes a photo of the sigil, “And that was a very fun fact.”

Dean shrugs, moving to another wall, “Than—“ Sam tries to say as his brother cuts him off, “Hey, what about this one, you seen this one before?” He gestures to a symbol of a cross with a dot in the middle, the bottom stroke looking like an upside-down question mark. “No,” he says simply.

“Me neither,” I shake my head.

“I have,” Dean informs, “Somewhere.” Sam reaches out to the symbol, rubbing it, he pulls his hand away and looks at his now fingers, “It’s paint. Seems pretty fresh too.”

“I don’t know. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but….the cops may be right about this one,” Dean says. And while Dean was quite the skeptic when it came to whether cases would actually be our sort of cases, for him to say that, to even possibly agree with the authority was big. “Yeah, maybe,” Sam mumbles.

Then, suddenly there’s a rustling or shuffling noise from the next room over. Immediately we move into action. Dean grabs a hold of my wrist and pushes me beside him as he takes position near the door, Sam taking the other side of the door. Our backs flat against the wall, Dean nods his head at his brother before they burst through the door. Immediately, they stumble back, shielding their eyes from bright lights and the shouts of…two guys. I move in after them, moving around Dean to be involved in the seemingly unthreatening situation.

Two short guys decked out in all sorts of gear stand before us. “Oh, cut. It’s just a coupla humans,” the one with black hair scuffs, wearing huge goggles on his head—maybe night vision, and a studio light in hand . The other guy holding a camera switches it off. “What are you guys doing here?” night vision questions, eyeing us. “What the hell are you doing here?” Dean shoots right back.

Night vision laughs, “We belong here, we’re professionals?” he answers as if it should’ve been obvious. However, the only obvious thing here was how stupid they looked. “Professional what?” I ask, somewhat confused. Night Vision smirks, reaching into one of the many pockets on his beige vest before pulling out a white card, “Paranormal Investigators,” he identifies, handing me his little card. I take it from him, looking at him skeptically, “There you go, take a look at that, beautiful,” his eyes sweep over my frame slowly, stopping too long at one too many areas. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Dean grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Wow,” I say plainly, “Ed Zeddmore,” the night vision guy nods his head in confirmation “and Harry Spengler, so professional they have their own business cards for their website,” I throw a look at Sam and Dean, “HellhoundsLair.”

“You guys run that website?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Ed smiles confidently, practically beaming in his boast.

“Oh yeah, yeah, we’re huge fans,” Dean says sarcastically, a stupid grin on his lips.

“And ah, we know who you guys are too,” Ed claims, all high and mighty. Once more I’m confused by this dude. “Oh yeah?” Sam challenges, looking at him sharply.

“Amateurs,” Ed explains and immediately Dean walks away in lost interest, rummaging through cabinets instead of really listening. “Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills,” he continues. I cross my arms across my chest, “Right…” I drawl sarcastically, “‘Cause I just love a cheap thrill.”

“I can give you an…ex-expensive thrill,” Ed winks smoothly despite the words coming out awkward and choppy. His eyes drop to my breasts that peek out from my top, staring at them like they’re the only things in the room. I grimace, cringing as I unfold my arms in hopes it will help…it doesn’t, “Oh…that’s not, um…no…”

“Well, if you guys don’t mind, we’re trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here,” Harry speaks up.

“Yeah, what have you got so far?” Dean asks, sauntering back over.

“Harry, why doncha tell ‘em about EMF?” Ed suggests proudly, chin raised.

“Well…” Harry says before Sam cuts him off, “EMF?” He tries to keep a smile off his face as he clearly tries to play dumb. These poor guys.

“Electromagnetic field?” Harry responds like we’re idiots, “Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector,” he turns around to rummage through his backpack before producing the gadget, “Like this bad boy right here.” He turns the box on, adjusting the antenna. A knowing smirk crawls on Dean’s face, we obviously know they won’t see anything, at least not anything accurate. “Woa. Whoa. It’s 2.8mg,” Harry announces, eyebrows shot up.

“2.8,” Ed exclaims, “It’s hot in here.”

I have to bite my lip to keep my laughter back. Dean whistles in admiration, Sam remarking a “Wow,” with a hint of irony.

“Huh. So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…” Dean asks.

“Once,” Ed declares, “We were, uh…we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table…”

“By itself,” Harry finishes, emphasizing it with a firm head movement. “Well, we, we, we, we didn’t actually see it, we heard it,” Ed backtracks, stumbling on his words, “And something like that..it uh…it changes you.”

“Mm, I’m sure it does,” I play. They were total idiots, they’d be lucky if they don’t get themselves killed. Dean nods, his voice bored and unamused, “Yeah. I think I get the picture. We should go, let them get back to work”

“Yeah, you should,” Ed replies, crossing his arms clumsily across his chest. With his back turned towards the naïve boys, Dean widens his eyes at us, nodding his head towards the door in front of him. “Oh but, um,” Ed stammers, looking at me, “If you wanna stay we can show you the real deal.”

Sam and Dean seem to pause in the doorway. I try to hide my shock and disinterest behind a tight-lipped smile, “Oh…no thanks…” I spin around, more than ready to leave. But, just outside the doorway, I pause, spinning back around to end it with, “Seek happiness in tranquility, and avoid ambition, even if it be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in science and discoveries.” I smile even as confusion falls upon their faces and when I turn back to my boys a similar expression graces theirs.

Yet, only as we descend the steps of the old house do they break. “Did you just quote Frankenstein to them?” Sam asks, his brows twisted with confusion as a boyish smile pulls at his lips. I skip down the last step, “Maybe…”

I catch Dean's eyes rolling, he mumbles something beneath his breath before mumbling just a little louder, “This is why I’m the only one who gets laid.”

Sam and I move as one, walking down the stairs of the library. Dean approaches us, his eyes flicking over us. “Hey,” Sam nods to him. “Hey. What you got?” Dean asks as we hit the last step.

“Well we couldn’t find a Morechai but we did find a Martin Murdock who lived in the house in the ‘30s,” Sam explains, summarizing our findings.

“And, he did have kids but only two of them, both boys, and there’s nothing on him killing anyone,” I add. Our findings only supported the theory that this was nothing more than a story, maybe it wasn’t our kind of job.

“Huh,” Dean hums, most likely thinking the same thing.

“What about you?” Sam asks as we approach the Impala. Dean rounds the car, speaking over the top of it, “Well those kids didn’t really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons. It’s like she never existed. Dude, come on, we did our digging, this one’s a bust alright. For all we know those HellHound boys made up the whole thing.”

“I really hate to agree and blame this on faulty witnesses and a scary story, but…we really do got nothing,” I nod. I don’t know what those kids saw, maybe it was some sort of prank or being scared and seeing something that wasn't there, either way the story was likely made up.

“Yeah, alright,” Sam surprisingly agrees. He’s usually the one to be stubborn on this and see it out, or just have a feeling that we should see it out. So, for him to agree was more than confirmation. “I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals,” Dean suggests, a smile on his lips. He gets into the car, and before I can round the car Sam grabs my forearm mouthing a ‘just wait.’ I give him a confused look, brows furrowing, but he leans down to peer into the car through the window and instantly I know this is a prank.

I roll my eyes but I too peer through the window, might as well see the outcome. He turns the key in the ignition, and immediately Latina pop music blasts from the car, loud enough to hear clearly from the safety of outside the car. He jumps, his fingers fumbling for the key in the ignition but instead, the windshield wipers turn on. He shouts something but all we can see is the moving of his lips, the music too loud. He quickly reaches for the volume dial, hitting it the music ceases, his shoulders drop a bit as he hits off the windshield wipers too.

Finally, I round the car as Sam bursts out in laughter. I get in and a moment later Sam’s opening his door and sitting. He licks his finger and draws an imaginary ‘1’ in the air, then points to himself. Fire might as well have ignited in Dean's green eyes as he gives his brother the dirtiest look, “That’s all you got? Weak. That is bush league,” he challenges.

The early morning sun breaks the horizon, painting the sky a soft orange. The lights of emergency vehicles spin in colors of red and blue, police officers move around, a filled body bag being rolled away on a stretcher. We missed something.

“What happened?” Dean questions another bystander, there’s a small group of people that watch the scene from behind the yellow caution tape. “A coupla cops say a girl hung herself in the house,” the man answers.

“Suicide?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. She was a straight-A student, with a full ride to UT too. It just don’t make sense,” he explains and he’s right it doesn’t make any sense. Of course, you don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors, but to come to this specific run-down house with haunting rumors to kill yourself is odd. For whatever reason the man walks away, maybe leaving the scene after realizing there was no point in being here anymore. “Whaddaya think?” Sam asks, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pockets.

“I think we’re wrong about this not being our kind of job,” I answer, we must have missed something.

******

Darkness cloaks us as well as the thick bushes we crouch behind. We wouldn't be hiding if it wasn’t for the cop car parked outside the old house and the two cops standing around. “I guess the cops don’t want anyone else screwing around there,” Sam comments. It makes sense for them not to want stupid teenagers coming around or another teen to kill themselves here, as horrible as it sounds.

“Yeah but we still gotta get in there,” Dean responds. It’s why we were here, after all, try to figure out what we missed. The cops had been around the place all day, nighttime was supposed to be a clearing. A cool breeze rustles the leaves softly and chills my body, a contrast to the heat earlier in the day, I pull my sweatshirt closer in an attempt to fight off the coolness.

“I don’t believe it,” Dean grumbles randomly. I turn my head to follow his line of sight, and just a couple of feet away are the two idiots from before. They approach, decked out in all sorts of gadgets, more than before which I hadn’t thought possible. They whisper to themselves and shush each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started laughing in the way you do when you're trying to be quiet, and yet everything is suddenly funny. “You gotta be kidding,” I mumble.

“I got an idea,” Dean says. He rises slightly, turning towards the cops. He cups his hands around his mouth, “Who ya gonna call!” he shouts. Ed and Harry look around frantically, muttering to themselves, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Hey! you!” one of the cops shouts, eyes locked on the two boys before him and his partner heading straight for them. “Freeze!” the cop warns. But one of the nerds yelps a “run!” and they turn around quickly before hauling it. “Get back here. Hey,” the cops shout before following them. Our laughs blend together despite trying to hold them back. But we use this opportunity to make a break for the house, our shoes hitting the ground hard.

Quickly we get inside and immediately Sam is taking the duffle bag off his back, jumping straight into action. Dean and I take out our flashlights that were hidden in the waistband of our pants and concealed by our jackets. The lights of our flashlights go on, illuminating the dark home just enough.

Sam breaks out the rifles, handing one to each of us. The rock salt is already locked and loaded. “Where have I seen that symbol before? It’s killing me!” Dean exclaims, his flashlight hovering over the symbol of the cross with a dot in the middle, the bottom stroke looking like an upside-down question mark. “Come on, we don’t have much time,” Sam urges. There’s no saying when the cops would stop their chase and if they’d come to check inside.

We move through the house quickly until we find the basement, moving down the stairs just as fast. Racks of shelves practically take up the whole basement, rows of them. Each one dusty and cornered with cobwebs, all kinds of glass jars filled with questionable liquids. “Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this,” Dean says, holding up a particular jar filled with a pale red liquid of some sort. There was no way of knowing what that liquid or any of them are without a lab and some testing, which naturally we don’t have. “What the hell would I do that for?” Sam shoots back.

“…I double dare you,” he grins. Sam just shakes his head, going back to looking around. A rustling noise draws our attention towards a cabinet but before we can investigate it a rat pokes its head out, squeaking before running away. “I hate rats,” Dean grumbles, lifting his feet up as the rat scurries away.

“You’d rather it was a ghost?” Sam questions, one eyebrow quirked.

“Yes,” Dean deadpans. I roll my eyes moving forward, “Do you think these jars are old pickled stuff or, like, bodily fluid stuff?” I ask, casting a glance over my shoulder at Dean. But before I can take another step, I’m yanked back suddenly, my breath catching as the belt loop of my shorts is sharply tugged. In an instant, my back slams against Dean's chest just as the shelves in front of me crash down with a deafening shatter. An axe buries itself in the spot where I had just been standing.

The sound of gunfire explodes in the room as Sam fires off two shots at the spirit of the old farmer, but it does nothing to stop him. Heart pounding, I whip my gun up, the weight familiar in my hand. Without hesitation, I pull the trigger, aiming at the spirit now dangerously close. Mordechai goes up in a mist, disappearing, “What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam exclaims.

“This one apparently!” I shout, moving from Dean's hold as he urges us towards the stairs. But Mordechai appears again, he smashes his axe down, catching the shelves and bringing the jars crashing down on Dean, glass shattering all around him as he goes down with it. My heart pounds in my ears, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I raise my gun, steadying my hands before taking my shot, rock salt explodes from the gun, hitting its mark but still doing nothing to the spirit. The spirit instead turns and charges at Sam. Shot after shot reverberates through the room emanating from Sam’s gun, “Go! Get outta here!!” Sam yells.

I rush towards Dean, shotgun hanging at my side. The glass crunches beneath my shoes as I pull Dean up, dragging him by his forearms. He grunts as he gets to his feet and if we weren’t being chased by a farmer ghost right now I’d take the time to dust the glass from his jacket. Instead, I grab hold of his hand and drag him behind me as I bolt for the stairs.

The axe seems to come down somewhere else in the room, electrical whizzing noises following it, but I ignore it as we shuffle up the stairs and be-line to the front door. We bolt out the door, caution tape breaking as Dean breaks through it, nearly stumbling down the steps.

A camera is immediately pushed into our faces, the nerds of course behind it, “Get that damn thing outta my face,” Dean commands, an arm raised to block its view.

I lay on my stomach on Sam’s bed which I’m temporarily stealing to research. An arm beneath my chin props my head up, my legs kicking slowly in the air back and forth, as I try to find any info on my laptop sitting in front of me. Dean sits on his bed, sketching something on a little notebook as his brother sits at the table with his laptop researching too.

“What the hell is this symbol? It’s buggin’ the hell outta me,” Dean grumbled, hitting the book down to his leg, “This whole damn job’s buggin’ me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”

“It does,” Sam confirms.

“All right. Well, I mean, that explains why it went after you guys, but why me?” Dean questions. I roll my eyes at his sneakily placed joke, if the legend was right then it should’ve only gone after me, jokes aside. “Hilarious,” Sam responds, “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?”

“Yeah,” Dean says but I certainly missed it, though I was busy trying not to get chopped by an axe. “What’s up with that? And the axe too,” Sam points out, “I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?”

“But this mook keeps changing,” Dean adds. Sam types away on his laptop, the keys satisfyingly clicking, “Exactly.”

“Maybe we got a different breed of ghost here,” I suggest, throwing the idea out there even though it’s unlikely. Sam shakes his head, “I’m telling ya, the way the story goes—“ I peer at him over my laptop at his sudden stopping, his face scrunched, “Wait a minute,” he says.

“What?” I ask.

“Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site,” he informs, “Listen to this. ‘They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he’s imprisoned in the house for eternity.”

“A story changing over time makes sense, like a game of telephone. But a spirit that changes with it?… Can they do that?” I ask.

Dean suddenly sits straight up, eyes locked on his drawing of the symbol we saw. “I don’t know,” Sam answers, then huffs as he leans back in his seat with his arms crossed against his chest, “Where the hell is this going?”

“I don’t know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started,” Dean announces

******

The bell above the door dings as we enter the empty record store, the only person there being a bored Craig. Good thing he’s working today. “Hey, Craig? Remember us?” Dean begins an unamused smile on his face.

“Guys, look I’m really not in the mood to answer any of your questions okay?” he responds looking deflated.

“Oh don’t worry. We’re just here to buy an album, that’s all,” Dean reassures. He saunters over to the ‘rock’ section of records, flicking through them until he finds what he wants. He lifts it out and up. “You know, I couldn’t figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn’t mean anything,” Dean explains, directing his words to Sam and I as we approach the counter, “It’s the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult.” He turns his attention to Craig, pressing the album record of Club Ninja onto the counter, “Tell me Craig, you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people?” The boy in question's face drops, his eyes dropping to the album before landing on Dean again. “Now why ‘n’t you tell us about that house…without lying through your ass this time,” Dean orders.

Craig sighs, “Alright, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted,” he explains, “So we painted symbols on the walls, some from some albums, some from some of Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we…we made up some story to go along with it. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but…now that girl’s dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!”

“Alright right,” Sam says softly, ending the conversation. We have our information now, or at least a direction. None of it’s real and yet, somehow, it’s very real.

******

“There you go,” the nice barista smiles, handing over our drinks. Dean takes two of the coffees while I take my latte, “Thank you so much,” I beam, placing a nice tip in the little plastic jar.

We make our way to an empty table. Sam immediately pulls out his laptop, wiggling around in his seat and fixing his jeans with a grimace on his face. “Dude, what’s your problem?” Dean asks, calling him out.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he denies in the least convincing way ever.

“Are you sure?” I ask, eyes sweeping over him, “You look really uncomfortable.” But he just nods his head even as he adjusts himself one more time, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“So, ahh, alright keep going,” Dean moves on, “What about these Tulpas?”

“Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air,” Sam explains.

“What? So, they manifested it?” I ask. I know manifestation and intention are powerful things but for a whole being to come from it sounds bizarre. “Wait, I guess that makes sense considering that just the belief and fear people have and or give off in reaction to a spirit gives it more power,” I think out loud, answering my question.

“So?” Dean counters.

“That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard,” Sam elaborates.

“Does the HellHound site actually have that many people looking at it?” I question, I mean people believe whatever they see. And it’s not like these things don’t exist, it’s just that Ed and Harry certainly weren’t finding it. “Unfortunately,” Sam quips. That many people would be impressive if not for the idiots that are behind it all. “Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” Dean speculates.

“I dunno, maybe” his brother answers, shifting in his seat like he or it’s uncomfortable.

“People believe in Santa Claus, how come I’m not getting hooked up every Christmas?” Dean points out.

“Cuz you’re a bad person,” Sam deadpans, replying a little too fast, “And because of this,” he turns his laptop around to show us a photo of a complex symbol, “That’s a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was.”

“Man, what are the chances of that?” I mumble.

“Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass,” Sam continues, ignoring my comment, “So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai…I mean, I don’t know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”

“It would explain why he keeps changing,” Dean replies. Sam grimaces, adjusting himself again, one too many times for it not to be concerning, “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like Y/N said before, it's like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.”

“So what does work?” I ask, “If that’s even a thing here.”

“Why don’t we just, uh, get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?” Dean suggests.

“Well, it’s not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own,” Sam explains. In conclusion, stupid teenagers draw random symbols on a wall to scare others, somehow choose one that uses belief, it becomes a big legend, scary fake farmer kills people, and it’s our problem now. The chances of all that genuinely have to be so low. “Great,” Dean remarks, “How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

Sam itches around his hips and shuffles in his seat again, “Well it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.” He clicks on a couple of things before a video of last night plays, “Since they’ve posted the video their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.” God, I wish we could just hit them in the face so hard.

“Hmm,” Dean hums, “I got an idea. Come on.”

“You do?” I ask though that little glint in his eye is enough proof. “Where we going?” Sam adds.

“We gotta find a copy store,” he answers. We rise to go, grabbing our to-go cups of drinks and Sam grabs his laptop before itching and wiggling, “Man, I think I’m allergic to our soap or something,” he complains. A stupid grin stretches on Dean's face, laughing as he walks away. “You did this?” Sam says through clenched teeth. And if Dean's confusion to laughter isn't an answer then I don’t know what is. “You’re a fucking jerk!”

“That is some evil shit,” I comment. I don’t even know when he had time to pull his prank but it definitely beat the car thing Sam had pulled. “Oh yeah,” Dean smiles, satisfied.

******

“I think Y/N should be the one to bait them,” Sam reasons as we walk towards the trailer. Dean has his whole plan which requires fake papers, a copy machine, and some lying. What more could you want? “Do I have to?” I ask, “They’re, like, all weird.” But really I mean creepy or gross.

“Yeah, I can do it,” Dean defends.

“That’s the point though, they’ll listen to her ‘cause she’s a girl and those two look like they haven’t interacted with one before two days ago,” Sam explains. I laugh shortly, “Ha, they definitely didn’t, at least not a real-life one,” I then exhale, “Alright fine I’ll do it.” It’s not even a big deal to begin with to be fair.

We approach their trailer, a little garden flamingo standing tilted in the grass and a couple of foldable lounge chairs sitting about. Dean pounds on the door, fist-hitting it repeatedly. A squeal comes from inside before someone calls out, “Who is it?”

“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” Dean responds.

“It’s them,” one of them whisper-shouts, too bad we can hear them. But there’s a click and the door opens up a crack, both their heads squeezing to stick out the door. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging,” Dean remarks, looking right over their head to peer into their trailer, “What a shock.”

“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam starts.

“Yeah, um, sorry guys. We’re ahh, a little busy right now,” Ed responds, adjusting his glasses.

“Okay, well, we’ll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website,” Dean says bluntly.

Ed laughs, almost like a bark, “Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell—“

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” Harry adds in, eyes jumping around like he’s paranoid or anxious.

“Uh..thanks for sharing that with us…?” I respond, smiling awkwardly.

“Well, why should we trust you guys?” Ed asks, crossing his arms.

“Look, guys. We all know what we saw last night, what’s in the house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai,” Sam explains.

Dean adding, “That’s right. Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Ed nods slowly, rubbing his chin. “Ed maybe he’s got a point, maybe…” Harry adds softly.

“Nope…” Ed decides and Harry’s demeanor does a full 180 as he says “No,” too.

“Right, so you have no morals,” I conclude, “If—no, not even if, when someone gets hurt their blood’s on your hands.”

“We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth,” Ed defends.

“Well, I have an obligation to kick both of your little asses right now–” Dean threatens through clenched teeth.

“Dean,” I cut him off, holding him back with a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not worth it, god knows you can give ‘em one hit and they’d be crying back to their mommies. Hell, I could tell them that thing about Mordechai and it wouldn’t matter, they just don't care.”

“We should just leave,” Sam adds.

“Whoa…whoa…” the idiots say, interest peaked.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean gives in. With that, we turn back around and begin to walk away, purposely moving slowly. “What you say about…?” Ed asks, trailing after us. “Wait…Wait.” We turn back to them, an unamused look on my face. “What thing about Mordechai you guys?” Harry asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“Don’t tell ‘em,” Dean warns me.

“Not even if they agree to shut down the website?” I ask.

“They’re not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean reasons. I sigh, shaking my head, “You’re right.”

“No wait!” Ed rushes out, “Wait. Don’t listen to him, okay? We’ll do it. We’ll do it.” Like fishes on a hook getting reeled in.

“It’s a secret, Y/N,” Sam reminds, his voice as serious as can be. I look up at the two nerds, their eyes sparkling with intrigue, if they were dogs I'm sure their tails would be flicking behind them, “It’s a pretty big deal, you know. It wasn’t easy to find, so we really have to have your word. You have to promise you’ll shut it all down.”

“Totally,” Ed says. I pause a moment, eyeing them as if I’m really considering it before nodding at Dean. He pulls out some folded papers from the inside of his leather jacket, handing it over to them. “That’s a death certificate from the ‘30s,” I explain, “We found it at the library and according to the coroner the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“That’s right, he didn’t hang or cut himself,” Dean confirms, emphasizing our “find.”

“He shot himself?” Ed asks, a little skeptical as he looks up from the paper. “Yup, it’s all right there,” I answer, “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he’s terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, it’ll kill the sonuvabitch,” Dean adds. They snicker like school girls, the apples of their cheeks brightening with their smiles. Harry spins and bolts it to their trailer, Ed moves more slowly as he follows behind as if he’s trying to play it cool. “Harry,” he mumbles through his teeth, “Slow your roll buddy. They’re gonna know we’re excited.”

“Dude!” I exclaim, laughing a bit as Dean pops a stolen fry into his mouth, “You just finished your food, leave my fries alone.” But he shrugs with that charming smile on his lips, his arm resting on the booth's top, practically stretching out. The golden crisp of oil goodness is hardly missed with a sight like this. He turns his attention to the woodwork of an old goofy fisherman holding a big fish, a string dangling from it. He reaches up and pulls the cord, the fisherman’s mouth moving up and down as it laughs this obnoxious laugh. I myself try not to laugh as I sip on my soda.

Sam reaches up and pulls the cord again, the laughing stopping immediately, “If you pull that string one more time I’m gonna kill you,” he threatens, looking up from his laptop. In all fairness Dean had pulled the cord at least twice already since we’ve sat down, and yet, to me, it was funny every single time. The kind of stupid humor or even stupidly contagious laugh that made you want to snicker. The threatened man across us deadpans, staring at his brother as he slowly reaches up and pulls the cord again. The fisherman barely has time to laugh himself before Sam is pulling it to stop, glaring at Dean. It's like a standoff. Dean snickers, “Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you’re way too tense,” he reasons.

Not having it, Sam gives him a dirty look. Clearly not amused nor having any desire to be amused. Dean sighs, seemingly giving up on his conquest, “They post it yet?”

Sam turns his screen towards me, an easier thing to do then all away around, as he angrily stabs at what’s left of his salad. My eyes scan the screen, immediately landing on the new post, “‘We’ve learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock had a fatal fear of firearms’” I read and I have to admit their choice of words is awfully intelligent sounding, “Hey, look at us, we’re reputable sources,” I point out.

“Reputable copying machine,” Dean corrects a shit-eating grin on his lips. They had fallen into his exact plan, of course they wouldn’t shut down the website regardless of what they promised (good thing it wasn’t a pinkie promise), and of course they would take any information like starving dogs and post it as soon as possible. ‘Obligation to their fans, the truth’ as he had said. “Alright. How long do we wait?” Dean asks.

“Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change,” Sam answers, “I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker.” He picks up his beer bottle and holds it up to us, taking the small victory we gently clink our drinks together in a silent ‘cheers.’ “Sweet,” Dean grins, the light reflecting off of the glass beer bottle, gleaming at its base as it’s tilted up to his lips. I’ve never really understood why one would drink before a hunt, not that one bottle would do anything to him of all people, yet, when his lips are on the rim that sort of thing doesn’t seem to matter. Another interesting thing, drinking has never looked so attractive as it does on him. But perhaps that’s the bias you have when you like someone, somehow everything becomes attractive.

The bottle finally clanks to the table, his hand still wrapped around it. But when he lets the bottle go his palm sticks to it, fingers stretched out he shakes his hand around like the bottle will fall off. It doesn’t. Sam loses it, cracking up even more as Dean says, “You didn’t.”

A little tube of super glue is raised up, “Oh, I did!” he laughs, pulling the cord this time, the fisherman laughs again.

“All I’m saying is as stupid as they are, I do feel bad for them, one of these days they’re gonna wind up dead,” I reason, walking with Sam the short distance back to his motel room.

“Yeah…” he shrugs, “But it’d be on them, I mean they haven’t ran off yet, not even after seeing Mordechai.”

I hum, absorbing his words, “That’s true.” The door is open just a little, like it didn’t close fully behind him when he had left to come get me from my room down the hall. I push open the door, “Do yo—“ my words die in my throat replaced with a gasp as cold water dumps on me. A bucket thumps to the floor, just barely missing my head. My hair and clothes drip as I ball my fists at my side, shock from the sudden cold still rattling in my bones as I shake slightly. “Dean?!” I scold.

“That was not meant for you,” he replies, eyes wide as he sits up in his bed.

I got caught in a prank meant for Sam. But didn’t he know Sam was getting me and that there was a chance that I would walk in first instead of him, which is exactly what had happened???!! I exhale, trying to rid myself of any frustration or annoyance. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” he adds.

I laugh, moving a wet piece of hair behind my ear, “You are so getting it.” My shirt clings to my skin, shoulders bunched up from the feeling. Sam chuckles behind me, I turn slowly towards him and immediately he tries to cover it with a hand over his mouth, “Oh you too Sam, you’re not safe. His hand and face drops, “Why me? I didn’t do it?!”

“No, you're right,” I nod, “But you’re part of the reason it happened, your little prank war.” I look between both boys, “You’re both gonna get it, you Winchesters better watch out,” I threaten. I huff moving past Sam, “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go change before I start stripping in front of you two.”

“I mean—“ Dean calls out and I can hear the grin on his face before I yell back, “Don’t even think about it!” I shuffle off down the hallway, and only back in the safety of my motel room do I fix my situation. I snap my fingers and instantly it’s like nothing ever happened. There’s no need to change when I can do something like that, but what I can do in the privacy of my own room is think of how to get them back and execute it.

******

Early night cloaks the sky, the sun just barley below the horizon as we head to the Impala. A comfortable silence envelopes us. I stop before opening the back door of the Impala, crouching down to re-tie my shoe as they get into their respective sides of the car. The doors seem to shut in sync.

One, two, three, four, five. The doors are being shoved open and they tumble from the car coughing and covering their noses. I stand with a smirk as the smell of rotten eggs escapes the car. “What the hell?!” Dean yells. Sam reaches back into the car, pushing the seat forward to find the source. He fishes out a puffed up square, he holds it by the corner, “Really?”

“Oh, wow, how’d those get there?” I ask, folding my hands in front of me. He gives me a dirty look before throwing the fart bomb to the side. “Real childish,” Dean remarks, holding up his own puffed up fart bomb. “Which part?” I ask, “The pranks or putting fart bombs beneath each of your seats?”

“The bombs, dumbass,” he replies, throwing the little puffed square at me. I laugh, as it hits me in the chest, kicking it away when it hits the floor, “Childish and yet still funny.”

“Yeah if you think gas chambers are funny,” he mumbles.

Our guns are drawn, eyes sharp, brain and body on high alert now that we’re back in the house. The cops had been outside like the night before, but instead of using the idiot ghost hunters as bait Dean had used the stolen fisherman from the diner that he somehow stole. Its current home is now somewhere deep in the woods, a mechanism set up so that it consistently laughs. They were drawn into the forest like pirates drawn to sirens, except what they’ll find is not an attractive mermaid but an obnoxious fisherman.

“I barely have any skin left on my palm,” Dean comments.

“I’m not touching that line with a ten foot pole,” Sam mumbles.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, usually people say that about something. Like ‘I wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole’ but there was nothing brought up regarding touching something. “He’s tryna lead us into an inappropriate joke.” Sam explains. The gears slowly turn in my head, cogs rotating trying to figure out what joke, “Oh! You mean masterbation!”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, and if he hadn’t had both hands trained on his gun I'm sure he’d be pinching the bridge of his nose like a disappointed father.

“So you think old Mordechai’s home?” Dean asks as he move into another room, switching topics.

“I don’t know.”

“Me either,” a voice suddenly says from behind. I spin swiftly around, gun trained.

“WOAH! WOAH!” Ed yells, him and his buddy shuffling back with their hands raised. I scuff, lowering my gun. And of course they’re decked out in their goofy gear. “What did I tell you?!” I exclaim, looking at Sam.

“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” he asks the doofuses.

“We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?” Ed answers.

“Look, the only time you’ll ever be written about is when your obituaries are in the local newspapers,” I spit, not caring how harsh my words are. But Ed doesn’t look defeated or deflated, instead his eyes seem to sparkle, “You are so hot,” he says softly. I drag a hand down my face, sighing, “What part about any of this are you not getting?”

“Why I don’t have your number yet,” he answers. I shake my head, walking away. This is just ridiculous now. “Alright, that’s enough there buddy,” Dean says, placing a firm hand on the guy's shoulder.

Then, the sharp noise of metal on metal comes from behind a door but inches from us. The door to the basement. As if in sync, thinking the same thing, our guns are immediately raised, body and mind back on high alert. “Oh crap,” Ed mumbles and with some shuffling and shoving each other they wind up crowding behind us. Or cowering, if you will. “Uh guys, you wanna…you wanna open that door for us?” Ed asks.

“Why don’t you?” Dean remarks unamused.

Suddenly, the door bursts, wooden shards exploding everywhere as Mordechai bursts through the door holding his axe. Screams and gunshots clash together, the dissonance cracking the atmosphere. I pull the trigger over and over, working at the mechanics of the gun until the cartridge is empty, until there’s nothing left to give. It’s no surprise when the old farmer wavers and disappears into mist with the amount of bullets shot between the three of us, but the real question is did it work?

Once more, we seem to share the same mind as we reload our guns quickly, shoving bullets into the chamber before splitting up. It’s all wordless, movements and thoughts that have been implanted into our mind long before there was even a comprehension of the fact. Every part of my being is on high alert, eyes scanning the room for the spirit. I clear the dusty shell of a room I walk into when I hear a squeal.

Immediately I spin right back around, rushing into the room I stood in only moments ago. I nearly bump into Sam as we meet back in the room only to find Harry on the floor with a shattered camera in front of him. “Hey!” Dean shouts as he enters the room from the opposite side of us, “Didn’t you guys post that B.S. story we gave you?”

“Of course we did,” Ed defends, helping his friend off the floor.

“You know, that didn’t sound all that convincing,” I quip, looking at the destroyed camera. There was no saving that thing and I don’t think any amount of insurance would help it. “But then our server crashed,” Harry corrects.

“So it didn’t take? Dean asks, eyes a little frantic.

“Ummm,” they hum in unison, the noise high pitched as their eyes jump around the room to look anywhere but the gruff man across from them. “So these, these guns don’t work?” Dean laughs darkly, running a hand down his mouth.

“Yeah,” Ed breathes.

“Great,” he murmurs, “Sam, any ideas?”

“We are getting outta here,” Harry declares, no longer concerned with documenting the truth—not that they could. “Yeah. Come on,” Ed agrees. Harry grabs hold of Ed before they run past Dean into the next room. And not even a moment later does girlish screams come from that room.

Yet despite how annoying they are, and all the trouble they’ve caused, Sam and I follow after them. Mordechai corners them against the front door, the boys cower against the door screaming “The power of Christ compels you,” over and over, louder and louder. “HEY! Come and get it you ugly son of a bitch,” Sam taunts. And for whatever reason Mordechai turns and goes after him instead. Sam leads the spirit away from the boys giving me the time to move to the idiots at the door.

I motion for them to move and quickly they shuffle away. I grip the door handle and give it a hard pull, maybe using just a little power to give me more help. The cool breeze blows in as I hold it open for them, the shuffles and grunts of fighting close by, “Go!” I command, pointing out the door. They shove each other as they stumble onto the small porch, Ed turns back before they reach the first step, “So, is your number still on—“

“NO!” I shout, slamming the door in his face. I spin around only to find Sam pressed against the wall with the axe against his throat, pushed higher and higher off the ground until his feet dangle. Immediately I lift my gun and shoot one, two, three, four, five times, glad that the angle I occupy is viewing them at their side. Mordechai disappears in a mist once more, Sam falls to the ground holding his neck as he coughs, but this time I know the spirit isn’t gone for good.

Unfortunately I don’t leave room to ask if he’s okay as I swing around the nearest walkway, “Dean?!” I call, I don’t know where he went off to and I don’t want Mordechai to take advantage of him being alone. “Right here, sweetheart,” he answers, appearing from the next room over. He holds a little metal can of something and when he splashes it around the room as he approaches me I know it must be some flammable liquid.

He nudges me forward, forcing me around before leading me with a hand on my lower back. I move away from his touch to help Sam up from the ground. “Mordechai can’t leave the house, we can’t kill him—we improvise,” Dean explains, shaking what’s left of the can of kerosene.

“Arson…yay,” I answer, watching as he dumps the rest of the liquid. Just then Mordechai appears at the far end of the room, axe raised, he charges at us, “Go, go, go!” Dean directs. I follow after Sam, running to the front door. I hear the flick of the lighter, the clinking of it falling, and the swoosh of flames going up.

We make it outside and down the short steps just as the building quickly ignites in flames. It spreads quickly in the old house, orange and yellow brightening the darkness as the flames lick at the rotting wood. “That’s your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” Sam exclaims, rubbing at his neck.

“Well nobody will go in anymore,” Dean reasons, “I mean look, Mordechai can’t haunt a house if there’s no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works.”

“Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?” Sam counters.

“Well—well then we’ll just have to come back,” Dean stammers, clearly not having thought of that.

The flames consume the entirety of the house, at least it seems that way. It won’t be long till it’s nothing but ashes. The only thing that’ll be remembered is the legends of a man who did not exist, that is if people care to remember at all. And all the while the real story of Martin Murdock and his boys will continue to be forgotten by this town and history. “Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just cuz’ people believed in them,” Sam ponders, the words swirling in the air and lingering like the smoke filling the sky.

“I’d rather not think of that one,” I mumble. Our ‘job’ was complicated enough, it didn’t need another layer. We didn’t need another thing to keep us up at night.

The boys had decided to make a stop to see Ed and Harry before leaving town. I’m not really sure why, I certainly would’ve gone on just fine without saying a farewell. But, atlast we sit at a picnic table in the trailer park, the boys in question walking over with very full grocery bags. “Man, I got the munchies right now,” Ed comments, talking to his friend. Then, his attention turns to us as they stop at the table, “Gentlemen. Gentlelady,” he nods, and I have the suspicion that if he were wearing a hat he would’ve tipped it at us.

“Hey guys,” Sam greets with a simple smile.

“Should we tell ‘em?” Harry asks Ed, stupid smiles on their faces.

“Hey, might as well, you know, they’re going to read about it in the trades,” Ed points out, chin raised.

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, looking up at them. I can’t imagine what they’re gonna say. “So, this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer,” Harry tells us, pride dripping in his voice.

“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean remarks, ripping a laugh from my lips before I can stop it.

“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the morton picture rights. Maybe even have us write it,” Ed boasts, shoving the stuffed grocery bags into their stuffed car, their trailer hitched to the back. “And create the RPG,” Harry adds.

“The what?” Dean asks.

“Role playing game,” I answer. Dean's eyes turn to me, confusion written in his irises, “What?” I defend, “Can’t a girl know things?”

“You know the lingo,” Ed admires, hearts practically shining in his eyes, “Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we’re off to la-la land.”

“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great,” Sam says.

“Yeah. That’s awesome, best of luck to you,” Dean adds. And it’s that that makes me suspicious. It didn’t seem like he had said it sarcastically and from how irritated they had made him I doubt he would mean such a thing sincerely. It’s fishy. “Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It’s about talent. Sheer unabashed talent,” Ed corrects, chest puffed out. I decide to keep my comments to myself, let them have their delusions.

They hop into the overfilled car and start pulling off, “See ya ‘round,” Ed says from out the window, “Call me!” he adds, finger gunning at me. I cringe but ultimately ignore it, I will not be calling him or thinking of them in any degree. “Wow,” Dean exhales, standing up.

“I have a confession to make,” Sam declares, standing up too, hands shoved in his pockets.

“What’d you do?” I ask, laughing.

“I, uh…I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer,” he confesses, a smile trying to pull on the corner of his lips. I can’t help but laugh. It’s certainly a cruel prank and yet so deserved. Dean laughs too, “Yeah, well I’m the one who put the dead fish in their back seat.” Sam joins in on the laughing too, it’s kind of hard not to with the ridiculousness of it all. “My god, you guys are evil,” I smile.

When the laughing dies down Sam says, “Truce?”

“Yeah truce,” Dean agrees, “At least for the next 100 miles.”

[rasshu-benaiokny]

❄️Winter Gyutaro Headcanons❄️

I don’t believe i made a headcanon list before but since I’ve seen millions of them, i want to try. this is how my specific Gyutaro headcanons would go during winter!

-This will contain (x Reader) but not all will be

- Is vague enough to be either romantic or platonic

Gyutaro hates Winter: it’s obvious he would despise the cold season the most; its the hardest season to survive in and it brung back some uncomfortable feelings from lost human memories. Especially that day when he had found Ume… it was the coldest day in his life, it seemed

Gyutaro is less active: Its common knowledge that demons aren’t bothered by simple earthly things like weather, but Gyutaro finds comfort in warmer weather. His malnourished frame doesn’t help him either as his bones crack and ache. Often, he’ll find himself cradled within Daki or within the warm house of his prized person.

Gyutaro is miserable and depressed more: this demon has always been pessimistic but just like many humans, he gets hit with seasonal depression and it hits him hard. So hard that Daki will hunt more to compensate for his lack of enthusiasm. One time, he stayed face down on the ground in Daki’s room for hours, just being depressed because she was out.

He secretly likes the holidays: Gyutaro doesn’t particularly believe in any sort of holiday but he will use them to indulge in Daki. He will pamper his little sister with stolen fabrics and jewels from far away to make her shine with happiness.

His smell is bearable: Since he’s less active and its not horrendously hot, Gyutaro’s bodily odor doesnt come off as bad! Plus, this is the one time he will wash up at vacant hot springs. Hot water relaxing his tension, the steam concealing his figure, maybe a quick snack too if someone catches a glimpse him too.

He’s slightly weaker: after all that time, he hunted less than he should’ve so he does seem weaker after the new years… hes already thin as is but it hurts your heart to see him walk slower, move with less power. He reminds you of those old scraggly stray dogs walking in the snow covered city…

Hes vulnerable/emotional: Despite being so close to him; he never opens up about his current problems to you or Daki but during winter, his shell cracks ever so slightly! If you are perceptive enough, you may be able to nurse his traumatic scars just a little bit. It may not be much, but to him, its the world.

( This actually isnt based off of Rasshu x Gyutaro for once, i just know a bit of Gyutaro stans that are really sweet so, yeah… its based off of those peeps even tho i know they wont beable to see this cuz tumblr be damned to them grawhaha )

[jaeyunluvr]

love you, unconditionally (part 2) pt.1

it has been almost a week since your gut-wrenching sobbing session over your long gone ex and your best friends stuck to you ever since that day. things like this don't happen often but when they do, sunghoon and jaeyun absolutely will do anything in their power to make it better.

actually, they did make it better. it wasn't as depressing when you thought of your ex, it didn't bother you as much either. it probably had been smothered by all the love these two have shown you for the past few days.

currently you were at sunghoon's place, waiting for the popcorn to be cooked as jaeyun picked the movie you were going to watch.

you just sat on the couch as jaeyun scrolled through netflix looking for a certain film, your thoughts began a journey into various topics pausing at none. over the past week you have thought of jaeyun's advice, of giving sunghoon a chance.

you did think sunghoon was a great guy, in fact he was perfect in every way possible. he had good grades, a kind personality, he had a face that any girl would fall for, not to mention the consideration he has for others. and not to mention, at some point of time in your friendship, you developed a little crush on sunghoon but your brain didn't let it bloom, because as best friends, it didn't feel right.

AND. first of all, it was hard to believe someone so perfect like sunghoon would like you romantically. second of all, you weren't sure if you would be able to meet his expectations while being his girlfriend. so you voiced your thoughts to jaeyun.

"i don't think i'd make a good girlfriend for hoon."

jaeyun could've quite literally facepalmed.

"yn you have no idea how insane that guy is. he's like down bad, so down bad. you just have to be there and he'll thank you for it. but for your sake, you would be a good girlfriend. just because your ex doesn't want you, it doesn't mean you're not good enough for him. it's his loss. to be honest, you were too good for him. you're literally an angel baby." he smiled.

"and i'll be honest you both would make such a hot couple, i really wouldn't mind third wheeling."

you laughed. "you'll regret saying that."

"what would he regret saying?" sunghoon emerged from behind the couch, walking into the living room. a white towel hung around his neck, as he picked one end of it to dry his hair, tilting his head to the side a little so he can dry the back of his head. grey shorts barely hanging onto his waist, and plain white tee on top, it's sleeves hugging his biceps.

he looked gorgeous was something you would say out loud. and also hot as fuck was something you wouldn't.

"i said you guys would make such a hot couple, i wouldn't mind third wheeling."

you were already a distracted by how fine sunghoon looked, fresh out of shower, and jaeyun just had to say that. you eyes widened at jaeyun's reply and you turned towards him with a 'why-would-you-say-that' look and he just shrugged, kinda feeling proud for what he did.

"i think that too." sunghoon said nonchalantly. your brain just went 'whaaaatttt' and you felt your heart running at a faster pace. you looked at sunghoon with the 'what-the-hell' look and he smiled, his fangs showing as he walked towards you. by this time jaeyun was already in the kitchen, filling a huge bowl with popcorn for you guys to enjoy while watching the movie.

"i honestly think we'd make a hot couple." this conversation was making you stressed. not in a bad way because you were just too flustered to say anything and sunghoon just chose to look extremely attractive today you couldn't even look him in the eye.

he plopped next to you one the couch, a hand draping around your shoulder, as he rested his head on yours. you could feel his wet hair damping your own, but you didn't mind. you sighed, all sorts of thoughts flooding your brain. give him a chance.

you turned your head a bit, to sneak a look at sunghoon. the way little strands of wet hair graced his forehead, his long eyelashes, his pale skin and the tiny bit of pink blush on his cheeks, his perfectly shaped and moist lips. his lips, they looked so kissable.

you wanted to kiss sunghoon. hold his face in between your palms as he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye–

"GUYS! the popcorn is ready!!!!"

✧

you were getting frustrated as days passed by, your thoughts as unorganized and as confusing as ever. the feelings for your ex are long gone and the only thing in your head right now was sunghoon. you couldn't stop thinking about him, the way he spoke to you with consideration, the way he always bought you food when he visited you at your home, the little things he does for you like throwing out your trash or making you coffee when you're tired.

fuck your best friend for inducing the thought of another man into your head and fuck your other best friend for being that man who's nothing but desirable.

you found yourself down the rabbit hole in a few weeks and you had to admit it, you liked park sunghoon.

you wanted to confess to him, but you weren't sure if this was the right thing. a few days ago you were crying your heart out over your ex whom you thought was the only one for you, but now you just wanted to be with sunghoon and you knew he'd treat you so well. you didn't know if it was right to move on so soon, it messed with your head. and so you turned to jaeyun, who kept playing the decision maker of your life for the past few weeks.

"fucking finally yn." he said as he sighed. you had told him how you've finally come to terms with your feelings and have accepted that you liked sunghoon and wanted to be with him.

"go confess to him, no wait, skip all that slowburn, kiss him. i can't wait to third wheel y'all."

"more like you can't wait to stop your dumb best friends from being dumber than ever." you sighed.

✧

jaeyun's place was the most comfortable out of you guys' homes mostly because he had the best couch, which was big enough to fit in three people (mainly because you guys squeeze into each other) and it made you feel as if you were sitting on clouds.

you sprawled out on the couch, while jaeyun was in his room, dressing up for some meet up with his other friends.

just then you heard the front door click open, sunghoon walked in casually, smiling.

oh gosh that fucking smile.

you heard jaeyun yell for sunghoon from his room. sunghoon flinched at his loud voice but giggled as he looked at you while you laughed back. he shook his head and walked over to his best friend's room from behind the couch, not forgetting to ruffle your hair as he swiftly walked by. your heart fluttered.

they walked back into the living room with jaeyun rushing to the front door, picking up his shoes and slipping them on hurriedly, trying to hold his balance by hopping around.

"alright guys i'm leaving have fun!" he winked at you and sunghoon, while giving both of you a short gaze as if he was conveying something using telepathy.

sunghoon closed the door and walked back to the couch, sitting next to you. a comfortable silence filled the air, while both of you pondered over this and that in your heads, but it was quite obvious you both were thinking about the same thing.

"you know i like you right?" sunghoon blurted the question out. it wasn't something he wanted to say, but the words just jumped out of the train of his thoughts.

it took you so off guard, you mentally panicked. "yes, i guess."

sunghoon let a gentle smile grace his lips. he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening the music app. gentle acoustic music started playing as he lent his hand out to you. you raised your eyebrow at him in confusion.

"let's dance." he pulled you up from the couch, one hand holding yours and another hand on your waist. he held you so gently, as you placed your other hand, slightly pressed against his chest.

sunghoon couldn't take his eyes off you. the warm sunset lighting seeped into the living room, making you look just perfect under the dim scarlet lighting. the way strands of hair fell out of your ponytail, the baby hairs gracing your forehead. your eyes dazzled under the evening light, he could see the sparkle in them.

a little smile adorned your lips as you looked at him. you didn't know why you both ended up in this situation, but the way sunghoon looked at you, his eyes lovestruck just by looking at you, his smile which loved your existence, didn't make you want to question it. you could see he was in love with you. it made your heart swell.

the song filled the atmosphere, as you both swayed to the music. the moment felt like it was straight out of a fairytale. you wanted to get lost in it forever.

'Oh me I fall in love with you every single day'

sunghoon smiled upon hearing the lyric, extending his hand to twirl you. you giggled as you turned around, your eyes landing on his lively face once again. oh you were in love with him.

'I know you will still love me the same'

your eyes landed on his pretty lips. you wanted to kiss park sunghoon. so bad.

'I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways'

nothing mattered to you at this moment. you wanted to kiss him and show him you loved him back. and so you got a light grip of his collar, pulling him down as you tiptoed to press your lips softly against his.

'Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars'

sunghoon was taken aback. he couldn't process it at all. he quite literally froze and you were worried if he didn't like it. why wasn't he kissing you back? you pulled back slowly.

your eyes showed your disappointment and slight embarrassment but as soon as sunghoon realized what just happened, he slipped his hand behind your waist, holding you firmly against him, as he dipped his head down to capture lips in an oh so sweet kiss once again. you reciprocated the gesture as your chest fuzzed with a giddy feeling.

you both pulled apart, looking at each other completely and utterly lovestruck. a slight laugh erupted from your chest, followed by sunghoon's as he threw his head back, laughing contently. oh you were so in love with eachother.

"i love you, y/n." he breathed out.

"i love you too, park." you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest.

'And we found love right where we are'

the song ended with sunghoon's heartbeat resonating through your ears, which you swore was the best sound ever. 

[loser-jpg]

me copy pasting my leona rant from that reblog in a separate post for all to see because i can

bro is just the smartest most cunning and intelligent guy ever. like yeah hes hot and strong but we NEED to talk more about just how much of a strategical GENIUS this man is. he knows just how strong and skilled he is which means in any situation he can immediately judge whoever hes up against and instantly know just how much strength and power to use to win. like he knew in book 6 the second he wasnt gonna win against the styx ppl and knew when to back down but every other situation he knows just how much power to use to win which they like confirm in book 6 he uses just enough to win and never more because he can perfectly judge a situation and like ik on the surface what most people notice about leona is how strong and powerful he is and i mean yeah hes like one of THE strongest people in nrc (in my personal opinion second only to malleus in magic but still more physically strong and more strategic than him) BUT WE NEVER TALK ENOUGH ABOUT THE CUNNING GENIUS THIS MAN IS he is so aware all the time and always knows exactly whats going on, so many events and chapters hes always mentally 5 steps ahead and knows whats going on well before anyone else. i cant remember the exact example but like in the halloween event from this year or smthn he like had a total understanding of the situation long before anyone else cuz hes just so smart and like hes smart like book smart but more importantly hes just aware in ways no one else really is. and about him being book smart i fully believe leona would have some of the highest grades in nrc if he applied himself. the few times he does he does like better than everyone else AND THATS W HIM SKIPPING CLASS SO MUCH imagine if he actually tried and went to class hed 100% have the best grade this man is so intelligent he just sees no reason to go to class because it is frankly useless to him he already knows all that stuff which is why he skips he already knows it so whats the point. like everyone sees leona as lazy but the stuff leonas lazy about is stuff that theres no point to try because he already knows hes better than everyone and thats his thing he doesnt need anyone elses approval he knows where he stands and feels no need to prove his worth to anyone else and i think thats actually so admirable. like for how much we say his low effort is depression (which it deff in part is) its also definitely him not feeling the need to prove himself to anyone because he knows how great he is and doesnt care if anyone thinks other wise because he knows theyre wrong so who cares. and i know he has a big ego but like.. HE CAN BACK IT UP. his ego is all from his own skill and talent this man NEVER claims something he cant back up which its like... ur ego is annoying but whats more annoying is theres valid reasoning behind it because HE JUST IS THAT GREAT

so i fully believe if leona had a significant other hed do everything to give them anything they could want. a lot of fics i read paint leona as this guy who wont really do something for his partner, or will just make someone else do it, and while in some cases i do believe hed deff like make ruggie go grab something or smthn i also believe hed want to take care of his partner. like sometimes its difficult to take care of yourself, but oh so easy to take care of someone else because its not you. and i fully believe this would apply to leona. if he has something, and its his he 100% takes care of it. he will put in the effort for someone else. he wont put in the effort for himself but for his partner? in a heartbeat. like even somethin small and typically annoying to do the only complaints youd hear are joking ones while hes already doing whatever you asked. and he also deff knows what to do for his partner before even they know. like i said before this man is canonically sooooo aware and that would deff hold up in a relationship. rarely have to ask for anything because hes already guessed what you want and is on it. also a lot of time i see people saying leona would want to brag about their partner and while i think this is true to an extent i also feel like hed want to keep his partner all to himself. something for just him that no one else needs to know about, or have their own opinions, or make their own comments.

[afvall]

whumptober day 2! Trust issues

truthful Timmy the blowjob queen of Saskatoon (Wade) and Nathan have a marital spat. Who knew whumptober could be so Fluffy? Don't worry, it'll get worse.

--

God Believes in Me

--

Wade regarded his mind as a very sacred place, despite the fact half of its inane machinations would make their way out of his mouth anyways. Yet despite that, his mind was still his own, one of the few places he could exist not in a state of constant, neurotic apprehension of being perceived. He knew he appeared so unfiltered and obscene in comparison to everybody around him, he knew that his marred flesh and even more vulgar personality both weren’t things he went at length to hide, but when it came to his teammates, his friends, his f word, he could get a bit deranged about his shortcomings, and how he showed them. That's where being able to wallow in his own thoughts came in clutch. He wanted to be able to go into his own hysterics all by his lonesome about fucking up a mission, compulsively wipe down his katanas and clean his guns far longer than necessary as his cancer-ridden obsessive little mind ran itself into disorientating circles. It was one of his few comforts in this world, drugs and self pity, Vanessa used to be on the list, but Wade had let her die, so she wasn’t there anymore.

There was one problem to his perfect routines however, one interruption in the face of his fetish for his own shame, that nosey, telepathic bitch, Nathan Summers, Nathan ‘you remind me of my wife’ (while applying chapstick!) Summers. Unlike the author of this fic, Deadpool has read the comics, he knew that comic Nate was telepathic, but not this one. He’d thought that in his second movie’s two hour run, Cable’s telepathy might be brought up once, but as it wasn’t, he simply assumed that this Cable wasn’t telepathic. And wow, what a shit draw huh, 5 '8 and telepathy-less? It would be depressing if it wasn’t a little funny, as most things were in and around Wade’s life. However, of course that couldn’t be the case, because poor Wade couldn’t be afforded even a second of mercy in this hellish world, couldn’t be afforded the sanctity of his own mind, and now having escaped the constrictions that telling a 3 act story over 2 hours put upon Nate’s powers, he didn’t seem to mind using them as much as he did before.

“I'm still pissed off about how you decided to be a little shit rather than listen to the orders i gave you during our job yesterday, i don’t wanna hear the memory of it and all your shame prattling around in your mind all day, it’ll just make me angry again.” Nathan sipped boredly on a cappuccino sitting in a takeaway cup he’d brought back from a café, alongside a mocha for Wade which had already been scoffed down while burning hot and its cardboard carcass chucked into the bin. Wade didn’t get how he could slip in little kind gestures between all that dickishness and not expect Wade to have an aneurysm about it.

“If you can read my mind, how come you’re still such an asshole to me? Surely empathy is a bit easier when you can literally see inside someone’s head” Wade desperately wanted to be left alone right now, to cry about his own shortcomings to the barrels of all his handguns, instead of having every thought of his heard by Nate. The coffee was nice but he’d had enough people-time today.

“Well technically i can only read your surface thoughts and emotions, or shit that you push to the front, the cancerous wad in your cranium is harder to read than most people’s” Wade wasn’t sure what constituted as ‘surface’ or ‘pushed to the front’ as he wished he could get back to being neurotic and sad all by his lonesome. Could nate tell that he really was properly freaked out about fucking up so many missions? Would he care?

“Get out of my head if you don’t wanna see what’s in there, Nate.” Wade stated, pretty matter-of-factly. His head was his space, not Nates, and Nate didn’t even like being there.

“Its not like im trying to get in there, theres just this constant nervous aura coming off of you whenever you fuck up after a mission. Its really fucking difficult to ignore.” Nate stared smugly, telepathic bitch.

“I reckon you’re fucking lying about not being able to not read my mind.” Wade nips back, “and I think you think you can see more of what’s in my mind than what’s actually in there. Im not trying to make your day shittier Nathan, im not trying to get out of paying the penance for my fuck ups with all my guilt.” Wade thought about this pinterest poetry post he saw once while channelling his inner fourteen year old girl–’The dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn't. My guilt will not purify me.’–but decided that it was a bit too pretentious to verbally reference in a cablepool angst fic, even in whumptober. X-men angst always seemed a bit more gritty than melancholy, a bit more blood than tears.

Nathan looked at him with an expression that was undeniably just a tad bit softer. Whether it was from Wade’s inane fourth-wall related thoughts mulling over this situation or the point he’d just made, Wade was unsure.

“I'm not lying about being unable to not read your mind Wade, your thoughts are pretty difficult to block out.” Nate didn’t comment upon the second half of Wade’s little outburst. Wade wondered if Nate trusted what he said, but Wade believed Nate when he said Wade’s thoughts were difficult to block out. Honestly he’d simply used that weaker opinion as a way to segway to the truth of his paranoia. But would Nate trust Wade’s truth? Wade tried to push all his genuine nature and remorse to the forefront of his mind, but didn’t know if it worked that way.

Nate suddenly looked a bit awkward as he went quiet, looking at Wade with furrowed brows and a face more scrunched up than not.

“I'm sorry, it's been a pretty long week.” Wade was fine with receiving a half-excuse-half-apology hybrid, he just wanted to know Nate believed him. Wade paused for a moment, letting the cogs in his brain churn sluggishly as he continued peering at Nate.

“Im sorry im such a little shit sometimes, and fuck stuff up for the team.” for my f word. Nate smiled, chuckling softly, just a tad, in the way that made Wade’s heart jump in his chest.

“We’ll work on it?” Wade knew Nate was referring to both of them, working on their trust of one another, and the way they treated each other, on the battlefield and at home.

“We’ll work on it.”

[pageofheartdj]

Lucifer would for SURE have that insecurity. Pulling away? Not wanting to make the first step towards communication? Feeling out of place and like he doesn't belong? I bet the other's would catch on and they'd all develop their own approaches into encouraging Lucifer out of his depression cave, so to speak.

Alastor would probably annoy him out of it but if that didn't work would probably ask Rosie or Lilith for help? He's got a reputation as the Unflappable Radio Demon to uphold (headcanon: Alastor is awkward with emotions and doesn't quite know what to do so he sorta.. either doesn't say anything when he has to deal with emotions with others or is snarky because he at least knows how to do that. He develops his own way of showing appreciation and comfort though)

Alastor and Rosie ABSOLUTELY would have gossip sessions. Lilith might join in just to hear the updates about some big drama (ugh Susan) and offer tea and biscuits or something? Lucifer popping in with a snarky comment but wanting to just sit back and enjoy their company is sweet!

I could see Rosie's insecurity maybe coming from wanting to help everyone and feeling sorta guilty that she isn't in cannibal town there to help 24/8? Like, she might get worried that she'll miss something or something could happen to the town while she's gone?

Lilith uhhh. Maybe she feels out of place? The rest either did something to piss off god (lucifer) or actively earned their spot in hell, meanwhile she just.. didn't want to be a servant to an asshole of a man. Like, absolutely fair but probably doesn't feel equivalent to literally gifting humanity freewill and whatever Al and Rosie were up to. She's in between a fallen angel and human but didn't really live the life of either?

Charlie would be SO supportive and Alastor would take such joy in flexing that he has some of/literally the most powerful demons on "his side" (they love him despite being showy sometimes).

Maybe there'd be some tension between Luficer and Alastor because Al is more like the stereotypical devil than Lucifer is?

They're all so silly and quirky and have such potential xD honestly relationship goals tho? In a polycule (queer platonic, in my case) where everyone can get along in different ways and support each other and be comfortable being themselves?? Goals xD

Yeah the feeling of shame and guilt will keep appearing and therefore 'who would want to someone like him, cant even create anymore' TT

Oh I absolutely believe being geniunely open and vulnerable is extremely hard to Alastor! His smiles and sharp behaviour is not just a mask but a protective comfortable layer! And even if he tries to be more close it's still the default that is hard to pass by. I believe he can muster something actually real if the other person will be so crushed they aren't reacting to anything else anymore!!

Honestly Rosie and Alastor are a nice tag team xD He deals with the depressed king when he is too inside of his head, he can be manhandled by Alastor xD And when he is actually responsive, Rosie can step in and gently reassure him. And Lilith will give this 'do you love us? respect us? we would never stay with someone we dont care about and you know it'. This harsh love xD

I really like how in terms of dealing with stress and trauma Alastor pushes forward and Lucifer pulls away😭

I've read Rosie likes cooking! Like Al!! Imagine them preparing food for private lunches! I hc Lucifer is a decent cook, but there is not point in trying when these two are amazing XD And Lilith can watch over and make sure they aren't slipping something more fleshy XD So in the end they just sit there and Rosie gives all the hot goss with Alastor and Lilith joining in and Lucifer chilling while following their conversations and occasionally commenting <3

OH she might! She is very envolved with her community and she probably takes to heart when she fails someone while she expected not to! I LOVE characters that put too much on their shoulders!!(she is just like Charlie fr fr)

I don't know with Lilith. It seems she got all she wanted: got away from Adam, got an awesome new home where she 'thrived'. I do wonder if she is... vengeful? SHE got it all good, but her husband was crushed and he never properly recovered. She might be furious with Heaven for this. And for exterminations.

Oh Alastor is truly an attention seeker, he would always flex his partners in public(but never be actually intimate with them because it is for HIM to see only!)

It may be at the beginning? But it would be fun if Lucifer will actually use Alastor's scariness xD Oh you want a scary devil? I can give you something scary xD And Alastor enjoys it, intimidating and jumping people is his favourite type of fun xD

*sigh* All their dynamics are so fun it's a treat <3 (Rosie and Lilith having ohoho mean gossip sessions with their 'pathetic' looks on others(ugh Susan), Rosie and Alastor going on hunts and cooking together, Alastor and Lucifer having improvised lighthearted musical competitions(full blown dance numbers), Lucifer and Lilith going to concerts and theatres incognito, Lilith and Alastor having violent and fun radio podcasts, Rosie and Lucifer going to hellborn balls and Cannibal Town gatherings)

(for me it's only QPR cause everyone else can mess around and I'll jump in for a short smooch and be out jkhj XD)

[mermaidsirennikita]

hiya, do you have any recs that mostly takes place during a countryside house party?? like what i did for a duke and the viscount who loved me and etc. No real plot, just a couple of dumdums stuck together in a house, falling in love in ~literal~ days lmao

Hmmm

Joanna Shupe's Fifth Avenue Rebels kicks off with a beachside house party in Newport. One of my favorite series of all time—the latter two books take place largely back in New York, but most of The Heiress Hunt (the first book) and a lot of The Lady Gets Lucky (the second) take place at the house party. You have some overlapping timelines stuff, and of course it all leads up to the final book, The Duke Gets Even, when you learn that there was muuuuuch more to that house party than what was originally thought...

Again, beach instead of countryside, but it's very much the same thing But With Water Shenanigans. Also tennis. Nobody has a job. People hide. It's great.

A lot of Grace Callaway's The Viscount Always Knocks Twice takes place at a house party. This being a Grace Callaway book, there's a mUUUUURDER (which the intrepid heroine decides to solve, while the stern, flustered hero is all "PLEASE. SIT DOWN. SIX FEET AWAY." to no avail) and it's super fun. Like, please know that Grace Callaway murders are not like normal murders. I don't always love a mystery, but she does it in a way that props up the romance, versus the other way around.

Also, this is another one where in a later book (my favorite Grace book) Regarding the Duke, you find out that OTHER STUFF happened at the house party. Namely, Adam Garrity attempting to scheme his way into seducing a woman for power and money, only to play himself as it turns out Oh No, He Loves His Wife.

Infamous by Minerva Spencer largely takes place at a Christmas-adjacent (but Christmas isn't really the point, though people do sled and get snowed in together) country house party. There are actually two romances, and the heroes are twins. The nerdy twin (who is very slutty now, but in a super efficient way) runs into the woman who bullied him back when she was the hottest girl on the block. But NOW she's an old lady's paid companion and has fallen on (very) hard times. And naturally.... it's on. The titled twin has been married to a woman he had to marry due to a compromise situation (which was the aforementioned hot girl's fault) for the past decade. They have a totally quiet, dutiful marriage where they only do it for procreative purposes. Two kids in, they get along fine but it's very distant. Except. He's SUPER in love with her now. And he wants the marriage to be real!!!!

A Rake's Rules for Seduction by Caroline Linden is a house party book. In this case, the hero is best friends with the heroine's brother, and he was about to court her six years ago after realizing his feelings, but then she got engaged to another man. Now she's a depressed widow, and he is a NOTORIOUS rake who everyone talks shit about. But.... the feelings are still there. And things go down. Mostly him.

A Rogue's Rules for Seduction by Eva Leigh is one where they're at a house party except it's on an ISLAND, and this is important because the hero and heroine absolutely don't want to see each other, what with him leaving her at the altar a while ago. But their friends are like "TOO BAD. LOVE IS HAPPENING." and basically they trap 'em on the island. And they're like D:. It's great.

Goddess of the Hunt by Tessa Dare... I can't remember if this is a house party book, exactly? But I feel like it is. Everyone is at a house. It's in the country. The heroine and the hero are stuck in a closet together at some point (this also happens in The Viscount Always Knocks Twice, it's a historical thing). The hero is friends with the heroine's brother, and the brother basically sends him in to distract her, as she's trying to seduce their OTHER friend, who's supposed to marry another woman. Real feelings ensue.

Never Seduce a Duke by Vivienne Lorret has, I believe, a house party situation. The hero and heroine met each other in this very insane situation wherein he thought she was stealing his priceless Arthurian cookbook. Then he chased her across Europe for a minute, and she didn't realize this was like... a thing. THEN. Things Happened. THEN. They got separated and she was unable to reach him. Which was a bit of a problem, as she had a Thing Which He Really Should Have Been Notified Of after the Other Thing Happened. A Special Souvenir, you could say. An Unexpected Eurotrip Consequence. Anyway, he shows up at her brother's country estate for like, a gathering situation (I forget exactly why, but you get me) and everyone is together, and this girl has to cover up the fact that she absolutely had this man's baby, wasn't able to tell him, and now has to deal with his feelings.

It's really funny AND really hot, and I would recommend heartily. I believe Lorret's The Wrong Marquess, which is in the same series but a couple books earlier, also kicks to a house party at some point in the book. I also love this one. The hero initially hates the heroine who he sees as a bad influence on his little sister (who's actually.... the one who gets pregnant on a Eurotrip.... so idk points may have been made there in retrospect) but he later becomes oBSESSED. She's waiting for another man to propose, but during this whole countryside excursion, he makes his argument for banging known.

Oh. OBVIOUSLY, the first two Wallflowers books take place in large part at Westcliff's big country estate and various house party shenanigans occur. In Secrets of a Summer Night, Operation Trap a Man takes place there, with Annabelle accidentally trapping Simon. And in It Happened One Autumn, Westcliff is all "all of my friends and also that annoying girl Lillian who I want to impregnate should visit my house!!!! Even my broke slutty friend Sebastian!!!!"

[nicolos]

been rewatching clips from S2 and thinking about silverflints big fallout which basically starts when flint lies to silvers face and ends w silver lying to flints face

and I think it's so interesting that it's resolved only in 303 when silver says fuck you, im smarter than you think and also we should be friends . because in hindsight I don't think it's we should be friends that gets to flint.

like look. silvers whole thing is using what he knows about people and watching them to get his way. flints is being convincing through power of will and belief. when flint tells silver the gold is still valuable, after silvers watched him convince people things with lies for a season and a half AND been his partner in crime for half a season, he's like cool cool cool, I thought we had a thing but guess not :) this is obviously made worse when Max calls him one of flints men. he's not one of the crew, max, he's his evil little buddy! he doesn't get taken in by flints little ideas and speeches?

ofc right after flint does this again twice in the season: once when he asks him where the fuck else he has people who care what he says (even though it was also true) and again when he was all "hello ~mr quartermaster"

and I think combined w the loss of control and the fact that flints "where would you even go" has become more evident than ever w the leg, silver *has* to get his own back. sure, the truth about the urca gold would out as soon as they got back to Nassau, so he does need to seize control of the narrative, and pretending it was the mens' idea (men whom he chose!) is saving his own skin, but this is the actual moment of fracture for flint. not - i think - because he thinks silver is lying, but because if this is true, silver isn't who he thinks

from his pov silver is useful (and funny and hot) because of his observational skills and ability to see the truth of men. one of the wildest things he does early in the season is ask silver what he thinks of him! and immediately gets upset when silver can identify his problem! SO he's been having a fun and flirty time right until he wasn't (for other plot reasons). i don't think he can fathom that silver knows he's being lied to, because he doesn't think that he's lied; flints whole thing is believing himself very much, to whatever end. but if silver couldn't tell that those guys were (1) unsuitable for their task and also (2) lying to him about the gold being gone, then silver isn't really as good as he thought. and if he can be taken in by one of the crew - that means his being able to read flint and match him isnt because he's partner material, it's just guessing and hoping. he is - after all - just one of flints men!

it's not about usefulness because obviously silver is doing the quartermastering fine, and it's not Quite about the loss of the gold, the whiplash between 210 and 301 - it's because from that pov silvers silly little asides look like trying to be something that he's not. (also because of the grief and rage and depression that he's not interested in looking at, but *is* willing to talk about like a month later after their shark-based heart to heart)

silvers upset because flint is underestimating him is obviously layered, but it's the evenness lost that he seems so deeply aware of. "he had me there, Billy" "i see him! (and he doesn't even acknowledge it!)" theres fear and paranoia and wanting to do his job right, but he is, i think, aware of the reason for this underestimation, and knows and hates when flint is playing him because flint thinks he CAN. the solution to both can only be the awareness that yes, we can deceive each other, no, no one else in our immediate vicinity can, and yes, this is best when we're working together

i think after 303 is also the last time they have any serious lies between them - which is also why the 410 flashbacks bother flint so much, because silver tries to tell him an easy story and a lot of silvers lies are about being small and helpless (in contrast to flints self-beliefs about being big and powerful), and also why nothing flint says after silver finds out madis alive could convince him to do anything but take the most direct way out - because it sounds a lot like "the gold is still a priority"

[poisonedspider]

HEAD CANON DROP because I think too much when talking to the SQUAD lol. This is going to seem all over the place because I'm trying to remember as I go along so. Also some of these might be repeats because my brain just goes oooo yeah that. And some of these pertain to other muses and you absolutely do NOT have to go along with them. If they go with other muses, it's up to that mun's discretion. This is just for if I'm NOT writing with that muse.

Anthony absolutely went to Catholic school. Italian New Yorker in the early 1900s? Come on. It's definitely also where he got a lot of his religious guilt from (see all my notes of his internalized homophobia). He didn't retain a lot of it because Henroin would pull him and Aracniss out of school consistently, most likely when Anthony was around 13 years old (that's a teenager and therefore an adult, right?) in order to train them in the mafia lifestyle. Molly continued with school and honestly that's probably a huge reason she got to Heaven (minus the fact she's a literal sweet fucking angel).

SPEAKING OF MOLLY. Because this is a huge part of my storyline with the squad. Molly is the MAIN reason that Angel wants to be redeemed. After seeing how the angels are, he really doesn't think Heaven is all that great (stfu I'm ignoring their finale about filling the hotel with sinners to be redeemed because if I saw Adam and his dick waffles coming to kill my friends I'd be like...fuck this Hell is better). He also still doesn't fully believe he CAN be redeemed (since Val owns his soul). But he wants to get to Heaven to see Molly. To at least apologize to her, because he knows his overdose impacted his twin and it was devastating for her to have to bury him when they were so close and for her to be left with their shitty dad and brother and he just...wants to own up to that.

Angel Dust does not want to be an Overlord. Ever. Period. I'll do a good Overlord AU (what can I say, he's hot like that), but in my canon timeline there's no way. Other than Husk (which I fucking hope we get Overlord Husk flashbacks or maybe it leads to some FEELINGS between them both because I know damn well Husker was a dick), Angel has never met a GOOD Overlord. He does not trust them. He does not want to be in that position of power. He does not want to own anyone's soul, because he's felt how awful it is to be on the receiving end. He did not ever actively choose to be in the mafia, so being the Mafia Overlord that everyone does in fanon just makes no sense to me. Angel has the MAKINGS of an Overlord. He is so much more powerful than he looks. But all he has ever wanted is to genuinely be able to be himself - power was never on his list.

Showers. Random head canon is random. But if Angel Dust showers with you, that means he has INTENSE trust for you. Because that boy hates his feet. He wears his boots everywhere, including while filming porn. BUT he is not wearing those in the shower (first off do you know what happens to pleather if it gets wet jfc). So he HAS to have his little spider feeties out. He doesn't allow ANYONE to see them, so consider yourself lucky if you do. This is also why I hc that he is super paranoid of Vox's cameras in his room and dressing room. Not only bc it means Vox gets to watch all his break downs (that asshole), but because it's when he's at his most vulnerable and has to actually strip fully (boots included) to change. Even in his own room he's still always wearing like knee high stockings or little fluffy sockies. Just in case.

Angel Dust has intense bits of mania. I'm throwing this in there as a psychologist. Honestly in that sort of lifestyle, it's hard NOT to have manic episodes. Elaborate spending habits. High drug addiction. Sexual rebellion. And then the crashes hit, which is when we see the extreme breaks in depression, the irritability, the tantrums. He will get fucking bouts of energizer bunny energy if he is in a panicked state and do the most chaotic fucking stuff that if he looked back on while he was stable he would probably be embarassed by.

Here's the whole DEPENDS ON THE MUN (I'm looking at you Plum lol) but my Angel Dust has purchased a lot of Valentino's guns for him. Maybe because he felt he needed to get even about Nuggets, idk. I love the fanon thought that Angel, who is incredibly skilled with guns, is who actually trained Val how to shoot. I think it would be a cute af bonding activity (back when they were an item not item). And that Angel would probably have bought him a gun once he thought Val knew how to handle it properly. (I'm going to debate if it was Money Shot specifically because I also agree with my bb Plum that Vox probably bought Val that but also like Val is incredibly protective/possessive over anything to do with Angel so....I could see both. Depending on my mood lol.)

Angel Dust doesn't eat pork. That's it, that's the post.

Angel Dust writes a lot of his own songs. I will forever and always HC that Poison was a legit song that played through Hell (maybe NOT including the last verse) because you can't tell me that black fit wasn't a music video. I also know Paranoid DJ is not remotely canon but Use Me Up is a fucking bop so. Angel writes a lot of his music, and uses it as a way to express himself and his feelings.

Angel learned a lot of his speaking patterns from Valentino. Notice that both Val and Angel have a 'voice' that they put on for the public (which sorry to both but is arguably fairly loud and obnoxious). But when they're being themselves, have pretty different voices. Not only does Val sound way different in the finale song, but we see how different he is when he's talking directly to Angel rather than his 'public persona'. Angel is the same. And I bet he learned that from Val, that a good celebrity is a complete act, voice included.

Angel Dust doesn't know how to read. I said what I said. Well, he does NOW, but he didn't when he first died. As mentioned, he went to Catholic school, which not only doesn't teach too much about reading directly, but he was pulled out constantly. I THOROUGHLY BELIEVE that he did not read the contract, not only because he trusted Valentino to protect him, but because he was unable to. Honestly Angel also strikes me as the type with undiagnosed dyslexia, so. He learned how to read over time, but he didn't fully know what he was signing. (And don't tell me it's because he is too dumb to sit and read that whole thing. He's an incredibly smart boy. He knows how to manipulate things. He wouldn't just sign his soul over without knowing what the fine print said).

Contrary to popular belief, I don't think Angel would initiate anything with Husk. He took the hint, he backed off. It's so obvious he's head over heels, but since their talk in Loser Baby, he hasn't really hit on him much by his standards. Kind of a ball is in his court thing. And then when they finally get together, Angel is so timid to initiate sex because he doesn't want to come off as 'fake' or just in it for that, so he just goes insane (see manic episode) until Husk feels ready.

If you disrespect the Italian language at all, he is so going to hit you in the face. This includes comparing Italian to other languages. He doesn't care how close it is to Spanish - they are different languages with different dialects and he gets fussy.

I've mentioned this before, but Angel is actually incredibly good at respecting boundaries. He pushes them, but he also knows when no means no. It's why we stop seeing him hitting on Alastor after Episode 1. As someone who has had his boundaries crossed and pummeled and consent taken away, he isn't going to do that to others. He knows when to back off.

Angel hates Travis. That's it, that's the post. We know per the pilot that Travis uses Angel off the clock (yes, per Angel's consent, but I'm getting there) for sex 'under the table.' You're telling me that fuckass works at the studio and hasn't tried to get with Angel multiple times? Thinks that because he works for Val that he also has access to Hell's hottest porn star? Yeah, fuck that guy.

Okay I thiiiiiiiiink that's all for now. Will more come up? I am guaranteed they will. But it's been awhile since I've done a good HC drop.

[ravenbloodshot]

Juyeon- The Boyz....Insecurities vs Confidences

Insecurities

He's insecure about having romantic interest in a person and the love never being reciprocated (he may fear a lover falling out of love with him). I don't think he's the type of guy to do well in sex only relationships or even during those moments in relationships when the couple fights and may give each other silent treatment , he could really break down and feel really hurt by silent treatment (not giving him love/attention). I don't know if you guys have ever seen the video of an experiment done on a baby where the mom at first plays with the baby and gives it attention then suddenly acts cold/unresponsive (its like a test to see how parental neglect effects kids). My point is the babies reaction when the mom starts to 'neglect' the baby is quite a similar reaction Juyeon would have when feeling 'neglected' by a lover or friend. (The link please watch to get my point 👉

He can feel like he's not doing enough or bringing enough value to his group. I wonder if he wishes to be the shield or sacrificial lamb to protect the ones he love (he hates to sit by and watch others suffer which could lead him to do dumb things in the name of protecting others, martyr vibes).

He has very depressive and self depreciating thoughts about himself at times. He really could have a hard time seeing what others see in him (like fans), not knowing why they like him and if he ever made a mistake, he wonders if they all would still love him or discard him. (Juyeon is the type of person that when he's feeling good about himself, he feels like a KING. But when he's feeling bad, he's the 'scum' of the earth, in his eyes).

He's insecure about his lack of power sometimes. Especially when it comes to being an idol, some actions are out of his control a lot and could make him feel very small when he doesn't have a say/voice.

I don't think Juyeon should be alone when he has his depressive episodes. For some people, being alone is what they need to feel better. But for him, being alone will just validate his warped opinions of "he can only rely on himself, and himself isn't good enough either", he really needs the care and company of loved ones during these times.

He's insecure about how sensitive and emotional he can be

Confidences

He's confident when he's using his power (whether physical, financial, mental etc..) to protect others and fight for what he believes in. Juyeon definitely is a sort of freedom fighter in a sense, and he isn't afraid to become violent if he has to. He can tap into his masculinity and is comfortable in that energy

Juyeon is confident when he's behaving fatherly (may like kids or just taking care of others). He may like to be the one that gathers people up to have a big dinner and spend quality time together. Awww the vibes I'm getting is so sweet, like when Eric said Juyeon cuddled up with him and spent time with him since he knew Eric had no family in korea to visit during the holidays. Juyeon is definitely a pleaser and caretaker, very comfortable in that role.

Juyeon may be confident in doing his job. Like he knows about the in and outs of the idol industry and what it takes to look good, attract fangirls. He knows how to pose his body the right way at a photoshoot, he knows when to throw finger hearts at the fans and when to act coy, he knows how to make the girls wish they could be with him and the guys wish they could be him .......he just knows what it takes to be the hot celebrity type (if you were an idol that wanted to know the fine details of what it takes to make it in the industry, go to Juyeon, this boy knows every trick in the book).

Juyeon may be confident in his ability to argue/debate. May like doing it too.

He trusts his judgement, like he doesn't second guess his decisions and is quite adventurous/spontaneous. Even when he has no idea what a venture might take him, he still is confident and excited about doing something new and unknown

The Joke Is on You is a song that fits this readings energy

[the-gentleman-pining]

Decided to rewatch OFMD S2 eps 1-3 and actually jot down my thoughts as I go! Oh what fun! Ngl this is mostly for me babes but if you enjoy it that's neat ❤️

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

Stede bearded in his dream could just be playing to swashbuckling archetypes for funsies, but is it some lingering wish that he was more masculine?

Con O'Neil truly graceful about it with the sword huh

"WHERE IS HE. WHERE'S ED?" Stede seeing Izzy as the thing that is keeping Ed from him when he's the one that left lol ok

His idealised version of Ed doesn't hold him accountable either. My mans doesn't want to face what he did at all!!

His first words to Ed in his letter are reassuring him that the crew are safe, as if he doesn't remember that Ed marooned them and left them for dead on purpose??

I know it's meant to be funny but Jackie was a bit of a sex pest toward Swede at first and the power dynamic was a bit 🫤 Glad he was into it in the end!

WHY DOES WEE JOHN SLAM THE HEAD OF THE ONE WHO GOT STABBED INTO THE TABLE INSTEAD OF THE ONE WHO STABBED THEM?? 😂

Stede truly is unphased by people being assholes to him and I just,,, respect it.

Ricky your vibes are strange and unsettling

Who in their right mind would have an ocean wedding in the golden age of piracy?? I know they probs didn't know it was the golden age of piracy while they were in it but STILL

Ed looks so dead behind the eyes 😭 Just going through the motions eh buddy?

Dressed up like the book Blackbeard I see. God he's trying so hard to inhabit this character.

I would die for Archie. Truly the himbo we need in these depressing angst riddled times.

Jim asking someone else how they're bottling things up?? Hello?? Who are you and what have you done with Jim?? Aren't you the bottling up Master? Olu bewitched you too good and now you've unlocked Feelings 😔

"He's actually a good guy" Stede babygirl did we actually forget the marooning???

I have so much I could say about how Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship has deteriorated hhhhh,,,, Izzy is a problem child but I'm so glad the story is crashing towards his character actually growing and changing. In season 1 he at least got the crumbs Ed would throw him like "I need you here", now he's only getting abuse and maybe he's throwing himself at it because he recognises he had a part to play in reaching this point and believes he deserves it.

Fang's delivery on "how you doing Izzy" will keep me warm and fed all winter. Masterclass in approaching someone, truly tender and genuine but not too pressuring. God.

That second "unhand me" hhh the panic of realising you're going to start crying if the situation continues

Con is gonna rip my heart out and eat it this season if I'm not careful

Labour exploitation Jackie what a girlboss x

Why does "you'll be having a lot of breakfastseses together" sound so ominous though 😭 Smeagol Jackie my worstie...

Stede doing Blackbeard Voice is adorable but damn he really doesn't believe that he made Ed's life better. Like how??? Why doesn't Stede equate happiness with better? Ed was explicitly happier around you ya dingus!

Swede deserves his married bliss so much. The crew can be so mean to him!!

"What am I to you" and "I have... love for you" are said so softly I'm gonna be sick,, Izzy you fucked it by wrestling this man into this particular coping mechanism and your tenderness is coming wayyyy too late. Heartbreaking tbh cause the guy didn't know how else to help Ed and now he's realising it could have been different. Sick and twisted little dynamic I'm eating it like good soup.

Definitely supposed to be taken that Izzy didn't realise "talk it through" was a Stedeism as he said it but godddd you idiot dude

Once again god bless you Archie I'd die for you

Fang I want to rescue you hhhhhh my hot topic fashionista must be so dehydrated from all these tears!!!

No way in hell Ed expected anything else out of Izzy's mouth than something about Stede, but god I wish the guy had just payed attention to Frenchie shaking his head. The catharsis of saying the quiet part out loud wasn't worth your leg, man.

"Start by cleaning up that mess"... yeah we def see Ed is killing people himself again but outsourcing the Big Job on Izzy makes sense. He's also exactly the kind of self sabotager atm that would know Frenchie won't do it, and he's looking for reasons to Be Worse.

Indigo heist my beloved. Fuck those hammies up!! I love how loud Black Pete was omg 😂

Oh fuck off Ricky I know you're a S1 Stede mirror but you're doing it detestably

Roach why is your instinct to immediately put the blue dirt on your face darling

Zheng Yi Sao completely unphased by Jackie is giving me so much delight

Sexy Dutchman 😭😂 Jackie never change

I love that Zheng Yi Sao is taking the whole crew on just to have her lil Olu moment, get it girl

TENDER JIM IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM THEY'VE COME SO FAR. I LOVE THEIR BIG SMILE 😭 (also Archie is so wholesome what is she DOING here???)

Ed oh my god you're not alright at ALL

Frenchie's quiet "sounds like a plan" is just so... painful. The acting this season is off the charts.

When Roach asked if they were in soup now I thought he was referring to the ocean as soup I'm an idiot 😭

[nancydrewwouldnever]

Advocate January 2009 Interview

Chris Evans: Not Another Gay Interview

Chris Evans is a serious actor, but that doesn’t mean he wants you to stop objectifying him.

By Brandon Voss

January 05 2009 12:00 AM EST

After working a whipped-cream bikini in the 2001 spoof Not Another Teen Movie, Chris Evans fried phone lines in Cellular and melted hearts as The Human Torch in the Fantastic Four films. Next seen as a telekinetic troublemaker in February’s sci-fi thriller Push, the 27-year-old revisits his steamiest photo shoot and outs his even hotter gay brother.

This may come as quite a shock, but gay men enjoy you. I was well aware of that. I remember my mother saying, “Chris, do you know you’re #2 on some gay list [AfterElton.com’s Hot 100]. Brad Pitt is #12!” I was like, “What?!” I couldn’t believe it.

That was 2007. I hate to break bad news, but you dropped to #8 in ’08. Aww, that’s outrageous! Who took my spot?

I forget, but Jake Gyllenhaal was #1 for both years. What? Jake? Unacceptable. [Laughs]

It couldn’t hurt to play a gay role next. I really wanted to be a part of Milk, but I lost out to James Franco. I guess if you’ve got to lose, he’s the guy to lose to. I did a movie called Fierce People where I played a sociopath who wasn’t gay, but he does rape a teenage boy. You come to find out he didn’t do it for sexual reasons; he just did it because he could. He really was a sick character.

I’ve actually got an idea for a gay musical sequel to Cellular called Blackberry Storm. You in? Absolutely. Sounds like a nailbiter.

I hear there might also be a queer subtext in Push. Yes, those with powers try to keep it under wraps. They’re being hunted by the government, so everyone’s trying to lay low. Now I understand the gay man’s struggle. [Laughs]

What’s the status of your Tennessee Williams film, The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond, about a 1920’s Memphis debutante? We took it to the Toronto Film Festival looking for distribution, and it does not look like that’s going to happen. I don’t know if there’s really a market for a Tennessee Williams film. It would’ve been a tough film to distribute and make money back, so it’s probably going to remain in limbo and possibly come out one day on DVD.

Do you blame Lindsay Lohan, who was originally set to star before Bryce Dallas Howard took over? [Laughs] No, not at all. To be honest, Bryce was phenomenal in the movie. It’s a shame that people won’t get to see her performance.

Let’s discuss your sexy, now-infamous 2004 Flaunt magazine photo shoot — and why you seem more hesitant to flaunt your physique. I really didn’t think twice about taking my shirt off at the time, but my current publicist would pull her hair out if I did that photo shoot today. If I got to a photo shoot and they said, “OK, we’re going to do some shirtless shots,” I’d say, “Fine. No big deal.” It never really occurred to me that that could be misinterpreted as a bad thing or as selling out.

Do you think those photos hurt you? I couldn’t care less, and I don’t think it makes one lick of difference. But I hired my publicist for her professional opinion, and she seems to think it’s a mistake. I have no problem taking my shirt off for a role if the part calls for it, but my publicist says, “When you’re promoting yourself, being you, there’s a way to keep it as classy as possible. Greasing yourself up and stripping down may not be the best way to do it.” To some degree, she may have a point. But at the end of the day, it didn’t bother me then and it doesn’t bother me now. Maybe I dropped to #8 because I haven’t had enough shirtless photo shoots lately. I’m blaming my publicist. [Laughs]

When you need an ego boost, do you ever watch the Chris Evans tribute videos on YouTube? No, I just call my mother. When you’re feeling depressed, you talk to her for 20 minutes and you think your shit doesn’t stink. And you can quote me on that.

I read on PerezHilton.com that your younger brother Scott is gay. Yes, I do have a gay brother. I’m down with the gays. Mostly I’m hanging out with him and his gay buddies, who are fucking hilarious. They’re the funniest people I know.

Do they take you to gay bars? They’ve invited me out to gay bars before, and I said, “Look, guys, I’ve got to draw the line there.” That’s where a photo will get taken, it will run in magazines, and before you know it, I’ll be living down the gay rumor for the rest of my life.

Does your brother look anything like you? He does, but he’s about an inch taller and about four shades tanner than I am. He’s a very fit young man. Believe me, he does quite well for himself.

How did he come out to you? He was really nervous. He came out to all of us very slowly. His first year at NYU, he came out to our mother and our sister, and then he came out to me a little later. I was driving him back to New York City for school. We spent the whole day together, got to the city, had some beers in my hotel room, got into a really great talk, and he came out. I was so glad that he did. That’s got to be a difficult transition, but I come from the most liberal household you have ever heard of. And for some reason, gay men are just drawn to my mother. She’s a cool chick. I think, like, six men have come out to her. I guess they just feel so comfortable with her, and before you know it, they’re coming out of the closet. I think my mother was praying for us to be gay, so at least she got one of us.

Growing up, when was the first time you realized that you weren’t gay? When I had a crush on my babysitter, who lived with us for a few years. I must’ve been 10 or 11. I was just head-over-heels in love with her. I thought she was the greatest thing in the world. Then I had a really big crush on Kim Cattrall in Mannequin. I was in love with her too.

In May 2008, you were photographed wearing a T-shirt with an image of two girls making out. Was that your way of showing support for gay marriage? My buddy owns a clothing line in L.A, and that’s one of the T-shirts that he makes. To be completely honest, I threw it on without really taking a close enough look at it. On that day I ended up getting photographed at a clothing store — which rarely happens to me — and then on the way home, I get in a car accident. So I’m dealing with police, the ambulance, taking down names and numbers, all while wearing a shirt with two women tonguing each other. It was a rough day. As for gay marriage, it’s mindboggling and appalling that human beings are being denied civil rights in this country. But time will heal all. I have to believe that in 10 years we won’t be having this conversation. We’ll be having another one, because we’ll always find someone to persecute.

2008 was arguably the Year of the Man-crush. Who was yours? My buddies always tell me that I have a man-crush on Brad Pitt. What can I say? The guy’s great. I think he’s a great fuckin’ actor, and he’s versatile as all hell. I’ve never seen a movie I didn’t like him in. So I guess he’s my man-crush.

When I interviewed Milo Ventimiglia for The Advocate, he told me about performing “I Will Survive” in drag for the short-lived 2000 TV series Opposite Sex. He failed to mention that you were one of his two backup dancers. [Laughs] I’ll tell you the worst part. Milo and Kyle [Howard] look like the ugliest transvestites in the world; meanwhile, I think I pass! I look like an alright-looking woman! It was horrible walking from the makeup trailer to the set. I was ogled, getting catcalls, and being sized-up. It was very demeaning. I could definitely relate to what women must go through.

Have you done drag since? No. Unless you want to count the blue tights in Fantastic Four.

By the way, “flame on!” was typically reserved for flamboyant homosexuals before you stole it as your Fantastic Four catchphrase. Sorry, guys. Well, you knocked me down to #8. I had to steal something.

[acourtofthought]

What are your thoughts on Rhys’ attitude towards Nesta? And even Lucien. He tells Feyre that he’ll take kindness over nastiness any day, but I feel as if he really means that he wants some type of submission or someone who doesn’t stand up to him. It’s interesting how he puts so much blame on Nesta for Feyre hunting as a human but less on Elain.

When Feyre tells Lucien that they don’t pull rank in the NC, is that just her unreliable narrative again? Because we do see Rhys pull rank. Is everyone just delusional because of their oaths to him?

Also, with Lucien and the blame that he puts on him for how Feyre was treated in Spring as if Lucien had much sway over Tamlin. Also, a lot of Elriels get down on Lucien because of how he treated Feyre as a human, but which Fae was THAT much of an human advocate in the first place? If it wasn’t for Rhys’ connection to Feyre would any of the others truly care about humans?

Also, thoughts on Nessian? I’ve always wondered about their “love story”? I find it interesting that Nesta wanted a “man” but most of what we see about Cassian comes across as rather childish, and besides fighting and the bond that keeps drawing them together, what else truly binds them? What else do they talk about? I just feel like there relationship wasn’t as fleshed out at Feyre and Rhysands. Granted, they did have a few books and SF was about Nesta’s healing journey.

Thoughts?

I did understand Rhys's initial hesitation towards Lucien in book 3, they both had reasons to dislike one another.

On Lucien's end, Rhys was responsible for staking a head on the Spring Courts fountain, he threatened Lucien's mother, he nearly killed Lucien himself, and he allowed the other courts to believe him a monster for centuries.

As a result, Lucien went into book 2 with the impression that Rhys was a monster. We know Rhys was only playing a part but Lucien didn't know that so to him, Tamlin (even depressed) was not half as bad and since Tamlin was once his friend, I imagine Lucien thought he could find his way back to who he once knew him to be. Both Feyre and Rhys continued with Rhysands facade so Lucien had no way of knowing Feyre wasn't being brainwashed and his actions reflected that, where he did try to bring her back to Spring.

But to Rhys (knowing he wasn't truly a monster), it looked like Lucien failed her (though I think it's a bit of an unfair judgement since it was Rhys's fault they didn't truly understand what was going on).

But anyway, when Lucien first came to Velaris they were both coming from a place of misunderstanding so I wouldn't expect friendship. I don't agree with the rules they put in place regarding Lucien and Elain but I digress.

It's ACOFAS that confuses me a bit. I think SJM "reset" the characters so she'd have somewhere for them to go in the spin-offs but it's really weird that by the time Lucien offered to search for Vassa in ACOWAR and he and Rhys had the moment where they shook hands, an offer beyond just transportation, Rhys suddenly had an issue with him again in the novella? And Lucien suddenly could not stand to have Rhys pay for the clothes on his back? Again, I think SJM intentionally wrote it that way so she could build from the ground up in the spin-offs but it doesn't make sense that they regressed.

I do agree with you, that there really wasn't much Lucien could do for Feyre beyond what he was doing. He did try speaking out against Tamlin and he was punished for it. He was also juggling what the people of Spring needed (he tells Feyre he is the one the people look to first, that he sets the example and they were trying to learn how to live again after what Amarantha had done to them all). Lucien was in a lose lose situation because he was trying to balance the needs of many without any real power to make a difference. That's one of the reasons I think his story will be epic because seeing Lucien finally having enough power to make a difference? HOT

With Nesta, I do understand where Rhys is coming from though I think he's over the top in his reaction to her.

Feyre did make an effort to reach out to Nesta, to help Nesta, to include Nesta and Nesta pushed her away and was not very kind in doing so. She did not want to spend time with Feyre, spoke out loud about hating Rhys yet she still had no problem accepting their money.

So no, I wouldn't expect Rhys to feel fondness towards Nesta when his wife was being emotionally hurt in the process. I think at times he was unnecessarily cruel about it (two wrongs don't make a right and all that) but for someone like Rhys, he's going to give what he gets and since Nesta gave insults and harshness, he matched her. As far as the "Nesta is Illyrian" comment, I do think that was meant to be a compliment in a strange way. Rhys sees Nesta as an equal of sorts. He sees her as one of them. And because he knows what "his" people are capable of, he expects to see that greatness from her but she refused. He believed her capable of more yet she chose (in his eyes) to squander that.

On the other side of things, I think him saying "Elain is Elain" is a bit of an insult to her though I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. It was a "she's not really one of us so I don't expect much from her". He did acknowledge her kindness but at the same time he set her apart from the rest of the IC. Though again, I think that's just another way SJM is telling the reader Elain is not where she truly belongs, she's not with her core group yet.

Nessian.....I think their buildup was excellent while their actual story fell flat. Cassian lost a bit of his character (where was the formidable general who leads all the Illyrian armies?) and Nesta had so much anger that I struggled to connect with the romance since she was constantly pushing him away with insults anytime he got a little too close. I realize that was in character for Nesta but that, seeing him put down after he let his guard down to her along with the whole "just sex" thing isn't something I enjoy in my romance.